Gift Fic for rooftophopping!
Gift fic for rooftophopping
From kis_my_fic2
Title: Getting on the league
Pairings/Characters: gen, though hinted Nikaido/Senga, Fujigaya/Yokoo and Miyatama
Rating: G
Warnings: -
Summary: Having superpowers does not make your life easier.
Notes: Dear rooftophopping, I hope I’ve got at least a little of what you want in here, and that this plotline/particular brand of AU isn’t dead and buried under a ton of fic. I had four other ideas that didn’t write the way I wanted them to, then this didn’t write the way I wanted it though, so mm. I hope you like it anyway ♥
Much love to my cheerleaders, speedy betas and the anon I found on meme.
In all honesty, Nikaido is thoroughly unable to think of worse conditions for this… this mockery of a mission. He can’t see the sky, since it’s night time and really, really dark, but the clouds that rolled in early evening looked threatening and heavy with rain. Nikaido guesses it’s only a matter of time before it starts hammering down, and he really, really doesn’t want to be caught in that.
He wishes Tamamori would hurry up.
Actually, he wishes that Fujigaya wasn’t so prone to eavesdropping and late night movies, a combination that leads to things like this: Nikaido ‘keeping watch’ and Tamamori ‘spying’. It’s a bit of a pointless endeavour though, because Tamamori will, inevitably, be distracted by something and forget to keep listening, or forget that he’s hovering outside a window eight stories up.
Nikaido hopes that whatever information Fujigaya wants is worth putting Tamamori out of commission for a bit, because Nikaido is still not entirely sure how fast he can shift states, or if he can even shift to something that isn’t living and breathing. He also really hopes that he doesn’t have to try because he thinks he’s stuck.
He tries three easy shifts, and sighs. No change in eye level, no change in senses and the irrational urge to have his belly scratched hasn’t gone away. Definitely stuck.
As Nikaido makes mental notes to get Fujigaya back for this, there is a thud and a groan to the left of him, followed by a string of curses and a small, choked sniffle.
“Nika?”
Well at least he didn’t knock himself out, Nikaido thinks, that is definitely an improvement.
“Nika, where are you? If you’re a plant ruffle your leaves or something.” There are a couple of other crashes and the sound of snapping twigs until Tamamori’s boot clad feet are directly in front of Nikaido’s nose.
“You’re stuck, aren’t you?” Tamamori asks, though the tone of his voice sounds more like a statement than a question, and far too amused for Nikaido’s liking. Even so, he lets himself be picked up and tucked into the cradle Tamamori creates with his arms, huddling closer when the first drops of rain begin to fall.
Tamamori laughs and rests a hand atop Nikaido’s head, petting the soft fur gently as he walks. “Ne, Nika, you’re cute as a puppy,” he pauses, like he’s expecting an answer of some form then continues on before Nikaido can do so much as shift his weight. “Don’t pee on me though, because I like this jacket.”
Nikaido sighs, he wasn’t going to, but now that the idea has been planted in his head he guesses that it would’ve been a funny prank, one that he could blame on the weakness of a puppy-bladder afterwards. Though Yokoo would probably reprimand him, then insist on apartment training him in all his forms. As soon as Nikaido imagines Yokoo’s stern ‘you are doing this, or so help me’ face and Kitayama’s background cackles, the allure of the prank fades. Instead, he listens to Tamamori wondering aloud if Kitayama’s super speed is transferable and if Miyata’s invisibility makes him invisible to rain.
Much to Nikaido’s annoyance, he hasn’t reverted to human form when they reach their ‘base’. (Fujigaya had insisted they all call it a base to make them feel more like a team) He concedes that it’s probably better than transforming on the way back and having to travel the rest of the way in a questionable state of undress, since he hasn’t mastered transforming fully clothed yet. He would, however, have avoided Fujigaya flinging the door open and yelling gleefully to Kitayama that Kitayama now owes him money.
“I hate you,” Nikaido says, but it comes out as a plaintive little whimper and Tamamori sets him down on the floor where he stays because four legs are too tiring to try and co-ordinate. He does have enough energy to frown up at the gathering crowd of his team mates.
Fujigaya is trying to stifle his snickers as Kitayama digs around in his pockets for his wallet, Miyata is fussing over Tamamori with a massive and overly fluffy white towel, and Yokoo looks thoroughly unimpressed at the wet puddle that Nika is sitting in.
“You’re stuck, aren’t you.” he says, lips quirking into an amused half smile that shows a hint of fang. It’s a smile that, Nikaido has learned, means teasing is imminent. Everyone falls silent, even Miyata, and Nikaido is infinitely relieved when Tamamori picks that moment to relay the information he got from eavesdropping at high altitude.
“Guys,” he says, batting Miyata’s hands away, “we’re getting a new team mate!”
Nikaido spends the next three hours lying on his bed and listening to the hushed voices of Yokoo, Kitayama and Fujigaya through his door. He’s normal again, thankfully, although he sort of wishes he wasn’t so that he could have the benefits of better hearing, or that he had Fujigaya’s enhanced senses. The words Nikaido manages to catch make no sense out of context, things like formations and trials and seasons. Heck, even in context Nikaido doesn’t think they’d make sense. With that in mind, he dispels the idea of shifting into something small that flies; it would probably end with him smushed against a wall with all his insect guts on a fly swatter.
Nikaido huffs and rolls on to his stomach. His DS is sat on the pillow next to him, but he doesn’t feel like trying to beat the boss level he’s currently stuck on, he doesn’t feel like doing much of anything, really. Whenever he tries to focus, his mind is drawn back to new team mate and the looks that passed between the eldest three.
It probably means that Nikaido is going to get a roommate, since he and Kitayama are the only ones without at present - Kitayama because he’s the oldest, and Nikaido because he is, apparently, a brat. (Actually he’s pretty sure he is, but not as much as he used to be) He wonders about what the new guy will be like, what ability he’ll have and whether he’ll be in any way cool. He also wonders about more practical things, like if there is actually enough room for a seventh person, and if he’ll have to take on more chores, because more people means more mess, and Yokoo hates mess.
Nikaido drifts off that night to the sound of his thoughts; Fujigaya’s raised voice, slamming doors and Tamamori’s hopefully completely unrelated giggles.
The morning dawns grey and unwelcome, dull light sneaking through gaps in curtains and falling on peacefully sleeping faces in a gentle attempt to rouse them, only to give up when ten alarm clocks seem to do a better job.
In any case, Nikaido jolts awake, partly because of the incessant ringing in his ear that needs to stop right that minute, partly because something feels so… odd. As soon as he shuts off his alarm, the problem is instantly clear.
The apartment is too quiet.
Normally there’s a three way conversation yelled between rooms about whose turn it is to wake Kitayama, all participants too warm, comfortable or lazy to move to talk to each other at a normal volume, followed by an argument over who gets the first morning shower and the hot water and finishing with Tamamori’s heartfelt lament over the incompetence of his flat irons.
But there is none of that, and it’s making Nikaido nervous.
Gingerly, he extracts himself from his cocoon of blankets, slips into a pair of warm sweats and pads out of his room as quietly as he can - if the whole apartment is still sleeping, he doesn’t want to go waking them up.
It turns out that Miyata and Tamamori are, Nikaido presses his ear gently against their door and hears quiet, fluttering snores, and that restores some semblance of the normality Nikaido is trying to grasp back until he stumbles into the kitchen.
He has to rub his eyes twice to convince himself he’s not sleep-walking, or having a very vivid dream, since it’s incredibly rare to see Kitayama up making food before ten am. It’s also incredibly rare for anyone to make more than one plate of pancakes for breakfast.
“Did you find him ye- oh, you’re not Watta.” Kitayama says, his face falling ever so slightly when he spins round to face Nikaido, though he waves his arm in the general direction of the food he’s making in an attempt to cover it up. “Pancakes?”
Nikaido stares, his mouth open slightly in disbelief as he tries to wrap his head around Kitayama being awake and actively taking part in conversations at eight o’ clock in the morning.
“Um, ok,” Nikaido agrees, taking the plate Kitayama offers him, settling down at the table. “Who is Watta finding? The new person we’re getting?”
Kitayama sighs and Nikaido’s stomach drops. “It’s not, is it?”
“No.” Kitayama steps away from the cooker and sits down opposite Nikaido. “Taipi left last night and hasn’t come back yet. Watta left afterwards to look for him when it was clear he wasn’t going to come back under his own steam.”
“Why?” Nikaido asks, his pancakes taste like despair and confusion.
“Taisuke thinks that we’re close, really close, to beating the trials and getting spot on the rostas for next season’s league, and I agree. We’ll finally have the break to use these powers to do some good.”
“Isn’t that a good thing though?”
“The addition of a new team member takes us back to square one; at least it does in his eyes. Watta and I tried to convince him otherwise last night, but I think I should’ve left it to Watta. He knows what Taipi’s been through more than I do, so…”
They fall into silence, Nikaido stabbing holes into his pancakes, trying to find the right words to say. Gaining a new member doesn’t mean they have to go back to square one; they just incorporate the new ability with what they have already. Adapting, it’s what they’re supposed to do anyway, right?
Nikaido is about to voice this train of thought when the doorbell chimes, and both he and Kitayama, plus a now very awake Miyata, lunge towards the front door. It would be typical of either Yokoo or Fujigaya, or both, to run out with emotions sky high and forget their key.
Nikaido gets there first and yanks it open, only to stand there frozen when he sees that it is neither Yokoo nor Fujiyaga standing there. Instead, there’s a boy about his height with dyed hair and large, hopeful eyes holding suitcases.
“You are not Watta or Taipi.” Nikaido hears Tamamori say from somewhere over his left shoulder, and he nods in agreement.
“Nope!” the boy says, entirely too chipper for the mood and the time, “I’m Senga Kento. Please take care of me!”
It’s late when Fujigaya and Yokoo return. Miyata and Tamamori are busy folding laundry, or Miyata is while Tamamori sits there and listens to him chatter, Kitayama is doing dishes and Nikaido and Senga are rearranging Nikaido’s room so that they both fit.
(Nikaido isn’t all too happy about sacrificing drawer space because he likes his jeans folded a certain way, but Senga seems all right, so it isn’t too painful. He laughs at his jokes and thinks his prank ideas are cool, at least, so he can’t be terrible.)
As soon as the front door opens, everyone stops and Fujigaya appears dragging Yokoo by the wrist.
“Trials start in two months!” he yells angrily, removing his shoes and kicking them violently against the wall with the others. He huffs off to his room with Yokoo still in tow.
There’s a collective pained groan from the font room, and Nikaido heaves a long-suffering sigh as Senga stares at him. When Nikaido pushes his bedroom door closed, he hopes that Yokoo remembers to project a sound barrier this time.
Senga is still staring at Nikaido when he returns to sit on his futon, eyes wide and inquisitive, and he tilts his head slightly when he asks what the trials are. Nikaido passively thinks that the action is kind of cute, before trying to find a way to word his answer that won’t scare him.
“They’re like games,” he starts, “but not, I guess. They’re serious, like tests you take at school, but more physical. They the control you have of your ability, and whether or not your team works well. The first one is really hard to beat, but you get a spot on The League for a season when you do. The run up to the trials isn’t fun though. It’s super intensive training.”
Senga gulps and Nikaido knows exactly how he feels.
Training starts intensively the minute Fujigaya calms down enough to draw up a ‘battle plan’ and for Miyata to print of statistics. The three eldest spend a day and a half analysing data and highlighting areas that need work. Because Senga is an unknown quantity, they factor in extra time for team drills and practice runs.
The first two weeks are brutal, focused on endurance, although Kitayama ruins it by using his super-speed and spending the time he waits napping on whatever soft surface he can find, or teasing anyone he doesn’t think is working hard enough.
Nikaido only gets embarrassed the third time Kitayama makes fun of his endurance, or lack thereof, because Senga quite heatedly defends him, saying that no it doesn’t actually, thank you very much.
Training their abilities, on the other hand, is fairly easy for everyone but Nikaido. Senga lifts all the equipment he can find with his super strength, Kitayama is already incredibly adept at using his super speed so he can sleep for longer, Yokoo tries creating shields and barriers at any given opportunity, and most often when Fujigaya is using the sensory deprivation technique to heighten his power, Tamamori flies for hours on end and Miyata turns invisible whenever the hell he wants.
For Nikaido though, if anything, it gets harder, and it leaves him more and more frustrated, because how do you control a power that isn’t even all that useful anyway? He guesses the upside is that he gets stuck less, but it’s a very small upside.
With one week to go, tension is high, nerves are frazzled and neither Nikaido nor Senga can sleep. They’re curled up on one futon because they’ve been shushed for talking too loudly by everyone else, even if Nikaido thinks Miyata and Tamamori wouldn’t’ve actually been able to hear if they were or not.
The skin on his forearms tingles where Senga’s fingertips brush patterns onto it, and it’s the first time Nikaido has felt genuinely relaxed.
“How did you get your power?” Senga whispers after a pause of comfortable silence. It’s a question neither of them has felt the need to ask before, in fact, Nikaido doesn’t think Senga has asked anything about his power before, or any of the others.
It’s not one he has trouble answering though, not like Fujigaya or Miyata, though Nikaido still isn’t entirely sure what Miyata’s story is.
“I was born with it,” Nikaido replies, rolling on to his back to stare into the darkness. “My grandfather signed himself up for the DNA altering experiment things, back when they first started, but the mutated code didn’t manifest itself in him or my father.”
“But it did in you?”
“Yeah, though my parents didn’t realise until I was about three or four, when they found me as a baby rabbit in my bed once and freaked out. I’ve never really been able to control this thing that much.”
Senga makes a noise of understanding and nuzzles his face further into the pillow. “What about the others?”
“They all have their own stories, you can ask them tomorrow, or after training finishes might be better, but as far as I know Watta, Mitsu and Tama were all born with theirs. Miyata has a story only Tama knows, and Taipi’s is quite sad.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I don’t know the specifics, but his original power was leeched and replaced with the one he has now. He says he still has some traces of his old one too, but he’s never told us what it was because he thinks it will be awkward.”
“Oh,” Senga replies, and Nikaido can hear the sleepiness in his voice.
“I think Watta knows what it is, but he knows everything.” Nikaido chuckles a bit, “What about you.”
Senga yawns. “I was given it. In kindergarten, a man with a lot of bodyguards appeared one day, picked five of us out of the group and said we needed an injection. The teachers were wary but ultimately let them do it.”
“I’m sorry,” Nikaido whispers, and he gives the hand Senga has been drawing on his skin with a little squeeze. No child should have the burden of powers forced on them.
“Don’t be. I didn’t do too badly out of it. I definitely wouldn’t change it for anything now.” Senga gives his hand a little squeeze back. “Stop thinking and sleep, Nika-chan.”
“Mm. Good night, Kenpi.” Nikaido smiles, before falling into a world of dreams where everything is different.
On the last day of training, they stage a mini-mission and it doesn’t fail too badly. In fact, Nikaido would go as far as to say it went quite well. Though when they return to the apartment, there’s a little manila envelope sitting on the table. All seven of them stand and stare at it like it’s going to explode if they even breathe near it.
“I don’t get it,” Fujigaya starts, fingers gingerly picking up the envelope by the corners, “Don’t we have to take part in the trials for them to reject us?”
The other six nod, and Nikaido feels his stomach drop as he thinks of all the work they’ve put in. All the hours and hours and hours of work. There’s a sniffle to his left, and he catches Tamamori trying to discreetly school his face into something that does not look like a kicked puppy. On his right, he feels Senga’s fingers curl into his bicep. Yokoo hovers over Fujigaya’s shoulder, staring intently.
Kitayama yawns and snatches it out of Fujigaya’s hands.
“Hey! I was going to open that!”
“Too slow!” Kitayama drawls as he thumbs the envelope open. A slip of paper flutters out and lands, incredibly, type-up on the table.
Congratu la tions ♥
You are now part of the league for Summer Season ♥
“I don’t get it.” Fujigaya says, raising one eyebrow sceptically. “Don’t we have to take part in the trails for them to accept us?”
From kis_my_fic2
Title: Getting on the league
Pairings/Characters: gen, though hinted Nikaido/Senga, Fujigaya/Yokoo and Miyatama
Rating: G
Warnings: -
Summary: Having superpowers does not make your life easier.
Notes: Dear rooftophopping, I hope I’ve got at least a little of what you want in here, and that this plotline/particular brand of AU isn’t dead and buried under a ton of fic. I had four other ideas that didn’t write the way I wanted them to, then this didn’t write the way I wanted it though, so mm. I hope you like it anyway ♥
Much love to my cheerleaders, speedy betas and the anon I found on meme.
In all honesty, Nikaido is thoroughly unable to think of worse conditions for this… this mockery of a mission. He can’t see the sky, since it’s night time and really, really dark, but the clouds that rolled in early evening looked threatening and heavy with rain. Nikaido guesses it’s only a matter of time before it starts hammering down, and he really, really doesn’t want to be caught in that.
He wishes Tamamori would hurry up.
Actually, he wishes that Fujigaya wasn’t so prone to eavesdropping and late night movies, a combination that leads to things like this: Nikaido ‘keeping watch’ and Tamamori ‘spying’. It’s a bit of a pointless endeavour though, because Tamamori will, inevitably, be distracted by something and forget to keep listening, or forget that he’s hovering outside a window eight stories up.
Nikaido hopes that whatever information Fujigaya wants is worth putting Tamamori out of commission for a bit, because Nikaido is still not entirely sure how fast he can shift states, or if he can even shift to something that isn’t living and breathing. He also really hopes that he doesn’t have to try because he thinks he’s stuck.
He tries three easy shifts, and sighs. No change in eye level, no change in senses and the irrational urge to have his belly scratched hasn’t gone away. Definitely stuck.
As Nikaido makes mental notes to get Fujigaya back for this, there is a thud and a groan to the left of him, followed by a string of curses and a small, choked sniffle.
“Nika?”
Well at least he didn’t knock himself out, Nikaido thinks, that is definitely an improvement.
“Nika, where are you? If you’re a plant ruffle your leaves or something.” There are a couple of other crashes and the sound of snapping twigs until Tamamori’s boot clad feet are directly in front of Nikaido’s nose.
“You’re stuck, aren’t you?” Tamamori asks, though the tone of his voice sounds more like a statement than a question, and far too amused for Nikaido’s liking. Even so, he lets himself be picked up and tucked into the cradle Tamamori creates with his arms, huddling closer when the first drops of rain begin to fall.
Tamamori laughs and rests a hand atop Nikaido’s head, petting the soft fur gently as he walks. “Ne, Nika, you’re cute as a puppy,” he pauses, like he’s expecting an answer of some form then continues on before Nikaido can do so much as shift his weight. “Don’t pee on me though, because I like this jacket.”
Nikaido sighs, he wasn’t going to, but now that the idea has been planted in his head he guesses that it would’ve been a funny prank, one that he could blame on the weakness of a puppy-bladder afterwards. Though Yokoo would probably reprimand him, then insist on apartment training him in all his forms. As soon as Nikaido imagines Yokoo’s stern ‘you are doing this, or so help me’ face and Kitayama’s background cackles, the allure of the prank fades. Instead, he listens to Tamamori wondering aloud if Kitayama’s super speed is transferable and if Miyata’s invisibility makes him invisible to rain.
Much to Nikaido’s annoyance, he hasn’t reverted to human form when they reach their ‘base’. (Fujigaya had insisted they all call it a base to make them feel more like a team) He concedes that it’s probably better than transforming on the way back and having to travel the rest of the way in a questionable state of undress, since he hasn’t mastered transforming fully clothed yet. He would, however, have avoided Fujigaya flinging the door open and yelling gleefully to Kitayama that Kitayama now owes him money.
“I hate you,” Nikaido says, but it comes out as a plaintive little whimper and Tamamori sets him down on the floor where he stays because four legs are too tiring to try and co-ordinate. He does have enough energy to frown up at the gathering crowd of his team mates.
Fujigaya is trying to stifle his snickers as Kitayama digs around in his pockets for his wallet, Miyata is fussing over Tamamori with a massive and overly fluffy white towel, and Yokoo looks thoroughly unimpressed at the wet puddle that Nika is sitting in.
“You’re stuck, aren’t you.” he says, lips quirking into an amused half smile that shows a hint of fang. It’s a smile that, Nikaido has learned, means teasing is imminent. Everyone falls silent, even Miyata, and Nikaido is infinitely relieved when Tamamori picks that moment to relay the information he got from eavesdropping at high altitude.
“Guys,” he says, batting Miyata’s hands away, “we’re getting a new team mate!”
Nikaido spends the next three hours lying on his bed and listening to the hushed voices of Yokoo, Kitayama and Fujigaya through his door. He’s normal again, thankfully, although he sort of wishes he wasn’t so that he could have the benefits of better hearing, or that he had Fujigaya’s enhanced senses. The words Nikaido manages to catch make no sense out of context, things like formations and trials and seasons. Heck, even in context Nikaido doesn’t think they’d make sense. With that in mind, he dispels the idea of shifting into something small that flies; it would probably end with him smushed against a wall with all his insect guts on a fly swatter.
Nikaido huffs and rolls on to his stomach. His DS is sat on the pillow next to him, but he doesn’t feel like trying to beat the boss level he’s currently stuck on, he doesn’t feel like doing much of anything, really. Whenever he tries to focus, his mind is drawn back to new team mate and the looks that passed between the eldest three.
It probably means that Nikaido is going to get a roommate, since he and Kitayama are the only ones without at present - Kitayama because he’s the oldest, and Nikaido because he is, apparently, a brat. (Actually he’s pretty sure he is, but not as much as he used to be) He wonders about what the new guy will be like, what ability he’ll have and whether he’ll be in any way cool. He also wonders about more practical things, like if there is actually enough room for a seventh person, and if he’ll have to take on more chores, because more people means more mess, and Yokoo hates mess.
Nikaido drifts off that night to the sound of his thoughts; Fujigaya’s raised voice, slamming doors and Tamamori’s hopefully completely unrelated giggles.
The morning dawns grey and unwelcome, dull light sneaking through gaps in curtains and falling on peacefully sleeping faces in a gentle attempt to rouse them, only to give up when ten alarm clocks seem to do a better job.
In any case, Nikaido jolts awake, partly because of the incessant ringing in his ear that needs to stop right that minute, partly because something feels so… odd. As soon as he shuts off his alarm, the problem is instantly clear.
The apartment is too quiet.
Normally there’s a three way conversation yelled between rooms about whose turn it is to wake Kitayama, all participants too warm, comfortable or lazy to move to talk to each other at a normal volume, followed by an argument over who gets the first morning shower and the hot water and finishing with Tamamori’s heartfelt lament over the incompetence of his flat irons.
But there is none of that, and it’s making Nikaido nervous.
Gingerly, he extracts himself from his cocoon of blankets, slips into a pair of warm sweats and pads out of his room as quietly as he can - if the whole apartment is still sleeping, he doesn’t want to go waking them up.
It turns out that Miyata and Tamamori are, Nikaido presses his ear gently against their door and hears quiet, fluttering snores, and that restores some semblance of the normality Nikaido is trying to grasp back until he stumbles into the kitchen.
He has to rub his eyes twice to convince himself he’s not sleep-walking, or having a very vivid dream, since it’s incredibly rare to see Kitayama up making food before ten am. It’s also incredibly rare for anyone to make more than one plate of pancakes for breakfast.
“Did you find him ye- oh, you’re not Watta.” Kitayama says, his face falling ever so slightly when he spins round to face Nikaido, though he waves his arm in the general direction of the food he’s making in an attempt to cover it up. “Pancakes?”
Nikaido stares, his mouth open slightly in disbelief as he tries to wrap his head around Kitayama being awake and actively taking part in conversations at eight o’ clock in the morning.
“Um, ok,” Nikaido agrees, taking the plate Kitayama offers him, settling down at the table. “Who is Watta finding? The new person we’re getting?”
Kitayama sighs and Nikaido’s stomach drops. “It’s not, is it?”
“No.” Kitayama steps away from the cooker and sits down opposite Nikaido. “Taipi left last night and hasn’t come back yet. Watta left afterwards to look for him when it was clear he wasn’t going to come back under his own steam.”
“Why?” Nikaido asks, his pancakes taste like despair and confusion.
“Taisuke thinks that we’re close, really close, to beating the trials and getting spot on the rostas for next season’s league, and I agree. We’ll finally have the break to use these powers to do some good.”
“Isn’t that a good thing though?”
“The addition of a new team member takes us back to square one; at least it does in his eyes. Watta and I tried to convince him otherwise last night, but I think I should’ve left it to Watta. He knows what Taipi’s been through more than I do, so…”
They fall into silence, Nikaido stabbing holes into his pancakes, trying to find the right words to say. Gaining a new member doesn’t mean they have to go back to square one; they just incorporate the new ability with what they have already. Adapting, it’s what they’re supposed to do anyway, right?
Nikaido is about to voice this train of thought when the doorbell chimes, and both he and Kitayama, plus a now very awake Miyata, lunge towards the front door. It would be typical of either Yokoo or Fujigaya, or both, to run out with emotions sky high and forget their key.
Nikaido gets there first and yanks it open, only to stand there frozen when he sees that it is neither Yokoo nor Fujiyaga standing there. Instead, there’s a boy about his height with dyed hair and large, hopeful eyes holding suitcases.
“You are not Watta or Taipi.” Nikaido hears Tamamori say from somewhere over his left shoulder, and he nods in agreement.
“Nope!” the boy says, entirely too chipper for the mood and the time, “I’m Senga Kento. Please take care of me!”
It’s late when Fujigaya and Yokoo return. Miyata and Tamamori are busy folding laundry, or Miyata is while Tamamori sits there and listens to him chatter, Kitayama is doing dishes and Nikaido and Senga are rearranging Nikaido’s room so that they both fit.
(Nikaido isn’t all too happy about sacrificing drawer space because he likes his jeans folded a certain way, but Senga seems all right, so it isn’t too painful. He laughs at his jokes and thinks his prank ideas are cool, at least, so he can’t be terrible.)
As soon as the front door opens, everyone stops and Fujigaya appears dragging Yokoo by the wrist.
“Trials start in two months!” he yells angrily, removing his shoes and kicking them violently against the wall with the others. He huffs off to his room with Yokoo still in tow.
There’s a collective pained groan from the font room, and Nikaido heaves a long-suffering sigh as Senga stares at him. When Nikaido pushes his bedroom door closed, he hopes that Yokoo remembers to project a sound barrier this time.
Senga is still staring at Nikaido when he returns to sit on his futon, eyes wide and inquisitive, and he tilts his head slightly when he asks what the trials are. Nikaido passively thinks that the action is kind of cute, before trying to find a way to word his answer that won’t scare him.
“They’re like games,” he starts, “but not, I guess. They’re serious, like tests you take at school, but more physical. They the control you have of your ability, and whether or not your team works well. The first one is really hard to beat, but you get a spot on The League for a season when you do. The run up to the trials isn’t fun though. It’s super intensive training.”
Senga gulps and Nikaido knows exactly how he feels.
Training starts intensively the minute Fujigaya calms down enough to draw up a ‘battle plan’ and for Miyata to print of statistics. The three eldest spend a day and a half analysing data and highlighting areas that need work. Because Senga is an unknown quantity, they factor in extra time for team drills and practice runs.
The first two weeks are brutal, focused on endurance, although Kitayama ruins it by using his super-speed and spending the time he waits napping on whatever soft surface he can find, or teasing anyone he doesn’t think is working hard enough.
Nikaido only gets embarrassed the third time Kitayama makes fun of his endurance, or lack thereof, because Senga quite heatedly defends him, saying that no it doesn’t actually, thank you very much.
Training their abilities, on the other hand, is fairly easy for everyone but Nikaido. Senga lifts all the equipment he can find with his super strength, Kitayama is already incredibly adept at using his super speed so he can sleep for longer, Yokoo tries creating shields and barriers at any given opportunity, and most often when Fujigaya is using the sensory deprivation technique to heighten his power, Tamamori flies for hours on end and Miyata turns invisible whenever the hell he wants.
For Nikaido though, if anything, it gets harder, and it leaves him more and more frustrated, because how do you control a power that isn’t even all that useful anyway? He guesses the upside is that he gets stuck less, but it’s a very small upside.
With one week to go, tension is high, nerves are frazzled and neither Nikaido nor Senga can sleep. They’re curled up on one futon because they’ve been shushed for talking too loudly by everyone else, even if Nikaido thinks Miyata and Tamamori wouldn’t’ve actually been able to hear if they were or not.
The skin on his forearms tingles where Senga’s fingertips brush patterns onto it, and it’s the first time Nikaido has felt genuinely relaxed.
“How did you get your power?” Senga whispers after a pause of comfortable silence. It’s a question neither of them has felt the need to ask before, in fact, Nikaido doesn’t think Senga has asked anything about his power before, or any of the others.
It’s not one he has trouble answering though, not like Fujigaya or Miyata, though Nikaido still isn’t entirely sure what Miyata’s story is.
“I was born with it,” Nikaido replies, rolling on to his back to stare into the darkness. “My grandfather signed himself up for the DNA altering experiment things, back when they first started, but the mutated code didn’t manifest itself in him or my father.”
“But it did in you?”
“Yeah, though my parents didn’t realise until I was about three or four, when they found me as a baby rabbit in my bed once and freaked out. I’ve never really been able to control this thing that much.”
Senga makes a noise of understanding and nuzzles his face further into the pillow. “What about the others?”
“They all have their own stories, you can ask them tomorrow, or after training finishes might be better, but as far as I know Watta, Mitsu and Tama were all born with theirs. Miyata has a story only Tama knows, and Taipi’s is quite sad.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I don’t know the specifics, but his original power was leeched and replaced with the one he has now. He says he still has some traces of his old one too, but he’s never told us what it was because he thinks it will be awkward.”
“Oh,” Senga replies, and Nikaido can hear the sleepiness in his voice.
“I think Watta knows what it is, but he knows everything.” Nikaido chuckles a bit, “What about you.”
Senga yawns. “I was given it. In kindergarten, a man with a lot of bodyguards appeared one day, picked five of us out of the group and said we needed an injection. The teachers were wary but ultimately let them do it.”
“I’m sorry,” Nikaido whispers, and he gives the hand Senga has been drawing on his skin with a little squeeze. No child should have the burden of powers forced on them.
“Don’t be. I didn’t do too badly out of it. I definitely wouldn’t change it for anything now.” Senga gives his hand a little squeeze back. “Stop thinking and sleep, Nika-chan.”
“Mm. Good night, Kenpi.” Nikaido smiles, before falling into a world of dreams where everything is different.
On the last day of training, they stage a mini-mission and it doesn’t fail too badly. In fact, Nikaido would go as far as to say it went quite well. Though when they return to the apartment, there’s a little manila envelope sitting on the table. All seven of them stand and stare at it like it’s going to explode if they even breathe near it.
“I don’t get it,” Fujigaya starts, fingers gingerly picking up the envelope by the corners, “Don’t we have to take part in the trials for them to reject us?”
The other six nod, and Nikaido feels his stomach drop as he thinks of all the work they’ve put in. All the hours and hours and hours of work. There’s a sniffle to his left, and he catches Tamamori trying to discreetly school his face into something that does not look like a kicked puppy. On his right, he feels Senga’s fingers curl into his bicep. Yokoo hovers over Fujigaya’s shoulder, staring intently.
Kitayama yawns and snatches it out of Fujigaya’s hands.
“Hey! I was going to open that!”
“Too slow!” Kitayama drawls as he thumbs the envelope open. A slip of paper flutters out and lands, incredibly, type-up on the table.
Congratu la tions ♥
You are now part of the league for Summer Season ♥
“I don’t get it.” Fujigaya says, raising one eyebrow sceptically. “Don’t we have to take part in the trails for them to accept us?”