life will work against you

CHAPTER NINE

You've decided your new personality for this week was something along the lines of I wanna fucking kill myself. It's basically your mantra at this point, as you chew through a packet of gum angrily.

This tutoring thing was scaring you. Like seriously scaring you. You had always been a bit of a boaster to Kaz and Chichi about your amazing talents and amazing ass and amazing—okay, where is this going? But the idea of being put in your rightful place by Kuroo because of your tendency to behave like a simpleton was pretty annoying.

"Did you have lunch?" On cue, he appears.

Kuroo slips through the sliding door to the empty classroom and the door shutters against the frame with a judder.

You roll your eyes. Is he roleplaying as your parent or something? "Is it relevant?"

"Just curious," He says, shrugging.

You size him up. Which is a bit crazy given he's like still a metre and a bit away and you're in your seat. "No," You say. "I'm not hungry."

Your stomach rumbles. That stupid fucking burrito you had for breakfast.

" ... "

"That was the wind," You correct him. "Just sit down. I don't need you judging me like a—" You stop, trying to think of something very on point but fail to come to it, so you just say, "lame judge."

Better than judge fullstop.

Kuroo does as you say. "You seem grumpier than usual."

His answer is so blunt it may as well have kicked you in the stomach.

"I'm just annoyed," You mutter.

You had a lot on your plate. Yesterday morning you'd woken up with Yoshiko's fucking lipgloss on your cracked lips. You hadn't seen her in nearly two years and you just had to make-out with her. You hated it. You hated it. So. Much.

Kuroo jolts you out of whatever it is that's swallowed you because your knuckles look white.

"I brought a physics textbook today," He slams it down on your desk.

You arch an eyebrow, "There's no way this is our Physics textbook."

"It is," He says, grinning.

"It's bigger than the Bible."

He wrinkles his nose, "Since when have you ever seen a Bible?"

You appear pseudo-offended, "Me and God had a relationship long before you came into the picture."

"So God tutored you," He's got that stupid shit-eating grin again.

"Isn't that how religion works?" You roll your eyes. Every attempt at comedy is being topped by his comedy. "God's the teacher and everyone else are—" Pause. "Students?"

Kuroo flicks open the textbook to somewhere halfway, "Are you religious?"

The question catches you wildly off-guard. You've tensed up like he threw you a curveball.

The truth is that you stopped believing in God when you realised that the reason why your prayers weren't answered was because he didn't exist. Science in school put religion at odds with you; you'd trail your parents to church and sit in the pews, counting the number of tiles that made-up a mosaic, or come up with a song that came from the trees chittering in the wind at the temples. Your mother knew that you had stopped believing but she explained it pretty well. Faith is inconsistent, few far and between. It careens between the young and old. Or when you want to escape your reality.

It sounds emo to say that God had forsaken you. The idea of a higher being screwing over your life is more appetising than the idea that your reality is just an unlucky predicament that happened because it could.

"No, I'm not religious." You drill your eyes into the textbook.

And Kuroo drills his eyes into your forehead—can this guy not?!

"What about you?" You blurt.

He taps his chin for a moment and then—

"I guess not."

The answer isn't what you expect, but then again you don't know what you were expecting. It's a bit confusing to expect anything of him at all.

This is fucking doing my head in. You try and concentrate on the equations for the rest of the class.

——————

"So how was it?" Chichi burps into your face.

You burp back at her, "I survived. I'm a warrior, after all."

After the session, you zipped out to get lunch. Chichi waited for you. (She has attachment issues.) You both grabbed a tray and sat down in a corner of the hall.

"This is really fucking good," She's gobbling down her bowls of rice like it's her first meal after being deserted on an island. "Let's go to the Spot after."

You scratch your neck, "We're seeing that fuck after school. If you're bored—"

Chichi interjects, "Am not."

"Where's your eye-candy white boy of the month?"

"I don't have a tracker on him," She says flatly.

What she sees in Lev Haiba, you'll never know. But her crushing on a junior is the highlight of your year. You've only seen him like three times. He's supposed to be this melanin-deficient giraffe according to Chichi.

You come up with an idea. "Whoever eats more bowls wins."

"Wins what?"

"I didn't think that far."

She snaps the two of her chopsticks together, thinking. "If you lose, you're sitting with Nao Takara and Arata Mirai."

"Bring it on," You narrow your eyes, "If you lose, you better stick to Lev Haiba like glue for the rest of lunch."

Chichi races you back to the line for seconds.

And then thirds.

And by the fourth bowl, you think your stomach might explode.

"Can we—" She wipes the crumbs off her mouth, "—call it a tie? Pretty-please, snookums?"

"Ugh fine. Only because I love you or whatever."

She blows you a kiss and then to her horror, watches you wave down Lev Haiba.

He has bright doe-like eyes that mismatch his entire body. What a soft face for a packed figure. You can kind of see the similarities with his sister—you know Alisa sort of well—but for the most part, he looks like you could eat him up for breakfast. Then again, Chichi likes those kind of guys.

She doesn't look like it since she acts so cute, but you're pretty sure her sexual fantasies are off the charts.

"I'll see you at your place." You stick your tongue out. 

——————

Maybe you like suffering or something. Or being put into difficult situations. Wait a minute—does that make me a masochist?

"[L/n]?" Mirai says, almost shyly.

Takara's staring daggers at you. You alternate between the plaster on her nose and Mirai's unreadable expression.

"I'm sitting with you guys," You drop your tray to the seat next to Takara and she's literally shaking with anger. You're fighting the urge to punch her again.

Mirai surveys you for a second, "Sure. If Takara's okay with it."

Takara doesn't even hide it, "You know they punched me, right?"

Your eyes screw shut like you're diluting your anger. When they reopen, it's heavy-lidded, near dead. "Why would I punch you?"

"Because you're just like your father—"

Curiously, Mirai had already raised her arm like she was going to pull back your own punch. Takara winced right after her words, like you really were going to punch her again.

Mirai has this thing where she separates people into categories. You used to be semi-friends with her last year so that's why. She thinks she can determine a person's character after one interaction. Because of it, the way she behaves changes with each person. It makes her seem fake.

You really were going to punch her. She deserved it.

But everyone seems to expect violence of you. You're not very cunning—it's why interacting with highschool girls is a bit of a problem for an airhead like you. Maybe psychological torture is a good way to go.

"Biologically, I am," You say, using your chopsticks to take some of Takara's food off her plate, "We learnt that in science, didn't we?"

Mirai breaks into a smile. Like she's found something interesting. "Isn't that right, Takara?"

"Yeah—" Takara spits out, plastering on a shaky smile. "Whatever."

"How's tutoring, [L/n]?" Mirai asks, propping her chin on her palm.

Your attention had gone back to Chichi who was re-enacting the moment she fell off Kaz's skateboard while high to Lev and a familiar twerp—Yaku?

"Huh?" You say, "It's fine. Looks like I'll pass the year after all."

Takara exhales, winded. "If only Ayame was here."

You shiver. She's Kuroo's girlfriend or something. There's no such thing as a secret relationship at Nekoma High. Everyone knows everyone—once a relationship is established in the school, even if it lasts for a day, it'll become known. You heard it through the grapevine that the two had been dating for two months but you pay it no mind.

You've also seen enough dramas to know that nothing good comes out of relationships. You better steer clear of her unless she wants to rip you a new one or something. That murderer delinquent is stealing my Tetsucles Testosterone from me!

Chichi drops you a message.

rabid chihuahua

PLEASE SAVE ME

I KEEP FUCKING EMBARASSSINGMYSELF

IN FRONT OF HIM

you

LMAOOOOOOOOOO

No fuck you im caught in some

psychological drama shit rn

rabid chihuahua

Hes so like

idk

i wanna just NOMNOMNOM

you

Im gonna throw up

stop it

Save it for our gossiping session

rabid chihuahua

Fine but

How do i get out of this situation

Lunch isnt over

You mouth something to Chichi. She makes a face like she doesn't want to. Do it, you say. And she flips the table over before running away.

——————

Chichi lives on the seventeenth floor of an apartment complex. Her parents work long hours so it's convenient to hang out at her place. There's tons of pictures of her family even though she's a kid born out of wedlock—it's why she had to live abroad. Her mother is French; blonde, thin-lipped, bright eyes. And her father is the pinnacle of the average Japanese office worker. They treat you nice, even if you can be off-putting. Maybe because they don't know about your dad. It's nice to pretend with them that you're a little bit normal and not totally unhinged.

"Where's Sadako?" You put down one of the pictures, looking around.

Kaz is laying flat on the floor like his head is spinning. "Yeah, where is she?"

"I told you guys to stop calling her that," Chichi sits cross-legged at the foot of the couch. "I think my parents took her to the dentist."

Sadako—sorry, Sayaka—is Chichi's little sister. The first time you met her, it was because she had gotten stuck at the bottom of a well and Chichi didn't know who else to call apart from you. You, of course, did fuck all and sent Chichi down the well herself. Thus, the Sadako nickname was born.

"At least we can talk freely," You say. Even you have conscience—you can't just blurt about some stuff in front of an eight year-old.

"Did you actually make out with Yoshiko?"

"Kaz!" Chichi howls, bending over.

You swat the back of his head, "Yes. I have issues."

The three of you dissect the weekend with extremity.

Chichi was losing her mind at a mediocre man: Lev Haiba. Kaz was dragging himself through yet another 'will-they, won't-they?' situationship. And you—

Well, you spend the next few hours defending your pride and honour from being shattered at the notion of getting closer to Kuroo.

"It is pretty funny that his grandparents live where you work—"

"Government-mandated community service," You chide.

"Yeah, yeah," Kaz rolls his eyes, "You're a delinquent."

"Shall I get real with you guys then?" You hug your chest with your free arm, finishing Chichi's snacks.

She pulls the packet away from you before you can get the last one, "Pretend we're your therapists."

"Don't you feel like what we have right now is good enough? Like I can't tell if I change things that they'll become better or worse, y'know."

"Are you saying that like, tutoring, won't help you?"

You wave your hand, "Forget it."

Maybe this is something you should just keep to yourself—

"No way," Kaz grips your hand, locking fingers, "Why would things get worse? You're gonna bump your grade, finish community service and start with a clean slate."

"Ugh," You drop your head back into his lap, hair splayed and hand reaching out to the ceiling, "That's too much work."

Chichi sighs, "This lazy fat fuc—"

You throw the nearest cushion at her face and start a pillow fight.