daybreakacademy

Entry tags:

[open]

Who: Kano & OTA
What: magic practice, pettiness, finals
Where: Lumière, greenhouse, library
When: mid-month, before finals
Warnings: self-harm for prompt i., none expected for the rest
Notes: details of Kano's new Fey Contract can be found on his app

i. Lumière dormitory rooftop
[ Fey magic is a really... terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea. But Kano is determined to make it work, this new Contract that he'd forged a couple of days ago, but it's just so different from his usual illusion magic that he'd worked ten whole years to get to the point where he is now, illusions seamless and effortless compared to him staring at his arm right now wondering what he's doing wrong?

Because his arm is bleeding, a bloody knife on his lap while he pokes at the wound with his other hand and it just comes back bloody, him wincing because it hurts and why isn't the magic working? There's nothing intuitive about this at all, and he has no idea how he's supposed to make it work, with the magic supposed to be healing and dulling pain but it's just doing the opposite for him, the pain making it hard to keep a smile on his face, and making him feel like crying a little.

With a sigh, he waves hand over the bleeding cut instead of touching it, and it disappears— simply masked underneath an illusion, but it's still there while he tries to figure out how to do this, preferably before he bleeds out.

It won't come to it, though. He has three years worth of band-aids stocked up, and he knew they would be useful someday. ]

ii. campus, on the way to the greenhouse or inside
[ But you know what always makes up for terrible days? Even more terrible ideas to get your mind off previous ones. This one isn't that bad, though, because it's something that'll have positive long-term consequences. Probably.

Anyways, it's Kano with long sleeves and pants and winter gloves and the hood of his jacket pulled over his head and eyes and also a bandanna over the rest of his face so he can have as little skin showing as possible. It isn't all because of botched healing practice, though, it's because he's lugging around a three gallon plastic jug in his arms— you know, one of those large plastic containers twice the size of your head that you can buy cheese balls in, but instead of cheese balls, it's bees.

It's a jar full of bees.

He had to ship them to a PO in town and then lug them all the way back to campus; this insect purchasing restriction is really an awful pain. ]

iii. library
[ But also, anyways, it's almost finals and while Kano did surprisingly okay on his midterms, he's got to do slightly more okay on his finals too, because exam scored are literally all that's carrying his grades without the homework to pad it.

So the library it is... Books, his arch nemesis... Him, sitting at one of the open study areas with a stack of brand new text books in front of him that barely look touched, a mug of something on the table that's a dark dark red to the point that it's almost black and also has four tea bags sitting inside it that's steeped so long the tea is no longer steaming, and also hands clamped over his ears like he's trying to block out ambient noise, or massage away a headache, or give himself a headache so he can go hang out in the infirmary for the next two weeks and not do finals.

Why does Daybreak have to be a school??? Schools suck. ]

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[...Yeah. The hot squish of fabric distracts him a second, but his eyes flick back up in an instant, and the one following that has him letting go. He got what he needed. More than that.]

Change of plans, cricket. Bees can be released later, we're going to my room.

[His tone is low and firm as he instinctively wipes his hand on his pants even if Kano's illusion masks the blood there as well, but it lacks a dangerous edge. As much as it isn't a threat, it also isn't up something that's up for debate.]

[ Every fiber of his being wants to protest, but those same fibers are also screaming that if he doesn't listen, Maverick could just grab his arm again and force him to, old memories floating back of how how obedient he used to be, stepping in line at the first sign of a raised hand or furrowed brow, and he hunches his shoulders into a shrug and tilt of the head for Maverick to lead the way- not that Kano doesn't know where to go, but with Maverick in front, he won't look at his face. ]

[He pauses for a moment, not wanting to turn his back on Kano and give him the chance to bolt, but...it wasn't like the other would be able to dodge him forever, and he'd like to think there's enough there that other...wouldn't. Having his trust would be nice, but he knows how big of an ask that can be. Maybe it's for the best that he show some trust of his own, first.

It makes him want to throw up just considering it, and uncertainty flashes across his face in the moment before he starts to head off...but he still slips his hands into his hoodie pockets and carefully slides his folded knife out so that it clatters to the ground behind him.]

[ He was doing so good, telling himself that everything will be okay if he just listens to Maverick and not make a fuss, but then that knife comes out and before he can help himself, Kano takes two large steps to the side, because that could not have been not on purpose. ]

Hey, Mav! You dropped something!

[Ugh. His insides twist together even harder, but he forces a slow breath so his voice can remain even. Not worried about not having his knife on him as a safety net, not worried about why Kano was bleeding and what it could mean, not worried about the immediate reaction the other boy had had. He glances behind himself, making it clear that he sees the knife before he shrugs it off.]

You've already got some of my stuff. Uh... Carry it for me, will you?

[ Ugh... It has to be on purpose, but he refuses to push it; if he just does what he's told, he won't have to explain anything, so he settles his face back to neutrality and picks the knife up in his hand, careful not to show any signs of shaking hands or hesitancy in touching the knife. Fuck knives, honestly.

He straightens up and sticks it in his pocket and Maverick is never getting this back either. ]

[Everything is awful in so many ways...but at least by the time they're back at the dorm, Mav has his breathing under control and is busy kicking himself wondering what the heck he's even going to say.

Instead of saying anything, once he's in his room and ensuring that Akechi isn't hanging around, he kicks off his shoes, slips off the hoodie, and wanders off to a cardboard box he still has next to his desk while giving a careless wave to his bed.]

Sit. Uh, the bees can chill with this asshole's ant farm, if you want.

[Where...is it... Okay. Out from the box comes the same first aid kit Kano had given to him on the daemon mission, though it's a little bit lighter, as well as some of his other supplies. Lastly, he grabs a packet of hot chocolate and offers it out. Have at it, cricket.]

[ The entire way here, Kano's not really sure what to expect, feet trudging more and more by the time they reach the dormitory— he could so easily slip inside his own room that they pass by and bar the door and refuse to come out, but the opportunity passes and they're inside Maverick's room and... Maverick's not immediately locking the door and yelling at him and Kano just stands there a little confused.

Maverick just looks like he's coming home and means to stay home, and Kano warily sits down at the corner of the bed and hugs the bees to his chest like it can protect him in some way, the buzzing in the jar matching the buzzing in his head and skin and existence.

He takes the packet of hot chocolate, but instead of asking for a cup of hot water to reconstitute it properly, or tearing it open and sprinkling it dry in his mouth, it goes into his pocket, not to come out again. ]

[Well. At least he'd taken it. Better than nothing. With a sigh, Mav plops himself down towards the head of the bed, giving Kano ample space but keeping him within reach, if he tries. Ideally the gap will close naturally...but there's nothing natural about any of this, is there? He pops the kit open, flicking through various supplies without giving Kano another look.]

Let's see it. Whatever's open. [Nothing else, for now. He can give him that.]

[ There's absolutely nothing natural about it, and Kano shifts a little away from Maverick when he's got that med kit open, dread creeping up from the base of his skull that tells him that he shouldn't hide his arm —but also that he can't count on Maverick to be like Minako and Ellie were to him, somebody who would help patch him up and maybe tell him off for getting himself hurt, but not ask too much about whys and what happeneds.

Even now, he just really wants to hide it, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt (and bleeding a little on Maverick's bed, sorry, restricting his upper arm might not have been the smartest idea) and, at the last minute, changes the shape of the wound so that it looks smaller and more like an accidental stab than what's very clearly the long, neat line of somebody dragging a blade over their own arm. ]

Here, I'll trade you the bees. I can do it myself.

[ At least the whole bandaging thing, so long as he has the proper materials for it— it's a little harder to get these, though, more than asking Ekkehardt for something innocuous as bandaids— is something he's learned how to do and is accustomed to. ]

Fuck off.

[He's not nursing material, or anything, but he's had enough experience patching up his own scrapes and taking care of new, healing piercings and tattoos that he's confident he can handle this much. Besides...it would be easier with two hands.]

Unfun part, first, cricket. Let's get it cleaned. Might sting, but that's less of a bitch than that shit getting infected.

[A warning seems...best. Never knew what was obvious to this idiot, really. Heeere comes the antiseptic...]

You fuck—- OFF!! [ UGH.

FUCKING shit stupid magic school can't make an antiseptic that doesn't sting like all hell, his piece of shit illusion magic not working when he's too busy trying not to scream his head off and the wound opens up to its original deep long weeping cut, all along his arm those faint signs of old wounds that never healed right, that don't go away even after he smacks that antiseptic wipe away and yanks his arm back and clamps his hand down on that cut, because fucking work, Fey magic, why isn't it working the way it's supposed to do, the one time he needs to feel absolutely nothing, not the burning of his arm or the burning behind his eyes that drop his gaze to the mattress and blurs, especially not the burning at the back of his mind that edges on full blown panic in the context of his strongest defense mechanism being broken down in front of him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should have gone to Avery. Avery doesn't ask questions, he doesn't care. ]

[In different circumstances -- if Kano was acting out of pure pride instead of panic -- this might have been funny, or he might have been able to laugh it off to separate himself from that feeling of icy fingers closing around his throat and making it hard to breathe again. Closing his eyes, he forces a slow, full inhale, and holds it. Methods he fucking hated and trashed all through the previous years because he was already breathing and it didn't do shit, and he was fucking fine anyway, fuck off, but in the privacy of his own room, next to...a friend... Okay.

He folds a strip of gauze and holds it out. Hold this against the cut instead, stupid. ...Ah, That was meant to be said out loud. Oh well. Hopefully Kano gets the idea without condescending instruction.]

[ He would have preferred being made fun of, in all honesty, more than silence and unreadable thoughts and uncertain gestures like this piece of gauze that Maverick hands to him and he takes, also digging out a handful of bandaids from his own pockets and uses his hand and teeth to tear open a couple and slap them down on the edges of the gauze like pieces of tape, and then he rolls down his sleeves.

Jumps to his feet, grabs his jar of bees, and forces himself to smile with his own facial muscles instead of with an illusion. ]

Alright! Thanks for the help. I'm going to go now.

[ His voice, when it's not being artificially cheerful, is quiet and weak but whatever. He's going to run away. ]

[ -- does he really think]

Sit. Your ass. Down. Cricket.

[He's got this whole damn kit out and started getting things prepared, and this stupid jerkface thinks he can slap shitty bandaids on it and call it a day?]

No wonder you've never fucking healed properly... [It's more of a grumble than anything, but he's moved to the edge of the bed to show that if Kano tries to leave, he's getting hunted down. He had been trying!!!! to be nice!! and now that was ruined, ugh, but he'd been messing with a short fuse.] Would you just stop being a dumbass for ten fucking minutes?

I'll stop being a dumbass for five, final offer.

[ He doesn't want to be here any longer than that, plopping down on Maverick's chair instead of the bed so he can kick off the floor and spin it around. How's a kid supposed to know proper wound care anyways, more than washing something with water and blotting it off with a towel and then slapping thirty bandaids over it. ]

This one, it's not a big deal! You're making a big deal out of it, Mav, and you don't have to! I've had worse!

[Ugh. Fine. Up Mav goes, too, dropping his supplies onto his desk instead before hopping on up there himself. He shoves a leg under one of the chair's arms to lock it in place and tug Kano closer to him again.]

Doesn't fucking matter. You got me most of this shit, I'll use it how I fucking want, and what I fucking want is to get you to stop bleeding all over the damn place and make it not so damn obvious this wasn't a fucking accident. Now can I do that?

You have four minutes and seventeen seconds to do whatever the hell you want.

[ If his brick phone were capable of having a stopwatch function, he'd be whipping it out right now. But it doesn't so he's just being dismissive, not wanting to say anything about whether or not this was an accident, and refusing to touch upon that at all.

Maverick gets his arm, which he offers absolutely no help in rolling the sleeve back and removing all those bandaids that's getting wasted because they're bloody and wet and not sticking properly anyways, while Kano rolls himself a little closer to the desk so he can half-flop himself on top of it and poke at his jar of bees. It's real temping to unscrew the top right about now. It'll be his last resort. ]

[He works efficiently, using the time he's given to get Kano free of blood again, pad the wound, bandage it up and get it nice and secure. No bandaids to be found.]

Not too tight?

[He gives a light push around the bandage, testing to see if it slides, or cutting in too deep.]

[ Kano wrinkles his nose and grits his teeth when Maverick prods at it, expecting it to hurt more than it does when it's properly bound up instead of barely held together- or not at all, like it was before. ]

It's fine... You should quit your day job and go be a nurse with Hieke. Hook me up with some more of these baidaids~

[The very idea of it makes him grimace again. Studying under a daemon... Yeah fucking right.]

It's just basic shit. Amazing how effective it can be when you're giving a fuck about the fix instead of pretending the problem away.

[ Kano heaves a shrug, because hey, ever since he was little, all he had to do was slap a bandaid on things and he never got septic and died, so he likes to believe he's doing well for himself. ]

The human body's an amazing thing- it can heal all sorts of stuff by itself...

[ He glances down at the bandaging job, and makes it disappear in a blink to leave smooth unbroken skin before rolling down his sleeves again, hiding the blood soaked through the cloth too. Unfortunately, there's nothing he can do about Maverick's bed, but he can use whatever's left of the 130 euros to buy new sheets for the second time in two months. ]

But I'm going to stop you there: I'm going to say "thank you" and I'll leave you with an IOU as payment, and then I'm going to go release these bees.

[If someone asks about the bed blood, he'll flatly tell them he got his period, followed by the suggestion for them to fuck off. It's fine. Blood is a lot better than cricket-banana spit, in this instance... Much as he hates these circumstances, too.]

...What, am I cut out of getting to release the bees because I fucking patched you up? Fuck that. You still got my shit, anyway.

That's right, you're not allowed to come to the bee releasing ceremony! This is your punishment for patching me up~ But you can use your IOU on either bees or your shit, your choice~

[ As if he can stop Maverick from coming anyways, hopping off the chair and grabbing his jar to tuck under his good arm.

...But if Maverick insists on coming... ]

Hey, do you have anymore alcohol? The cleaning kind, not the drinking kind?

[Urgh... Unfortunately, if it's between the bees and his things...]

Book, notes, and knife, cricket. Cough 'em up.

[And gosh, he almost looks disappointed... Maybe disappointed combined with apprehensive? Until that question, which has him narrowing his eyes in suspicion.]

...I do. Why?

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