CW: A character says a homophobic slur in this chapter. I do censor out part of the word, but it is pretty clear what word is used. This occurs pretty late in the chapter, so just be aware if this is something that you are not a fan of.
Hi guys!
Another chapter! Yay! Thanks again for the comments, I'm super grateful!
Now as for this chapter... eh. I have my problems with it, but what else is new, ha. I had to extensively edit this chapter, but it's still not quite what I want it to be. Again, I did my best, but if you have problems with anything in this chapter, know that I do too, oof. But a lot happens and it's super important, story wise!
Now, for the content warning... so, skip the rest of this note if you don't want even partial spoilers, but... yes, the slur is used by a main character. I'll give you one guess as to whom says it. However, please bear with me, I have a reason for what I do and I will explain it a little in the end notes. I can't go into huge detail without spoiling, but please know I don't take it lightly and I had a reason for putting it into this story.
Anyway... enjoy!
(So... to the one person who is reading this story on ff . net, let me say hi! So, I am posting this on AO3 (the fanfiction archive) and am mostly posting here for my own personal attachment to this site. I didn't know if anyone would read here, since ff . net doesn't even have Mondo or Taka's names as characters, ha. But I'm glad someone is reading! I have been writing notes on AO3 but have been omitting them here, since it takes time to copy and paste, ha. But I'll do that going forward if at least someone is reading. Thanks for the comment!)
Kiyotaka stands, stiff and rigid, in the middle of the courtyard, eyes firm on the laughing, smiling faces that have all— regretfully— turned to face him.
He really wishes he hadn't been so foolishly distracted today.
It's Saturday again, the past week rushing by in a blur of exams and due assignments. He'd spent several hours every day studying in the library, reviewing his notes and textbooks and additional study materials for the umpteenth time, sure he's already starting to memorize the words, but knowing that he can't slack off now.
In addition to studying, he's also been tutoring several different students, even quite a few in years above him. Apparently, word had gotten around about how good his study schedules are, and now everyone wants him to draft them up one. Which he does, gladly! Each one he takes his time with, too, tailoring each specifically to the person who is asking. He doesn't know the students from the older years very well, which makes it slightly challenging to do so for them, but he's a little startled to realize he actually knows his class fairly well by now. Not perfectly, no, but enough that drafting study schedules and guides for them isn't that challenging at all, really. It's almost easy, even, to consider that Naegi spends an hour each evening talking to his family and thus is unavailable then, or knowing that Ogami spends several hours of the day training in either the gym or the girl's exercise room or even outside. He hadn't even realized he'd gotten to know his fellows that well, honestly...
Most shocking of all, though, is that he even gets a lot of smiles and thanks for his work, even though he's just doing what he can for his fellow student. It's not really that big of a deal, even. It's just his time, after all. What is that worth to anyone else? Nothing, really…
(Still… it had felt nice to be appreciated, his chest swelling with something akin to pride each time he handed someone their personalized study schedule, equipped with a bullet point list detailing all of the topics that would be most helpful to study for each particular exam. He had tried to stomp it down, telling himself that he's just doing what anyone in his position would do, but he couldn't quite fully manage. After all, it is nice to have his hard work appreciated by people! Even if they don't know the whole truth about him yet…
But he doesn't let himself dwell on the feeling for too long, forcing that emotion away like he forces all useless emotions away. Pride won't help him get where he needs to go, after all! In fact, pride will just drag him down, like it had dragged his grandfather down. And he refuses to do that…)
Anyway, he's digressing… the point is, because of the busy nature of the last week, he'd actually somehow managed to forget that today is Saturday. Or, well… that's not quite right. He had known, internally, that today was Saturday, given how he'd just finished up Hagakure's second tutoring session. However, he supposes he'd just forgotten what, exactly, Saturday means. Or, more accurately, he had forgotten what, exactly, occurs on Saturdays now.
And, as such, here he is, frozen like a deer in headlights as almost the entirety of his class turns to look at him, friendly smiles beckoning him over to join their little group.
A-ah, how foolish of him! He should have remembered Naegi's words from the previous Sunday, about how the group had decided to make this a weekly thing. If he had, he would have been sure to avoid the courtyard entirely, not wanting to intrude upon them. He isn't even sure why he'd chosen to come out here, other than that it is a nice autumn day, the sun shining softly and the air crisp but not cold. It's his favorite kind of day, truth be told, one he revels in when he allows himself to enjoy such a thing. He supposes he'd just wanted to take advantage of the nice day, really.
Now, however, under the scrutiny of nine some odd teenagers... well. Now, the day doesn't seem quite so enjoyable anymore…
He contemplates turning tail and running, desperately wanting nothing more than to avoid this situation forever. But they've all already seen him, and as such doing such a cowardly thing would just make him seem ungrateful or— worse— high and mighty…
Owada's words from the previous week rise in his mind unbidden, and he has to swallow thickly to get the lump that forms to go down. He's done very well, this past week, to ignore the conversation from last Sunday, thank you very much, going as far as to avoid the teen altogether. Of course, he can't do that entirely, not with his duty as Hall Monitor and Owada's allergy to following rules, but he has been nearly silent as he writes the biker his detention slips, eyes resolutely on the paper as he ignores the feeling of intense eyes staring holes into him. He's been doing well at not thinking or talking about the biker, and he refuses to break his streak now, so he pushes down the memory and shakes it out of his head.
The world set back to rights, Kiyotaka focuses on his current problem again. To run or not to run, that is the question...
His decision is made for him when he hears someone (Naegi, of course) call to him, asking him to come over vocally. With a silent sigh, knowing it would be beyond rude to leave now, he reluctantly marches over, trying not to seem like he's walking to his death. Judging by the concerned look in Naegi's eyes, he probably fails.
Typical.
Now that he's closer, he can see who exactly is there and who isn't. He can see Asahina and Ogami standing close together, the two girls chatting lightly, though it seems that Asahina is doing most of the talking while Ogami watches on indulgently. Maizono and Kuwata are nearby, too, Kuwata seeming to be very invested in whatever it is Maizono is talking about. Huh, he thinks absently. Must be a good story… hm. He moves his eyes onward quickly, though, not wanting to be accused of staring or anything rude like that!
Behind them, he can see Fujisaki, Hagakure, Yamada, and Ludenberg standing around. None of them are really talking, with Fujisaki staring at the ground while Hagakure stares into space and Ludenberg looks at her nails in boredom. He can see that Yamada seems to be staring rather intently at Ludenberg for some reason, which he finds a little strange. He has noticed the rotund teen hanging around the pro-gambler a lot lately, though he rarely is seen speaking to her. Perhaps he's trying to find the nerve to strike up a conversation? Hm… perhaps, he supposes. None of them seem truly uncomfortable, though, not even Fujisaki. Even when not talking, they all just… seem like they belong. No hint of awkwardness or unease or… or anything, really.
Not like Kiyotaka feels…
Flushing lightly, he looks back at Naegi, trying his hardest to not look like he's not the odd man out, the only one of the bunch who doesn't belong. Before he can start talking, though, he sees movement in the corner of his eye and does a double take, his body stiffening in an instant, his unease mounting instantly. Because he realizes suddenly that there is one more person joining the group on their excursion this week, one that makes him wish he'd said to heck with being rude and just run when he'd still had the chance.
Cheeks flushing hotly, Kiyotaka turns back to Naegi again, who is smiling kindly, trying his darnedest to ignore the almost familiar sensation of lavender eyes staring holes into the heart of him. He's getting good at this task, honestly. Well, it's like they always say. Practice makes perfect...
"Oh, Kiyotaka! I'm glad you were able to make it today! I wasn't sure if you would, but I figured lingering for an extra minute or two wouldn't hurt. I- I mean... you are planning on joining us, r-right?" he hears Naegi stammer, the boy sounding less sure of himself than usual as he takes in Kiyotaka's rigid posture. The look makes him feel guilty, and so he consciously works on relaxing his shoulders, trying not to look like he's currently being tortured. He isn't sure how successful he is, but at least Naegi no longer looks so upset. That... that's something...
However... however, he can't accept the invitation, no matter how rude it makes him. For one, spending time with his classmates is an unbelievably bad idea, considering the secret he's keeping from them. For another...
He can still feel eyes staring holes through him.
With as polite a smile as he can manage, he shakes his head firmly once, ignoring the pang in his gut at the crestfallen look on Naegi's face.
"A-ah, I'm sorry, Naegi-kun! I'm afraid I do not have the time to spare today! We have many assignments due in our classes, you know, and I would hate to fall behind! But I thank you most dearly for the invitation, I assure you! I-"
Kiyotaka would have kept going with his words, trying somehow to justify his unjustifiable refusal, but he is cut off by a loud snort, causing his eyes to dart to the source of the sound, startled.
His eyes meet lavender.
"Ya can't be serious. It's a fuckin' weekend! No one's that concerned 'bout their schoolin' that they can't take a single fuckin' day off. Just admit ya don't wanna hang out with us and leave it. Y'ain't gotta come up with all a' these bullshit excuses," Owada claims, rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms. Kiyotaka swallows thickly at the lightly growling words, wanting to advert his eyes but knowing he can't.
Instead, he does what he always does when nervous and straightens his back, holding his head as high as he possibly can.
"T-that's not true at all! I- I would never think such a thing! Just because I take my schoolwork seriously does not mean I am- am avoiding you all! I just... I just cannot afford to fall behind, that is all! And watch your language! We are still on school grounds!"
Instead of getting angry— like Kiyotaka half expects— the biker just snorts, a bitter half smile rising on his lips.
"Yeah, I'mma call bullshit on that one, tightass. C'mon. Admit it. We'll be gone for, what, an hour, two, tops? Even you can sacrifice that much time. So, just fuckin' admit it, Ishimaru. 'Nough bullshit. Ya just don't wanna spend time with us. Too busy, up in that ivory tower a' yers, ain't ya? Can't deign ta grace the rest a' us dirty commoners with your lordly presence, huh?"
W-well! Well!
He can't help but stare at Owada in shock, their conversation from the last week instantly rising in his mind. And here he was, thinking the teen would be true to his word and not bring such a thing up again. Ha! That'll teach him for believing that the biker could ever have a hint of honor!
He can hear Naegi pipe up, a noise of protest escaping his lips, but Kiyotaka plows over him. He'll apologize later. Now? Now, he has a biker to set to rights.
"I- I have already told you, Owada-kun, that I do not feel such a thing! I am not a liar, and I am not lying when I say I am busy! The whole world does not revolve around you, you know! Just because I cannot spare the time to join you all does not mean I am- am avoiding you! Any of you! I- I just... I cannot..."
His words peter out as he realizes he doesn't know what to say next. After all, how can he explain his true reason for refusing? That he's afraid of getting too close, too attached, only for them to abandon him later when they learn his bitter truth? He can't say that; they'll hate him! But he can't keep lying either, because— as awful as it is to admit even to himself— Owada is right. He doesn't need to study today and has in fact budgeted a few hours of rare free time right now, which he was going to use to take a relaxing stroll around the beautiful school grounds. So, he can't say he need to study without it being a lie, and he is not a liar! He is not as immoral as that! He must come up with a true excuse, but what…
Luckily (or not), he is spared from having to come up with anything else when Owada snorts again, a cruel sneer rising on his lips, the biker striding forward with purpose. Before Kiyotaka can get too nervous at the other teen's approach, however, Owada stops, a little under a foot away. This close, he can see the flecks of silver that he's begun to notice in the biker's eyes. Why is he noticing such a thing? It's a stupid thing to notice. He pushes it out of his mind.
"Oh yeah?" he hears Owada practically purr, his glare dark and meaningful as his lips pull upward into an ugly sneer, "then prove it, Hall Monitor. Come with us today. Prove y'ain't as high an' mighty as I know ya are. Y'ain't chicken, are ya?"
Oh! Oh! Is that a fudging challenge?!
Well then! He'll show him! He'll show that- that no good biker what's for! After all, Kiyotaka Ishimaru never backs down from a challenge!
"Fine! I will then! I'll join you and the class on your- your excursion, you'll see! I- I'll just have to make up for my lost time later, during dinner I suppose!"
It takes him a moment to realize what he's done, what he has somehow agreed to do. His face flushes brightly when he does, but for some reason, it doesn't seem so bad. Not when he sees the tiny, self-satisfied smile (an actual smile, not the smirks he usually sports) that graces Owada's lips for a split second, before the teen turns away, shrugging his shoulders casually.
"Fine. Whatever gets yer rocks off, tightass. Now, are we goin' or not? I ain't exactly got all day, y'know."
A moment of silence follows the biker's gruff words, before Naegi springs into action, the boy looking almost nervous as he nods quickly.
"O-oh, of course! Uh, I mean, you don't have to come if you really don't want to, Kiyotaka, but we're happy to have you, if you want. We should get going now, though... s-so you can join us, if you like, but don't feel pressured, okay?"
Kiyotaka doesn't say anything in response, his mind too embarrassed by his public spat with Owada, but he follows after the group regardless, taking up the rear like a silent observer. After all, it's not like he can just go back on his word now, can he? That would be admitting defeat. And Kiyotaka...
Kiyotaka never admits defeat. Not so easily, at least.
The walk itself isn't too unpleasant, he has to admit. All students at Hope's Peak are allowed to leave whenever they want, even during school hours, so he doesn't have to feel any guilt as they exit the school grounds, Naegi leading them to the nearest outdoor mall, Asahina chatting enthusiastically beside the lucky boy. The rest follow at a sedate pace, the classmates chatting together softly, laughing at certain jokes he assumes one of them tells. Even Owada and Fujisaki join in, the unlikely pair actually talking lightly to one another, neither seeming to be too uncomfortable about the whole thing. It's kind of frightening, but as long as they're enjoying themselves...?
Still, it makes something deep inside him ache to watch, seeing all of his classmates talking and having a good time, while he's stuck back here. Watching them as they do it, but not really a part of the group. An outsider looking in. A ghost forced to watch as the living world goes on around him, trapped inside a mockery of an existence.
The thought depresses him, in all honestly…
And this is exactly why he hadn't wanted to come! What use is it, being forced to watch others laughing and having fun, knowing that he will never be able to have that? Not even if he wants it. Which, he's forced to admit, heart aching, that he does. He truly, truly does...
He wonders absently if that's why the remaining five classmates who hadn't shown up (Togami, Kirigiri, Enoshima, Ikusaba, and Fukawa, he mentally supplies) had chosen not to come along. Somehow, he doubts it. After all, it's only him that doesn't truly belong here. The false Ultimate that tricked the school into believing he actually belongs. Ha! How foolish of him to think otherwise!
Luckily, for him, the trip to the mall does not take that long, though it had felt like it had. Still, it's not even ten minutes later that Naegi calls them to attention, smiling as they enter the mall's boundaries. They all come to a stop, standing in a half circle around the boy, but he doesn't seem daunted by the attention like Kiyotaka knows he would feel, though he'd hide it as best he could. Instead, Naegi just smiles, looking at them all in turn.
"S-so! Where should we go first?" he questions, eyes landing on each of them as he does so. There's silence for a moment, before multiple voices call out.
"The sporting goods store! I need to get some more protein powder so I can keep up with Sakura during training!" Asahina calls out, right as Fujisaki tentatively says, "I- I was thinking, m-maybe we could go to that computer store? I-it's right next to a general store, too, s-so..."
Kiyotaka feels sorry for the soft-spoken programmer, who turns red with misting eyes as she realizes she's not the only one to speak up. He doesn't get a chance to say anything (not that he has any idea what he'd even want to say, granted) when Naegi speaks up, sounding considering.
"Ah, well, maybe we can do both? We could head to one first, and then go to the other?"
His classmates seem to be considering the compromise, but then Hagakure— of all people— shoots it down.
"Nahhh man, that doesn't sound like a good idea. I predict, like, a 75% chance of that ending in total disaster if we try it. Doesn't seem worth it, gotta admit."
Kiyotaka gives the man a strange look, having no idea what he is talking about. He's not the only one, as he hears a— sadly familiar— snort ring out, a cruelly mocking voice following it.
"Oh, yeah, an' a' course we gotta follow whatever yer bullshit predictions tell us, huh, ya hack?" Owada rejoins, rolling his eyes at the idea. Hagakure opens his mouth, probably to spout some more mystic nonsense, but Naegi cuts him off, giving the supposedly clairvoyant man a look of apology as he does so.
"I-it's alright, Owada-san! We don't have to do that idea. I guess we can always split up? Those of us who want to go to the sporting goods store can go with one group, and those who want to go to the computer or general store can go with the other? And then, maybe, we can meet up at the food court in about half an hour, so we can get some lunch? How does that sound?"
There's a murmur of agreement through the group, Hagakure giving a thumbs up and a bright grin towards the idea. Hm. Guess this idea ends less in disaster, then, he thinks skeptically.
Still, Naegi latches onto the group consensus and smiles brightly at them all.
"Okay! Great! So, uh... everyone who wants to go with Hina, stand over there," Naegi states, pointing to a bench off to the side. He then points to a different bench, across the way. "And everyone who wants to go with Chihiro, stand over there. Sound good?"
The group says an affirmative and begins to split off into the two groups. Asahina and Ogami, predictably, stand in the group for the sporting goods store, with Hagakure of all people joining them, as well as Naegi. He sees Kuwata start heading over in that direction, but the teen abruptly changes course and joins the other group, for reasons Kiyotaka doesn't understand. Though, he thinks it might have something to do with Maizono, who had decided to join Fujisaki's group, the redheaded teen walking up to chat with her again.
Along with Fujisaki, Kuwata, and Maizono, he sees Owada— for some reason— head over to the computer slash general goods store group. Huh. He wouldn't have predicted that... but it doesn't matter, the biker can do whatever he wants, who even cares? Not Kiyotaka! Aha…
Anyway…
The last two, Ludenberg and Yamada, remain in the middle, neither seeming to be inclined to move. When Naegi calls to them, asking which group they want to be part of, Ludenberg replies in her light accent that, "hmm, I don't think I am interested in either, to be honest. I think I'll head to the food court now to grab myself some tea instead."
Yamada, immediately, nods his head and says he wishes to do the same. If Kiyotaka were better at reading people's expressions, he'd notice the look of annoyance on Ludenberg's face, though it only lasts a second. As is, he doesn't question it and just watches as the pair wanders off, Yamada rambling about something or other.
And just like that, it's only him standing in the middle of the pathway, sticking out like a sore thumb.
Hmm... maybe... maybe, he can just wander off by himself now that he's here? After all, that's kind of what Ludenberg had just done, right? And besides, he doubts the others will really notice, it's not like they've been paying him any mind up to this point anyway...
However, before he can even hope to put his plan into action, he hears an (unfortunately) familiar voice call out, the words full of derision.
"Hey, tightass, ya plannin' on movin' anytime soon? Or ya just gonna wander off on us, seein' as how ya didn't even wanna come in the first place?" Owada taunts, a smug smile on his face, like he's won or something. Feeling himself go hot all over, he glares at the utterly obnoxious teenager, his lips moving before his mind can catch up to him.
"I was just thinking! Give me a moment!" he cries, fists clenched by his sides. He looks away from Owada and over to the two groups, critically this time, actively debating now that he's been called out. After all, he can't just wander off now, not when he's been challenged again!
But now, as for which group to choose...
On one hand, he doesn't really have any interest in going to the sporting goods store, since it's not like he could actually afford anything in the shop anyway. And, while he has no interest in the computer slash tech store for the same reason, he could probably find a cheap replacement for his binder— which is starting to fall apart on him— in the general store.
On the other hand... does he really want to spend an entire afternoon with Owada breathing down his neck? Ah. 'Not really' is too light of a phrase to describe how he feels about that idea, honestly. He doesn't dare repeat the actual phrase that comes to mind, though, face flushing at his own mind's surprising vulgarity. Perhaps he's been in Owada's proximity far too much these days...
However, even though his mind tells him to walk over to Asahina's group, knowing that that is the safer option, his cursed feet, for reasons unknown, drag him over to Fujisaki's group instead. He resolutely does not look at Owada, not wanting to see his stupid, smug grin at his supposed 'win', thank you very much!
(It's a shame he doesn't, though, because otherwise he might have caught a glimpse of the soft, almost pleased smile the biker gets on his face before he can school it into his usual look of indifference. Not that it would have mattered, of course! Kiyotaka doesn't care for things like that, not at all...)
The groups all decided, they all start moving together, Asahina's group going one way while his group goes the other. Ah. It seems the stores are on opposite sides of the mall, then. That makes sense why they would split the group like this, he supposes. More sense than Hagakure's fraudulent 'predictions,' at any rate...
It doesn't take them long to reach the store Fujisaki was talking about, though, Kiyotaka not even having enough time to feel like an unwanted fifth wheel before they stop, the tech store gleaming before them like a glittering treasure. Honestly, the store intimidates him greatly, and he almost turns to head to the general store, which he can see is right across the way, but stops when the rest of the group enters the tech store together. Part of him still wants to head to the general store regardless, really not wanting to be surrounded by things he can never, in a million years, have any hope of affording, but then he catches Owada glancing back at him, a single eyebrow raised, and Kiyotaka feels his legs moving stubbornly after his classmates. Gah! Curse him and his darned pride!
Standing inside the store is as awkward and humiliating as he thought it would be, though, rows upon rows of the highest end computers and tablets as far as the eye can see. The store isn't super crowded, thankfully, but he still feels almost claustrophobic as he reluctantly follows after the group. He knows he probably looks ridiculous, all hunched over and awkward, but he can't help it. The gross display of wealth and fortune... it makes his stomach churn with bitter jealousy, an emotion he hates almost as much as anger. It's such an ugly emotion, after all…
His discomfort is disrupted when he feels more than sees (since his eyes are firmly on the ground, to prevent him from hopelessly ogling such splendor) someone walk up beside him. And, judging by the white loafers he sees on the ground besides his black boots, not to mention the hints of a long leather coat he sees at the edge of his sightline, he (regretfully) knows exactly who it is that's decided to bother him.
"Ya know, if yer tryin' ta prove ya actu'ly wanna spend time 'round us and that ya don't think we're all scum on the bottom a' yer shoe, ya might not wanna look like someone just killed yer puppy and forced ya ta watch, ya know. Sends mixed signals."
The words, spoken softly in his ear, make his hackles rise, his fists clenching instinctively. He wants to rise to the challenge, to say he's not uncomfortable at all (a big, huge, fat lie, since he clearly is, just not for the reason Owada seems to think), but for once, he can't. His insides are too twisted up to have any hope of that.
Instead, he just mumbles out something that even he doesn't understand and hunches his shoulders further, his eyes so firmly on the ground he wouldn't be surprised if he accidentally bumps into someone, or something. He doesn't, luckily.
(He's so focused on not looking at the technology around him that he misses the slight frown on Owada's face, the biker actually looking concerned for one single, solitary second before he looks away. Ah well. Such is life...)
Eventually, the group comes to a halt, his eyes instinctively looking up when he hears Fujisaki let out a loud gasp, concern filling him. Is the girl alright? He'd never heard her sound like that before...
She's fine, of course, and is instead looking in awe at the thing he guesses she'd dragged them here to see.
It's a computer, he knows that much, even if he'd rarely ever used one growing up (they're far too expensive, even second hand). He'd only ever had a chance to use one while in his old school's library, and those had always been ancient, so slow that even he would start to feel impatient at the sluggish speed.
This computer, though... it's nothing like those ancient, almost broken computers he'd had to use on the few occasions his teachers had assigned online assignments. In fact, it's almost an insult to this computer even comparing the two. He knows next to nothing about technology, but even he can see how utterly beautiful this machine is, not needing to hear Fujisaki— less shy and stammering now that she's finally in her element— ramble on and on about how impressive it is. He has no idea what the words like 'RAM,' or 'Gigabyte' means, but he can tell that whatever they are, they must be very impressive, because even Owada lets out a low whistle at one of the things the girl says.
He's never felt more worthless in his life.
He knew he shouldn't have come here. He knew he shouldn't have stepped foot in this godforsaken store. Why had he allowed Owada to goad him into coming along in the first place, let alone entering the building? He's such a fool! A giant, idiotic fool!
Because coming here, being surrounded by all the opulence and splendor he knows he'll never have, even if he does somehow manage his goal of becoming Prime Minister... being here, reminded so utterly and painfully of how inferior and pathetic he is, especially compared to his peers... it cuts him so deep that he wonders if he'll be able to stop it from bleeding. He has never felt so low before, and it's all so- so... so stupid. He's stupid, for thinking he'd ever belong in this world. A world that Fujisaki, and Maizono, and Kuwata, and even Owada, somehow, all slot into perfectly. A world that will never, ever be his, no matter how hard he works, how hard he tries. He can't ever leave behind his impoverished roots, after all. Not fully, at any rate.
He doesn't deserve to be here.
He doesn't deserve to attend Hope's Peak.
He doesn't deserve anything good or nice at all.
No. Instead, what he deserves is...
"Hey, Ishimaru," a brash voice cuts into his thoughts, causing him to look up with wide eyes. They meet cold lavender. "Bet yer gonna ask yer daddy ta buy ya one of these beauties now, huh? Wouldn't surprise me. Rich guys like you always get whatever ya want, huh?"
Okay, now that... that is it! How dare he?! How dare he- he... make fun of him like this?! Clearly Owada knows the truth, knows that he's not rich in the slightest, and is just trying to... to... take the piss out of him, he believes the common vernacular would say! He can feel tears rise to his eyes, but he stubbornly forces them down. However… he can't quite stop the way his hands are shaking, his body strung up so tight he's one second away from snapping completely. Oh dear...
"Would you be quiet, Owada," he snaps peevishly, so upset he doesn't even try to mask the way his voice is wavering, his anger and humiliation clear for all to hear. At least he's managed to keep his volume down, despite his distress… the last thing he'd need is to be forcibly removed from the store because he's making a nuisance of himself, after all... "You know full well why I cannot do such a thing! It's highly distasteful to taunt someone over a matter such as this!"
"Huh?" he hears another voice chime in. It's another that he, regretfully, knows all too well… "The hell ya mean by that, poindexter? What, ya too good for something like this?"
Kuwata's words are cutting, his heart aching at the meaning behind them, but the former baseball star sounds genuinely confused, not mocking, for once. It makes his cheeks flush a brighter red, especially when he sees the confusion and bafflement on the faces of his fellows, even Fujisaki and Maizono looking concerned. Though not Owada, of course, who is just frowning at him, eyes full of a dark emotion that Kiyotaka doesn't even want to bother trying to decipher. And at that moment... Kiyotaka truly wishes that the earth would open up and swallow him whole, wanting nothing more than for this entire moment to be over with already.
But it's painfully clear that he's not going to be able to leave this conversation without explaining himself, at least slightly. And so, with trembling lips, he confesses part of the secret he's been carrying so closely to his chest for nearly a month now, his heart aching to be forced to make such a concession.
God. He never should have come out on this excursion today…
Nothing good ever comes from forced bonding experiences.
"I don't know if any of you have noticed, but it's not like I could ever, in a million years, afford such a device!" he hisses softly, more humiliated than he's ever felt in his life. The tears are back with a vengeance and he is forced to look down, not being able to stand the looks of muted horror he briefly sees enter the two girls' eyes. It's almost funny, in a twisted way, and it actually makes a bitter smile rise on his lips, as he continues on oh so bitterly. After all, no one likes to be reminded of abject poverty. It's such a distasteful subject... "In fact, I could never afford a single item in this store, probably not even a single mouse! So, if you will excuse me, I will be headed over to the general store now! I will see you all later!"
With that, Kiyotaka resolutely marches towards the entrance, which is very awkward to do with how hunched his shoulders are, his eyes firmly on the floor. He actually almost runs into a display this time, only managing to catch himself at the last possible second. However, he knows that his classmates are still watching his retreat, probably judging his every move, making him feel somehow even more humiliated. It's this thought that finally breaks the dam, his tears falling, which is his cue to swiftly exit the store before he is forcibly thrown out.
As soon as he's outside, the chill late September air biting his cheeks bitterly, he feels his body start to relax. He's still mortified, and his eyes are still stubbornly leaking tears, don't get him wrong. But just being out of that godforsaken store... not being surrounded by the technology that he'll never have any hope of affording... it helps. Greatly.
After a few moments of breathing steadily, sitting on a bench a few stores down from the tech shop, he finally manages to stop the tears from flowing, though his body has started to feel numb, and not just because of the cold. His humiliation has paved way for cold resignation, the knowledge that, by morning, the whole school will know his financial situation making him feel almost hopeless. It's not like he's actively been hiding the fact, and he's sure several of his classmates have noticed how careful he is with all of his few possessions, but it still feels... well. Awful.
It is funny (or, you know, not funny at all) how no one ever seemed to notice, though. He distinctly remembers one day near the beginning of the year when he'd almost burst into tears during physical education, after he'd gotten mud smeared horribly over his gym kit, wondering how in the world he'd ever get such a stain out of his— for once brand new— clothing. He'd forgotten at the time that he'd actually had access to an actually good laundry facility for once, making the process so much easier than ever before, but he'd been so upset at the time. What, did they just all think he was a snobbish rich boy, crying because he'd gotten a little mud on his clothes? Ha! That's rich!
But there's no use sitting here, feeling sorry for himself, is there? What's done is done. He'd told his classmates about his financial situation, and he can't ever take it back, no matter how much he may want to. And oh, does he want to…
Still, there's no use sitting here crying about it. He knows that. With a soft sigh and a still aching heart, he stands carefully and wanders over to the general store at last, the pitiful number of yen he keeps on his person at all times burning a hole in his pocket. He doesn't even know if he has enough to pay for the meager supplies that he needs... he knows that he technically could always use the debit card the school had given him, to use the stipend they give him every month, but he wouldn't ever do that. His father needs that money far more than he does. He can always just make his current binder last him a few more months if he has to, he's sure he can… he… he'll be fine...
Still, there's something oddly soothing about wandering through the familiar aisles, even though he's never been in this particular store before. If you've been in one general store, you've been in them all, really. It's comforting in a way. He belongs in a store like this, as run down and shoddy as is it. If he could be the embodiment of any store, it probably would be a general store. Reliable, steady, but not really worth anything, when push comes to shove. Not at all like a glimmering technology store, full of priceless treasures, hot commodities that everybody wants. The thought makes him smile, his eyes dull and dead as he looks at the haphazardly packed shelves. So fitting, honestly...
He doesn't know how long he spends in the store, staring at the cheap goods that he can't afford, before he feels a presence come up beside him, omnipresent and oppressive. He stiffens again, the looseness in his posture vanishing as the scent of cinnamon and motor oil assault his senses. Because of course. Of course, Owada couldn't just leave him alone, for once. Of freaking course.
He wonders how much a person can safely cry in one day. His eyes wouldn't get too dried out, would they?
"Hey, uh, look, Ishimaru-" Owada starts, before Kiyotaka abruptly cuts him off, not caring if he's being rude.
"Look, Owada-kun, I am not in the mood, so if you have any decency in you whatsoever, you will kindly leave me alone!" he hisses, stomach roiling as he glares at the dried ramen noodles that he sees before him on the shelf. Hm, it seems that they are on sale. Maybe he could afford them if he scrounges for every last yen that he has...
Silence falls between the pair following that, but to his great displeasure and distress, Owada doesn't seem keen on leaving him alone. In fact, the teen actively follows him as he marches resolutely down the aisle, blinking as the tears make their way back, though he stubbornly tries to keep them in. Oh, great. This again. Is he somehow cursed to always cry when in the biker's presence? If so, what god must he pray to, to lift such a monstrous curse?
It's several long minutes later before Owada speaks again, his voice far softer than he's ever heard it before.
"You really mean it when you say you're not rich, don't you?"
Kiyotaka freezes instantly at the words, far different from Owada's usual speech, his heart pounding at the hidden accusation, the words unsaid. You really are that poor, aren't you? he hears a soft voice whisper into his ear. You really are that pathetic, aren't you? How shameful... how disgraceful... you're a mockery of everything Hope's Peak stands for... what an utter loser...
Kiyotaka looks up harshly, a shaky demand to leave him the hell alone fresh on his lips, but the words die when he catches sight of Owada's face, far different to what he's come to realize he's used to...
Instead of a look of mild disinterest or even defiance, like normal, he sees… god. He sees a look of openness, of vulnerability, of, dare he say… kindness. Owada isn't looking at him like he's a bug he wants to squish, like he usually does, but instead is looking at him softly, openly. And the look in his eyes... on anyone else, anyone at all, he'd call it pity, but on Owada... on Owada it's...
It's not even sympathy, like he'd previously thought. It… it's…
It's empathy…
That, more than anything, makes his shoulders relax. Part of his mind is screaming at him, telling him that he can't let his guard down, not even for a second, but he can't help it. He's been on edge since this whole fiasco started, and his body just can't handle it.
And so, instead, he shrugs carelessly, eyes listlessly looking at the styrofoam cups he sees for sale on the shelves, wanting to look anywhere but at Owada, not able to stand the softness he sees there.
Perhaps, had he not been feeling so off inside, he would have left it there and let the conversation peter out into nothingness, until Owada finally left him, the awkward silence too much for the brash teenager to bear. Maybe that's what he should have done, would have been the intelligent option.
Kiyotaka's never claimed to be overly intelligent, however.
"No, Owada-kun. I am not. Not even close. You... you told me, last week, that I could never understand what it's like to go to bed hungry. You couldn't have been more wrong. I often did, my father unable to pay off our debts and feed us at the same time. I often wondered if I'd waste away from lack of nutrition, like the starvation victims I'd see in my textbooks. My... m-my mother, she... she died, because we could not afford her cancer treatment. I... I am not rich, Owada-kun. And it is highly unlikely that I ever will be. No matter what lies I may tell myself to get through the day…"
He doesn't know what had compelled him to tell such personal details about himself, his stomach squirming uncomfortably. And yet... while he knows that he should, he can't quite find it in him to regret it. Even if Owada laughs at him for it, calls him pathetic like he knows he is, it doesn't matter. He'd said his piece and that's all he can do. And if Owada laughs at him, mocks him, well... then at least this strange feeling he gets when he looks at Owada will finally go away. The feeling that— despite all his gruff exterior and harsh expression— inside the biker lies something far softer; far rawer and bloodier. It's that feeling that had caused him to share so much, truly. He waits with bated breath for Owada to prove him wrong, for the biker to show his true colors and mock him like all of his childhood tormentors had mocked him, waiting for his stupid and moronic hope to be utterly and thoroughly dashed.
His waiting is entirely in vain.
"Wow, that uh... that really fuckin' sucks, man. I mean... freakin'. But I, uh... I get it, ya know? It uh... it was the same, for me. Well, not exactly the same, but... s-see, my folks they, uh... they weren't exactly the best, heh. Da didn't exactly hang 'round long, and ma died not too long after. I barely even remember 'em, ta be perfectly honest. Just a blur of angry faces and drunken words. My older brother, Daiya, he uh… he raised me. Took care a' me. We never had much, but as long as I had him, I was good, ya know? But... but I still hated it. Bein' so poor. Never havin' even a fraction a' the things the kids at my run down schools had. I remember gettin' so angry whenever I'd see one a' my classmates totin' 'round some new gizmo or whatever, not even realizin' just what I'd give ta have something even half as nice. I... I was always so angry, back then. Still am, heh… 'specially here, at this school... it... I dunno. S'hard. And you… ya just... I dunno. Ya remind me a' them. The kids I knew. The ones I hated..."
Owada pauses here for a second, before looking up at him and chuckling softly.
"But I get now that y'ain't like 'em, are ya? You... ya get it. What it's like. Ta have fricken nothin' while wantin' everythin'. Ya know, ya… ya remind me a' my bro a bit, heh. My bro, he, uh… he started my gang, ya know. Built it up from scratch. From nothin'. Always had big plans, Daiya did. An' I don't expect ya ta understand, but it's all I got left a' him now. He... yeah. Maybe I don't like the violence as much as I prolly should, but I can't just quit. I owe it ta Daiya ta keep the gang runnin', keep us together. Honor his memory. Or somethin' like that… shit. Uh, I mean… shoot. But, uh… my point is, while I may be a biker, I ain't a complete a-hole, ya know? I do got some limits. An' I shouldn't a' said what I did ta ya. Yer right, it's uh... distasteful, ta talk 'bout things like that, 'specially in front a' other people. I don't expect ya ta accept it, but I am sorry. Genuinely. It was shitty a' me ta do that, and if ya wanna hit me or somethin', I won't stop ya. I prolly deserve it."
Owada stops his rambling words abruptly, his hands twitching at his sides. Kiyotaka cannot see much more of the teen from where he is looking, but from what little he can see, he can tell that Owada is highly uncomfortable, the vulnerability probably making him want to curl up and die. Kiyotaka understands. He's exactly the same.
Something about that thought is oddly... soothing. Comforting.
With a soft, wry smile, Kiyotaka looks over at Owada, eyes alive for the first time since this whole thing started.
"I thought you said that no one deserves to be hit, Owada-kun? Or does that not apply to yourself?"
He watches, perversely amused, as Owada blinks owlishly at him, clearly not expecting the words. Which makes sense, it was fairly uncharacteristic of himself, he knows that, but he… he'd not been able to stop it. The lightly teasing words. He… he hadn't even known he could tease. It… huh. He feels his heart stutter painfully in his chest when he sees the biker smile softly, the smile growing until it's a large grin, a soft, almost relieved laugh escaping from the biker's lips. He feels Owada shove him, but it's not painful or rough at all. In fact, it's almost… almost playful, like they're...
Like they're friends.
How queer…
"Aw, shut the hell up, ya nerd! I said no one deserves ta be beat, not hit. There's a difference, idiot. Now come on. Hit me. I know ya wanna, ya goddamn goody-two shoes. Y'ain't gonna get another chance like this, I promise ya that!"
Kiyotaka cannot help the grin that blooms on his face, though he knows it's ridiculous. He probably looks like an utter fool, but for once, he just… he doesn't really care. Not when Owada is looking at him with velvet soft eyes, looking at him— for all the world to see— like he's something so utterly precious.
This is dangerous. He knows it is. Can hear the warning bells ringing loud and clear in his head. Can see the warning signs flash before his eyes, telling him to stop, to turn back, to run away and leave now before the danger he is in comes to destroy him.
He mercilessly ignores them.
Gently— with not even a fraction of his true strength— Kiyotaka balls up his fist loosely and, as weak as a kitten, taps Owada gently on his chest. It barely counts as a hit, more like a tap, but somehow, it makes Owada howl in laughter, the teen not caring that they're getting glared at angrily by the store owner. Kiyotaka should be offended by the laughter, usually hating being laughed at, but he can tell that Owada is not laughing at him, per se, but rather with him, though he's not laughing. He is smiling, though, for once not feeling like it's awkward and unnatural on his face. And somehow... somehow, that makes all the difference in the world. And— instead of feeling offended— he finds that the overly loud laughter is the most amazing sound he's ever heard.
Suddenly, before he can even blink, Owada's hand darts out and grabs his wrist, not roughly but firmly, and pulls it gently towards his chest, right over his heart, before holding it there. Kiyotaka's head starts reeling from the sensation, the biker's hand feeling rough and yet so utterly warm, the touch more comforting than any he's ever felt before, save his mother's. He could quickly find himself getting lost in such a wonderful sensation, if allowed. Oh, he definitely could... h-he already is, heart pounding in a way that is so far from fear it's not even funny, his cheeks feeling warm but not from embarrassment. He's never felt like this before, has no idea what it possibly means, but as he stares deeply into the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen, he knows that whatever it is, it's more dangerous than anything he's ever felt before. So very, very dangerous.
So… why isn't he afraid?
"Man, Ishimaru-san, you, uh... you sure are somethin' else, ain't ya," the biker claims softly, the gentlest smile on his face as he angles his body further towards Kiyotaka, the small aisle not small enough, really. Kiyotaka— almost against his will— finds himself mirroring the other teen, pulled closer and closer, like a magnet pulled helplessly to its partner. Or maybe like a meteor, trapped in a planet's gravitational pull, or… or… well. The point is, he can't pull away even if he wanted to.
And he doesn't. Want to, that is.
God, he doesn't want to...
This just… it feels so nice… so completely and utterly nice. Owada is warm and his eyes are soft, and everything in Kiyotaka is swirling dizzyingly, making his head go all stupid and slow. Despite himself, he can feel his eyes dart down from Owada's and down to- t-to… to his lips, which look so much softer and pinker than he'd think a rough and wild biker gang leader's lips would look like. As Kiyotaka looks, unable to tear his eyes away, he can't help the thoughts that run through his head, fast as lightning, as insubstantial as smoke. What would they feel like? the thoughts whisper to him, soft as cotton. Against yours? What… what would they…
It's as the pair are barely a breath apart from one another, Kiyotaka practically tasting the sweet cinnamon on Owada's breath, his lips barely a centimeter away from the other's, that his brain finally kicks in, the fog that had descended around him clearing.
And the fear that he said he wasn't feeling? Makes itself known with a vengeance.
Flinching back so hard he would have fallen into the display behind him if Owada wasn't holding his hand so tight, Kiyotaka stumbles back, mind and body horrified by what... what he'd... what h-he'd almost... what he'd almost allowed...
He can see Owada staring at him with equal horror, the teen dropping his hand like it's scalding, something like anger replacing the vulnerability from a second before. Something about the harsh juxtaposition between the two emotions makes him want to cry, but he pushes that feeling away. He- he... oh god, what had he almost done...? Oh, God. What had they almost done?!
"What the fuck... w-what the hell did ya... what did ya do ta me, ya fuckin' freak?! What are ya, some kinda goddamn fairy?! Get the hell away from me, you f*g!"
Kiyotaka cannot help the gasp he releases at the disgusting slur, taking another shaky step back. Oh, God. How... how had he allowed himself to be so utterly captivated by such a... such a... a brute?! An utterly horrendous, no good, absolutely vile thug?!
Feeling nauseous and utterly disgusted, he bares his teeth at Owada, eyes almost manic as he glares, his heart racing a mile a minute, the emotions swirling in them so messed up he doesn't even know where to begin! He... h-he...
"I- I... you! I did nothing! I-it was you who... and how dare you use such a word?! I'm not- not... that, but that gives you no right to use such language! You are lucky we are not on school grounds, or else I would give you detention for the rest of the year for using such a vile word! I- I have never been so disgusted before in my life! Y-you... you..."
Kiyotaka's angry words peter off into nothing, as an aching hole takes root in his chest, growing larger and larger by the second. His throat grows tight, his eyes begin to water again, and he doesn't know what to do, having never felt so utterly helpless before. The way Owada is glaring at him, such abject hatred and disgust in his eyes... it hurts worse than any insult or injury he's ever felt before.
And he doesn't even know why. Why it matters. Why he cares. Why Owada's opinion means anything to him at all. It shouldn't. It shouldn't. It really, really shouldn't.
And yet, somehow… it does.
Oh, god. He should have listened to those warning signs. He should have turned back when he had the chance. He should never have allowed Owada to speak so softly to him, should never have allowed himself to speak so softly in the first place... hell, he never should have stepped foot in that store, never should have let Owada goad him like that, never should have... never should have come on this outing, never... never...
Never should have come to Hope's Peak.
Never should have hoped that he could be worth more than the dirt he knows he is.
Never should have hoped, period.
With a sharp inhale of breath that he will forever deny being a sob, Kiyotaka turns on his heel and decidedly doesn't flee the general store, feeling like the fires of hell are chasing him. As soon as he's out of the store, he begins to run. He runs, and he runs, and he runs. Once, he thinks he hears someone call to him, sounding overly concerned, but he doesn't stop. He just keeps running and running and running, long passed when his chest starts to burn, long passed when his body begs him to stop and take a break. He just keeps running, hoping that if he runs fast enough, maybe he'll be able to escape the moment that he'd stupidly allowed himself to have. The accursed vulnerability that has always been destined to be his downfall. He runs like his life depends upon it and maybe, in some way, it does.
It truly, truly does.
Finally, Kiyotaka has no idea how long later, he finds himself halting outside Hope's Peak, feet stopping so abruptly it takes his brain a second to catch up, having no idea how he'd gotten here. He'd not followed the path he recalls Naegi taking them along, his feet running him down endless streets, not caring which direction he went. But still, somehow, he managed to find himself here. At the source of all his problems.
But oh, he's just being dramatic, isn't he? Yes! Dramatic! This isn't the end of the world, he tells himself harshly, as he walks as fast as he can without running, wanting nothing more than to be back in his dorm, safe and sound, far, far away from Mondo Owada and that awful moment in that general store. God, he wants that. More than anything...
Thankfully, no one stops him in his pursuit, and he is able to enter his room without delay, his chest still heaving from the breaths he's not taken in several long minutes. Feeling lightheaded, Kiyotaka practically collapses against his door, sliding to the floor as the tears finally fall, his chest aching from more than just exertion, though he fervently denies it.
He... he had... what had he almost done? Now, alone in his room, he's finally safe enough to open the floodgates and actually think about what had happened, trying desperately to sort through the jumbled mess that is his mind. But... but, as more and more thoughts fly past, feelings and thoughts and ideas, he realizes how futile it all is. He can't make sense of this. He can't make sense of any of it. He's hopeless to find any sense at all, whatsoever.
After all, what sense is there to be found in him almost kissing Mondo freaking Owada?!
Kiyotaka gasps harshly at the thought, more tears leaking down his face as he closes his eyes, banging his head sharply against the door.
No. N-no, that's wrong... t-that- that's wrong! No! N-n-n-no! No no no no no no no no no! He hadn't almost- he hadn't wanted to- he hadn't... hadn't... no... no! No! No! N-no... no...?
(He would have thought he'd learned his lesson already… would have known better than to- to want… to want-)
Kiyotaka gasps again, head reeling and heart aching and wanting nothing more than to just lay down and not get up again. It would be simpler than trying to sort out the mess he'd just made.
But he... he can't do that, now can he? Oh, no... no, he can't. He's Kiyotaka Ishimaru. Son of Takaaki and Kiyoshi Ishimaru. Grandson of Toranosuke Ishimaru. He is not a quitter. He does not give up. He refuses! He refuses! He is an Ishimaru, and while the whole world may think that name is synonymous with scoundrel and cheat, it is up to him to change that! He can't give up now, not because of one... one... criminal! His family is depending on him! His father is depending on him! He cannot let them down! He will not let them down! He refuses!
Determination firm in his heart, Kiyotaka takes all the thoughts and pain and hurt that are still racing around in his head, and shoves them down, down, down, so far deep into his hippocampus that he will never, ever be able to access them. There. That... that settles that.
Body aching, his legs uselessly weak from the torment he'd just put them through, Kiyotaka stands shakily and wobbles over to his bathroom, realizing that he desperately could use a shower, needing to wash the grime of the day off. It's barely even 2:00 in the afternoon, honestly, and he's already so exhausted he doesn't know what to think. What to feel. He wants to crawl into bed and sleep forever, but he knows he can't. He's already put off his schooling long enough.
Mind purposely empty of all thoughts, Kiyotaka turns on the shower, letting the warm water run for several seconds, just staring blankly at it, before realizing he has to actually get in the shower. And so, he does, his mind so lethargic that he forgets to take off his uniform first. But that- that's okay. He doesn't... he doesn't mind. He'll just have to wash the thing later today, that's all. He remains where he is, ramrod straight under the relentless downpour, until his legs can't hold his weight anymore and he collapses into a heap on the floor of his shower, face wet only because of the water bearing down on him, nothing else.
It takes him far longer than usual, but he eventually finds the strength to get up and turn the water off. He steps out of the shower and resolutely refuses to look in the mirror, knowing he won't like what he sees. He never does, even on a good day, but he's not self-destructive enough to allow himself to do something he knows will only obliterate him.
As he takes out his literature textbook— somehow having gotten out of his wet clothes and into fresh ones, though only the gods know how, since he has no idea how that occurred, mind too messed up for that— he gives himself over to the words in the book. Words he's read a thousand times before, but that he still doesn't grow tired of (so he tells himself). Words that aren't insulting him. Words that don't call him a f*g, ruining everything he'd managed to tentatively build up in one fell swoop.
It's a good thing he's never liked Mondo Owada, not even slightly.
This would hurt a lot more if he had.
(It hurts. Oh, god, it hurts.
Kiyotaka, if he allowed himself, would wonder if this is what dying feels like.
It's a good thing he's such a good liar.)
Okay, so... this had not originally been planned when I started writing this chapter, but as I got writing, it just... flowed. And then Mondo and Taka were almost kissing, but this is a slow burn, so we can't have that, can we? They're not even friends yet!
But, as for the slur... hm. I am not going to excuse it, as nothing excuses using slurs, but please know that I am not writing Mondo to be secretly homophobic and for this story to follow the awful "homophobic bully realizing he's homophobic because he's gay and once he realizes that, everything ends wonderfully!" Yeah... no.
I more had Mondo use the slur to showcase something that comes up a lot in this story, which is that Mondo, when he feels cornered or threatened or confused... will say literally any and everything he can to regain his lost control. He hates feeling weak in canon, and in this story I wanted to play with that, to show how far he will go when he wants to regain his supposed lost strength. He will say things he doesn't even believe just to make the other person leave him alone, because that keeps him safe. And while I couldn't show it in this chapter, since it's all Taka's POV, the thoughts going through Mondo's mind were, uh... not family friendly, I will tell you that, ha. And that freaked him out, which angered him and triggered his "get the hell away from me" instinct. If anyone is super, super curious, I may be able to post the part I wrote from Mondo's POV for that part of the scene on my Tumblr. It might not make sense without context, but let me know and I'll see what I can do.
Anyway! I hope you can, in time, forgive Mondo (and me!) for what occurred in this chapter. I couldn't have them be friends just yet, though. I had a good plan for that, and I truly love how that chapter turned out, and can't wait for y'all to see it. :-) Not too long left, promise! And then this story gets really fun. In my opinion, at least. Ha.
Thanks for reading!