Expect the Unexpected (CHISCARA Highschool AU)

Friends?

The morning was dull and harsh, yet just warm enough for a sweatshirt. Ajax adored this type of weather. The way the sharp chills pooled at the tips of his fingers and ears, ignoring the rest of his body entirely. It reminded him of the days he'd spend during hunting season with his father. Each November, they'd wake at dawn and pack a duffel bag filled with necessities. Food, rifles, pellets, deer lures, you name it. It had always been the thrill and adrenaline that kept Ajax going; his personal motivator in life. Though, since Teucer had been born, he and his father haven't been as close as they used to. He often longs for these days; where it was just him and his dad. Alone against the word.

At the far end of the street stood a figure Ajax couldn't quite make out. This didn't matter to him, as he figured it was most likely Scaramouche. They've always shared a bus stop, but he's never bothered to speak to the boy until now— funnily enough.

"Hey!" The ginger playfully nudged with his elbow. He regretted this decision immediately, as he was met with two piercing eyes. It felt as if he were having his soul sucked from his body. Scaramouche didn't seem to be in a good mood this morning, but when has he ever?

"...What's gotten into you...?" There was a hint of fear in his tone— not enough for Ajax to sense, but he felt it nonetheless. The young boy couldn't for the life of him understand why this was happening. He was so used to being a ghost of a man; merely a shadow whose existence was insignificant to the world. No one had ever paid him any mind— and if they did, it came with a price. So why in Teyvat was somebody like Ajax so interested in speaking to him ?

The taller boy stiffened. The air around them felt tense, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had done something horribly wrong. Just a moment ago, everything seemed fine.

But now it felt as if he poked a sleeping bear with a rather sharp stick. Do I smell? Is that why he doesn't want to speak to me?

"Well— I just figured we could be friends.."

The bus halted to a stop with a deafening shriek. Without even considering a response, Scaramouche disappeared through the open doors and took a seat in the back. Ajax watched in silence for a moment, before following suit. He made his way down the aisle and sat himself next to the midnight-haired boy.

Every muscle Scaramouche's body tightened at once. He looked over at the ginger, this time with gentler eyes. He didn't feel angry, annoyed, or burdened. only confused. The words bounced and echoed around his mind like a taunting child. friends. He wants to be friends . The boy lingered on that thought for some time, before fixing his eyes at the window for the remainder of the ride. Scaramouche watched as the houses and trees flew past, and Ajax did not attempt to speak to him again. He figured it was best to let him be.

It was lunch period once again— though this time, a certain somebody had decided to arrive early.

"Heyy, Ajax! What's goin' on?" They met toward the front of the line, Itto practically yelling into Ajax's ear. The cafeteria was a bustling, crowded mess. This made it especially difficult to hear.

In response, the ginger merely stood there— deep in thought for some time now.

"I've considered your plan."

The conversation carried well into the lunch line, Itto trailing behind Ajax as he grabbed a tray and some fruit.

"My plan?– oh. I see what you mean!" The white-haired boy gnawed at the inside of his cheek, feeling some remorse for suggesting such a scheme. At that moment, it hadn't occurred to him that there would be a 'victim' in this situation. Not until now. All he could do was wonder. "...About that.. I was only jokin' around , y'know?"

At the far end of the cafeteria sat Scaramouche, his nose buried within a large, leather sketchbook. The table was vacant aside from the small boy seated at the edge. This had caught Ajax's full attention as he watched from a distance.

"...Hey, I'm not 'gonna be sitting with you today. sorry, man."

The ginger departed from the line, ignoring any questions which Itto threw at him. He made his way to the far end of the room with long strides, his vision locked into place. He felt like a predator with Scaramouche as his prey— only he had no intentions of harming him. Or so he thought. Ajax set his tray down and took a seat in front of the smaller boy.

Scaramouche's breath hitched in the back of his throat. No one has ever sat at that table for as long as he could remember, so this came as a surprise.

"Hello. it's you again." His eyes trailed up for a short moment to confirm his suspicions. It was most definitely Ajax; that orange hair was hard to miss in a crowd.

Ajax took notice of Scaramouche's interest in art— or at least, that's what he assumed it was. He watched in curiosity as the boy vigorously sketched with a furrowed brow.

"Can I see what you're drawing?" The words escaped from his mouth before he could even think.

The boy's hand came to a halt, his pen still as a bone. He questioned this heavily. A task so trivial as revealing his work to others proved to be much more complicated to the young man. He didn't trust easily, but he figured Ajax wasn't really doing anything wrong. Embarrassing as it was to admit, the thought of someone being interested in his hobbies filled him with excitement . What was there to lose by showing his art?

He placed down the pen and turned his sketchbook over to face the boy across from him. Scaramouche studied his face for any sign of judgment. He's never shown a stranger his work before, so he was quite eager to know what was going on behind Ajax's mind.

As the ginger laid eyes on the drawing, his jaw nearly fell to the table. It was a beautiful sketch of a mosaic beetle, compiled of abstract shapes and cross hatching. The violet ink seemed as though you were staring directly into the night sky. It was as if Scaramouche had put the insect beneath a microscope and fine-tuned every detail; even the antennas had every ridge and bump you'd see if you were truly in the wild.

"Woah!" Ajax grabbed the sketchbook, unable to contain his shock.

Scaramouche flinched. Art was the only place where he felt as if he could express his emotions, away from judgment and lingering eyes. Showing his art was like stripping himself naked; as the young man grabbed the book, it felt as though he grabbed his heart. Do people usually overstep boundaries like this? I never gave him my permission to touch it.

"Oh– my bad!" Upon realizing what he had done, the ginger returned the book with an awkward chuckle. "I was just.. amazed. This is great– hey, what kind of bug is this, anyway?" He tilted his head in curiosity.

"it's an onikabuto."

Ajax didn't recognize such a name, but it sounded Inazuman. He could gather that much.

"That's an Inazuman beetle, isn't it?"

"Yes. It is." The young boy grabbed the sketchbook from the table, returning to work— though in Ajax's opinion, it didn't need anything. It was perfect as is.

There were many foreigners who came to Monstadt for an education. Sure, there were institutions available in other nations, but as the nation of freedom, Monstadt was the only place which offered public schooling for all ages. He could only wonder.

"Is that where you're from?"

The smaller boy nodded. He considered sharing more, but stopped himself. Ajax had been nothing but kind to him, but even so, Scaramouche couldn't help but feel wary.

The two sat in silence. Ajax had always been interested in visiting Inazuma, for he thought it was a beautifully fascinating nation. Apparently, the people of Inazuma are very close with their archon— much more than the people of Monstadt, or even back home in Snezhnaya. He gained this much through social studies classes.

Later that night, Ajax thought long and hard. He'd lay in bed with an arm draped over his eyes, shielding any light that crept through the door. somewhere, somehow, he felt a shift in his motives. Reminding himself that he was only getting close for the sake of Kokomi was no longer enough. The image of Scaramouche's face earlier that morning burned bright in his mind, full of fear and confusion. For reasons he couldn't describe, he was interested in getting to know more about the boy.