Chapter Text
The midday sun beat down on PK Academy, another day of manufactured chaos for Kusuo Saiki. He navigated the crowded hallways, his psychic abilities a constant barrage of thoughts, hopes, and anxieties washing over him. Please let there be coffee jelly at lunch. Please. Don't let Nendo try to invite me to ramen again. Please, for the love of all that is holy, let Yumehara refrain from imagining our wedding this afternoon.
He was a psychic island in a sea of eccentrics. Riki Nendo, the perpetually oblivious musclehead. Shun Kaido, the delusional chuunibyou convinced he was battling a dark organization. Kokomi Teruhashi, the "perfect pretty girl" whose inner monologue was anything but. They were exhausting.
And then there was Momo Iseri.
Momo was, in a word, normal. Exceedingly, almost suspiciously, normal.
She was of average height, neither strikingly beautiful nor remarkably plain. Her dark brown eyes possessed a quiet intelligence, her white hair a rebellious streak against the backdrop of the uniform. She wore graphic tees emblazoned with bands he couldn't pronounce the names of outside school, the kind that screamed "I have opinions and good taste in music," but in school, she just wore the uniform. Her piercings were subtle, glints of silver that punctuated her cool, casual style. She was the eye of the hurricane that was his life.
Kusuo found himself gravitating towards her, not in a romantic way, much to Yumehara's chagrin, but in a desperate search for sanity. Where others demanded attention, Momo simply existed, a calm presence in the storm. She didn't try to engage him in pointless conversations, nor did she expect anything from him. She just... was.
"Hey, Saiki," she greeted him one afternoon, leaning against the wall outside their classroom. Her voice was low and slightly raspy, like she'd spent the morning belting out some obscure post-punk anthem. "Heard the teacher's got another pop quiz planned. Fun times, right?"
Kusuo merely nodded, already aware of the quiz thanks to his telepathy. He could have easily read the answers from the teacher's mind, but what was the point? Besides, witnessing the collective panic of his classmates was mildly entertaining.
Momo shrugged. "Whatever. I aced the last one, so I'm not too worried." She pulled out her phone and plugged in her earbuds, the faint strains of some heavy metal band leaking out.
Aced it? Kusuo thought, surprised. Most students were dreading the impending doom of a pop quiz. He used his telepathy to scan her memory. She had indeed aced the last one, and she seemed genuinely unfazed by the upcoming one. Interesting.
The bell rang, signaling the start of class. They filed in, the usual cacophony of chatter and nervous energy filling the room. Kusuo took his seat, strategically placing himself near the window. He preferred to observe the world from a distance, a silent observer of the human condition.
As the teacher droned on about mitochondria and cellular respiration, Kusuo noticed Momo doodling in her notebook. He discreetly used his telepathy to peek at her drawing. It was a detailed sketch of a skull wearing headphones, a cigarette precariously dangling from its skeletal jaw. Above it, she'd written the name of some band he'd never heard of in a jagged, gothic font.
Morbid, but at least it's art, he thought. And not a declaration of undying love, a battle strategy against the Dark Reunion, or a thinly veiled attempt at getting my attention. It was, in its own way, refreshing.
Later that week, during lunch, Nendo, as expected, lumbered over to him. "Hey, buddy! Wanna go get ramen after school?"
Kusuo braced himself. "No, thank you, Nendo."
"Aw, come on, buddy! It'll be fun!" Nendo's persistence was legendary.
Before Kusuo could formulate another escape plan, Momo intervened. "Hey, Nendo," she said, her voice cutting through Nendo's obliviousness, "Saiki's busy. He's helping me with my English paper."
Nendo blinked, his expression vacuous. "Oh. Okay." He shuffled off, muttering something about how he'd "catch him next time."
Kusuo stared at Momo, speechless. "I am not helping you with your English paper."
Momo grinned, a flash of white teeth against her pale skin. "I know. But it got rid of Nendo, didn't it? Besides, you looked like you were about to spontaneously combust."
He had been. "Thank you," he mumbled, surprised by his own gratitude.
"No problem," she said, shrugging. "Consider it payback for… well, for all the times I've probably annoyed you without realizing it."
She didn't even know she wasn't annoying. That was the beauty of it. He pulled out his coffee jelly and began to eat, the sweet, caffeinated treat a momentary respite from the world.
As the days turned into weeks, Kusuo found himself spending more and more time in Momo's vicinity. Not because he wanted to, exactly, but because her presence was… grounding. She didn't demand anything. She didn't pry. She just existed, a silent, cool observer of the absurdities of high school.
One rainy afternoon, as they were walking home from school, Kusuo noticed Momo shivering. She was only wearing her school uniform, a thin blazer providing little protection against the chill.
He sighed internally. He knew what he had to do. With a flick of his wrist, he used his psychokinesis to subtly warm the air around her.
Momo stopped, looking around in confusion. "Huh. It suddenly feels warmer, doesn't it?"
Kusuo shrugged, feigning ignorance. "Must be your imagination."
She narrowed her eyes, studying him for a moment. "You're weird, Saiki. You know that, right?"
He paused. Did she suspect? Was she closer to the truth than anyone else? "I am perfectly normal."
Momo chuckled. "Sure, you are. That's why you're always staring off into space and never seem to react to anything." She bumped his shoulder playfully. "But hey, I'm not complaining. Normal people are boring."
Kusuo blinked. She didn't suspect anything. She just thought he was… weird. It was almost insulting.
But also… relieving.
He continued walking, the rain drumming against his pink hair. He felt a strange sense of… contentment.
As they reached her house, Momo paused. "Later, Saiki," she said, flashing him a quick smile. "And thanks again for, uh, the sudden burst of sunshine."
She slipped inside, leaving Kusuo standing alone in the rain. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of the rain, the distant hum of traffic, the faint strains of heavy metal music emanating from Momo's open window.
He was still surrounded by chaos, by the constant barrage of thoughts and emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. But for the first time in a long time, he felt… a faint glimmer of peace. And it was all thanks to the remarkably, wonderfully, blissfully normal Momo Iseri. Now if only he could get Nendo to stop asking him about ramen.