Chapter Text
RUN
Chapter 1
A pair of white sneakers pounded on the tiled floor, skidding momentarily in order to fly around the corner, before racing through the locker room. Students left and right were shoved aside as the human storm desperately tried to get as far as he could, as fast as he could. He ignored the angry cries of his fellow students who lost their balance as he tore through them, nor the backpacks that were bumped off their shoulders. There was no time to waste. If he hesitated for only one millisecond, he’d get caught. He could already feel the daunting presence closing in on him. The loud thuds of black leather boots weren’t far behind. They belonged to a boy much taller than him. Much stronger than him. Much quicker than him.
The smaller of the two kept pushing forward, his legs burning as he stumbled once or twice. He had to keep going. If the other kid would get his hands on him…
Unfortunately for him, that’s exactly what happened.
Large, powerful hands grabbed a hold of his jacket, and pulled, hard. There was no time to resist as his body was slung backwards, like a puppet on a string. Without warning, he was shoved against the lockers behind him, muscular arms pinning him in place. He didn’t dare to look up at towering form that hung over him, panting and growling in his face like a rapid dog.
The students around them scrambled off, not wanting to get into harm’s way. Some of them contemplated pulling out their phones to record some first-class social media content, but decided against it. Even they deemed the situation too serious.
With all the students gone, a heavy silence settled over the locker room. None of the boys said anything. They were too busy catching their breaths, as well as dealing with an intense peak of emotion.
For the small one, it was terror.
For the bigger one, it was rage.
The silence was soon broken by a third pair of shoes, high heels by the sound of it, stomping over in obvious haste.
“ANSHIN! Let go of him!!” Boomed a stern woman’s voice. A very angry woman’s voice.
The muscular boy growled loudly, turning a fierce glare towards the advancing teacher. “Stay out of this! This has nothing to do with you!”
“Don’t you dare talk back to me like that, young man!” The teacher fumed. “As you’re both students in this school, this has everything to do with me! Now, don’t make me say it again; let Isamu go!”
The bulky kid gave the boy one last shove before releasing him. The smaller boy, Isamu, nervously backed away, tugging his jacket back in his rightful place. The teacher gave him a quick glance over to see if he was okay. She knew the smaller boy wasn’t entirely without blame; he was a well-known trouble-maker in his own right. For one, he liked to pick on animals, which went against everything Anshin stood for. She suspected it was one of those days.
The teacher addressed the smaller of the two with a stern look. “Go home, Isamu. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
The kid didn’t need to be told twice, and he was off.
The teacher took a deep breath before turning towards the older kid, who, to her quiet amazement, was actually taller than her. The two glared at each other for a minute or so, before the teacher spoke the four magic words the boy heard on a daily basis.
“Anshin. Principle’s office. Now.”
Tyson Kinomiya blinked slowly. It did little to clear his vision, but at least it kept his eyes from drying out. In front of him were rows of hunched over teenagers, scribbling away at their desks. The longer he stared at them, the more they morphed into hazy blobs of color.
Tyson used to believe that sitting behind a teacher's desk would be an improvement from sitting behind a student's desk. Less boring. Less tiring.
Oh, how wrong he was.
The tall, dark-haired man struggled to hide the yawn that escaped his mouth, receiving a judgmental look from the young lady sitting in the front row.
"Eyes on the test, Sakura." Tyson ordered in a soft voice as to not disturb the rest of the class. The young lady rolled her eyes at him before scribbling on.
Tyson scoffed back at her. Her attitude reminded him of a certain female he used to share a class with. A certain brunette who had made it her personal mission to challenge every breath he took. Hilary Tachibana certainly had her… charms. Dealing with her had become a daily habit that dragged him all throughout his high school years and beyond. Later in life, Hilary became a nurse, and he became a teacher at the very same school where they first met. Despite their clash in personalities, they always kept in touch. They became close, even. And then they married, and had a kid together. Because, why the hell not?
A soft knock on the classroom door jerked Tyson out his daydreams. Giving the students a quick look to ensure they wouldn’t peek at each other’s test papers, the 34-year-old teacher strolled towards the Japanese-styled door and slid it open. The school’s principle waited for him on the other side, wearing a dark look on his face.
Tyson sighed, already having a hunch what this was about. “Anshin Kurata?”
The principle nodded sternly. “Anshin Kurata.”
Tyson looked away for a moment, munching on his bottom lip in thought. He then spoke softly, “I’m in the middle of a test, can’t you take care of it for me?”
The principle shook his head. “Afraid not. Besides, he’s your student, Mr. Kinomiya.”
Tyson huffed. “He’s not my student. He’s just in my homeroom class. That doesn’t make him my responsibility.” He kept his voice low as to not disturb the students behind him. Or fuel some new rumors about the troublemaker everyone loved to gossip about.
“Well, he is your responsibility… a little bit…” The principle argued, before softly adding, “… besides, you and I both know his parents aren’t going to step in and do something about it.”
Tyson sighed through his nose. He knew what the principle meant, unfortunately. The boy’s parents were about as annoying as the kid. They never answered the phone, never responded to letters, and refused to attend any of the parent-teacher meetings. If anyone needed a firm conversation about their kid’s behavior, it was the Kurata family.
Tyson sighed again, before mumbling unhappily, “Send him in here after class, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Tyson closed the door and resumed his position behind his desk. It didn’t take long for his thoughts to drift towards his problem student, which had become a daily habit at this point.
Anshin Kurata was a trouble maker. A rude prick who seemed to believe he owned the school and everyone in it. When Tyson was first introduced to Anshin, he worried the boy had a big target on his back for the school’s bullies. The kid was quiet and… well, weird. He didn’t mingle with the other kids, and preferred to spend his lunch break in complete solitude. Sometimes he would read a book, other times he’d lean against a wall and glare at everyone who came too close.
Despite his weird behavior, no one picked on him. They didn’t dare. In fact, the bullies cowered away in fear whenever Anshin entered their vision. Let’s say Anshin had… anger management issues. He’d often get into trouble with both students and teachers; bad-mouthing them or, even worse, expressing his anger physically.
Obviously, there was something wrong with the kid. Many people tried to have a heart-to-heart with him, but all it did was push him farther away. He didn’t want to talk, he just… wanted to destroy. That’s how it seemed, anyway.
Tyson was tired of the not-so-little shit, to put it mildly.
The more the day dragged on, the more Tyson dreaded the end of it. He would, once again, have to reason with the most unreasonable human in the building. What on earth could he possibly say that hadn’t already been said?
Tyson had tried numerous different approaches in the past. He attempted to be the stern teacher who tried to talk some sense into the boy, the gentle teacher who would try to create a safe space for him to talk about his feelings, the worried teacher who tried to get him to see people actually cared about his future. He even attempted to be an indifferent teacher who didn’t give a rat’s ass about the boy’s behavior… But none of it actually worked. Despite his different approaches, Anshin would always react the same; either he would give the irritatingly effective silent treatment, or he would scream and throw furniture around. At some point, the police even had to be involved.
Whatever the boy’s problem was, it needed to be addressed.
Speak of the Devil…
“You wanted to see me, sir.” The delivery was monotone, and despite the polite choice of words, nothing about it felt polite.
Tyson glanced up from his desk, beckoning the shadow sulking in the hallway inside. “Come in, Anshin. Please have a seat.” The dark-haired teacher slowly rose from his chair, as the boy trudged in, threw his backpack on one of the empty tables, and slumped into the seat behind it.
Mentally preparing himself, Tyson sat himself down on the edge of his own desk. Folding his hands on his lap, he tried to look as calm and non-threatening as he could. “… Anshin, I’ve received word that you attacked another student this morning.”
Anshin’s eyes narrowed at the older man, but his lips remained sealed.
Tyson waited for a minute or two, but when the boy made no attempt to speak, he continued. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Anshin made a slight snorting sound through his nose, and crossed his muscular arms defensively.
The silent treatment it is.
Tyson sighed. “You can’t just go around and attack other people when it suits you, Anshin. That’s not how the world works.”
Anshin shifted in his chair, tightening his arms ever so slightly. He subjected his teacher with a sharp gaze, before biting out, “Then how does it work?”
Tyson blinked, not expecting a response like that. He needed a couple of seconds to think of a smart reply, but found he couldn’t. Not really. “Well… it’s just… It’s just wrong to hurt people.”
The subtle side-smirk on Anshin’s face told Tyson his answer wasn’t good enough.
Tyson ignored it. “Let me ask you again; why did you go after Isamu this morning?”
“Does it really matter why?” Anshin challenged stubbornly. “After all, what’s done is done, right?”
Tyson frowned at him disapprovingly. “We don’t want it to happen again, that’s why I want to know what happened.”
Anshin raised a skeptical eyebrow. “So it can be prevented next time?”
“Exactly.”
“Yeah, well. Good luck with that.” Anshin replied bluntly.
Tyson felt a headache blossom in the front of his skull. This kid… honestly…
The frustrated teacher took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. The kid was rattling him on purpose, he knew that. He needed to make sure he was the bigger person here.
Anshin had turned his head to glance out of the window. He looked bored, and not at all concerned about the consequences of his actions. That changed however, when Tyson casually spoke, “I want to have a word with your parents.”
Anshin’s furious head whipped towards his teacher. “No.”
“No?” Tyson challenged with a raised eyebrow. “Anshin, this can’t go on any longer. Do you know how many strings I have to pull to not get you expelled permanently?”
“So??!” Anshin shot upright in his seat, his hands clenching around his bag. “Why should I even care about this place?! It’s not like anyone gives a shit!”
Tyson jumped ever so slightly by the unexpected outburst. He was about to scold his student for his language, but decided not to. There was something more important he wanted to communicate.
“Of course we give a shit.”
“Oh come on.” Anshin rolled his eyes. “None of you teachers give a crap about people like us.”
“People like you?”
Anshin growled. “You know what I mean. The low grades. The troublemakers. You guys can’t wait to get rid of us.”
“That’s not true.” Tyson responded quickly.
“Of course it is. You think I’m stupid and don’t notice stuff like that?”
Both males made intense eye-contact for a while, before Tyson softly said, “Anshin… I just want to know if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. Can I go now?” Without awaiting a response, Anshin heaved his torn backpack over his shoulder and was already halfway out the door.
Tyson jumped from his desk in surprise. “H-hey! I wasn’t done yet!”
The cold look Anshin shot him made Tyson freeze on the spot, but his fleeting words hit much harder.
“Stop pretending to care.”
It was seven in the afternoon when Tyson’s grey sedan finally rolled to a stop on his dojo’s driveway. The man turned off the ignition before collapsing back in his seat, allowing himself to enjoy the silence for a moment.
He felt beat.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat like that, staring into space. At some point, his exhausted gaze floated to the front door of his home. It had opened and his wife stood in the doorway, watching him questionably. Tyson sighed and got out of the car, before giving her a hug and trudging inside.
“Bad day?” Hilary asked him softly. Tyson looked at her, noticing she looked just as tired as he did. “Yeah… Kinda… You?”
Hilary’s lips curled into a sarcastic smile. She hadn’t even taken the effort to change out of her hospital scrubs yet. “Couldn’t be better.”
Tyson huffed out a laugh. “Got ya.”
“Come on, it’s take-out day. Let’s head inside before Makato eats it all.” Hilary took his hand, gently tugging him into the kitchen, where his son was already digging in at the dinner table. The delicious smell of fresh rice and sushi dishes made Tyson feel much better already. He quickly seated himself next to his son, and graciously joined in.
Halfway through their dinner, the thirteen-year-old turned a curious gaze to his father. “Is the scruffy kid in trouble again?”
Tyson paused his chewing, looking just as confused as his wife. “Scruffy kid?”
“Yeah! You know, that weird kid…” Makato didn’t elaborate whom he was referring to, but Tyson had a feeling he knew.
“You mean Anshin?”
“Yeah!”
Tyson frowned. “Is that how you guys call him at school? Scruffy kid?”
“Well, I mean… he is a little scruffy…” Makato muttered.
“That’s not nice.” Hilary scolded.
Makato huffed, “Well, he isn’t nice either!”
“Maybe he’s just lonely. You could try and befriend him, you know?” Hilary gently reprimanded her son, who, in turn, looked at her in horror. Hilary was about to scold him for it, when she noticed her husband’s expression. He looked about as horrified as their son.
“He can’t be that bad.” Hilary tutted at the both of them.
“He is!” Makato screeched. “The kid’s a maniac! He’s always-”
“Now Makato, that’s enough.” Tyson interjected. As much as he agreed with his son, he didn’t want him to talk about his student like that.
Makato scowled at his father, before picking at the last heap of rice on his plate.
After dinner, Makato went to his room to do homework, while Hilary and Tyson took the dishes and cutlery to the kitchen.
“This isn’t the first time Makato brought the… uh… ‘scruffy kid’ up. Is he really that bad?” Hilary casually asked, while scrubbing away at the dishes. Her back was turned to her husband, but Tyson shook his head at her disapprovingly nevertheless.
“His name his Anshin.” He corrected her.
“Right. Anshin. Sorry.”
Tyson sighed as he emptied the trash bin behind her. “I don’t think he’s that bad… He’s just... troubled, I guess.”
Hilary hummed quietly. She sensed there was more her husband had to say about it. And of course, there was.
“He’s just being an idiot.” Tyson started, “He’s a smart kid, but he doesn’t put any effort into his schoolwork. He just goes as he pleases, and will only attend classes if he feels like it, which is rarely the case. And he’s rude. Either he ignores everyone, or picks fights with everyone. He’s cold, grumpy and really really arrogant. Thinks he’s better than anyone. And when you get too close you’ll get your head ripped off. Imagine being the kid’s homeroom teacher. How on earth do you reach a kid like that??”
Hilary started chuckling, her back shaking ever so slightly. Tyson pouted at her, thinking she was making fun of his struggles. “What are you laughing at?”
“Oh I dunnooo…” Hilary drawled playfully, “Guess the kid reminds me of someone we used to know, back in the day…?”
“Oh yeah? Who?”
Hilary paused, before swiveling around in disbelief. “Oh come on!!”
“What??” Tyson was still clueless.
Hilary planted one hand on her hip, while the other gestured wildly to make her point. “The grouchy, arrogant jackass? The strong and silent type that keeps people at a distance? Doesn’t that ring any bells??”
Tyson looked dumbfounded by his wife’s words. “Obviously not…?” He replied, unsure.
“Oh my word!” Hilary needed a moment to pace around the kitchen, before flapping her hands. “Kai!!”
“Wha- Kai…??” Tyson furrowed his eyebrows. “What – No… Noo way. Anshin and Kai are nothing alike.”
“They totally are!” Hilary argued sharply. “Think about it!”
Tyson spluttered for a moment, unable to find the right words. He was thinking about it. He just… couldn’t make the connection. “I don’t think- Kai wasn’t- Honestly, Kai wasn’t that bad.”
“Maybe in his later years he wasn’t, but he used to be pretty difficult, right? I mean, I met him later than you guys did, but I heard plenty of stories and I sure as hell didn’t trust the guy at first!”
Now it was Tyson’s turn to laugh. “Oh yeah! You thought he was a spy!!”
Hilary pouted as her husband folded in half from laughter. “Can you blame me??” She snapped back. “He was so freaking rude to me!!”
“He was rude to anyone!” Tyson replied, still chuckling in good humor.
“My point exactly!”
Tyson’s laughter died down a little. He couldn’t deny his wife’s point there. “Okay… I see where you’re coming from. But I still think Kai was difficult in a different way.”
Hilary leaned back against the kitchen cabinets behind her. “If you say so…”
The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. They watched a movie together, before Makato called it a night. Tyson and Hilary decided to follow suit; the day’s events catching up with them.
Tyson sighed contently as his head landed on his pillow. His eyes remained partially open, studying the ceiling, deep in thought. Hilary climbed in next to him, reading one of her favorite books.
The silence was soothing and welcoming, and Tyson felt sleep pull at his senses. He was about to surrender to it, when Hilary suddenly lowered her book. “Honey?”
“… Yeah…?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
Tyson turned a sleepy gaze to his wife. “About what?”
Hilary stared forward for a moment, her book resting on her stomach. “About your student.”
Tyson blinked himself awake. “Wha-?”
“I was just thinking… Maybe there’s something you can try to get through to him.”
Tyson looked mildly skeptical. “Like what?”
Hilary glanced at him. “What if you’d approach him the same way you did Kai?”
Tyson furrowed his brows. “Huh?”
Hilary scooted closer to him, suddenly excited. “No, hear me out. No matter how many times Kai pushed you away, you always knew how to talk to him. How to get him to open up a little. What if you tried the same with that boy?”
“…” Tyson stared at his wife. “You think I should talk to Anshin like I did to Kai?”
“Yeah!”
“Why?” Tyson felt confused. Maybe it was because he was on the verge of falling asleep or the fact he couldn’t follow his wife’s logic.
“Because they’re the same!” Hilary said animatedly.
“They’re not the same!” Tyson scowled stubbornly, which caused Hilary to slap a hand over her own face.
“Okay fine, have it your way.” She huffed, turning off the lights and turning her back towards her husband.
“Good night…” Tyson mumbled.
“… Night.”