Chapter Text
Ranboo wouldn't say he's up to date with the politics of high school. He's the awkward kid in the back of the class with like 3 friends total in the school. He's 15 and struggling with puberty and insanely tall because mother nature doesn't like him.
He's got medical issues that make everyone sit far away from him and make a wide berth in the halls like they might catch his stuff. They won't but he's not brave enough to tell them that. Because he looks someone in the eyes briefly and stutters over his words.
He's the only kid in 300 that wears a paper mask, like he's caught the flu 24/7. He's the only kid in 300 that walks with a cane and gets to sit out of gym class. He's the only kid who wears sunglasses indoors and he has to do the awkward song and dance every new teacher of 'yes I have permission to wear these don't make me take them off'.
He's transferred three schools this year alone and this is his last shot before he has to get rehomed in the foster system. His foster parents are nice but they're tired and clearly didn't expect him to be this much work.
Not that he's trying to overload them.
He does his best to stay out of their way and does chores even when not asked to. They are very appreciative of the fact he does his own dishes and laundry and he'll do theirs for them too if they're late home.
They call him kind names like 'angel' and 'sweetheart' but he can see the bags under their eyes when he collapses in the middle of the kitchen because his leg gave out on him.
He always apologizes profusely and they smile (though strained) and tell him it's not his fault as they help him to the couch.
So Ranboo isn't winning prom king anytime soon, if this school even has a prom. He doesn't know because he's too shy and awkward to look at the sign ups on the corkboard by the entrance. He's not taking any electives because that might make him a target.
He just keeps his head down and never raises his hand and thankfully the teachers never call on him.
But even if he's socially absent he's not oblivious. And even if his memory problems mean he can't put a name to the face, he knows who the popular kids are. He knows where the popular kids sit at lunch and he knows when people are talking about them.
Their faces light up in excitement and jealously.
And there's a notable hole in the atmosphere of the lunchroom when they're not there one day. Two of the possibly ten kids out for some unknown reason. The tables buzz with confusion and excitement.
If it had just been one, no one would've noticed. But it was two and they were apparently brothers.
Then the next day, it's the same song and dance. They're still absent. The rumors fly, the voices get louder. Some people practically shout across the room asking where the hell they could be. The rest of the kids at the popular table are quiet and awkward.
A massive shift in tone and one of them stands and tells the people shouting to drop it or else. He's a football player and he's intimidating and Ranboo finds himself clenching his jaw to stop any words from coming out even if he was already quiet.
Day three and they're still gone and now his table has finally noticed. They're talking about it with gossip heavy in the air. His only friend he can sit with at lunch, Niki, leans in to her friends to say she shares music class with one of the missing kids.
She has his number, maybe she can ask and find out.
Day four and she tells everyone to drop it, give them space. If you hear any rumors don't pass them along.
Day five and the lunchroom is back to normal, save for a few glances at the table and the heavy atmosphere of the rest of the popular kids.
The next week it's just the same. Ranboo would've forgotten about it completely had the two-no, three, kids not been welcomed back on the Friday with cheers and loud hellos. Their faces wearing strained smiles the entire time.
Ranboo recognizes them now.
The taller one has brown curly fluffy hair that he honestly would love to just touch but he's not an animal. He always wears these really comfy sweaters that Ranboo was jealous of. And he's got a face that many people swoon over.
Ranboo was pretty damn sure the guy had like...talent show wins under his belt or something.
And the guy directly beside him is his brother? He thinks? With long pink hair that Ranboo was pretty sure is against the dress code. It's usually done up in pretty braids and stuff but today it's disheveled and barely brushed. He's always got dress shirts on and glasses on his nose.
They have the same face shape if Ranboo squints. They might be twins. They look about the same age even if they have obvious differences.
There's a word for that but he'd never remember it.
And finally the third guy trails behind them, looking bored and far younger. Ranboo doesn't remember seeing him before. Ever. He's got the same hair type as the taller guy, though it's blond as can be and bright blue eyes that he can tell the color of from here.
His clothes are dirty and look like he just came in from playing in the mud. Posture nervous and he constantly shifts from foot to foot.
There's something else off about him but he can't really pinpoint it if he's honest. And it's stupid to stare at people. He has a bad habit of people watching and it's gotten him beat up a few times by guys who aren't intimidated by his height.
He tries to look away before he gets caught but then blond guy's eyes drift around the room and land on him. Do a double-take and then he waves at Ranboo.
Ranboo, unsure of what else to do, waves back.
The guy's face morphs into something he can only describe as horrified surprise. Pointing at himself as if to make sure Ranboo is waving at him. Ah, he knows this feeling. Trying to make sure you're not waving to someone waving at someone else.
He nods, reassuringly.
He does not expect the kid to bolt towards him with the speed of Sonic the hedgehog. Dodging and weaving through people that don't seem to notice his hurry towards Ranboo. Ranboo tenses, gripping his cheap sandwich a bit too roughly and some of the contents spill out onto his tray.
Oh god, did he anger the guy that badly?!
The blond isn't out of breath when he reaches the edge of the table where Ranboo sits. He must be in sports or something.
And now that he's close up Ranboo avert his eyes obediently and hunches in on his shoulders to make himself smaller.
He gets a good look at the kid before all of this and now he can see a white streak in his hair and his dirty hands and face. The white and red shirt he was wearing had seen far better days and oh god he's not even wearing any shoes.
"Oi!" He says and his accent is un-mistakingly some form of British. As is a lot of kids in this school. It was a mixed bag of foreign here because the school was close to a cheap town perfect for immigrants.
Perfect for foster kids like him.
Niki herself was German and her father moved here with her after her mother divorced him or something.
"Can you seriously fucking see me?!" The blond demands and Ranboo was not expecting that question. Looking back up at the teenager who stares at him, wide eyed with disbelief.
"...y-yes?" Ranboo answered meekly and Niki looks up from talking with someone named...Jack? Tilting her head slightly.
"Yes what Ranboo?"
He looks back at her confused. This kid was loud, how did she not know that he was answering his question.
"Oh I was talking to-"
"Shut up, idiot!" The guy interrupts him. "Are you trying to get yourself sent to the loony bin?!" His hands twiched on the table like he wanted to grab Ranboo. He's seen that before. Most people don't resist the urge. "Leave the table, come on, follow me!"
"Uh...may I be excused?" Ranboo asks and everyone at the table looks at him like he's crazy and the teen pauses mid-run towards the exit like he can't believe what he just heard.
Niki laughs at least, smiling with that comforting look on her features. "Ranboo you don't need to ask to leave the table. Go ahead! We'll be here when you get back."
"Unless you need to take a shit in which case good luck my friend." Jack? laughed beside her and she gently nudged him.
He bowed his head slightly, moving to stand and picking up his tray. Unfolding his cane where it rested on the table beside him and awkwardly stumbling over to the trashcan as the nerves in the good parts of his legs realize they're moving.
The blond is nowhere to be seen until he exits the lunchroom finally. Leaning against the doorway like something people do in movies. He opens his mouth when Ranboo steps through and then pauses and looks him up and down.
Oh here it comes.
The million questions about his disability and his height.
How's the weather up there and why can't you walk right?
Why don't you just use a wheelchair or something?
Isn't there a special school for people like you?
Do you scrap your head on the ceiling?
Do you play basketball?
Admittedly he didn't get the latter very often because the whole cane thing.
The teen stares at him for a moment and then scoffs. "What the hell, you still using a boring black cane? At least put some stickers on it or something."
He doesn't know how to respond to that so he doesn't. Finally stumped by something someone asked him. The teen beckons him forward, no longer rushing and they make their way towards the Gym. Which is actually unoccupied during this period.
He can't remember the last time he saw the Gymnasium.
Not that it's hard to forget or anything.
The blond stops ahead of him, in the center of the Gym and stretches his arms out. "Alright cool no one will hear you here. I used to come in and scream profanities after the teachers gave me detention."
...well alright then. He moves to awkwardly stand in front of the guy. Putting both hands on his cane and shifting his weight. The guy stares for a moment, sighs and then takes a seat. "Sit down before you hurt yourself, dummy."
It's a welcome invitation, honestly and he's glad the guy is aggressively nice.
It'll make up for it later when he probably tries to shove Ranboo in a supply closet.
"Alright big man, what's your name?"
"R-Ranboo."
"...Ranboo?"
And now questions about his weird name, he's sure. Look he picked it out for himself when he was a kid. He wanted to call himself rainbow but he was still struggling to pronounce things and he ended up liking the spelling either way.
Still, it was awkward to be called that in mixed company. "Er...if you want you can call me Mar-"
"Fuck that, is that your name?"
"No?"
"Then I'm calling you Ranboo." The guy leaned on his hand, huffing. Looking almost annoyed at Ranboo for going to suggest another name. "Big guy, listen, my brother's name is Technoblade. You cannot get any weirder than that."
Ah cool. Technoblade. Right. He knew the guy's brothers name before his.
"And...uh...you are?" He prompts.
"...me? Oh right, you don't know me. Uh, I'm Tommy. Tommy Minecraft. Best one of the Minecraft siblings. We had different lunch periods I think."
Minecraft?
Wasn't that a video game?
Wait, if they had different lunch periods why was Tommy there today?
Now he was the one with a million awkward questions but he just nodded along like he understood. "And for some fucking reason, you can see me."
"...y-yeah?" Why wouldn't he be able to?
Tommy squinted at him, tilting his head slightly. "You don't think that's weird or anything?"
"...no? I see...everyone?"
"Is it the sunglasses? Are they like special sunglasses or something?"
"No, they're just normal sunglasses." Well okay not entirely. He did paint the temples of the glasses red and green to match his eyes. Not that anyone would notice. Tommy looked skeptical but he wasn't about to take them off here.
He was playing a dangerous game of how much could this guy tolerate before he snapped at how gross and scary Ranboo was.
His eyes would probably send him over the edge.
"So have you always been able to see stuff?"
"...yes??" What kind of question was that?! Did he think Ranboo was blind because of the sunglasses? He should probably clarify that. "I'm not uh...I'm not blind."
"Course you ain't, you see other shit just fine. I'm talking about me, nimrod."
"Why wouldn't I be able to see you?!"
Tommy looked dumbfounded then. Eyes widening in surprise as he sits up, straightening his back and it doesn't pop like Ranboo's tended to do. His mouth pops open and he seems to realize something.
"O-oh...you don't know."
Don't know what?
Ranboo didn't know a lot of things, he'd have to narrow it down.
"Ranboo, buddy, big man, tall fucker extraordinaire-"
"Please stop."
"I'm fucking dead."
...what.