Expect the Unexpected (CHISCARA Highschool AU)

Just My Luck

The skaters flashed by in a blur of colors, gusts of wind scattering like mayflies. Scaramouche held onto the wall for dear life with a wide-eyed expression. It felt as though the rink were a sea of sharks, and he was but a small fish— utterly helpless in the center.

"'C'mon! It's not scary!" Ajax wore an infectious smile, trying his best not to burst into laughter. To him, Scaramouche's face was nothing short of hysterical. "We can stay by the wall, but we still have to move!" He guided the boy by his arm.

Scaramouche held his breath, waiting for the moment where he'd fall hard on the linoleum floor. Never in his life would he have expected something like rollerskating to be so daunting. To him, everyone on television acted as though they were having a blast without a care in the world. But currently, he couldn't have been more terrified. Scaramouche shuffled his feet in an attempt to make progress. I shouldn't have agreed. Why did I get on that god-forsaken bike?

"No, no, that's not how you move. You need to glide— like this" The ginger demonstrated, pushing off the ground with one foot and letting the other carry him forward. He repeated this a few times before glancing back at the smaller boy to ensure he understood. Instead, he was met with a blank stare. He began to wonder if anything he said had even gotten through to him.

"You're kidding..." Scaramouche eyed Ajax's skates. How is he staying upright with only one foot on the ground? Even if it's only for a split second— his feet are angled inwards! He should be falling! Frantic thoughts spiraled his mind, overthinking every subtle movement.

"It's not rocket science. C'mon... just try?" Ajax gave the most melodramatic puppy eyes he could muster.

Scaramouche looked down, attempting to copy the boy's movements in hopes that he would at least stop making that horrendous face. Taking a deep breath, he pushed off of the ground with one foot. He began to glide across the floor as his hand graced the wall; this way he'd at least have something to fall back on. Slowly and surely, Scaramouche made progress. He proved to be a rather quick learner, as he soon was able to skate leisurely with free hands.

For reasons he couldn't quite describe, Ajax felt proud. It felt as though he raised a small bird and taught it to fly. Perhaps he had gotten ahead of himself, as he suggested the smaller boy skated in the middle with the rest of the crowd. This was not one of his best ideas.

Scaramouche must have been feeling quite confident as well, since he agreed to the ginger's idea. He noticed how smooth and poised the other skaters were, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he longed to be like them. Though he's never been skating, he knew one thing: he wanted to be at the top of the roller skating hierarchy with the elites (If that was even a thing).

Making his way to the middle of the rink, the midnight-haired boy beamed over at Ajax with eyes that said, I'm doing it! Aren't you proud? For a moment, he had forgotten all about protecting his peace and avoiding new friendships. Right now, it was just him and his skates. He must've also forgotten where he was, as he felt a sharp impact blow through his entire body. Scaramouche's ass hit the floor harder than Morax's flying boulders. A searing pain hit his bottom as his newly found love for skating had vanished in an instant. I'm never roller skating again.

Ajax took quick notice, as he pushed himself away from the wall and rushed over to the boy's side. He knelt down and began frantically apologizing to the mother and small child that he had just rammed into.

"I– I'm so sorry! Are you guys okay— "

"It's fine..." The mother dismissed him in a rather unconvincing manner, hurrying the child away. The young girl seemed shaken. A pit of embarrassment ate through Scaramouche's stomach as he realized they were sitting in the center of the rink; people began throwing odd looks and maneuvering around them.

"...Can we... leave?" The boy mumbled and looked down at his knees, midnight hair covering most of his face. Scaramouche was absolutely mortified— which was interesting, because he rarely felt embarrassment. Perhaps this was because he scarcely felt confident, but this time was different. He was proud of himself.

"...How about we just hit the arcade instead?" There was no way Ajax was going to waste mora on a five-minute trip to the roller rink. Plus, he had come here for a reason. He mostly wanted revenge; he needed the whole word to know he was better off without Kokomi. He wanted them to think he was happier with somebody else— and the roller rink on a Saturday was the perfect place to be seen.

"Fine..."

The two descended from the rink and removed their skates, a bit wobbly on their feet. It was almost like stepping onto solid land after a long voyage across sea. After taking a moment to buy tokens at a nearby machine, Ajax led Scaramouche over to whack–a–weasel; one of his favorite games. He would've chosen air hockey, but he had a tendency to be aggressive with the puck— or so he was told.

"What's this? Does it hurt?" The smaller boy studied the rubber sledge hammer and numerous holes, wondering why they would leave such a morbid contraption in the open.

"What?— no. This is whack-a-weasel! You whack the weasels, not yourself." Ajax inserted two tokens into the machine and began to demonstrate. "Look."

The LED sign above the game gleamed and danced, playing an eccentric 8-bit tune. One by one, weasels began to pop their heads out of the holes. Ajax picked up the hammer and began viciously whacking each animal, the entire machine shaking with his force. Scaramouche wondered if he was the reason behind several of the 'out of order' signs scattered across the arcade...  The weasels slid back into their holes as the game announced that the ginger had scored a perfect score of 24. Out of a small slit next to the token-slot spat out a line of tickets. Scaramouche eyed the perpetual stream of paper, wondering when the hell it would end.

"What are these for...?" He kneeled in front of the tickets, reading the small lettering printed on each one.

"Oh– those are for the store over there!" Ajax pointed to a small shop with various prizes behind a counter. "You use the tickets you earn by playing games to buy things."

If Scaramouche were a cat, his ears would have shot into the air with this information. Earlier, he wanted to leave— but now, the smaller boy found himself eager to play every game in the arcade. I'll get rewarded for having fun? Seriously? He began to wonder how he ever lived without going to a place like this at least once. Part of him wanted to pity himself for having such an uneventful life.

Scaramouche took two tokens and inserted it into the machine just as Ajax had done. Once again, weasels began to pop out of each hole one by one. He picked up the hammer and began whacking the animals. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and before he knew it, a small grin had spread across his face. The ginger leaned absentmindedly against a nearby support–beam as he watched in awe. His stomach turned, his face burned scarlett; Scaramouche's smile was overwhelmingly... beautiful? Ajax felt a heavy sense of deja vu wash over him. Surely he must have felt this feeling somewhere before...

His heart sank as the realization hit him like a truck. This feels like a crush.