Another RFC Submission - Tetsu Goes Out
(The ending is kind of abrupt, but I ran out of steam and I wanted to write another vignette after this where Mina gets to smell Tetsu for the first time but ILU and I hope you enjoy this)
When Tetsu goes out, he takes the shuttle. It takes them to the therapist, to “expeditions” where they learn and relearn skills like meal planning and grocery shopping, to temple or to tabernacle or to church, to approved meeting locations for interviews for those who are ready to graduate the program. Usually he takes the shuttle in a group, and sometimes it’s too loud and too crowded and he can’t scent or posture or make room for himself even though he’s not really supposed to scent or posture or make room for himself, and he hates it. But that’s how it is for him and the other fighters in the program, the ones that haven’t moved out to start living independently, or the one or two that have flunked out and disappeared.
They aren’t supposed to talk about it like that, like graduation and flunking out. The counselors and guides keep reminding them. Everyone heals at their own pace, learns at their own pace, grows at their own pace. He hears, but it’s hard to believe he’s making progress when sometimes even a closed window is too much like a cage or he knows his rut’s coming up and he wants to crawl outside of his own skin before he touches anyone.
Tetsu’s not ready to graduate the program yet, not nearly. But he’s earned some privileges. He can go out without a counselor or a keeper to his therapy sessions now. He’s allowed to meet Kirishima at the coffee shop to study without any chaperones except the general public, and he hasn’t messed it up. He’s even managed to have a few small, slow, painfully stilted conversations with the pink haired bitch omega girl that works there when she drops off his iced latte.
He was stupidly proud of himself when he asked her if he could have less ice in his iced latte, because of his teeth, and he told his therapist about it later that day. Taishiro said it was okay to be proud of himself. Healing was nonlinear, and all that. Making polite requests was part of living independently.
He managed to say as much to Ashido as he did to Kirishima, now, when they studied. That still wasn’t much, but it was enough to learn that she was in college, that she was almost done her art degree, that she was fiercely defensive of Kirishima and her other coworkers.
It was enough to learn that she had drawn him - studies, she said, practices in perspective - and before he could decide if he was upset or not, she left a page of her sketchbook with his drink before vanishing to restock the bakery case.
Tetsu hadn’t wanted to look at the sketches. He didn’t want to see himself, didn’t want to see how she saw him. One movie night they had watched a Disney movie, and Tetsu couldn’t make it through, too familiar with the self-loathing the Beast expressed. Who could ever love a Beast stand an alpha like him, all teeth and claws and scars and clumsy tongue?
Kirishima saw too much. He always did. And instead of just telling him to look at the pictures, he mentioned, offhandedly, half an hour after she had placed the sketches down, how he had some of her sketches in his room, of him and the others, and even his plants, and how it was nice, sometimes, to see what other people saw.
He waited until Kirishima went to the restroom to look.
Tetsu didn’t know enough about art to know what she had done them in, some kind of extra thick pencil it looked like, but there were half a dozen Tetsus over the page, one from behind bent over a book. Ashido had carefully outlined the muscles in his back and his shoulders as he hunched low and reached for his latte. There were Tetsus in profile, a Tetsu with his head in his hands, a Tetsu looking up, not with a smile, but without a growl.
Ashido hadn’t shied away from showing the scars on his neck or his arms or his lips, hadn’t hidden his teeth, and part of him ached to know that she saw them. But she had drawn more than that; the shadows in his hair and the light in his eyes and the life in his lungs were staring back at him. He looked different, so different, from the pictures they had taken after the ring was broken. In those, all Tetsu saw was a monster.
In Ashido’s sketches, he could see a man.
After that, Tetsu wanted to use some of his hard earned privileges. It had been almost three months since he had last launched himself at someone, six weeks since he growled and postured in group or in public, and he knew Taishiro would support him if he asked nicely and if he had a plan.
He was going to get Ashido a present. In return for the sketches, which he had passed on to his dad, who cried over them.
The art store was a little farther out than he expected. It wasn’t one of his usual stops - the cafe, the Alpha gym that opened early especially for the ex-fighters, the dentist - but it was close enough to the temple that some of the others went to so that he could walk the rest of the way. Taishiro made him review his plan several times, the directions between the shuttle stop and the art supply store, and what time he had to be back, and what he should do if he got overwhelmed.
The best laid plans of mice and men usually get fucked up.
The ride to the temple was fine. Shoji and the driver were the only other alphas in the bus, and Tetsu looked away and didn’t react when Shoji passed his seat.
Walking to the art supply store was fine, too. It was a twelve minute walk, although it took Tetsu sixteen because of waiting for the crossing light and moving to the side to let people pass when they walked too close behind him.
Finding something for Ashido … that’s when things began to go wrong.
For one thing, Tetsu didn’t actually know anything about art. He knew that Ashido drew in pencil, and Kirishima had mentioned her spilling ink all over the couch, and he had heard her mention things about sculpting, but what kind of paper did she use? There were literal aisles of sketch pads and paper packs with slight variations of white and strings of letters and numbers that Tetsu had no understanding of. The pencils were almost as bad - there were pencils in individual cubby holes and pencils in tins and packs of pencils for sketching, and there were charcoals and pastels. He took one look at all the little wires and sticks that were supposed to be sculpting tools and turned around.
The other part was that everything seemed so expensive. Could a pack of colored pencils really cost that much?
This had been a stupid idea.
The goth omega that was stocking shelves spoke up when Testu growled to himself.
“Do you need something that’s not on the shelves? We can special order it if you don’t see it.”
Fuck. Now he had to talk. He hated talking to people. And he hadn’t practiced like he had the hello and good bye and thank you he would need at check out.
“No - itsh -” G-ddamnit he sounded drunk. He needed to talk more. “Itsh a thank you gift, and - I don’t know what she wantsh.”
The omega was nodded like he had some kind of inner knowledge of gift giving.
“The labyrinth of gift giving can suck anyone into the black mire of despair. What kind of stuff does she make?”
“Uh, she drawsh - drawz - uh, in pensh - pen-cil. And shometimes, I think, doesh - does - a lot of little doodles, in pen? But I don’t know the brand.”
“Strictly black and white or does she do color as well?”
“I’m not shure, but - her hair’s pink? And she wearsh a lot of bright makeup.”
“Pink hair, loud makeup. A familiar sight. You aren’t talking about Ashido, are you?”
Struck dumb, Tetsu nodded.
“Wonders will never cease. I know exactly what you should get her. She’s been drooling over this set for weeks. She’s waxed poetic about the blends, talks to the pencils like a lover.”
That was when the first mistake happened. The omega got a little too close and Testsu didn’t like the idea of Ashido talking to the clerk - talking to anyone else - anyone else - talking to pencils - anyone hearing Ashido talk like that.
The omega backed up, startled, and glanced toward the front of the store.
“Wait, no - shorry, I just - sh- sorry. Sorry. Which pack wash she looking at?”
Tetsu backed up to give the omega room and ducked his head, keeping his hands down. Taishiro called it reverse-posturing, trying to look less intimidating and take up less space. The omega paused before coming closer, than reached to the top shelf and handed him a box of Tomo Irojiten pencils.
“This one has the flourescents. It’s a cornucopia of colors for her.”
Tetsu looked between the box and the price tag. He would be short almost 1000 yen with this.
“Maybe, uh, a shmaller box? It’sh, a, just a thank you gift.”
“There’s a 20% first time shopper coupon, if you want to use it. We’ve got a stack of ‘em up front. Come on.”
Tetsu allowed himself to be led to the front, where the clerk - his tag, handdrawn in black and silver, said ‘Tokoyami’ - rung the pencils in and scanned the coupon.
“Hey, Kouda! Can you gift wrap this? It’s for Ashido.”
Another omega - tall and silent - wrapped the pencil box in striped paper and put it in the shopping bag as Tokoyami counted out his change.
With one hurdle down, Tetsu felt good. It hadn’t gone perfectly, but he got it.
He still had extra time before the shuttle came back.
And he liked the iced lattes Ashido got him.
He could stop and get something to drink.
It wasn’t until he was ordering in the busy cafe that he remembered he had spent all of his money, and he stumbled over his words as tried to apologize and cancel his order, but the shop was busy and the line behind him wasn’t patient and there were already more people just in line then there ever were at Kirishima’s cafe and his nerves were fraying. The victory of finding Ashido a good present was not enough to keep his spirits up.
“Come on, dude, hurry up!”
“G-d, I’ll pay for him, just let’s go! It’s hot out here!”
“Get out of the fuckin’ line, mush mouth!”
With the command, the alpha behind him shoved his shoulder and Tetsu’s control snapped.
He didn’t want to think about it. The alpha that shoved him had gone down, bloody and fast, and the cops were called to drag a hissing and spitting Tetsu into the squad car from a cafe that stank of fear and aggression.
Ashido’s pencils had gotten broken in the fight, and Tetsu held them to his chest as he very deliberately didn’t cry.
BY @mtorolite
WHO IS LIKE NOW OFFICIALLY THE OFFICIAL AUTHOR OF RFC MINATETSU
AND THE SAD ENDING IM,,,,,,,,,, OUCH WOW THIS IS SO CUTE AND GOOD TAHKN YODFU ASDFHASFA
