Chapter 15 : taking time running in place
Whatever it was that Tsunayoshi had expected out of working for old man Yamamoto - or no: Tsuyoshi. The man himself hadn't tolerated 'Yamamoto-san' for very long before he'd said, stiffly, like holding a knife to Tsunayoshi's throat: "If you're really concerned about my Takeshi's happiness, at least call him by his own name."
As badly as Tsunayoshi had stumbled over it the first few times, old man Yamamoto had seemed to be onto something about Takeshi's happiness. And from that first time that they'd really talked, Tsunayoshi had thought that he'd wanted to see Takeshi like that a lot. He's capable of this much, he thinks.
Still, Tsunayoshi gets put to work at TakeSushi. Only old man Yamamoto is allowed to have anything at all to do with food preparation, though. Takeshi occasionally fetches ingredients or tools for his dad, but mostly Takeshi helps by minding the customers or washing the dishes as necessary. With the addition of Tsunayoshi, however, Takeshi becomes solely responsible for the customers and receiving orders and handling the phone.
Meanwhile, Tsunayoshi gets to spend his time sweeping the floor and washing the dishes. It's not really dignified work, Tsunayoshi thinks, which is fine for someone who thought to do something like this for the rest of his life anyway. Actually, it turns out to be hard work, to the point that if Tsunayoshi hadn't already come to the conclusion himself, without old man Yamamoto's interference, he would have decided to try for a better job anyway. That aside, this also seems to make Takeshi happy, so for now Tsunayoshi bends to the work and does it diligently.
Besides, Tsunayoshi likes being where Takeshi is. More than just not getting headaches or nausea no matter what kind of gross thing he ends up having to clean up after, Takeshi's mood is infectious. Haru seems to think so as well as they easily move their after club study sessions to the back of TakeSushi, and then Shioya himself interferes once he finds out: he has Tsunayoshi quit lessons with Hayashi, and then somehow prevents Hideki from becoming a tyrant on Haru's behalf.
Tsunayoshi isn't entirely clear on Shioya's reaction when Tsunayoshi forcibly drags Shoichi into the mix - not to the study sessions themselves, but rather insisting that he come by for at least a light meal - but he's pretty sure that he's gotten the wrong idea about it somehow.
"What kind of strays are you trying to collect, mini-Sawada?" he asks, but Tsunayoshi doesn't bother to disagree: he's only doing it to make Nana happy in the first place. Shoichi isn't the kind that could easily stomach the things that Tsunayoshi gets involved in; it would just be too cruel to involve him if he hasn't asked for it while knowing exactly what it is he would be agreeing to.
Gradually, though, Tsunayoshi dies less and less in Tsuyoshi's eyes, so that's something at least.
-0-
When Takeshi had said that he spoke with his team about voting for Kyoko, Tsunayoshi had been thankful, but perhaps he'd underestimated the effects of that - not only that the boys in his team would speak with the other athletics teams, who had been chafing under Nerina's cuts, but also the effect of the most popular boy in school throwing in his support behind the most popular girl.
"I said you were too laid back," Nakamoto says reproachfully, having watched Tsunayoshi's reaction in real time. Nakamoto's efforts aren't to be underestimated, either - the campaign that he has almost single handedly arranged is nothing to easily disregard. Although someone must have realized that Kyoko meant to run against Tomaso Nerina for her position, it's only now that anyone has sat up and paid attention to that, with Kyoko's shining face plastered all over the school to the point that Nerina herself seems to have felt pressured into putting more work in herself.
"Although I feel weird selling pictures of Kyoko for votes," Tsunayoshi says.
Nakamoto gives him a look like he's being overly judgemental or wary. "It's just an incentive," he says flatly.
"And the posters?"
To Tsunayoshi's surprise, Nakamoto flusters. "I worked hard with Hana-san on those!" he snaps, color flushing up his neck and into his cheeks and ears.
There haven't been a lot of reasons for Nakamoto to become embarrassed as long as Tsunayoshi has known him, but he hadn't thought of him as someone who easily becomes such. He usually seems like a rather level headed boy, the fearsome face he's shown from time to time aside. Still - "I don't know that you're Hana-chan's type," Tsunayoshi points out. He's not sure what would be, outside of the fact that it probably looks something like Kyoko. Though not Kyoko herself, or at least, that's not the impression he got.
"It's not like that, either!"
They don't really have the luxury of arguing about it, though, since the sports festival that Nerina has organized for the sake of funding the field trip out into the woods is getting underway. Both of them have already paid for their entries, as little as Tsunayoshi really wants to actually participate - but, well, participation isn't exactly something anyone is being allowed to chose.
Normally, a sporting event would be something like a competition between classes, even as everyone tried their best to show their own skills and abilities off. A lot of people, growing interested in their classmates in a romantic sense, would think of an event like this as a good opportunity to show off their best side, especially since it's an irregular 'extra' event this year.
Tsunayoshi thinks of it as something to keep his head down during. He'd thought that way even before That happened, when he was following Kyoko around the school; there had been no way for him to perform well during something like a Sports Fest, as clumsy as he was, and so trying to embarrass himself as little as possible was the name of the game.
He cares less about embarrassing himself these days, but drawing attention to himself would still be about eleven different kinds of awful, even if it didn't inexplicably make him sick these days. At least with an impromptu event like this, it's less structured than normal. Unexpectedly, people seem to be feeling the pressure of the upcoming election, and almost immediately, Tsunayoshi is able to see divisions between classmates over who they're choosing to vote for. There are a lot of people who are pretty happy with the status quo - but there are also plenty who aren't. Apparently a free-for-all like this is a good time to try to work those tensions out.
If it were anything other than a middle school, Tsunayoshi's gut instinct is that this kind of friction could easily lead to breaking the whole school.
"But it's a middle school and we're third years," he reasons to himself as he works to avoid falling in with either crowds, "so it doesn't actually matter." Even if the school breaks, Tsunayoshi will be leaving with Takeshi and Kyoya, so it's not his problem, after all.
"Sawada!"
Tsunayoshi jumps. His guard had lowered in the face of the laughing kids having a day off from classes and most of all: completely overlooking him. It's only in classrooms that he has his episodes of nausea and headaches, although that hadn't always been true when he'd been a younger and going through the same thing. Mostly, the others keep their distance these days even though before they used to taunt him.
First because he'd made himself very small and very cramped, more terrified of his own hands than he'd ever been of them. Then because of his place with the Disciplinary Committee.
Now, Tsunayoshi turns, only vaguely aware of how his shoulders have automatically hunched and his hands grip the front of his gym shirt. Mochida hasn't come too close - enough to make himself heard, not so much that any Committee members, were they to see this, would feel moved to step in and defend their territory the way Hoshino had against Saitoh despite not even liking Tsunayoshi.
"Senpai," Tsunayoshi says, and a look of frustrated superiority crosses the boy's face the way it usually does.
Tsunayoshi isn't sure why Mochida Kensuke is approaching him now of all times, unless he's heard about Tsunayoshi's part in the field trip. It isn't as though Tsunayoshi has been following Kyoko, and other than that, Mochida has never once been completely happy with any interaction they've had, despite Tsunayoshi doing as he says every time.
Although, from what he's come to understand, the demand to be called 'senpai' despite being a peer was meant to be humiliating. The problem is that outside of very specific circumstances, Tsunayoshi isn't really sure what 'humiliating' is. It's something that people with pride experience, he thinks.
Normally, Mochida does his own dirty work, but in this case, he glances toward one of the boys with him and gives a pointed nod toward Tsunayoshi. That's a bit interesting, he thinks, even as the boy seizes him by the front of his shirt and drags him a few steps closer to Mochida.
If he makes his underlings do the things he himself won't, they'll lose their trust in him.
"Did you really think I wouldn't notice you hovering around Kyoko again?" Mochida asks, sharp and dark.
He has it all backwards, but - "Weren't you the one that said I could, if I called you senpai?" Tsunayoshi wonders, and the other boy bares his teeth and no less resembles a snarling, snapping dog than usual… no small reason for his reaction to Mochida's voice. As much as Tsunayoshi hates to be yelled at, back then even getting beat up probably wouldn't have had a lasting impact.
And yet, despite that, Tsunayoshi's gut doesn't agree with his reflexive response at all. He's sat down with Yekaterina Miura and Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, and his peer who has trained for years to avoid lasting injury doesn't measure very highly against them. The dichotomy has his mouth running away with him.
"You should watch what you say, dame-Tsuna," Mochida warns. "My generosity isn't endless."
Tsunayoshi stares. Their first year at Nami middle had mostly consisted of Mochida working himself into Ryohei's good graces, he thinks - although it wasn't something he'd really paid attention to at the time. Tsunayoshi hadn't really noticed anything then, going about his day in something of a gray fog, interrupted from time to time when he was shoved around by his peers who kept seeming to expect more out of him but always knew his track record of failing every test and tripping over empty air most of all. The antics of people like Mochida Kensuke, the boy who made himself captain of the Kendo club before the end of his first year, were the stirring of giants far above Tsunayoshi's head.
(The world is drab and dreary and cold, like pressing his palms to windows and breathing on the glass. Like ice but not cold or dry enough to stop it from turning to dirty slush. A dull ache like the socks and mittens hadn't been put on soon enough, and his fingers and toes are leeching the warmth from his blood and sending it back around to freeze his heart out of his chest. Teeth in ice cream. A sharp throb in his skull like he's eaten it too quickly, like it's been shoved down his unwilling throat so he chokes.
Even on the hottest, muggiest days, his joints had ached in perpetual winter, and then there'd been Kyoko. A vague notion that if only he could curl his frigid fingers around her, he could take some of that warmth for himself.
Ahh. It's bad.)
Peering around his shirt clenched tight in someone else's fist, the neck of it sawing across his jaw, across his mouth, Tsunayoshi watches Mochida. It isn't so much that his head is throbbing as it is that all the bones in his body do, in time with his calmly beating heart. He feels like a shaken bottle of pop. A bit like various parts of him will explode. Not with bone and blood and gore, but he's just as unlikely to survive it. "Say," he says, his lips sawing across the collar of his shirt, "what does Kyoko-chan get out of your association anyway?"
Mochida's already furious scowl darkens. "What kind of bullshit are you talking about, you troublesome runt?" he demands, and actually steps forward, grabbing at the shoulder of the minion that has Tsunayoshi by the shirt as if it's supposed to hold him back.
Tsunayoshi peers up at him, ignoring the other boy entirely. Their resolve is kind of pathetic, he thinks, and suddenly it's itching at him: the idea of someone like this clinging onto Kyoko. "Someone like Mochida-senpai," he says, "naturally benefits from being associated with the idol of Nami Middle. But - come to think of it, how exactly does Kyoko-chan benefit from someone like you? How much longer do you think she's going to tolerate someone who won't even work for her sake?"
It's an awful look on Mochida's face: both equally the desire to rampage and the inability because just as Tsunayoshi knew from the beginning, his words can't be argued against. Mochida Kensuke is plenty popular, between his face and his ability and his position, but - well. His personality is bad. Tsunayoshi isn't the only one to think so, and neither is he the first to say it. "Listen, you-" he snarls, and-
A hand clamps across Tsunayoshi's chest, just under the tent of his shirt in the minion's hand. The abrupt lessening of the pressure inside Tsunayoshi leaves him swooning, so that the laugh that Takeshi gives - loud, sharp, like the distant rattle of gunfire - beats through his heart and head in counterpoint to the throb of his heart. "Hey, what's going on over here?" he asks.
Of everyone there, the kendo club member that abruptly releases Tsunayoshi's shirt and steps back seems to have the best grasp on the situation, except that even his isn't very good in the way that he doesn't even run away while Takeshi is still assessing it.
Mochida plainly lacks the willingness or intelligence, leading with one foot as he snaps: "Nothing that's any of your business, Yamamoto." He grits his teeth as if instantly regretting his lack of composure, visibly working to wrestle back his temper. "Since when do you ride to the rescue of losers like that runt anyway?" he adds resentfully.
"Now, now," Takeshi says easily, not even looking away from Mochida and his underlings for an instant as he sets Tsunayoshi firmly on his feet and tugs his shirt back into place; his eyes are pale amber and his smile has too many white points of teeth in it. "If it's a rescue, it's a rescue, no matter who it is."
Is Tsunayoshi supposed to be happy about this, he wonders? It's just that at Takeshi's back is a handful of the baseball club members, the ones in their third year at least, and they look unhappy to be here - not in that Mochida has caused them to be here, like any reasonable person would hope they would, but rather that Tsunayoshi has caused them to be here. Unlike the Disciplinary Committee, they're not keen to guard their captain's territory, but they aren't so cowardly that they'd refuse to have that captain's back. Ah, Tsunayoshi wishes that Takeshi had allowed him to handle his own mess in this case since his minion's resentment toward Tsunayoshi will surely increase after this.
Well, and because of that look on Takeshi's face, like something well-fed and feral and a little pissed off. How is it again that Kyoya has become the Demon of Nami Middle when their own boy Idol can make an expression like that?
Of all the people that Takeshi could show it to, Mochida is one of the less deserving of it, and besides: it'll probably trouble Kyoko if something were to happen to him. Fixing a smile onto his face, Tsunayoshi says, "Takeshi, thanks. But we were only talking, really."
Displaying the fine instincts of someone who doesn't actually have any, Mochida says, "see? He says so himself! That's right - we were only talking about how Dame-Tsuna should stop stalking Kyoko."
Ah - that guy is really going to make Tsunayoshi feel bad for Kyoko. Maybe Tsunayoshi has misunderstood somehow? He'd been so sure that Mochida was part of her household, but if Mochida doesn't even know any of her plans and isn't helping her work toward her goals…? Maybe he'd been right to wonder just what it was she got out of the whole situation.
Takeshi just blinks down at Tsunayoshi. "Wow, really, Tsuna? You really are busy to find time for that between working at TakeSushi and the study group and that Yumei kid besides! That's some impressive time management skills - you'll teach me some time, right?"
Tsunayoshi startles, and then flails, waving him off. "No way!" he protests, kneejerk. "As if I really had those kinds of skills! Ask Haru about it if you want to become a one-man time machine!" As packed as Takeshi and Tsunayoshi's schedules are, Haru's is truly ridiculous. Takeshi just laughs at the suggestion, but - ah, thank goodness, but that awful edge of his expression has eased up a bit.
"Wait, you two know each other?" Mochida seems faintly stunned by the idea, like his world view has become slightly upended. He crosses his arms and sneers, turning his attention completely toward Takeshi and dismissing the rest of them way too carelessly. "That's pretty cunning of you, Yamamoto, not to acknowledge that in public."
The edges of Takeshi's laugh and smile are still way too sharp, but it's nothing immediately dangerous, at least. "Ah, sorry, I don't really understand what you're trying to say here," he says, cheerfully enough, "after all: Tsuna sits next to me in class in the seat I saved for him, and this right now isn't exactly private, is it?"
It's really not - not the least of which because thanks to the sudden gathering of students, other kids at the fest are starting to pay attention. Takeshi, like an oblivious idiot, gives them a friendly wave like this is one of this games - but it works surprisingly well, since Tsunayoshi hears at least some of them acknowledge him as That Yamamoto Takeshi of the Baseball Club. A least some of them have recognized Tsunayoshi, too, and he sinks down a bit, ducking his head slightly - still: Takeshi's hand on his shoulder keeps the pressure down.
"More the idiot, you," Mochida mutters, controlling his face and tone better; only the heightened sense of pressure enables Tsunayoshi to make out that. "You wasting your time with him. That guy's nothing but trouble. He gets caught and he's one of Hibari's, after all."
There's a strange metallic tang in Tsunayoshi's mouth and nose. Only it's not strange at all, except that he shouldn't be smelling it now of all times, but: 'get caught?' Mochida has asked that once before. It's not uncommon. A lot of kids of Tsunayoshi's caliber get caught from time to time, although usually afterwards they don't come back to school. They must not have something strange and awful happen inside them, or take guns in hand, he thinks. They aren't like him. They don't have something inside them that had almost been snuffed out until someone accidentally breathed on it and so it began to smolder again.
(Your instincts are quite terrifying, you know?)
"I don't mind any of that," Takeshi says but like: I'd like to see them try that again. "I knew all of that old history before now - that's why, really."
"So you're taking pity on some loser, then," he says, unimpressed. Displaying the fine instincts of someone who can't even tell that Tsunayoshi is no one he should want to fight, let alone Takeshi, he says: "But associating with that will only trash your image, Yamamoto. He's dead weight. The stench will rub off on you."
The hair on the back on Tsunayoshi's neck stands on end, and without thinking about it, he grabs onto the side of Takeshi's shirt. There's no real visible change to Takeshi's expression - the wide open eyes or the smile on his face. If anything, his posture has loosened - but his feet are set. There's some strange gleam in his eyes past the golden color the sunlight has struck in them, although Tsunayoshi can't quite see it clearly yet.
"Now, now," Takeshi says calmly, staring down Mochida, "That's a really funny thing to say! Hey - you're the kendo club's captain, right?" He actually pauses, cocking his head as if he's not entirely sure of it, but doesn't wait for Mochida to do more than register that and bristle. "Let's make a duel out of it!"
"A duel," Tsunayoshi blurts, shocked, but one of Takeshi's own minion's protest is much louder than that when he says, "Yamamoto!" as if that will change or clarify anything.
Takeshi waves him off without even looking, a happy little curl to his mouth like something with long, sharp teeth licking its chops. "It's fine! We'll make it official and everything. What do you say - Mochida, wasn't it? If you win, I'll accept your claims - but if I win, then it's yubitsume for you!"
It's like someone's fired a gun almost: a sudden hush goes through not just the two clubs face each other, but also the surrounding crowd. It's impossible to miss how many of them grow pale in response to that word. It's nothing to kid around with, Tsunayoshi thinks, consider just who around town bares the reminder of it.
Yanking on the end of Takeshi's shirt, Tsunayoshi protests. "Yu-yubitsume! Takeshi, you can't hold a middle schooler to something like that! We're not yakuza!"
"Haha! No? Oh, alright then," Takeshi says, as if he's just suggested such a mild penalty as streaking or something and got shot down. Even his club members are looking a little alarmed and wary. "Then I guess something more like you acknowledging Tsuna as your oyabun will work just fine!"
"I just said we're not yakuza!"
And in any case, no one in their right mind would consider Tsunayoshi an oyabun! Even if he is the head of household, it's not because he's anyone's father figure! And they're not criminals anyway!
Well, actually -
"Fine," Mochida grits through his teeth; he'd never once responded to the threat of yubitsume, if anything looking offended. "I'll accept your terms. There's no way I'm getting adopted into anyone's family."
"As if I'd adopt you anyway!" Tsunayoshi snaps back, his frustration peaking. A guy like Mochida doesn't have the rights to his own life, or at least Tsunayoshi hadn't thought so given that he was supposed to belong to Kyoko's household. Gambling himself away like this without her permission is the ultimate disrespect. Even if she's not a tyrant, or at least Tsunayoshi doesn't think she is, this is just unbearable.
Mochida doesn't even glance his way, spinning neatly on his heel and marching toward the organizational area of the fest. Takeshi moves to follow, and Tsunayoshi swiftly falls in beside him, seething a little bit.
"Takeshi," he says, "what are you even doing? There's no reason to get into a duel with Mochida over something like this!"
Takeshi glances down at him, and though his steps are smooth and dangerous, his brow buckles and the laugh he gives is sheepish. "Ah, sorry," he says, "although I made it sound like I was doing it for your sake, I guess my honor took an insult I'll need to satisfy it for."
That honestly doesn't bother Tsunayoshi at all, but "Why? Does it bother you that much?" His face feels pinched. "You said you knew already that my reputation is bad - I'm Dame-Tsuna, after all."
"Haha - that nickname has always been the worst," Takeshi says, looking forward to where Mochida walks ahead of them. His eyes are sharp. His pacing long and patient. Like something measuring weakness and making easy plans to nip forward and rip flesh open with a swift snap of jaws. "Although I promised to let you deal with it - don't you think that some people take their attitude too far?"
That's something that Tsunayoshi hadn't thought about, despite being aware of how much Takeshi depended on his good reputation. Mochida isn't altogether wrong about that - associating with scum like Tsunayoshi would definitely mar Takeshi's reputation in certain circles. Not once had Takeshi brought it up, but - ah. It's a problem, isn't it? A street sweeper or NEET won't be worthy of his household's attentions, and neither can he relax and let Dame-Tsuna be his reputation, either.
After all, if they want to be by his side, he should do everything necessary to make it possible, shouldn't he? Right. If Tsunayoshi doesn't want to be left alone, then he should become someone successful, with a good reputation.
It's too bad that judging by the look on Takeshi's face, and the way that he's moving, that Tsunayoshi will have a great deal to make up to her over this incident. Kyoko seems like the idea type to help him figure out how to become known publicly as someone worthy of Takeshi's time. He'll owe her some favors for this that would make asking for anything more a bit awkward.
"I guess," he says to Takeshi, because Mochida's attitude isn't unfamiliar to him so it's hard to know if it qualified as 'too much,' "but isn't challenging the kendo captain to a duel a bit much itself?"
"Maybe?" Takeshi looks a bit surprised by the idea, wondering at it. "I just thought that I would have to speak a language he'd understand to get my point across, that's all."
"If you say so." It would be nice if everything were that easy, but this is kind of like bullying, isn't it? And Tsunayoshi himself can say that it doesn't do much for understanding. "But Mochida isn't something you can treat like a baseball, you know."
"Oh! Good point," Takeshi says, and it's honestly difficult to tell if he means it or if it's just another one of his jokes.
Tsunayoshi hangs back while Mochida and Takeshi pitch the idea to Tomaso Nerina, only partially as a sign of his disapproval with the whole ridiculous situation. It's not something that could possibly end well - there's a reason why Mochida made captain in his first year, and Takeshi might be Nami's star player, but will he really understand the rules of Kendo? It won't make Tsunayoshi happy for him to get beaten in this case, even if he has no intention of having Mochida recognize him as any kind of boss; more importantly, he won't know how to address Takeshi's loss.
And - looking at the Kendo club members, who are clearly conspiring without words - Takeshi will be at a handicap. He might not be anyone that Tsunayoshi wants to fight, but don't duels rely on things like points and flags? There's no way for Takeshi to avoid killing Mochida and win at the same time.
Anyway, this fest is to help pay for the field trip, there's no way Nerina will approve it.
-0-
Tomaso Nerina not only approves it, she reserves the gym building and sells tickets. Tomaso Nerina is the worst.
-0-
Working at TakeSushi doesn't actually give Tsunayoshi any more pocket money than usual, as Tsunayoshi hasn't turned 15 yet and so by law can't actually receive wages for the work he does. It doesn't really matter to him, since the money isn't why he's doing the work in the first place. Still, he has enough allowance that he ends up spending it on a ticket to the duel, since there's no way he's tolerating Takeshi doing any of this without him there to see it. Even if it's not for his sake, he should at least bare witness, since he caused the problem in the first place.
Of course, Takeshi and Mochida being who they are, the gym has become packed. Takeshi is one of the Idols of the school and Mochida is popular in his own way, not just for being the kendo club's excellent captain. Or Tsunayoshi surmises that he's 'excellent' - surely the club wouldn't have just rolled over for him when there are competitions to worry about? He hasn't exactly been paying attention, but he's pretty sure they're still winning most of them.
Of course, that might equally just be the fact that Mochida's minions have been sabotaging the competitors.
"It's rough that Yamamoto is such a giant," one of them says as they dig out the armor. "He won't fit the usual armor we use for know-nothings."
"Yeah, but it's fine, isn't it? We have this gear. It's only slightly off balance, but there's no way some baseball geek will keep his posture balanced in this."
"Forget his posture," the minion who had grabbed Tsunayoshi by the shirt says as they exit the equipment room, carrying the clothing and gear that they clearly meant for Takeshi to use during the match, "there's no way he'll even keep his composure. Yamamoto hams it up way too much. No matter who we use as a referee, there's no way his flag will get raised."
Tsunayoshi, lurking outside the equipment room as his gut had goaded him to since catching that speaking look, is somewhat grateful that he's mostly beneath notice. There's really not a lot of ways for him to hide, since it's not as if Mochida's underclassmen are the only club members who like to cheat. Certain clubs have a long and celebrated history of clever sabotage, and take pride in getting away with ridiculous things so long as they aren't caught.
Whatever it is about Tsunayoshi that means that others can't leave him alone and frequently bully him about it - it also eventually, slowly, taught him the skill of being so beneath notice that standing in the middle of an empty hallway, he often manages to be overlooked. It's a bit like considering himself to be a pane of glass, or something unremarkable like a trashcan or a water fountain. He'd wondered on an off in his first year if something like what he does could really be considered stalking if he wasn't being necessarily sneaky about it, but - ah, probably.
Ahh - what should he do, though? He could easily attack these guys from behind, but can he find replacement gear in time? And in order to keep them down long enough to pursue doing so, and getting Takeshi suited up for his match - Tsunayoshi isn't strong enough to do it safely. He can't just run around hitting people hard enough on the head that they don't get up and then try to tell Takeshi that he can't, after all. What should he do? What can he do?
He doesn't want to become Mochida's oyabun or anything like that, but neither does he want Takeshi to lose for such pathetic, underhanded reasons.
Unfortunately, Tsunayoshi is paralyzed by indecision in the split second during which he could have interfered: the three boys are stepping into the room where Takeshi is stripping out of his sports fest clothing. It's not like it's the first time that Tsunayoshi has been around people who are changing from their school clothes into their PE gear, and Takeshi takes little special notice of them.
"Here you are, Yamamoto-kun," the one that called him a baseball geek says, holding out the kendogi and hakama, "We found some gear for you."
"Thanks," he says, reaching for them. Rather than expecting them to wait on him hand and foot, Takeshi tosses the clothing to hang on his shoulder and reaches for the armor next. Tsunayoshi bites his lip and frowns, fidgeting unhappily - maybe he should go and sabotage Mochida's gear, see how he likes it - but there's an infinitesimal hesitation in Takeshi's movements when he accepts the weight of the gear. "Ah," Takeshi says, and only that.
"Maybe it's a bit weird for a guy that plays baseball," the minion that had held Tsunayoshi by the shirt says. "But even if you're only used to having a helmet, playing with swords is dangerous, you know."
"Haha - well, maybe I didn't think that part through," Takeshi says with a smile. "But you're right, after all. Thanks, but - I don't need this." And having said that, he holds the armor back out at them.
No one takes it back for a second, more or less gaping incredulously at him. Tsunayoshi wants to protest, because surely even off balanced armor is better than no armor, but -
"Are you serious? Yamamoto, don't you understand how a duel even works? You'll be hitting each other with swords!"
"Well, it's not a metal one that will cut after all," he says reassuringly, even as he takes the clothing off his shoulder and begins to dress. "It's fine! Mochida won't mind, right?"
No one can properly argue with that, the kendo members only too aware of what they'd been trying to do.
"Well, he won't go easy on you just because you've refuse the gear," one of them blusters a bit, even as they seem to decide that this is an acceptable alternative to their original plans.
"Sure! I'm fine with that. I won't, either," Takeshi agrees easily.
The one that held Tsunayoshi up by his shirt laughs, and pats Takeshi on the shoulder. Takeshi looks at him like something with too many teeth and a wide, yawning mouth just searching for something small and helpless to shove down it. Not a single one of the boys seem to recognize his expression as anything of concern.
It's only as they leave that Takeshi seems to realize that Tsunayoshi himself is there, brightening a bit. "Oh, Tsuna!" he says. He carries the bokken they handed over in one careless hand. Tsunayoshi has seen him treat baseball bats he's snapped in half on accident with more respect. "What are you doing back here? Did come to see the fight?"
"As if I wouldn't," Tsunayoshi says, exasperated. "It's my fault this is all happening." Uncomfortably averting his eyes, he says, "I thought those guys might be up to something, so I followed them, too."
"Oh, yeah," Takeshi agrees blithely, lifting the bokken a bit. "That gear was all off balance and this sword is a bit crummy, but - well, it's not like I was planning on holding back in the first place."
"Even the sword has been sabotaged?" he yelps.
Takeshi blinks, tilting his head. "No? It's just bad. But it's for school kids, so maybe quality ones weren't in the budget. Sometimes the bats in my club are like that, too - so I usually try to break them during practice to get them replaced. It can't be helped if it snaps when I swing at a ball, right?"
Why does Tsunayoshi even bother feeling surprised by the people who choose to be around him anymore? It's obvious from that alone that there's no way they can possibly be normal, so Takeshi knowing immediately somehow that the kendo club members were trying to give him bad gear is well within the realms of rationality - no, it really isn't!
"How is it you can possibly know instantly that the gear was sabotaged?" Tsunayoshi demands.
Takeshi looks a little taken aback. "Well, if it's sabotaged, then that explains that," he says. "I thought it was a bit funny just to be amatuer gear. Oh - um. This is a bit embarrassing." He gives Tsunayoshi a sheepish look that fits strangely on his face, like some massive dog with snarling teeth suddenly trying to look cute and beg for scraps. "It's not very sporting, but - well, in the end, I never joined the kendo club because finding anyone that could give me a challenge was difficult? I actually have to work hard at baseball to be good, which is why I went with that instead. Haha - it's a bit unfair since Pops is considered a master of kenjutsu, you know?"
Ah - hadn't Takeshi himself said something about 'blades' when talking about learning from his father? All this time, Tsunayoshi had just overlooked those comments since he'd only thought of a dojo as something that involved kicks and strikes with a fist. He wonders how he could have mistaken it that way for a second, given old man Yamamoto and Takeshi's temperament and history; Takeshi even now looks like he was born to wear the combination of a gi and hakama, although Tsunayoshi doubts that any samurai from earlier eras would ever look so much like someone eagerly awaiting praise all the time.
Takeshi sure is unexpectedly cunning.
"Still," Tsunayoshi says fretfully. "Even if it's fighting with bokken and not a sword with an edge - not wearing any armor at all is a bit…"
Takeshi laughs. "It's fine! The way Pops taught me the art, we don't use armor anyway. There's a way to cut that goes through even that much, so Pops said it's better never to develop a reflex of trying to depend on it, just in case. A strike to kill will kill no matter what."
No wonder Takeshi thoughtlessly puts his life on the line without any consideration! Of course the regard of the father that taught him that way of think won't be enough to stop him!
"At least try not to die! Even if it's against someone you think of as second-rate, don't let your guard down for even an instant!" Tsunayoshi takes a couple of breaths to steady himself after his outburst - Mochida's resolve is weak and so he's unlikely to be any kind of threat, he thought so himself, but the idea of Takeshi going against Mochida with that kind of resolve carries unpleasant echoes of things that he prefers not to think about. He clutches at the front of his shirt and sighs. "If at all possible," he says, "please don't let anything happen to yourself that you wouldn't let happen to one of your club members." Then, going off his gut instincts, says, "Or even me."
When Tsunayoshi looks to see with how much sincerity Takeshi is willing to meet that, he's instead greeted with Takeshi looking bright eyed and flushed.
"Okay, Tsuna," Takeshi says, looking at him as if he's hung the moon, the sun, and the stars. "Got it! My body belongs to you."
Wait-! What kind of weird thing did he just say?!
Before Tsunayoshi can even begin to gather his scattered and flustered thoughts together, Takeshi - filled with renewed purpose - strides out of the room, his hand clenched with tight determination around the handle of the bokken that he rests against his shoulder. Tsunayoshi scurries after him, but he has to jog to catch up and then keep up with Takeshi's long, purposeful stride. It's too awkward to confront Takeshi about whatever it was he just said in front of witnesses, so Tsunayoshi fretfully just says, "be careful."
"Leave it to me," Takeshi says without looking back, striding toward the center of the gym where Mochida already stood with three referees: one of his own members, one a council member likely appointed by Tomaso since she's standing near the edge of the, the third -
"What are you doing here," Tsunayoshi demands.
Hoshino looks down his nose at him, a fairly easy feat given that he's slowly growing into something of a giant himself; the angle is particularly bad for the scars on his face. "You didn't think for one instant that the Committee hasn't been aware of your actions, did you?" he says flatly.
"Honestly, I didn't consider the Committee at all," Tsunayoshi shoots back resentfully. The Committee member that holds the third set of kendo flags isn't anyone that Tsunayoshi is immediately familiar with, not the way he is with Hoshino or Nakamoto, but he recognizes the boy as being one of the few that he'd considered a good person aside from their behavioral problems.
"And that's why you're a shortsighted little idiot who hides important secrets from your own friends," Hoshino surmises bluntly, but Tsunayoshi only cuts him a look because he learned his lesson the first time, hadn't he? He's not keeping secrets anymore. Other than That incident, but he can't quite release the anxiety that if his household ever found out exactly what kind of scum he was-
(If they want to be by his side, he should make that possible, even if it entails cutting out the pieces of him that are undesirable. 'Becoming capable of anything' is too much a part of him to be removed even surgically, but - ahh.)
It seemed that despite the efforts of the kendo club, it would be a more or less fair match - or as much as one can be with Takeshi out there dressed only in cloth with no armor. Mochida jeers about it loudly, but Takeshi is completely submerged in his usual antics. If not for the way his feet are set and the looseness of his posture - Shioya had worked hard to instill that same kind of casual readiness in Tsunayoshi, considering that tells were such an important part of boxing - there would be no sign at all that he was taking any part of this seriously.
Takeshi, much like Haru, has a secret heart that he prefers not to share, even though he's allowed Tsunayoshi to see glimpses of it from time to time. Though, isn't Tsunayoshi a bit like that, too?
"Tsuna-kun," a voice at his elbow says, and he turns to see a different set of amber eyes gazing at him, "excuse me, but do you know what this is about?"
Tsunayoshi flinches back, but thankfully manages to swallow down the distressed noise that wants to come out; with Takeshi in the mood he's in, the last thing Tsunayoshi wants is to agitate him any further. "Kyoko-chan," he says, and then for safety's sake: "Hana-chan." He could hardly expect either of them to easily overlook something like this, especially given that it's Mochida. "Sorry, it's my fault. Takeshi is a bit - well."
"Yamamoto-kun, huh," Kyoko echoes, pressing her finger to her lip momentarily as she glances out where the match is being set up in the middle of the gym. Then she sighs heavily, brow pinching. "What should I do? It seems like everyone is set on making trouble for you."
"Well, no one said you had to tolerate that monkey," Hana points out, glowering at the boy in question.
"No, but I couldn't exactly leave him alone either," she points out, which is such a familiar sentiment that Tsunayoshi smiles a bit.
"Sorry, but, in this case I think it's my friends making trouble for you," he says. "I can handle senpai myself, but Takeshi got involved. Um." He gazes out the match as Mochida and Takeshi moved into position, Mochida in protective gear and Takeshi only in cloth, crouching and waiting for the sign to begin. Takeshi still has a pleasant smile plastered onto his face, but his eyes are overly bright and alert. Behind the wire mask, Mochida's face is savage.
Tsunayoshi returns his attention to the two girls at his side, and apologetically adds, "Sorry, I did my best to convince Takeshi to let Mochida leave alive, but…"
Hana has enough time to give him a strange look before the match begins. Almost immediately, all trace of lightheartedness vanish from Takeshi, and in the next instant, the referees are calling flags and Tsunayoshi is left wondering why he ever thought that Takeshi wouldn't carry a blade in his hand as if it's a natural extension of himself. There's no trace of the baseball geek now: while never a clumsy or awkward person to begin with, no one could possibly ask for more skill or poise from anyone with a sword in hand.
Hana lets out a startled, breathless "oh," and Kyoko hums with concern as the two swordsmen step apart, Takeshi's bokken having hit the point along Mochida's ribs while easily avoiding the slash Mochida had made for his wrists. Although the kendo club member stubbornly refuses to signal either way, both the council and committee referee easily raise Takeshi's white flag.
But for Takeshi, the rest of them may as well not even exist. His force is intense and sure and didn't waver from one instant from his opponent, despite the shocked and excited shrieks from the surrounding students. This is another part of the picture that Tsunayoshi had seen the edges of - the broad strokes of - but hadn't been able to make out. You have to take that seriously or someone could die, Takeshi had said, with full knowledge and understanding of 'death' in his eyes and in his words.
The understanding that Takeshi is a naturally born murderer, raised with his instincts honed to a fine edge, finally blooms completely. If anyone could understand That thing that Tsunayoshi had done, it would be Takeshi, wouldn't it?
Tsunayoshi is still a child in many ways. He'll have to do better for the sake of the people he's looking after.
Takeshi and Mochida meet in the middle again, and the second round is over just as fast as the first: both step and shout, but Mochida's swing at Takeshi's ribs is too slow compared to the sharp strike that Takeshi lands directly on the front of his head. As two white flags go up while they step apart, the boiling fury that Mochida feels is almost tangible. The change in the atmosphere that happens is strange - instead of holding their breath for the next round, everyone begins to chatter exicitably.
Kyoko seems to sense Tsunayoshi's confusion, sighing with a bit of regret: "the rounds only go to three. Yamamoto-kun getting two points already means that the match is called in his favor. It can't even be disputed over his composure, since it was perfect the entire time."
"A surprising upset with it being the baseball monkey," Hana says, sounding reluctantly impressed.
Tsunayoshi only half hears them, attention still focused on the two boys at the center of the gym, because Mochida's resolve is weak, but in this moment of humiliated rage - "Takeshi!"
He's almost not fast enough. Only at the last second does Takeshi pull the jab he'd aimed at Mochida's throat, blinking just the once as he does so, and then Mochida's bokken strikes at his shoulder, narrowly missing the blow he'd aimed at Takeshi's head. Although it's strong enough to almost stagger Takeshi, he doesn't flinch under the strike, and his grip on his bokken remains tight and secure.
Everything has gone strangely glassy and sharp. Tsunayoshi's palms and fingertips prickle painfully, as if he's stuck them directly from frozen winter air into hot water to wash them. His head throbs the same. His body throbs, and in the time it takes his heart to beat and breath to enter his lungs, the knowledge that's been there every waking second of everyday gains relevance, as Tsunayoshi knows how -
What he knows doesn't matter, though, as the Committee referee is suddenly at Mochida's throat, holding the flag like a knife. Hoshino is striding forward with a thunderous look on his brow and something far more feral in his stride than Takeshi has dreamed of being. "Kensuke!" Kyoko says sharply, with such a disappointed tone of rebuke that it cuts through the startled noise the crowd makes.
At his side, Hana's hand clamps down on Tsunayoshi's shoulder. "Don't even think about it," she says sharply.
Some kind of awful thing shakes through him, a placid lake disturbed by something large and heavy falling into it. Hana's resolve is impressive, and he doesn't want to fight her, but there are certain things he can't bring himself to tolerate and she stands next to him with all her weak spots wide open. He looks up at her, and she clenches her jaw against whatever it is she sees in his face, her lips pinching together as white as her skin.
"Everyone already has everything under control," she tells him, and it's more or less true when he looks. Kyoko has taken over Mochida by his elbow, and at least three more committee members have joined the two already on the floor, standing between Mochida and Takeshi, arms crossed and faces forbidding. Takeshi has relaxed out of his swordsman's poise, one hand rubbing fretfully at his injured shoulder, and a few of his closest friends from his club have already arrived at his side, one already with an ice pack in hand and the other scowling furiously at the kendo captain.
Although he knows better than to think so, some part of him still puzzles over the evidence that no one has even thought to consider Tsunayoshi's part in it all. It's just - he already knew the manner in which he was going to - ahh, but no. It's bad. He can't allow himself to think things like that.
He should understand the situation better before deciding what kind of fate that Mochida will play for this. And Tomaso Nerina, for allowing it in the first place. There's so much sulfur and smoke filling his chest that he should be choking on it, except that to something like him, breathing poison and ash comes naturally; the wildly flaring embers that are scattering like a whirlwind inside his lungs and heart and head don't even hurt him, even as he chars and hallows and those embers ignite and devour and consume.
The painful tingling in his palms should be so lucky as to become numbed -
"Don't you have something like this backwards?" the boy with milkspill hair wonders, standing on the side of Tsunayoshi opposite Hana. "Again and again and again. Someone like us should be special, but you always seem to think that care should go in the opposite direction. It's almost enough to make me wish for a will less self-serving, you know."
Tsunayoshi should have realized before that no one realizes that he's here - the boy with long tangles of uncared for hair. There is sulfur and ash in Tsunayoshi's lungs and embers burning through his heart, and he looks at the young teenager standing next to him in a hospital gown and bare feet and bandages wrapped around thin wrists with so many needle marks in them. For once, the boy seems to see Tsunayoshi looking back at him, and he smiles something broken and sharp.
"Ah - I guess Nayo-tan can't help it, though," he sighs. "That's just the way people like us are. We collect people around us, and then? Well, then we fear to lose the things we have, don't we? And when it comes to losing things-"
His pale eyes lose focus for a moment, flittering back and forth, reading distant text: billboards and road signs and maps.
"Well, we have to protect them, you see," he says, and looks sharply at Tsunayoshi. "Do you see?"
It's a foolish thing to ask someone whose gut instinct upon watching some guy knock his mother to the ground was the immediate murder of that man and his cohorts, isn't it? And just now, what was he thinking in the first place? Crippling Hana and then? What he was planning to do in retribution. By this time, Tsunayoshi well understands the art of protecting things. It's protecting them and keeping them at the same time that's the difficult part - it's acting on their behalf without overstepping and making them feel pressured. Terrorizing their foes without terrorizing them.
If they can't speak their hearts plainly to him without fear, then they're not being protected, are they?
The laugh that breaks out of the boy standings next to him sounds like things falling off shelves in a distant basement. "People raised into it understand it less well than you do," he says, sharp and snapping and brittle. "There just isn't any competition to that blessed bloodline of yours - ah. Although it's so misfortunate, isn't it? Or otherwise that blessed bloodline would cherish you instead of leaving you abandoned to be picked up by any hand that is kind enough." He grins. His teeth are sharp and white and strangely jagged, as if they've never been used to bite down on anything even once.
"And what about you?" Tsunayoshi asks him, and they aren't boys standing in a gym together anymore, are they? "What about your bloodline?"
What Tsunayoshi is truly asking must be transparent to the young man standing next to him, because there's something like a terrible fury on his face, and also a great loneliness, and also -
But that child has run away again, as usual. It must be difficult to visit, in various ways, Tsunayoshi thinks, and then he twitches and blinks as his surroundings come back into clarity. Over his shoulder, opposite the one held by Hana, Kyoya stands up against the wall near the door with his hands loose and empty at his sides, sharp eyes dark as he meets Tsunayoshi's with nothing more than mild curiosity. The sulfur and ash, unable to escape, begins to suffocate the searing embers inside Tsunayoshi's heart, because - ah, isn't that right? He had been relieved at one time at the idea that someone would kill him if it came to that.
He forgot for an instant that he had ever wanted something like that.
Even at this distance, he can see Kyoya click his tongue with dismissal, not irritable but mostly bored. The crowding must have drawn him here, Tsunayoshi thinks, but he's not scattering anyone; it's like he doesn't have time for it, or otherwise no longer has an inclination toward such childish pursuits. Tsunayoshi's eyes linger on his hanging fingertips, stained with ink, and where under Kyoya's jacket, the tonfa hang unused and ignored. His hands flex with something like sympathy, prickling and aching still.
Honestly, he's a little disappointed to see Kyoya's back, but he won't gain anything by chasing after him, will he? If there's no time or interest for it, then he'll just be a bother. Come to think of it, had Kyoya ever before this year truly have the patience to apply himself to so much paperwork? It certainly seemed to Tsunayoshi that it had always been Kusakabe's job, taking care of the 'club' aspect of the Disciplinary Committee - although the Committee isn't really a 'club' per se. And now, if rumor is to be believed, Kyoya has been applying himself in difficult ways for Tsunayoshi's sake despite not showing a great deal of interest in seeking him out.
But if he learned anything from meeting with Saitoh again, its that just because people don't seek him out doesn't mean that they don't linger on their memory of him or aren't happy to see him again.
'Happy' isn't how he'd describe the line of Kyoya's back as he pushes out of the gym doors.
Hana removes the hand from his shoulder, huffing. "It's just like that monkey to hover around in the background," she says, crossing her arms over her chest and watching after Kyoya. "But I guess if anyone could stop you from doing something completely boneheaded, it would be him." She looks down at Tsunayoshi then, mistrustful.
Although the embers have burnt themselves out from their own smoke, it doesn't seem likely that Hana will quickly forget whatever it was she saw on his face. Tsunayoshi guesses that she isn't what old man Yamamoto or Shioya would call 'unable to see what's in front of their face.'
Although she hadn't noticed his lapse of attention before he noticed Kyoya. Somehow, he expects that, as well. It's not surprising at all. Why would she have? After all, she isn't -
-0-
No, the problem doesn't lay with Hana at all, does it?
-0-
Mochida: Yamamoto, as one ten to another -
Takeshi: haha! Actually, I'm an eleven, and I'm not interested in listening to you.
Yubitsume, also said 'yubi o tobasu' or 'finger flying' is the yakuza/bōryokudan practice of chopping off parts of your littlest finger to atone for offenses. It's especially bad for kendo users, since the little finger is important for gripping the sword. Oyabun is literally 'foster parent' which accounts for Mochida's mention about being adopted.
Takeshi really heckin loves his boss. "Treat your body like you would mine," is what Tsunayoshi told him, so he took that to heart.
I said that Tsunayoshi would call Tsuyoshi by his given name, but when reading quickly, I think it's too easy to mistake the two names? So for the most part, Tsuyoshi will be called 'Old man Yamamoto' in narrative, even if Tsunayoshi calls him 'Tsuyoshi-san' in dialog.
