Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Act I: Victim

01: i GO

“If you cage the beast, the beast will get angry.” ― Wolverine

6 years later

“How do plants get their nitrogen from the air?”

A 17-year-old boy’s eyes wandered around the room. From the looks of it, most of his peers had already checked out. Two of them were asleep in the back, slobber pooling at their mouths. Another peer was too busy looking at TikTok videos, her phone on her lap.

Therefore, he shrugged and answered.

“They don’t.”

The teacher clicked on the next question on the test review. But when she heard an answer, she fumbled a bit in her posture before clicking back to the last question on the Promethean board. She coughed awkwardly and stood up straighter.

Why the hell was she so surprised?

“Why?” She asked with a bit of edge in her voice. “Mr. Usopp.”

The teen snorted. “Plants do not extract nitrogen directly from the air,” he said easily. “Despite the air's abundance of nitrogen, it exists as molecular nitrogen, with each nitrogen atom triple-bonded to another.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Sure, he was being a bit smug. But the teacher hadn’t been particularly fair either.

“Fucking.” Cough. “Know-it-all.” Cough.

A few giggles followed.

Usopp tapped his finger on his mechanical pencil with 0.5 lead.

“Well,” the teacher said, ignoring the giggles. “You’ve been studying.” She put her nose up high as the board’s screen reflected in the glasses she wore. “Good.” With that, she continued with the review, and Usopp put back on his headphones that’d been sitting around his neck. He looked out the window and watched the light rain sprinkle on the glass.

A while later the bell rang and Usopp was startled awake.

Damn. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t nod off, but it was a review day. And he was more than prepared for the exam. What was so hard about the Nitrogen Cycle?

He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the classroom. But right when he started to head in the direction of the Lit 1 classroom, he was pushed right into the locker. He was pushed so hard the metal rang, and he could hear the bolts that connected the locker components click. The impact was there in his back, but Usopp had learned to withstand the pain in and outside the school hallways.

“Loser!”

Usopp didn’t even close his eyes when spit hit his face. It of course smelled, and some of it did get into his eye. But the perpetrator wasn’t even original.

The 17-year-old straightened up his stance and his eyes followed the guy who not only spit in his face, but the guy had also wrinkled his uniform.

Usopp glanced around the hallway and saw that all eyes were on him. Some of his peers were whispering to each other while giving him the side eye, and others either looked humored or indifferent. His eyes then fell on familiar brown eyes. They were a mixture of concern, sadness, and anger. Soft eyelashes and orange eyeshadow. Beautiful.

Usopp looked away and continued on his way to Literature.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Usopp stood at the vending machine with a vacant look. The bag of Swedish Fish was calling his name but a certain someone would not be so happy at the thought that he cheated. But he couldn’t even have coffee (that didn’t make frickin’ sense). He had to strictly drink water. He growled in frustration and turned around. Right as he did, he bumped into someone whom he could hardly make eye contact with. He swore the person was lost. Why else would they not be at Kendo practice?

//

“What do you mean I’ll have to wear an eye patch?!”

“It’s only temporary! You’ll be back - “

“I can’t practice with one eye.”

“Sir, you should be glad you don’t need a skin graft.”

“Like that makes me feel any better.”

“You’re luckier than most. You survived an acid attack.”

“I- I can’t perform like this!”

\\

Usopp’s hands tightened into fists. People were so evil sometimes. People could work hard, and make people notice. But sometimes the wrong people notice. Was it jealousy? Was it obsession?

Usopp didn’t know.

He stopped and turned back around to look at him. His peer made eye contact. He’d been watching him.

Maybe he was cursing Usopp in his head. Something along the lines of, “You can’t come back until you give a proper apology,” or “You’re no friend by acting the way you did. You meant all of it!” But not every human being was like that. Usopp was sure of it. Not everyone could wake up every day with a firm resolve to better themselves. Who was his peer without his shinai?

Who was Usopp without his knack for words? He didn’t know. To his peer, he was just an ungrateful brat with mood swings. Most notably, he thought of Usopp as a coward. After all, who could take a punch every day and grovel at the very person who gave him one?

He was pretty sure the guy didn’t understand.

Usopp’s mind flashed with images of himself being punched right in the gut. It was one simple move that left him winded. He was on his back, looking up at the ceiling with genuine tears. Bleeding, and smiling, as tears welled up in his eyes. Ones of anger and strife. He remembered thinking he’d die. He put that upon himself. Maybe it was on purpose. It was a landslide.

His best friend had walked away from him forever.

After a while Usopp broke his peer's gaze, having lost the staring contest. The hard ass was always headstrong in this martial arts movie type away. He could make as many enemies as he could allied associates. He wasn’t necessarily charismatic, but his confidence gave him the aura he naturally held. The aura to protect those he deemed worthy.

Usopp remembered the guy’s words he’d said to him once:

Believe it or not, we like you. So, are you coming or not?

Why did he think for one moment that everything would be okay? He remembered the day when he made the person take back their words.

You guys hate me now.

Usopp put a hand to his mouth as his hands shook. He was such a crybaby. But his back hurt a lot more than he expected. That was it. That was why he was overcome with these stupid emotions. Tears ran down his cheeks because of a stupid back pain. Was it back pain? Really? He could laugh, but he knew nothing would come out.

Ignoring the pain, Usopp quickly wiped them away and kept it pushing.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

As soon as the study-hall teacher made his exit for a “coffee run”, they were upon Usopp. He’d been too preoccupied by the words Kendrick Lamar spit out along to a melody that was a thing of its own.

Usopp had tapped his mechanical pencil against the desk and mouthed the words he heard.

A hand grabbed the locks of hair that’d fallen out of his rasta cap. As he was thrown against the wall, the desk crashing down with a loud thump, he could hear loud murmurs fill the teacher-less classroom. No one dared to intervene since the big brute of an asshole named Kumacy loved to pick on those weaker than him.

Usopp could already taste the blood coming from his nose. Why the hell was everything so effing predictable? Regardless, he found himself on his knees. “Bruh!” Usopp said with desperation as Kumacy grabbed the dry-erase marker off the board. “I’ll do your homework for the rest of the year! Pl- please don’t hurt me!” He pleaded obsequiously. He looked up and smiled nervously. His smile won people over, right? The Great Captain Usopp was always ready for his close-up. Even if the close-up was at the bottom of someone’s shoe.

Semantics, semantics.

The teenager towering over him resembled a bear. He was round, with an angular but short nose, and his teeth were a bit ragged in a way that made him animalistic. His fingernails were a bit longer than any guy Usopp knew.

Kumacy snorted. “You suck, Longnose,” he taunted. “Don’t you know that?!”

“Longnose” was silent.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? He thought as he looked up at the big boy. The only thing he remembered doing to Kumacy was giving him a bad test score (Technically the teacher did. She was the one with the grading pen). It wasn’t Usopp’s fault that the big guy trusted his intelligence so much to cheat off of him during the midterm.

Nor was it Usopp’s fault that he, himself, may have flunked the midterm on purpose since he could easily make it up for the final, and Kumacy was an asshole (or a victim of Usopp’s so-called nonchalance).

As though his bully knew what the hell he was thinking, Usopp was grabbed by the collar and thrown haphazardly to the other side of the room.

Now that would leave a mark.

He rubbed at his shoulder, vaguely making a note to ice it before he went to bed.

Before he could even crawl away from Kumacy, one of Kumacy’s followers was already picking him off the ground; flinging him up as though he were a rag doll. He was “Usopp, The Bitch,” apparently. Wait. He already knew that. The whole damn school knew that.

He was pushed towards Kumacy and was made to stay still. Two hands were gripping him on the shoulder to keep him grounded. “I wonder…” Kumacy said. “Is your dick as long as your nose?” At that, the whole class was filled with roars of laughter. He could feel pictures being taken; and videos being recorded. Did TikTok allow this shit? Would this be allowed to go viral? He’d get those 8,000 followers he was always lying about.

Before he could even think about it, words were leaving his mouth. “Yeah, I’m sure you’d like to ride it. Obsessed, much?”

That earned him a good punch in the jaw. If this had been his first rodeo, he was pretty sure his front tooth would’ve split. But he only started to bleed again. And before you knew it, he was on the ground ruthlessly getting kicked by Kumacy and his followers.

He bit his lip and closed his eyes.

He tried to cover and protect both his head and face. Usopp wasn’t a stranger to broken ribs either, but he wanted to breathe on his own today. He had a choice in that, right?

In how he’d get his ass kicked?

Craaaash! 

The kicking stopped.

Once the kicking stopped, he heard another crash of desks. Soon followed with, “If y'all lay one more fucking finger on him, I’m going to kick all your asses!”

Usopp slowly sat up, still a little dizzy but noticed the looks of fear on the faces of his peers (or freaking bystanders!). He followed their gazes and his eyes widened on their own. “L- Luffy?” He whispered.

A figure, a young man, stood above Usopp’s assaulter. The boy’s fists were tight and bleeding. An old straw hat sat atop his head, hiding his messy dark hair.

All eyes were on him.

“Got it?!” The straw hat-wearing teen said, gritting his teeth. “And so?” He stopped to shrug at the bully. “You’re dumb as fuck, GET OVER IT!”

Kumacy was holding his nose. He’d growled but didn’t have much of a response. Usopp was pretty sure the big guy was crying. A broken nose could do that to you.

He’d know first-hand.

Luffy leaned in closer to Kumacy. “GOT IT?!” He repeated with an even louder tone. Words as emphasized as that punch, he landed.

The big guy nodded with a grunt.

Usopp swallowed loudly and glanced around the room. Everyone’s eyes were still on Luffy and the ever-commanding presence he exuded. Therefore, Usopp decided to dip out quietly (or as inconspicuously as possible).

He crawled out the door.

Before he could even get about 5 feet away from the door and into the hallway, he was staring at a pair of shiny black derby shoes, which he was pretty sure came from the armed forces surplus store–about 30 minutes away from here.

Usopp sighed before slowly lifting his head.

“Why, Mr. Usopp,” the individual before him said. “Getting into more trouble, are we?”

The 17-year-old met the shades of the school dean, Dr. Spandam.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It was maybe 15 minutes after 5 pm. He wasn’t sure, but he’d been in the school for far longer than he liked. Although this hadn’t been his first time at school after hours, he would’ve preferred for it to not be on a Friday. He had plans.

He had the type of plans fit for a captain.

Yet, he was tasked to clean the art room. Which meant cleaning up brushes, sweeping the floor, scrubbing paint away on the table with a magic eraser–so it would look like Picasso hadn’t thrown up in the classroom.

Usopp didn’t know who the art teacher was, but he’d heard he was pretty decent. Very low-key but passionate. If Usopp had time for an extracurricular he probably would’ve opted to take the course.

Regardless, he still took the time to admire some of the hanging artwork done by some of the people in his grade. From a still life of multiple pieces of warped fruit (they looked like a big vine of grapes) to an oceanscape that had a tiny boat peeking out in the corner with a lion head.

They were pretty phenomenal if he was being honest.

“He could have at least let me keep my phone…” Usopp muttered as he used one hand to wipe his sweaty forehead. “I don’t have a lotta time on my hands.” He was almost done dust-mopping when someone walked in. At first, he hadn’t even noticed their presence. He was preoccupied with one corner of the room where the trashcan was full. “Gotta take that out,” he murmured.

“I forgot to do that one,” a voice said. “Lemme go get a bag.”

Usopp jumped. “What the fuck!” He cursed a bit too loudly. He turned around and frowned. “I thought he left,” he murmured. “He usually has MMA– “

Luffy entered the classroom with a big black trash bag. He wore a neutral look that was different from the familiar grin he flashed to anyone who didn’t piss him off. He was as much selective as open with those who crossed his path.

He was honest.

He was a wave rider.

Luffy made his way over to the trashcan and Usopp stepped back to stay out of his way.

Leave already, he thought bitterly. I’m the reason why you’re here anyway.

Usopp turned around to finish the dry mopping. Kumacy was supposed to wet mop each floor in each room in the entire school afterward. Along with wet mopping, Kumacy was also assigned to vacuum each room that had carpeting and rugs.

Usopp leaned the dust mop against the wall so he could grab the broom that sat at the other side of the room.

“Here,” Luffy said holding the broom handle out to him.

Usopp nodded with a quiet “thanks”.

Once he was done getting the crap into the dustpan, it was taken out of his hand. “You can dump it in there,” Luffy said indifferently, emptying the dustpan into the trashcan. Usopp nodded and thanked him again.

Silently he grabbed the dry-mop and Luffy grabbed the broom. They then walked out of the classroom and to the janitor’s closet.

“You have training at this time, right?” Usopp asked. Mr. Rayleigh’s gonna make you work overtime? He wanted to add, but he remembered they weren’t friends. They were strangers. Or at the very least, acquaintances.

“Yeah,” Luffy replied. “But I wasn’t planning on going anyway.”

Usopp raised a brow but nodded as though he understood why. Maybe Luffy was promised a whole box of sausage pizza to himself, or a big Ziploc bag of ribs (don’t ask). Luffy actually had friends to hang out with on a Friday night.

There was still an awkward silence.

Usopp didn’t care. He was eager to walk to the plant nursery where he worked. First, he needed to grab his phone from the office.

Later, once he walked into the sunlight, he relaxed his shoulders.

His phone was now with him, Usopp could leave now, and get away from everything. He could get away from the shitty high school that he went to; even though half the time he was hardly surviving. Maybe he should get a GED.

He knew first-hand that that had worked for some people.

“Work?” Luffy said he turned to walk in the opposite direction of where Usopp was going.

Did he read his mind?

“With the plants?”

Usopp relaxed and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Tell Mr. Heracles I said hi.” Luffy then walked away.

Usopp could barely see a trio of people at the top of the hill leading up to the parking lot. Yeah, he murmured to himself. Expected.

He turned back around and walked to work.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"Embracing the rain, I find strength to weather life's storms. 💪🌧️ #SharpshooterShadow #DenDenNexus”