Hi all!
Sorry I didn't post yesterday! I was actually gonna post Saturday, but then a friend of a friend needed help and it took longer than expected. And yesterday I wasn't feeling well, so I was in bed most of the day. I hope the chapter makes up for it! I like this chapter, even though I had to edit it a bit.
Someone last chapter commented that they're not liking how harsh Mondo is to Taka, and honestly, I get it. I wanted to show that they are not getting along well at all, to contrast them becoming friends. One thing that bugged me in the game was that before the sauna scene, they never really interacted, so the whole change in their dynamic wasn't very striking. To me, at least. But don't worry! They become friends soon, so if anyone is getting annoyed with their whole rivalry, don't worry.
Enjoy!
It really is remarkable what a good night's sleep and a few days of relative peace can do for a person, truly. Kiyotaka sits in his literature class, copying down notes from the board, feeling better than he has in... well, weeks, probably.
It's a marvel what having a truce with Mondo Owada can do for your mentality, his mind whispers to him softly. He pushes it aside. It's not helpful, here.
Still… now that he and the biker are no longer sniping at one another (and are not really interacting much at all, in fact, now that Owada has actually been true to his word and is not really breaking many rules, a fact that he definitely is not disappointed about, not at all, why would he feel disappointment at all, really?) he can focus on the actually important things in life.
Like his literature teacher discussing a short English story they'd been assigned the previous week, talking about symbolism of all things.
His favorite topic, truly…
"Now, can anyone explain to the class what the author meant by describing the room as blue?"
Ah, now that is an easy one! Metaphor and allusion sadly do not come naturally to Kiyotaka, let alone symbolism and all of that, but he's fairly certain he knows the meaning behind the author's color choice. It's a fairly common symbol in English literature after all! At least, if the internet is to be believed…
However, though his hand— and several other hands— are raised, the teacher slides her eyes over the usual suspects and settles them onto another student, who is currently hunched over in his seat and is staring at the wall, appearing very bored. Not that Kiyotaka is looking! N-not at all! Aha!
"Owada-san! Can you please explain the meaning behind the blue walls?"
Almost against his will, Kiyotaka feels his eyes dart over to the biker, who is currently flushing lightly at having been called out. Since their... truce, the teen has, in fact, been on better behavior, actually following the rules as best he can. They've done as they said and have avoided one another for the most part, but Kiyotaka cannot help how his eyes are drawn to the teen while in class, eyes intent despite himself. He truly doesn't know why he can't seem to look away…
Yet, despite the fact Owada is doing better, it still doesn't seem like he is putting that much effort into his class work. This is evidenced by the fact he gets a kind of clueless expression on his face, his hand coming up to awkwardly rub at the back of his neck. Like he usually does when nervous. N-not that-! Not that Kiyotaka notices such a thing! Aha! Ha…
"Aw, shi- I mean, uh... shoot. I dunno. It's his favorite color or somethin'?"
The teacher gives Owada a disappointed stare as some of the other students titter, which makes Owada look even more embarrassed, the biker sinking down in his seat as he crosses his arms.
"Owada-san, did you do the reading?" the teacher asks, to which the biker— surprisingly— nods his head jerkily. The teacher nods back. "Well, then I'm sure you noticed the emotional state of the narrator during the story. Symbolism is big in literature, particularly in English classics. Tell me, can you not think of a single reason why the author would specifically say that the walls were blue as compared to, say, red?"
Kiyotaka bites his lip— a nasty habit that he cannot seem to break no matter how hard he tries— feeling kind of bad for the biker as the teen hunches his shoulders, looking almost miserable with the focus on him. Kiyotaka has made sure, over the years, to study hard so that he never was forced into such a position without at least knowing the answer, but he knows what it feels like to be hopelessly lost as to what is expected of him in a situation. After all, he feels it every time he has a conversation with anyone, not understanding social interaction whatsoever, books not helping him figure it out much. He hates feeling sympathy towards Owada, of all people, though, so he quickly looks away, back to the front of the class.
"Uh... I dunno, it matched the carpet?"
More titters of laughter echo across the classroom, though they are silenced quickly by a quelling look from the teacher, who sighs tiredly as she looks at Owada again.
"No, Owada-san. Think. Color choice is a big part of symbolic expression, especially in written works. Think of yourself. You usually wear black and white, yes? Why do you wear those colors as opposed to gray? Or orange? Or yellow? Color has meaning, it expresses something. Now, try again. Why were the walls blue?"
Kiyotaka can't help but sneak a glance at Owada once more, curiosity getting the better of him, and has to bite his lip again at the pissed off look he sees on Owada's face. Oh, dear. And he's been doing so much better these past five days, too...
However, instead of cursing the teacher out or getting angry, Owada just shakes his head, tossing his hands up in exasperation.
"Look, I don't know, alright?! What does it even matter, why the walls were blue?! They're just fu-fricken blue! An' I wear black an' white 'cuz it's the colors a' my gang, obviously. I got yellow on here, too, but it ain't got any fricken meanin'! It just... it's just what I wear. I really don't know what ya expect from me here, Teach."
The teacher gives Owada a hard stare, but the teen just stares back, frown on his lips. He looks extremely uncomfortable, but he's not storming away so that's... something?
"It does have meaning. Think back to the story. The narrator had just learned that his brother had died, yes? What was he feeling?" The teacher pauses for a second, waiting for Owada to reply, but the teen just scowls, shrugging while shaking his head. The teacher sighs again. "Sorrow, Owada-san. He was feeling anguish. By saying the walls were blue, the author can express that anguish without having to say it outright, something that would take time out of the piece to say, when the author doesn't have to. By saying the room is blue, the audience gains insight into the mentality of the narrator without having to be expressively told. Do you understand what I'm saying, Owada-san?"
Owada scowls, shaking his head.
"Not really, ta be honest. But whatever, I'll take yer word on it."
Another sigh from the teacher, but she doesn't seem inclined to give up. Kiyotaka is starting to feel uncomfortable. Why isn't the teacher leaving Owada alone? Is she trying to embarrass him? He squirms in his seat, still looking at Owada, who is just glaring at his desk angrily.
"What don't you understand, Owada-san? Explain to me what you're thinking."
Owada looks up at this, eyes blazing, mouth scowling. He half stands, almost like he doesn't mean to, and slams his hands onto the desk. Oh dear...
"I don't know, alright?! I don't fuc- I mean fricken know! I'm not tryin' ta be stupid, alright?! I just... why go through all that effort, huh? Why not just say that the narrator was sad his brother died? 'His brother died, an' he was sad.' There. Easy. 'S what I'd do. Then there wouldn't be any, I dunno... ambiguity or anythin'. 'Cuz how can ya know the walls mean he's sad? What, did he paint 'em after his brother died or somethin'?! Sometimes, walls are just blue. Ain't gotta mean shi- I mean. Ain't gotta mean nothin'. Why bother usin' wall color ta try an' explain how a character is feelin', instead a' just sayin' it? Sounds like lazy writin', ta me."
With that, Owada plops back down into his seat, face red and bitter scowl on his lips. His arms are wrapped tightly around himself, looking less like they're crossed and more like he's almost hugging himself. Kiyotaka wonders, absently, if his mental walls are currently red.
Still, despite how angry and embarrassed he is, he still doesn't storm out, like the teen had done plenty of times the previous week. It's... progress?
The teacher doesn't look like she thinks so. Her face is pinched and angry looking. Honestly, Kiyotaka doesn't understand why. She got what she wanted, didn't she? Owada had analyzed and expressed opinion over the text, even if it wasn't exactly what she had in mind. Why does it matter if the teen doesn't quite understand the symbolism of the piece? At least he's interacting with it for once, which is good, right? Especially for someone who has never expressed any sort of opinion over class work at all before? People have never made sense to him...
"Please see me after class, Owada-san, so that we may go into this in more detail. Now, after the narrator goes home after the funeral, who can tell me..."
Kiyotaka continues to listen to the teacher as she asks her questions, raising his hand to answer and getting called on a few times. He keeps an eye on Owada, despite himself, and can't help but feel bad for the teen. He knows what it's like to be picked on by teachers and it always feels awful, even when he had known the answers. He doesn't think their teacher was trying to pick on Owada, was just trying— erroneously— to make him understand, but he guesses it wouldn't feel like that to the other teen. Especially with the whole 'meet me after class' thing looming over him. He does his best to force all thoughts of the biker out of his mind as he continues to work, but it's a narrow thing…
Eventually, the class winds to a close and the teacher tells them their assignment for the following class, which is to interpret another translated English short story that sounds needlessly tedious and dull. Not that he's particularly complaining! He likes tedium, it eats up a lot of the hours of the day. As he is tidying up his space, neatly putting his materials away as he gets ready to leave for his next class, he hears the teacher call his name.
"Ishimaru-san, will you please come to see me before you leave? I have something to request of you."
Hm. Well, that's not ominous...
Nervous, afraid he's done something wrong (even though he has no idea what he possibly could have done), he hurries to put his things away, wanting to see what the matter is. His pace slows when he gets to the front and sees Owada standing there, the teacher giving him a considering look as she speaks to him.
"-did a good job finding meaning in the piece, even if it wasn't entirely what I had in mind. However, it's imperative that you understand symbolism, Owada-san, if you want any hope of understanding the American novel we're about to read. Fahrenheit 451 has a lot of symbolism and I would hate for you to fail simply because you do not understand what the author is trying to say, do you understand me?"
Owada scowls, putting his hands in his pocket as he looks down. Kiyotaka feels awkward as he slowly inches towards the desk, hoping that the teacher will finish her conversation with Owada quickly, so he doesn't have to unintentionally eavesdrop any longer…
"Still don't see the big deal. Why can't authors just say what they mean? An' why we gotta read American stuff anyway? We're Japanese."
The teacher sighs again, shaking her head.
"American and English literature is a large part of literature in general, Owada-san. We will be reading plenty of Asian, African, Central American, and other similar literature as well throughout the year. And as for the point of symbolism, I'm afraid that is not something I can explain to you in this short amount of time," the teacher explains calmly, before looking up at Kiyotaka as he approaches, realizing that this conversation was not going to end anytime soon. She smiles at him kindly, inclining her head politely in greeting. He can feel eyes staring holes into him, a sensation he's gotten unfortunately used to, so he just ignores it as he clears his throat, bowing slightly back.
"Ah, Miyamoto-sensei, was there something you wanted from me?!" Kiyotaka questions, his nerves making his voice forceful. He's not yelling, though, so at least there's that... the teacher smiles kindly again, nodding once.
"Ah, yes, Ishimaru-san, you're right on time. I have a favor to ask of you. You have been doing very well in this class, behind only Fukawa-san in grades, and I know you have experience with tutoring. As such, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind assisting Owada-san with understanding the meaning of symbolism in literature? I'm afraid I do not have the time to go over such a thing with him, and we are starting our novel next week. I would be incredibly grateful if you could assist me, Ishimaru-san, and help bring Owada-san up to speed. I will put in a good word for you with the headmaster if you do."
A-ah... ah!
Kiyotaka flushes bright red as he realizes what the teacher is asking, resolutely not looking at Owada, not wanting to see his reaction to such a request. Such a ridiculous request, obviously! Him, tutor Owada?! No! Definitely not! That's a recipe for disaster if he's ever heard one!
Ignoring Owada's indignant spluttering, Kiyotaka turns wide eyes to the teacher, shaking his head firmly once. However, seeing her confused frown, he realizes he has to be careful. After all, he doesn't want to have to explain his childish feud with the biker to the teacher... how mortifying!
"A-ah, Miyamoto-sensei-! Is there no one else who could tutor Owada-kun?! I- I'm fairly busy this week a-and I'm not sure I'd be the best person to explain this to Owada-kun... w-wouldn't Fukawa-kun be a better choice? O-or Yamada-kun? They both likely know more about literature than me!"
The disappointed look the teacher gives him makes him feel terrible. Oh no! He hadn't wanted that! Before this year, he'd never had teachers who actually seemed to like him, despite how diligent of a student he knows he is, so disappointing the ones who seem to appreciate his work ethic feels terrible! But... but, well... it's not like he can actually tutor Owada! They'd kill each other!
"Yeah, an' I don't need no fricken tutor! Particularly not a goody-two-shoes like Ishimaru! Come on, Teach-"
Owada is cut off by a sharp look from the teacher, who is standing as tall as she can to look the teen in the eyes. It's not fair that she can look so intimidating, really… she is a fairly small elderly woman, barely coming up to Kiyotaka's collarbone with almost entirely silver hair. Not exactly a ferocious looking woman; more like a kindly, old grandmother. However… in that moment, she looks so intimidating he doesn't fault Owada for how he shrinks, scowling lightly to himself as he looks away, cheeks dusty pink.
"You do not have any right to say anything, Owada-san, considering your grades in this class. I know this school does not prioritize you Ultimates doing well in your general classes, but as long as I am your teacher, I will not stand by while one of my students fails. Especially not when I know that you could do better if you only tried. Is that understood, Owada-san?"
Kiyotaka watches as Owada nods minutely, looking chagrined for once. Huh. He supposes miracles do happen... the teacher nods back and then continues.
"Now, you are a bright young man, and I have full confidence that you can understand the work if you just put the effort in. I truly believe having a tutor will be of benefit to you. Now, Ishimaru-san..." the teacher says, looking back at him with a frown. He can't help how he squirms under her critical gaze, the woman looking almost disappointed in him. Oh, he hates disappointing people, teachers especially... "I suppose if you are, indeed, too busy, there is not much I can do about it. Could you not spare an hour or two, however? While Fukawa-san and Yamada-san are, indeed, good at literature, I do not know how well their temperaments would work with tutoring. I suppose I can ask an older student, but it would be more of a hassle. I can offer you extra credit as well, if that would help, to sweeten the deal?"
Nnnn... argh! Curse him and his inability to say no to authority figures!
"A-ah! Of course, Miyamoto-sensei, I am sure I can find the time! You needn't offer me extra credit; it would be an honor to assist you! I-if Owada-kun is willing, I will not mind tutoring him!"
That's a lie, but he only stumbles on the words a little as they come out, so he doesn't think the teacher notices. And at least now the ball, as it were, is in Owada's court! Surely the biker won't want Kiyotaka to tutor him anymore than he wants to tutor Owada... right?
"Aw, come on! There seriously no one other than this nerd, Miyamoto-sensei? I fuc- uh, fricken hate him!"
Unbidden, Kiyotaka feels his cheeks heat, looking at the ground. Well! He didn't have to put it so frankly! He can hear the teacher let out a soft noise of annoyance, and he can imagine the unimpressed stare the woman levels on the biker.
"I do not see why such a petty thing should matter, Owada-san! Ishimaru-san is a very excellent student and is one of the best tutors this school has to offer! You should feel honored that he is willing to offer his time to help you," the teacher reprimands firmly, but not harshly. "I will not waste my time looking for another tutor for you if your only complaint is that you do not like him. Of course, you don't have to accept tutoring, but I will tell you that with the way you are going, you will fail this course if you don't, which is a shame. You have the capability to do more if you just applied yourself. I know you do. Or do you simply wish to fail?"
Kiyotaka is shocked— when his eyes dart back up despite himself— to see Owada flush, the biker looking at the ground, that chagrined expression back on his face. Wow. He wouldn't have expected Owada, of all people, to care about his grades...
"Aw, shit- I mean, uh shoot. Ugh. Fine. Fine! Whatever, I don't fricken care! You," Owada growls, pointing at Kiyotaka with a forceful finger, not looking at him, "tomorrow, after class, library. Yer late, I ain't gonna hang 'round. Got it? Good. Now I'm out. See ya later, Teach."
With that, Owada storms away, his back tense and awkward, black duster billowing behind him as he goes. Kiyotaka blinks, shocked at the abrupt words. Owada... is accepting his tutoring help? Somewhat willingly? Ha! What alternate universe has he stumbled into...?
"Ah, I'm sorry for this Ishimaru-san... I know that Owada-san can be very... prickly, but I honestly believe there is more to him than that and if he were to just apply himself, he'd surely succeed. However, if it's too much, I will not force you to continue tutoring him. All I ask is that you do your best, alright? Do the one session and, if it doesn't work out, I can try and find someone else for him. Do you have any questions?"
Kiyotaka shakes his head slowly, smiling shakily at the woman.
"No, sensei. I- I'm good! I will admit, Owada-kun and I... do not get on very well-" understatement of the century- "but I will do my best to help him with the course material! I have tutored plenty of people who I have not been on the best of terms with and have managed just fine! You need not worry!"
And he does mean that. He's actually tutored some of his bullies before, the kids hating it but knowing that Kiyotaka was one of the best tutors available. He's very efficient and is ironically good at explaining things in a simple, succinct way, which is beneficial to have in a tutor. He's even been paid for it, once or twice, though he usually just does it either as a favor to a teacher or for extra credit. Or, a few times, because he had hoped it would make kids like him more, to disappointing results.
However, something tells him that this particular tutoring job will be the hardest of them all...
~XoxoxoxoxoxoX~
It's 3:24 on a chilly, Wednesday afternoon in October. The weather is overcast, the threat of an upcoming storm looming over the school like a dark omen, promising biting rain and bitter chills. A day like this is perfect for curling up in the library, book in hand and worries miles away.
So, why is it that Kiyotaka is finding himself frozen outside the entrance to one of his favorite rooms, hand outstretched as it hovers uselessly over the library door handle?
Okay. Well, he knows why, of course he does! But it's, quite frankly, ridiculous! He is Kiyotaka Ishimaru! He does not back down from anything! He fights through his fear and uncertainty and always comes out on top! Always! He is determined to get through this too, to prove to the world— and to himself— that Mondo Owada will not get the better of him!
He knows this. He feels this. He breathes this.
And yet, all the determination in the world cannot seem to get him to breach the last few centimeters between his hand and the door.
Gah! Argh! Phooey! This is ridiculous!
Alright. Alright, alright, alright. Okay. Think of this rationally.
It's just Owada, right? While the biker is, admittedly, very explosive, he knows the teen. Regrettable, yes, but still. He knows how quick to temper the teen is, and as such he should be able to figure out how to be as unassuming as possible to get through this meeting. He'd spent over an hour yesterday preparing for this session, even! He'd organized the material in a very logical, easy to digest way that even Owada couldn't find offending. Sure, he'll have to wait until after gauging Owada's current level in literature before he can make a personalized tutoring schedule, but he has a plan— a good plan!— onto how to best engage Owada without, hopefully, offending the overly irritable biker. As long as he can keep his own temper, he should be fine!
But, well... maybe that's what's concerning him the most. The fact that he's not sure if he can trust himself to keep his cool.
Which is ridiculous! Completely and utterly ridiculous! He is Kiyotaka Ishimaru! Ultimate Moral Compass! He should not be afraid of losing his temper! He should be able to keep his head in any situation, no matter who he is speaking to! He needs to stop being so ridiculous!
Okay. Okay! Okay. He can handle this. Owada... means nothing to him. This is just a job, just like any other. Focus, Taka. Don't lose yourself.
Unbidden, a flash of that day enters his mind. Heart stopping closeness and aching warmth. Lavender eyes looking at him like he actually means something. A thumping heart, shaky breath, a second away from almost making the worst mistake in the world.
A fervent wish that he hadn't stopped himself in time.
He-
No! Stop! Bad!
Argh!
Okay! Okay! OKAY!
Ugh.
Kiyotaka lets out a breath, shaking his head to clear it of all thoughts and— before he can talk himself out of it— grabs the door handle, pushes with all his might, and quickly strides into the room. Ha! There. He did it.
... Now what?
Well, he supposes he should go try and find Owada... assuming the other teen is here already. He'd realized soon after the teen had left the previous day that they'd not set a specific time (after class is very nondescript, after all), so he'd written Owada a note and left it on his desk this morning before home room, telling him to meet him in the library at 3:30 sharp, a half hour after school ended. He knows the biker read it, as he'd been surreptitiously glancing in the direction of the teen's desk, eyes intent when the biker had finally shown up and saw the note. He'd briefly panicked when Owada had immediately looked up and had met his eyes but had calmed when the biker had just nodded jerkily and sat down.
Presently, it is 3:29, which means that Kiyotaka is one minute early. It's pushing it, by his standards, but he had just spent the last five minutes standing outside the door, trying to psych himself up to enter, so...
That's what makes him think the other teen wouldn't be there yet, since he hadn't seen him try and enter within the last five minutes, and unless he'd come straight from class, he probably wouldn't have arrived first... right?
Wrong.
Kiyotaka blinks as he finds Owada sitting at a table near the back, a more secluded one than Kiyotaka usually goes for, but probably works better for their purposes. The teen actually has his literature textbook out, and from what he can see, it's actually open to the right page, too. And if Kiyotaka isn't mistaken he seems to be... reading? Willingly?
Okay. Well, that's not that surprising, considering why they're here, yes? It's just... unusual, he supposes. He's never actually seen Owada doing any work, the teen usually spending his days lounging in the general rooms or playing games in the rec room (which he only knows because of his patrols, not because he's stalking the teen, thank you very much!). Or else outside, riding his motorcycle through the city. He doesn't think he's ever seen Owada so much as open a book, let alone read one... and it's... strange...
Owada looks focused when he reads, Kiyotaka thinks absently, eyes roving over the teen unbidden. And he does, oddly enough. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips are turned down, but his eyes are focused fully on the text before him, flicking back and forth as he reads. Sometimes his lips will move, like he's trying to figure out the feel of a word, testing it out mentally. It... it's really distracting...
Kiyotaka gets jolted out of his weird reverie when Owada looks up abruptly, the teen's focused look fading into annoyance as soon as he catches sight of Kiyotaka, a harsh scowl replacing the soft, almost gentle frown from a moment before. Kiyotaka pushes away the stab of pain at the look and hurries to take a seat.
He freezes, halfway seated, when he hears Owada growl at him.
"Yer late," Owada growls, sounding annoyed. Blinking, Kiyotaka looks up at the teen, frowning when the words register. He finishes sitting, shaking his head emphatically.
"What?! No, I'm not! I'm never late!"
Which is true! Punctuality is of vital importance! He's never late for anything, ever!
Owada just raises an eyebrow and looks over to the clock on the wall pointedly. Kiyotaka look over as well and finds that it— to his utter shock— reads 3:32.
Grk!
Kiyotaka flushes as he realizes he must have been staring— er, looking, very casually— at Owada for a bit longer than he'd realized... so, technically he hadn't been late, but how exactly could he explain that without confessing that he'd been star- looking at Owada for almost three whole minutes? He could imagine that going over well... Well, Owada-kun, you see, I got here perfectly on time! It was only because I was so distracted watching you read— a look of such intense focus on your face that I didn't want to break— that I was regrettably made late! So, in a way, my tardiness is your fault, not mine!
Ha. He bets that would go over well.
Still... he can't just admit that he was late! That would be like admitting he'd murdered someone! He can't do that!
So, flush on his cheeks, Kiyotaka starts removing his supplies from his bag, muttering out a semi-plausible excuse.
"W-well... my watch must be a few minutes slow, is all. I'll have to fix it later. N-now!" Kiyotaka hurries on, ignoring Owada's snort of disbelief, which is understandable since Kiyotaka doesn't even have a working watch anymore. "I believe we are here for tutoring, not idle chit-chat! Have you done the reading?"
Ha. Like he doesn't already know Owada has. He watches, insides squirming, as Owada rolls his eyes, nodding tightly.
"Yeh, just got it done. Fuckin' sucked, made abs'lutely no sense, but I read it. The fuck is this gonna go, anyway? I ain't gonna sit here bein' lectured by ya, tightass, so don't go gettin' any ideas..."
Kiyotaka clenches his jaw at the foul language, glaring lightly at Owada, his temper rising. He tries to push it down, knowing it won't help him here, but he can't help it when he barks out, "language! We are in a library; such crude language is uncalled for! We are still on school grounds, after all!"
He didn't really mean to, honest! He had told himself he wouldn't, if the biker chose to curse, like he is wont to do. But not even a minute in and he already broke one of his promises to himself.
This truly is going to end in disaster, isn't it...?
Judging by how Owada glares at him, scowl deepening even further, he has a foreboding feeling go through him. Great. Wonderful. Just peachy...
"Alright, listen here, fuckwad. I already don't wanna be here, got me? Either deal with my shitty language, or I'm out. I'll try an' watch myself, but I ain't makin' no promises, so if ya can't handle that, then yer free ta leave now!"
Kiyotaka wants to bite back, to say that he's the one doing Owada a favor, not the other way around. He'd had to rearrange his patrol schedule to come to this meeting that Owada had set up without asking him, after all!
But...
He keeps the words in, knowing it will just make things infinitely worse if he lets them out, and takes a deep breath instead, steadying himself.
It's been two minutes.
This is going to be a long hour.
"Alright. Fine! Whatever, Owada. Now, I have some things prepared for you, but first I need to know what you know and what you are less certain on. I can either verbally quiz you, or you can take a written quiz I have prepared. Which would you prefer?"
Kiyotaka is impressed with himself. Not only was he able to keep his cool, but he had managed to keep himself from being overly forceful like he normally is. Huh. Small miracles, there...
Owada gives him an incredulous look, though, snorting and shaking his head, breaking Kiyotaka out of his thoughts. What? What had he said that Owada was incredulous over?
"The fuck? No one said anythin' 'bout a fuckin' quiz! What game ya playin', Ishimaru?"
Ahh. So that was what had stumped the teen. Perhaps he should have been clearer...
"Ah! No, of course not! I apologize, I should have been clearer! This is less of a quiz and more... well, like a benchmark! I simply need to know what you already understand and what you need help with, so that I can be of the most assistance and don't waste either of our time. Does that make sense?" Seeing Owada's blank stare, he figures he should tell the teen an example. Biting his lip, he continues. "Like... here's an example. What do you know about symbolism, in general?"
Owada blinks, that soft frown back, eyebrows furrowed as he thinks. His hand rises and rubs the back of his neck, which makes Kiyotaka know that he's unsure or nervous. He has to look away after a moment, something about the almost uncertain expression on the biker's usually confident face making his face flush most unpleasantly. How peculiar...
"Uh... not much? I mean," Owada continues quickly, seeing Kiyotaka's frown, cheeks flushing red and scowl returning, "I dunno! It's, like... metaphor, yeah? Describin' somethin' but meanin' somethin' else?"
Ahh... not... not quite...
"Hm... is that all you know?"
Owada flushes further, hunching his shoulders, looking almost miserable. Oh no! He hadn't meant to embarrass the teen! He may not like the biker much, but he doesn't want to make him upset! Hm, maybe he should take a different approach...
"That's okay! No need to worry! We can just start going over what symbolism is, in general, and work from there. Now, it is interesting that you mention metaphor..."
Kiyotaka continues on, doing his best to explain what symbolism is in a simple, easy to understand way.
After about five minutes, Owada is looking very frustrated, and he isn't faring much better himself...
"What?! But why! Just fuckin' say what ya mean! Man, why the fuck does this gotta be so fuckin' confusin'?! ... am I just an idiot? Shit, no, don't fuckin' answer that!"
He feels a pang of sympathy for the biker, understanding what he means. Truth be told, symbolism is kind of tricky for him, too. It had taken him several days of studying only symbolism, multiple hours dedicated to it each day, for him to even start understanding it better. Even still, he gets tripped up sometimes, certain turns of phrases confusing him, particularly those revolving around emotions or popular references. Personally, while he gets the point of symbolism, he's kind of with Owada here. Which is something he'd never expected to say!
Clearing his throat, he pushes past the frankly terrifying realization that he and Owada agree on something and tries to reassure the teen. Which is another strange thing...
"Owada-kun, I do not think you are an idiot! This is simply confusing! I had a similar problem myself, once! But I know with some hard work and effort, from the both of us, I can help you understand it!"
Owada glares at him, scowling again. Great. Seems he said the wrong thing, then. Ugh, why is this so hard?!
With a soft sigh, Kiyotaka shakes his head, looking at the teen sideways.
"Didn't... didn't you ever learn about this in middle or primary school? Perhaps if we can go over what you were taught back then, we can figure out where to go from there?"
Owada flushes again, looking down at his hands on the table. He clenches them, looking uncomfortable, but not angry, at least. Well, other than the default anger he tends to always have… but it's better than before, so he's tentatively calling it a win.
"Shit, man, ya think I ever learned this shit at school? Like hell. Never really went ta school, not really. Was always suspended or expelled or shit. Then there was the time I was in juvie... an' even when I was in class, ain't like they ever cared if any a' us knew shit. So, it ain't like I had a chance ta learn any a' this shit. It never made sense an' it's not like it's gonna matter. Ain't… ain't like I'm ever gonna do anythin' with my fuckin' life… fuck, man. This is fuckin' hopeless... shit. Goddamnit. Just... just fuckin' go. I'll figure somethin' out on my own. Always fuckin' do…"
Kiyotaka can't help the way he is staring at Owada, blinking at the information the biker had just revealed. It seems Owada has reached his limit, then... but... biting his lip softly, Kiyotaka shakes his head slowly.
"No, it's not hopeless, Owada-kun. You just have some catching up to do, that's all! But I believe that you can do it! A-and I'll do my best to help you, I promise! I just... I just might need some time to figure out how to best explain this to you clearly... there may be some books on the subject that can better explain this than I can. I'm not the best with symbolism myself, after all! But I know you can figure it out! With hard work, anything is possible!" he enthuses, eyes practically sparkling with determination. It's his life's motto, after all. Anything is possible as long as you work hard for it! It's what he tells himself every day!
Owada, it seems, is not as impressed with his mantra as he is, if the derisive snort is any indication. Kiyotaka frowns over at the teen, who is rolling his eyes and smirking at him.
"Ya don't really believe that crap, do ya?" Owada questions, rolling his eyes again when Kiyotaka firmly nods, opening his mouth to explain in more detail. He is halted when Owada holds up a hand, a smirk on his lips. "Okay, alright, shit. Don't need a lecture, goddamn."
Owada pauses again, seeming to collect his thoughts, before sighing, his shoulders loosening from the tense knot he'd been holding them in, a look of— is that... resignation? Yes, yes, it is resignation— passing on his face. It makes him, somehow, look both years younger and years older at the same time, defying all logic. He looks tired and worn, and there's a tiny, self-deprecating smile on the teen's face, so contrary to how he usually looks that it just feels so very... wrong to see. Kiyotaka has never seen such a look on the teen's face before and... and he... he has to admit, he kind of hates it. Like... really kind of hates it.
Like... despises it.
He wants to make it go away...
"Look, Ishimaru. I'm gonna be honest with ya. I... I ain't exactly smart, ya know? I ain't like you. This stuff... it makes no sense. Readin' makes my head swim, the words all tiny an' blurry an' shit. An' what's the point a' tryin', anyway? Like I said, ain't like I'm gonna need any a' this shit in my life. I'm a fuckin' biker, fer Christ's sake. Ain't like I need ta know why walls are blue. Don't wanna let Teach down, but... well, it's her fuckin' fault fer thinkin' I'm better than I fuckin' am! 'Ve never pretended ta be anythin' I ain't! I just... I just ain't cut out fer this school shit, man. So, thanks, I guess, but there ain't no point in this shit. No point draggin' ya inta this mess too, huh? So, it's fine. We ain't gotta do this again. I'll figure somethin' out myself."
Owada says the words plainly and nonchalantly, like they don't matter at all, but Kiyotaka can see the way his eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth downturned into a bitter frown. Over the past month, Kiyotaka has (somehow) gotten good enough at reading the teen that he knows, instinctively, that while the teen may say he doesn't care, in all actuality, miraculously... he does.
A lot.
Huh.
But, based on the words, it seems like he's about ready to give up. On himself, on school... he's about ready to... to quit...!
(The idea of it... of giving up... of Owada giving up, when he has so much potential, when he has that soft, raw, bloody interior that Kiyotaka has seen only glimpses of but desperately craves to see more of... the thought that Owada cares, that he wants to do better, but that he just can't figure out where to even start... the thought of Owada just... just giving up...
Well. It shifts something inside Kiyotaka, breaks through something he'd thought he'd closed up long ago, and lets it break free. If he were paying more attention, if he weren't so focused on trying to help Owada, a person he hates (and yet, also, doesn't), then maybe he would have been able to stop it in time, to prevent it from taking over him and causing the havoc it always did when he was a child.
But he wasn't careful. He wasn't paying attention. He was too focused on Owada, too focused on his sympathy— his empathy— seeing himself as a child, so close to giving up on all of his goals if it weren't for his determination and drive... and his... his passion...)
Kiyotaka's eyes snap up, a fire in them that had once gone out years ago— a fire he'd put out himself to keep himself safe—now rekindled, as bright and as brilliant as ever.
Because no! He won't let Owada give up on himself! Not on Kiyotaka Ishimaru's watch! Not when he can see that the teenager does, actually, care! Quitters never prosper, and he will not let one of his classmates— no, he won't let Owada— give up on himself! Not now, not ever!
Standing with his enthusiasm, Kiyotaka stares down at Owada with that fire in his eyes, pointing at him passionately, not even thinking of how rude such a gesture is. Owada just looks up at him dumbly, his mouth hanging open in bafflement, looking completely lost at Kiyotaka's abrupt change in temperament. But Kiyotaka doesn't see that, not with how his mind is racing, plans and ideas flying around, too fast for him to capture, too fast for him to focus on, but all so incredibly important...!
"No! That's quitter's talk! I will not let you give up so easily! Quitters never prosper and you will get nowhere in life if you refuse to work hard for it! This may be a challenge, but you will get through it, Owada-kun! I will help you get through it! I guarantee it!"
In his mind, Kiyotaka is already starting to draft ideas and plans on how to go about this, to help Owada not just understand symbolism, but to understand the importance of school and a good education in general. After all, education is the one thing you can build for yourself that others cannot take away from you! He- he needs to explain this to Owada, he just- he needs...
As engrossed in his impassioned planning as he is, he loses track of where, exactly, he is. School, the library, his room, Mars... what does it matter when he's planning?! But, as such, he jolts somewhat when he sees Owada stand before him, sneer harsh on his face, the biker starting to look pissed off. But Kiyotaka is so engrossed in his planning that he forgets to feel afraid and just frowns at Owada with confusion. Why... why is he glaring?
"What, the absolute fuck, are ya talkin' 'bout, ya fuckin' psycho?! The fuck?!"
Ah! He's confused, of course! He must explain! Emboldened by his sudden passion, forgetting himself entirely, Kiyotaka strides forward and places his hands on Owada's shoulders and looks him deep in the eye, letting his sincerity shine through. He's loves feeling passionate about things! It's exhilarating!
"I promise you, Mondo Owada, that I will not let you give up on yourself! We will get through your problem together! We can figure this out! You do not have to give up on yourself, not with me here! I will help you! I promise!"
Kiyotaka removes his hands a second later as an idea strikes him, which is probably a good thing because— if he were in his right mind and not so focused on his impassioned plans to help Owada— he'd have noticed the vein bulging on the biker's forehead, as well as the angry flush that is rising on his face, his eyes going dark with rage, a telltale sign that he's starting to get seriously pissed off, in a bad way.
But, as focused as he is, he doesn't notice. He just picks up the textbook, holds it relatively close to Owada's face and points to a random sentence, his racing mind picking up on something Owada had said, something that had stuck out to him and needs further investigation, right away!
"Now! Tell me, what does this say?!"
He looks at Owada expectantly, watching with wide, steady eyes as Owada's mouth opens and closes, the other teen at an utter loss as to what is going on. Kiyotaka doesn't remove the book, though, and just continues to hold it steadily, focus unwavering. After a moment, Owada does as he is told and looks at the book, angry bewilderment all over his face. Kiyotaka doesn't notice.
"Uh, what? Shit, I dunno... u-uh... somethin' 'bout a raven... or, shit, what..." Owada trails off, squinting his eyes and moving farther from the book, likely to see better. Aha! Just like he expected!
Excited, Kiyotaka closes the book with a snap, not noticing Owada's indignant 'hey!' and instead points to a nearby sign, one that has big letters. It looks a bit blurry to him, as his far vision is not exactly 20/20, but he can see it well enough to read it. And so should Owada!
"Perfect! Now, what does that sign over there say?!"
Again, he doesn't notice the rage that is steadily building on Owada's face, the teen's face now entirely red as his hands clench tightly into fists. Still, the biker does as is asked, glaring at the sign, but not squinting like he had been earlier.
"Why the fuck does this fuckin' matter?! It says, 'books aren't just made of words, they're also filled with places ta visit and people ta meet,' which is the stupidest fuckin' shit I've ever fuckin' read, the fuck-"
Kiyotaka doesn't give Owada the ability to finish his sentence, instead laughing happily, throwing his hands up with his excitement at figuring out the puzzle. Aha! It's so simple, truly! How wonderful!
"Perfect! Owada-kun, I think you may be farsighted! That might explain why you have such a hard time reading! But it's an easy fix, I assure you-"
"The fuck did you just call me, you fuckin' piece a' shit?!"
Kiyotaka blinks, head tilted as he looks at Owada, still not quite recognizing the look of rage on the teen's face, so excited that he's solved the puzzle. Aha! This all makes perfect sense now!
"Farsighted! It means that you have trouble reading words when they are close to your face, the words appearing blurry, but can see them just fine when they are far away! It is a very common ailment, I assure you! And it can be very easy to fix! You may need to visit the school's nurse and see if you can't get an appointment with an optometrist, but with the school's insurance plan, it should be easy for you to get an appointment, and then you can get glasses-"
"What?! I ain't fuckin' wearin' nerdy fuckin' glasses! The fuck are you-"
"-which should help with your reading immensely! This will not help with the symbolism problem, sadly, but it may make it easier for you to learn to enjoy reading! And the more you read, the easier it will be-"
"Hold on one fuckin' second you goddamn, motherfuckin' psychotic piece of absolute shi-!"
"-language! As I was saying, the more you read, the easier it will be to pick up on the symbolism in the books you read! I imagine that, as hard as reading is, you do not do it often, which makes you lag behind! But do not worry! You can catch up! I belie-"
A growl is all the warning Kiyotaka gets before he gets grabbed by the shirt and slammed, quite painfully, into a pillar. And, as his head hits the hardwood, the manic determination that had filled him suddenly floods out, and cold realization settles in.
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh, dear God.
Oh sweet, dear God, heavens above... no!
!
"Listen here, you goddamn piece of fuckin' shit! You ain't got a single fuckin' clue about me and my life! Ya fuckin' understand me?! I don't know what this goddamn 'farsighted' bullshit is, but I sure as hell ain't it! Not if I gotta get fuckin' glasses! I ain't no goddamn nerd! So, I don't fuckin' care what you fuckin' say, I'm fuckin' done! This shit is fuckin' impossible and I ain't gonna bother puttin' in the effort, not if it means I gotta be fuckin' stuck with a piece a' shit like you! Ya fuckin' hear me, you fuckwad?!"
Owada's words are hissed, low and angry, his eyes practically all black with his rage, his chest heaving. And Kiyotaka...
Kiyotaka is absolutely terrified.
And not just because of the irate biker in front of him.
In fact, that's currently the least of his worries. Ironic, he knows, but… but he… h-he-
He did it again. He actually did it again. After all of these years...
He can't believe he did it again! And in front of Owada to boot! Oh! He's so mortified!
He has spent years carefully controlling himself so that people don't see this side of himself. Years and years and years of careful regulation of his emotions, of keeping his raging passion in check. As a child, he'd used to let it run rampant. He'd passionately rave at his classmates, would lecture them in the halls, would show his determination, his enthusiasm, not caring who saw! He was a passionate person, why would that be something shameful, he'd felt! And his mother had agreed!
But... but the other children... they... they didn't see it that way. They never did.
And after... after his mother died... after he lost his one biggest supporter, the one person who saw him at his most passionate (if that's even the right word, he doesn't even know what to call what he gets, passionate doesn't seem strong enough but it's the best word he's got so it's what he uses) and didn't judge him, didn't hate him for it... after she was- was gone, he...
His father never understood him when he got like this. Never understood him, period, but especially when he was like this. He tried, of course he did! But after... after his mother... his father was too tired to keep trying.
Kiyotaka still remembers the day his father had finally snapped, had yelled at him, "Kiyotaka Ishimaru! No one cares about this goddamn insignificant festival! Your classmates aren't going to magically change their minds about you, not even if you make it the best festival ever! They hate you, and there is nothing you can do about it! Accept it and move the fuck on!"
It was the first time he'd ever heard his father curse, and he thinks that was what had hurt the most, knowing he'd driven the usually collected and composed man to such intense anger with his... his passion. He'd been so ashamed, had felt tears in his eyes, but he hadn't let them fall. He'd just deflated— like the balloon he'd been trying (and failing) to inflate— and had nodded dully. His father had apologized, later, had held him close and whispered how so, so sorry he was, that he'd never do it again (and thus far he hasn't), but the damage had been done. And what was said could never be unsaid...
He'd realized then that his 'passion,' his... his determination...? No one cared about it. The children didn't. They called him names, made fun of him, taunted him for how stupidly focused he got over little, insignificant things. His father didn't, the man too tired to deal with Kiyotaka's silly little quirks. And Kiyotaka...
Kiyotaka was tired of being such a burden.
So, he'd learned to contain it. To keep it inside. To ignore the feeling when it came, even if it choked him, which it often did. When he was alone, when it was a personal project that he could do by himself… then he'd let it out. Let his passion drive him into a mad frenzy of movement and action and determination. It helped him get through the monotony of his actions, helped him keep motivated and energized. It, in all honesty, is what helped him get here, to Hope's Peak in the first place. It was helpful when it was just him who had to experience it.
However, whenever he was in public... whenever there were other people around, his father included... he'd learned to keep it in. To keep it locked up, tight, tight, tight, putting it in a box and refusing to let it out, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much he desperately wanted to let it free. It... no one cared, no one wanted to be burdened with his 'passion.' No one liked it when he got so frantic and determined and... and... he doesn't even have the words for what he felt, but no one liked it. No one. No one.
"You just care about things so deeply, my love," his mother would coo to him whenever he'd cry about a bully mocking him for his enthusiasm. "You care about everything so very much. But that's a good thing! It's good to be passionate, to have drive! People always attack what they don't understand, but please, my little Taka, don't let anyone take that light from you, okay? You will be the best and brightest of us all, one day, I promise you, my darling. Don't let anyone steal that from you. No matter what, okay?"
He'd nodded, at the time, clinging to her words like the child he was, wanting to believe them so bad. His mother knew everything, back then, and it had been easy to let her soothing words ease his heartache and pain. It always had been, back then.
But she... she didn't understand. She couldn't understand. He wanted to be liked. He wanted it so, so bad. He knew it was stupid, that he should accept himself as he is, but, well... he didn't really like himself much, to be perfectly honest, so why shouldn't he change? And maybe... maybe there was something wrong with him that he got like this, something his mother just... hadn't seen, too blinded by her inherent kindness and goodness. I-it never felt like it, never felt like it was wrong, or bad, or- or anything like that. It felt helpful, and fiery, and bright! It made him feel emboldened, made him feel powerful and confident. But if it wasn't... if it wasn't a burden, wasn't a nuisance... then why did people hate him so much for it? Why did... why did his father... why did they...
So, he'd learned to change himself, despite what his mother had said. Sometimes... sometimes, when no one in the world likes you, not even yourself, you had to change. Right? I-it wasn't quitting it was... it was just bettering yourself! He'd be stupid to think he was the pinnacle of perfection! Because he- he wasn't! He strove to be perfect, but he never actually was! In order to be perfect... in order to be the absolute best... he'd have to make some changes. And that was okay. That was fine. That... that was fine.
He was okay with it.
But now. Now, here he is, staring wide eyed into angry eyes, realizing with a sinking heart that he had failed. He was supposed to keep this all inside, keep it to himself and never burden anyone else with it, ever, ever, ever again. And yet... a-and yet...
Why does he bother trying? What is the point of any of this?
Why does he keep burdening people with his stupidity?
"Oh, an' now yer fuckin' cryin', like a goddamn fuckin' child again! Goddamn it, how fuckin' pathetic are you?! Tryin' ta make me feel bad?! Yer the one who doesn't know when ta fuckin' quit, who- who is tryin' ta say ya actu'ly fuckin' believe in me, l-lyin' ta me... I know ya hate me, I'm a piece a' shit, why the fuck would you care if I flunked out?! Ya'd prolly be happy if I did! S-so stop... stop cryin', ya fuckin'... s-shit..."
Kiyotaka closes his eyes, trying to stop the tears he hadn't even felt begin to fall. Another failure, tonight. Pathetic. Worthless. Absolute nothing. Why bother trying? Why keep doing this when all he does is hurt other people? Pathetic... so... so pathetic... even Owada sees it... everyone sees it... why...
"Aw... shit, Ishimaru, would ya stop... s-shit, I didn't mean-"
"I'm sorry," Kiyotaka gasps, his voice rough and ragged, eyes opening to look into Owada's once more. They're no longer black with rage but soft lavender again, still looking pissed off and confused, but no longer apoplectic. He wishes he could feel relieved about that. He can't. His chest aches again and he suddenly can't keep the words inside, feeling them come out and while he tries to stop it, he can't. He can't, he can't, he can't, he can't.
Yet another failure.
"I- I overstepped my boundaries. I- I let myself- myself get carried away and I... I... I was so stupid! Y-you are right to hate me! I- I just got so enthusiastic! Y-you have such potential, and I couldn't... couldn't stand to see you- y-you... you throw it away! L-like I- I almost— a-ah… b-but I... I shouldn't... I shouldn't have burdened you with my passion, it was deplorable of me! I'm so sorry! P-please, do whatever... do whatever you want to me, I will not stop you! I deserve whatever you do to me! I deserve-!"
"Ah, god fuckin' damn it, not this shit again!"
Kiyotaka flinches back drastically, the exasperated words sounding angry and forceful to his ear, another reprimand, for another failure he's done. O-oh dear... oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! He... he messed up again, didn't he? Oh no... ohhh no...
He cringes back against the wall, turning his face away from the biker, wishing the ground would swallow him up so that he never has to face Owada's anger and hatred and disgust ever again. H-he... he deserves to be punished, to be beaten, black and blue and bloody, h-he... b-but he can't ask Owada again, the teen hates it when he asks, so he can't... he- h-he can't…
"I- I'm sorry. I... I'm sorry," he mutters, looking down, heart clenching in pain. God, he hates being like this. So weak. So pathetic. It's... it's unbecoming... how will he ever be Prime Minister if he keeps doing this... how...? Unbidden, his lips keep moving, and before he can stop himself, he hears himself say, in a voice so small he barely recognizes it as his own, "please don't hate me..."
Well. If he had thought to ask himself earlier 'can you get anymore pathetic,' he's happy to report back that, yes. Yes, he can get more pathetic. At least he's good at something!
He flinches at the choked sound Owada makes and closes his eyes again. He... he can't see the disgust and hatred he knows he'll find there. He just... he can't...
"Goddamn it. I... okay. Ya know what? Okay. Fine. You tell anyone I ever fuckin' said this, I'm gonna fuckin' knock yer lights out, ya understand?! But... shit. I- I... I don't know what yer fuckin' deal is, okay? It's like ya've got two fuckin' people in ya. One of 'em is the biggest fuckin' asshole I've ever met, like, fuck, I hate ya when yer like that."
Kiyotaka flinches at the words, eyes opening against his will, and he watches as Owada sighs, shaking his head, grimacing lightly.
"Shit. Sorry, but, like... it's true. Ya drive me fuckin' batty and I just get so angry at ya. Don't even fuckin' know why, shit... but then... then, sometimes yer... yer actu'ly half decent. Ya... fuck, I dunno, I'm shit with words. But you just... shine, I guess. Shit, no, that's fuckin' gay... ugh! I mean, you... yer different. Weaker, I guess, but also not. I just... I hate seein' ya like this, but I also don't know what the fuck is goin' on with ya, an' I feel like I'm in over my head, so I try an' stay away from ya. But I can't stop, yer every fuckin' where and I can't get away from you. I can't... I just... I dunno why. You just..."
Owada trails off, a look of concentration on his face, and after a moment of silence, he sighs. And then... then he...
He leans forward. And he... he...
He presses his forehead against Kiyotaka's, minding his hair, the gesture soft and intimate and gentle.
And Kiyotaka...
He's fairly sure his mind has imploded…
"I don't get you, Ishimaru. You just... you don't make sense. I try and figure you out, but I can't... can't understand a single fucking thing about you. You drive me absolutely insane, and I wanna do things I've never wanted ta do before. You make me... shit. I dunno. Wanna do better. Be better. But I can't, I fucking... I can't. I'm a fucking goddamn hot mess, and I think you might be too, so where the fuck does that leave us, huh? Blind leading the goddamn blind? Shit, man. I just..."
Owada sighs again, the puff of air hitting his lips, the scent of cinnamon overwhelming. Kiyotaka forgets how to breathe. It's not important. Not when Owada is so close to him, is pressing closer, his body pressing so tight to Kiyotaka's that he can feel every line, every crease, every single-
Who needs to breathe anyway? Useless bodily function, really…
"Why do I wanna be so close to you... why can't I stop fuckin' thinkin' 'bout you... you're in my head, and I can't get you out. I wanna rip you outta here, but I just… I can't. Did you put a spell on me? Are you secretly a wizard? 'Cuz shit, man, that's the only thing I can think of... I ain't makin' any fuckin' sense, shit, ya prolly think I'm nuts... it's your fault! I didn't ask fer this, I didn't-!"
There are hands on his hips, now, holding him tight, tight, so tight he thinks it will bruise, but he doesn't care. He's never been less concerned about getting a bruise in his life.
"B-but... but... shit. Ta answer ya, Ishimaru... no. I… I don't... I don't hate ya. I wanna. I wanna hate you so fuckin' bad. I try and tell myself I do, every fuckin' day. But, really... I don't know. I don't like you. Not at all, not really. But I know hatred. And it ain't that, either. So... yeah. Ya can stop lookin' at me like that now, okay?"
Looking at him? Like what? He has no idea what he looks like at all, certainly not what look he's currently looking at Owada with. But, not wanting to offend the teen, he closes his eyes, which honestly makes it all worse. With his eyes closed, his other senses heighten, and all he can sense is Owada's overwhelming presence. Practically every part of him is being pressed into by the biker and he... h-he can't handle this... g-god...
And then. Then, like it had never happened at all, Owada is gone. And Kiyotaka...
He's never felt so acutely bereaved.
He hears Owada sigh again, and slowly, like coming out of a dream, Kiyotaka opens his eyes, blinking rapidly at the light assaulting him. It's disorienting, but when he looks over at the biker, his eyes drawn like magnets… things start to feel right again. As long as he's looking at him... as long as he can see O-Owada... well.
This is dangerous, isn't it? Oh, yes. Yes, it is. He should run away before he gets burned. Again. A smart man would run and not look back.
He's always been such an idiot...
"Okay. Shit, shit. I'm gonna... I gotta go punch some shit right now, 'fore my balls fall off. So, I'm gonna... leave. But..." Owada pauses here, looking so uncomfortable Kiyotaka can feel it. But then he sighs, a wry smile on his lips, like he's just learned that he's insane, but realizes he is actually okay with it. "Shit. I'm prolly gonna regret the shit outta this, but what the fuck. Ain't like my life can get any fuckin' weirder. So, uh. If that offer is still on the table... ta, uh... help me. Then fine. I- I'll try. I'll go see that opt... whatever the fuck ya called it. Fer my fuckin' eyes. See if I can't fix the blurry shit, which I always just thought was normal, but I guess not? Shit, whatever. An' I can do whatever the fuck else ya were talkin' 'bout, if ya... want... wait. Oh, wait, shit, I didn't ask if ya... I- I mean, if ya don't wanna, anymore, I ain't gonna force ya-!"
Owada's eyes have widened as he says the words, looking at Kiyotaka with something akin to horror in them, and Kiyotaka finally snaps out of his stupor at the sight.
Eyes impossibly wide, he nods frantically, his brain still so sluggish he can barely think about anything, let alone his next words, but he knows he has to say something, something to take that panic out of Owada's breathtaking eyes.
"Yes! I! Yes! I wouldn't mind at all! I- I'll get started on a- a tutoring schedule, a-and... u-uh... I- I could go with you to the- the nurse...? I-if you'd want me to, I mean! Ahaha!"
He'd feel more mortified by his surely tomato red face if Owada's face wasn't just as red, the other teen looking at the wall, his shoulders so tense it's making Kiyotaka's shoulders hurt just by looking. Usually, this is when Owada would hurl an insult, would do something to maintain his cool and collected image. Kiyotaka is expecting it so much, in fact, that he almost doesn't register the fact that Owada starts to smile, small and crooked but there, nodding his head a little while rubbing his neck awkwardly.
"U-uh, yeah. I mean, uh... if ya wanna... I just! Don't uh. Know what the fuck that thing ya said was, an', I uh... I dunno. Y'ain't gotta, but I mean-"
"I don't mind!" he rushes to reassure the other teen, only a little frantic. Owada coughs, covering his mouth with his hand, but Kiyotaka sees a glimpse of a large smile and it shorts his brain out again.
"U-uh, cool! I, uh, I mean... whatever, ya fuckin' nerd. N-now, I really gotta fuckin' bounce. Only so much a' this shit I can fuckin' take, goddamn. Feel like I'm losin' my goddamn mind, but whatever. I'll let ya know when I've got time ta see the fuckin' nurse. But uh... yeah."
Owada pauses, once more, before looking up, a dark, frantic look in his eyes as he points a finger at Kiyotaka menacingly.
"If you fuckin' tell a single person about what happened here today, I'm gonna make you regret you were ever born, got it?! We never talk about it, never mention it, nothin', is that fuckin' understood?! This never happened, right?!"
Kiyotaka blinks at the abrupt change, but instead of afraid, he feels, almost... fond.
Well. It's official.
He's insane.
(He should care about that, right?)
(…)
(He doesn't.)
(Aha…)
"My lips are sealed!" Kiyotaka promises, miming locking his lips and putting the key in his pocket, something he and his mother used to do when he'd been young. Owada snorts at the action, smirking, but he says nothing else. He just nods tightly, once, points his finger at him one last time, before striding away, leather duster billowing behind him as he walks.
Kiyotaka stares after him, not moving for long, long minutes.
And then, after an undetermined amount of time, he returns to the table and pulls out a sheet of paper and a pen and begins writing furiously.
After all.
He has a new student to tutor!
Ha. So... Taka. I'm just gonna say that this whole thing wasn't planned originally. I didn't intend on having Taka tutor Mondo, honestly. I just realized that this story takes place at a school, and figured they should, ya know... go to class at some point? And then I had the idea for tutoring, and just went with it. And the whole "passion" thing... I'm not entirely sure why I put that at first, but after having written it, I realized it could work. Taka is a very passionate and determined character in canon, with a lot of drive and enthusiasm. He stops characters and lectures about anything, something he mentions he kind of dislikes about himself in the school mode. I realized that I kind of did away with that part of his personality in this story, though, and wanted to see if I could have a reason in this story for that to have happened. Thus, I made it a conscious decision on Taka's part to not do that kind of thing, as a way to protect himself. Make sense?
I just hope it doesn't seem like it came entirely out of nowhere! And that it makes sense! Also, in case anyone was worried, I'm not modeling Taka off any neurodivergence, either, so if it seems like I am, it's unintentional. If you want to head canon him as anything, though, feel free! I'm just trying to add elements of his canon character that I kind of got rid of, for this AU, and am trying to bring them back in a logical way. I like keeping characters, ya know... in character, so this felt like it made sense.
(Also, if anyone is wondering why no one got mad at them for being loud in a library... don't think about it. They were yelling... softly? Most of the time they were hissing at each other, being softer, but yeah. Just... don't think about it.)
(Also also, I totally made Mondo farsighted because I like the mental image of him in glasses, ha. And I wanted to have a logical reason for why he'd not be good at school, without making him unintelligent, like a lot of IshiMondo stories seem to do, which I dislike.)