Chapter Text
Eden’s Garden Academy is a prestigious, renowned university – it is one of few in the world that accepts only students who are Ultimates. There are not many schools dedicated to cultivating Ultimate talent and allowing it to flourish – after all, every Ultimate starts their life without the label of their talent. It is the Ultimate Talent Program that decides who is worthy of their talent.
And, as it turns out, he was the most worthy. Damon Maitsu, the one that no one would suspect, was the Ultimate Matchmaker. He does not have the personality of a stereotypical matchmaker that one would see on reality television or in cramped booths dishing out vague advice for profit. Damon was aloof and off-putting, his demeanor akin to biting into a lemon and thinking it would be sweet, but instead it is poisonous. His attire is bland and modest; the most interesting item he wears is a green tie adorning a slithering snake. He does not engage in small-talk, and he tends to isolate himself. He has barely any friends and he does not speak about his family. More importantly, a title such as his creates the assumption he has a partner of his own.
But if he had a partner himself, he would not be as focused on honing his talent. Someone could snatch his talent away in the blink of an eye, and it could be someone with a more likeable personality than him. He doesn’t hate himself, nor does he believe his abilities are lesser, but he remains realistic. So, he prefers to keep to himself and speak with others only when necessary.
Damon should have known this would not last long when he planned to attend a school entirely composed of fellow talented students.
Damon entered an auditorium of students, divided by their homeroom. There didn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason behind it, since it appeared there were a variety of ages and talents mixed together. He observed his tablet, scrolling down the list of students in his homeroom and noting the basic information provided to “get to know them ahead of time!” Damon couldn’t resist in the end, his temptation too strong to analyze potential compatibility of his peers. His green eyes flicker as he studies the contents of each student’s biography, frowning when he swipes to his own. Damon rolls his eyes. Did they even try to research me? The information provided was surface-level garbage. Who cares about exact weight and height? Well, height matters for some people… Damon recalls several successful couples who enjoyed the significant height difference. It’s not necessarily a preference of his own, but he supposes it isn’t the worst thing to focus on in relation to appearance-based attraction.
Looking up, Damon notices everyone in the crowded section is chatting except for one individual. She stands near the back, like him, but as close to the exit as possible. Her dark, feathery hair (he took a second to note there is actually a feather in her hair – interesting style choice…) is a shield to protect herself. Her expression is blank but her eyes are cloudy and distant, surveying the scene before her like a vine clinging to the wall of a rose garden. But something about her seems more calculated than at first glance. A glance that meets his own, and her chin lifts slightly, her lips pursuing. An expression that reads, I doubt you will come over here and acknowledge this silent exchange.
Not one to back down from being presented with a challenge, Damon squeezes past soon-to-be classmates as casually as he can muster, heading in the woman’s direction. She looks down, then up to meet his gaze again, and says, “Strange.”
Damon frowns and crosses his arms. “A hello would have sufficed.”
“Hello,” she says. Her eyes are beady, no longer clouded, and he sees a crow flapping its wings as it lands on its perch, jostling some loose straw from the scarecrow’s face. “Eva Tsunaka, the Ultimate Blacksmith.” Her hand extends – it is calloused and stronger than he would have imagined for a girl of smaller physique. Damon keeps his hands crossed, and Eva drops her hand, her eyes downcast.
“...”
Damon stays silent as well, waiting for her next question… that never came.
“...”
“Aren’t you going to ask my name and talent?” Damon asks in a controlled tone, guiding the conversation in the correct direction rather than crashing over the side of a cliff. Some things are painfully humorous to witness but more painful to actively be a part of.
Eva blinks, then shrugs. “I read about you, duh. That’s why I said ‘strange’ – you seem like you drive people away rather than pair them.” Her lips quirk upward for a split second, then her face returns to its blank canvas. “I suppose I can’t judge. You seemed surprised when I said I was a blacksmith.”
With your level of conversational and interpersonal skills, it doesn’t surprise me that you picked a solitary activity. Damon keeps this thought to himself, preferring to not cause a scene so early in his college career.
“You don’t strike me as the type to do heavy-lifting,” he says instead, unable to help a slight smirk from emerging. Eva looks amused rather than angry, the opposite effect than he intended.
“My abs are top secret,” she replies, the twinkle in her eyes conveying it is a joke but the delivery was flat. She hurries along, guiding the conversation in a different direction before Damon could respond. “Everyone seems to have branched off already into pairs and groups… Guess you are stuck with me for now, Damon.”
Huh, she really did read my profile. Embarrassing. Damon surveys the room as well, noting she is correct and they don’t seem too focused on mingling with the others, except…
His eyes lock onto another man’s, who is openly staring at him. That stare is surrounded by… glittery eyeshadow? Is that mascara too? The man’s fingers reflexively smooth over some sort of pendant hanging from his neck and the other hand he puts in his pocket. The person he was conversing with, a woman with magenta hair and sporting a cheerful smile, stops talking mid-sentence and allows her gaze to follow the man’s, in the direction of Damon and Eva.
“Or not,” Eva mutters, tensing, as the two travel toward them – well, as much as could be expected with the woman practically dragging the man over, and he was looking anywhere but Damon now.
“Hello! I’m Diana Venicia!” The woman flashes an animated smile, using her free hand to display a peace sign. “I’m the Ultimate Music Producer.” She glances over at the man, then tilts her head to the side and giggles. The man jabs her with his elbow, whispering in a low hiss in her ear. Now that he is closer, Damon notices a faint blush on his cheeks – he can’t tell if it’s synthetic or the real thing. And, narrowing his eyes, shimmering lip-gloss.
Those lips move, the gloss creating a thin, sticky thread before separating as he introduces himself, “I’m Kai Monteago, Ultimate Cosmetologist.” He sticks out his hand, nervously laughing. “Sorry I was staring you down, dude. I recognized you from a magazine, so I had to confirm it on my tablet and then I still couldn’t believe it was you! You don’t recognize me?”
Damon looks down at the extended hand, then back up at Kai, then over at Eva (she rolls her eyes in response but stays quiet – traitor!), before giving him a judgmental stare. “Am I supposed to?”
“Ouch, my heart,” Kai whines, clutching his chest dramatically as his eyes well up with unshed tears.
Diana gasps, her hands both reaching up to cradle her yellow headphones. She raises her lilted voice, scolding him in the politest way: “Hey, that’s not very nice!”
Damon observes the familiar dynamic between Diana and Kai. This isn’t romantic compatibility he is sensing, but rather an established platonic relationship. They must have met prior to this orientation.
Eva interjects, “I think our conversation is done... Nice meeting you, Damon.” She skulks away as soon as his name leaves her lips, and Damon can’t help but feel she fed him to the wolves. Not that Kai and Diana were intimidating by any means, but she could have been another person to offset the awkward interaction that he wanted nothing to do with.
“We didn’t mean to interrupt something important,” Diana says apologetically, watching Eva leave as well, “Or make you both uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”
“I’m fine.” Damon’s lip curls, quashing the feeling. It’s more uncomfortable having his emotions pointed out so carefree by a stranger. “Anything else?”
Kai looks dejected, opening his mouth to speak, then closing it, then — “You really don’t know about me?” Damon can’t believe the pathetic whine that emits from this grown man, and he begins to worry about how the rest of his peers will act if these two are anything to go by.
“…” Damon stays quiet for a moment, staring at him unblinkingly, before stating, “Your talent is a dime a dozen. There are plenty of cosmetologists. Does that make sense now why I haven’t heard of you?”
Indignant, Kai shouts childishly, “If there’s more competition that means my talent is better than yours!” Kai scowls at him, his eyes narrowing before he continues to rant, “I heard how much of an asshole you were and — and I’m surprised the Internet was right for once! No way did I think an ultimate matchmaker of all things would be such a dick.”
Diana looks between the two of them, holding Kai’s hand and whispering something in his ear. Kai is as jittery as an angry chihuahua, looking ready to continue this back-and-forth until he loses his voice or Damon forfeits. Judging by how all his peers are looking over at them, he knows he needs to press the eject button to this conversation.
Damon feels heat crawl across his pale features. “Are you done?” He takes advantage of Diana and Kai’s stunned silence, then adds stiffly, “See you both later,” as he leaves to take a bathroom break.
Diana chides to Kai, “You didn’t have to say all of that.”
“Bet you were thinking it too,” Kai defends himself, but can’t help loosening up his tense shoulders now that it’s just her and him again. “I really gotta say, I was not expecting him to be that bad.”
“Maybe he had a bad morning?” Diana says, her optimistic statement trailing into a vague question. Kai rolls his eyes at her, a smile growing. At least he’s got Diana to always be positive. But he can’t help but feel disappointed about the situation — he’ll never get to convince the Ultimate Matchmaker to do a brand deal with him now. Maybe the Ultimate Influencer is the better option… As Kai searches for the influencer in the crowd, he frowns, pushing away the intrusive thought of holding Damon’s jaw as he applies the final strokes of eyeshadow.
Damon presses the button to the water fountain, sipping water as far away from the spout as possible. He really should have brought his water bottle. Or, better yet, something to do with his time and to make him look unapproachable. He thought he gave that vibe but talking with Eva was a mistake. It made the others want to greet him too. Can’t people just let him observe from afar? It’s easier to utilize his talent by subtly pushing others in the direction of their ideal partner or greatest friend. Getting too involved causes bias, and unwanted emotions. Stay focused and do what you came here for — to hone your talent, Damon reflects, and developing relationships between Ultimates, who are volatile and unpredictable, is the greatest challenge for you to undertake.
Damon scowls, thinking of a certain pink-haired man who made a huge scene in front of everyone. He has to put some effort into maintaining a decent reputation, and that egotistical cosmetologist with his music producer friend won’t ruin this opportunity for him.