Chapter Text
Randy really, really hated robots. They had been at school for exactly one, measly little week, and Randy had already had to fight four robots. The many armed terror of monday, the metal spider of wednesday, the fire breathing bull of thursday, and now several robotic apes on the first friday of the year. Y’know, if he counted all the apes separately, it would be eight robots.
“Ninja slice! Ninja slice!” He muttered to himself as he lopped off two of the ape’s heads. He’d gotten into the habit of calling out his actions as if they were anime hero moves. He found it helped him focus on what he was doing.
“Stop resisting!” One of the dismembered robots said, its already robotic voice distorting slightly.
“Ninja stab.” Randy sighed, spearing it through with a sai to shut it up. As it turned out, the suit had way more weapons than just a single sword. Sais, knives, this weird chainsicle thing, the possibilities seemed endless.
He slipped the sai back into his belt, surveying the carnage. The sparking, broken limbs of the robo apes were everywhere, with one even embedded in a nearby wall. Randy had no idea who was supposed to clean this up, but he knew it wasn’t his job. Time to disappear again.
No one was around, so he didn’t bother with a smokebomb, especially after noticing the smashed in security camera. He pulled the mask off, stretching his suddenly unenhanced muscles.
“Right, what period is it?” He pulled his schedule out of his pocket, comparing it with a cracked clock on the wall. “Science, got it.” He sprinted down the hall, turning a corner before realizing he was going the wrong direction, and backtracking.
Randy’s science class was taught by an old wacko that everyone was pretty sure was some sort of mad scientist. Her name was Mrs. Driscoll, and she pretended her skeletal anatomy dummy was her dead husband. It was beyond creepy, but at least her class was interesting… if Randy could ignore Howard long enough to pay attention.
Howard shared a few classes with him, but unfortunately science was the only class they were in together to have assigned seating, and of course, Randy’s luck, they were right next to each other. Randy did his best to ignore him, and most of the time Howard ignored him right back. Most of the time.
He steeled himself in front of Driscoll’s door. It wouldn’t be that bad, he told himself. It would be fine .
“Late again , Mr. Cunningham.” Mrs. Driscoll looked down her crooked nose at him as he walked in.
“You can’t rush nature,” He shrugged, sending a small flurry of giggles through the classroom. Theresa, who’s assigned seat was in the back of the classroom, lucky duck, offered him a smile and a wave.
He had Theresa in a few of his classes, and she waved to him in the lunchroom everyday, so they might be friends. Maybe. Randy had discovered that he really didn’t have much experience with friends outside of Howard, so he wasn’t entirely sure how this was supposed to work. He’d like it though, if they were friends. It was a nice, warm thought.
A warm thought he needed, considering the cold gaze of his desk partner.
“Heyyy Cunningham,” Howard smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile.
“Hey, Howard.” Randy nodded at him, hating how small his voice sounded.
“Now, as I was saying, turn to page twelve in your textbooks,” Mrs. Driscoll ordered.
Randy sighed, pulling his textbook out of his desk, and flipping to the indicated number. Except… there was no page twelve. Page eleven, and page fourteen yes- but no page twelve or thirteen. He bit back a grumble, opening the book as wide as it would go to get a look at the remnants of the ripped out page. A quick glance to his left told him all he needed to know, Howard’s smirk could only mean one thing.
Now then, what to do about it. If he told Mrs. Driscoll that there was a page missing, she’d just tell him to share with Howard. Randy was sure that’s what he was counting on though, so if he didn’t do that, then he’d just have to go through class without the correct page. No big deal, right? Maybe Theresa would lend him her notes or something, if they really were friends.
Actually, was sharing notes something that friends did often? He’d always shared his notes with Howard, but he knew their relationship hadn’t exactly been normal… She’d given him notes before, but that was as a thank you, so would she do it again? When he hadn’t done anything to deserve it?
He really didn’t know how friendship worked, did he.
He rolled his eyes at Howard, before pointedly sticking his nose in his book, wrong page be darned. He may not get a lot of work done, but at least he was avoiding conflict, right? That had to count for something. Those anti bullying seminars he’d had to sit through as a kid would be proud of him.
Mrs. Driscoll gave him a disappointed look as he turned in his worksheet. He’d only filled in the questions he knew the answers to after all, which amounted to two out of fifteen. Whatever. An F on a single worksheet was better than dealing with Howard.
He was out of his seat as soon as the bell rang, his backpack already slung over his shoulder. Next period was Drama, a class he’d specifically decided to take because he knew Howard wouldn’t . In the week he’d had it, it had turned out to be pretty fun, so he was genuinely looking forward to it. Plus…
“Randy, wait up!” Theresa called after him, jogging down the hall to catch up. They shared a Drama period, something Randy was increasingly grateful for after science.
“Hey Theresa,” He slowed down, waving to her as she got closer, falling into step beside him.
“Are you good? Mrs. Dricoll gave you quite the look back there,” She asked, tilting her head and blowing her bangs out of her face.
“I uh, didn’t do well on the worksheet,” Randy winced.
“Was it your seat partner again?” She knit her eyebrows, her fingers worrying at her backpack straps.
“Something like that,” He sighed. He hadn’t exactly told Theresa any of his and Howard’s history, but she did know that he didn’t really get along with him.
“You should really talk to someone about that,” She said, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Maybe,” He shrugged. He doubted any of the NHS teachers had time to worry about petty drama. He knew he didn’t.
“Well… how about something to take your mind off of it?” She grinned, leaning forward a little so he could see her face.
“Yeah?” He blinked.
“There’s a pep rally tonight y’know, to celebrate our first week in school, without any deaths to boot!” She explained, raising a finger to her chin. A bubble of pride rose in Randy’s chest. No deaths . “They’re letting some of the freshmen perform! Including my twirl club, so…!”
“You’re going to be performing tonight?” He finished for her, a smile breaking across his face.
“Yep! Oh, I can’t wait to show off!” She laughed. “I did twirl throughout all of elementary school and middle school back in Tennessee, even the captain was impressed!”
“That’s great Theresa!” He said, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. He hadn’t really been planning on going to the pep rally, Howard’s stray comments were the only thing that had made them fun in middle school, but if Theresa was going to be performing, maybe it would be worth it. “Then I’ll be there, I can’t wait to see you do your thing.”
“You will?” She lit up, pivoting to face him. “Good, I was worried! Who else can I count on to pull me out of harm's way if we get attacked?” She laughed, playfully punching him in the arm.
“Oh uh, right,” Randy said, his smile becoming slightly forced. He hadn’t even considered that the rally might be attacked… of course he needed to show up just in case, Theresa or no Theresa. Well, there went his plans of skipping most school functions ever.
“Well, here we are,” Theresa said, both of them coming to a stop outside the Drama room door. “Do you have your pantomime prepared?”
“Totally,” He lied. He had forgotten entirely, but this didn’t seem that hard to make up on the fly.
“Great!” She grinned, heaving the door open.
So, the pep rally, huh?
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Just as he’d predicted, the pep rally wasn’t all that exciting. People in carp mascots ran around for a bit while a few teachers spoke about the week so far, and gave vague platitudes about ‘school spirit’. He was used to a running commentary by Howard, making fun of the performers, and twisting the teacher’s words into something humorous. He found he didn’t miss the mean spirit of it, but… it would have been nice to have something.
The band started playing, and the twirl team finally took the floor. The music honestly wasn’t great, but that was to be expected really, he could have sworn most of the band kids were freshman. He pursed his lips, remembering a headline from last year. More than half of the NHS band had been killed when their practice room collapsed on top of them. Well, he wouldn’t hold their skill against them, then.
His attention was firmly grabbed as the twirl team started their routine in earnest. Their batons flashed through the air as they moved, dancing in mesmerizing patterns. Theresa was there in the middle, a massive grin on her face as she spun her baton in wide arcs, moving with practiced grace. She looked like she was having the time of her life.
A smile rose to Randy’s lips. Well, if she was having that much fun, then maybe he should try to lighten up some, too.
An incessant, high pitched clinking, ringing sound broke Randy’s train of thought. Most of the eyes in the gym were drawn to the band section, where one kid had stood up, and was, for lack of a better word, jamming out on his triangle . Randy recognized him, that was Bucky Hensletter, a kid who’d been in the same class as Randy pretty much since they were infants. Despite that, he’d never found a reason to talk to him much.
The music slowly ground to a halt as everyone in the band and beyond stared in confused wonderment at the guy trying to make a triangle solo a thing. Randy’s eyes tracked the band teacher as she marched right up to the seats, everything about her body language broadcasting barely restrained anger. Honestly, he couldn’t blame her. He’d spent enough time in Bucky’s general proximity to know what sort of weird shenanigans that kid was constantly getting into.
…He pointedly ignored his own track record. With Howard gone, the number of incidents should go down. He totally still had the moral high ground here.
“You can take my dinger, but you’ll never take my BACK UP DINGER!” Bucky yelled, loud enough the entire gym could hear. He had the small metal dinger clenched tightly in his fists, held above his head like it was precious. To him, it probably was. Before the band director had the chance to take that dinger away from him too, he burst into sobs, and ran from the room.
Randy blinked. Well that was certainly… something. Entertaining, if nothing else. Slowly, the music started up again, and the twirl team resumed their routine. He shrugged, and settled back in to watch Theresa dance.
The pep rally ended shortly after, with all the performers running out through the side doors to change, and the audience beginning to mosey about. Randy stood up, stretching out his shoulders. Y’know, he almost preferred fighting robots to sitting still for that long. Though, he supposed he should be thankful the rally didn’t get attacked.
Well, the sun had just set, and he still had several hours until his ten o’clock curfew. The question now was what he was going to do with that time. Usually, he and Howard would hit the Game Hole after stuff like this, which meant he was not doing that. Before he does anything specific though, he should probably go congratulate Theresa. Her routine had been the highlight of the event.
He slowly began ambling toward the ready rooms, his mind wandering as he walked. Theresa had been really skilled with that baton, the way she’d moved was so fluid… she must have put so much time and effort into that. He’d never had the discipline to do anything like that before. He was good at video games, and… not much else.
He raised a hand to knock on the ready room door, but before he could a huge, booming crash echoed from somewhere down the hall. He froze, his ears filling with screams. His hand clenched into a fist, and he grit his teeth. Congratulating Theresa would have to wait, he had a job to do.
He bolted down the hall, briefly throwing himself into an alcove to pull the mask on. The supernatural energy spread through his limbs as he ran, the smooth fabric of the Ninja suit sliding over his skin. The noise was coming from the band room, they must have still been in there cleaning up. That room had already seen enough tragedy, there wouldn’t be any more if Randy had anything to say about it.
“Smokebomb!”
His feet hit the band room floor as the red mist swirled, drawing the attention of every being present. Band kids were scattered everywhere, cowering and pressing themselves to the walls. The room itself was a mess , covered in powdered drywall and concrete shrapnel, plus several bent and broken instruments. In the middle of it all stood a monster.
It was huge, its head nearly brushing the cracked ceiling. It had strange, distended proportions, and mottled, sickly purple skin. Its eyes were bulging and lifeless, almost flopping around the outside of its head, with needle-like teeth sticking out of its gaping maw. Strangest of all, it was wearing a Norrisville Band uniform, with a familiar flopping yellow feather attached to its hat.
Bucky?
Randy knew that NHS students sometimes randomly mutated into horrific monsters, had even seen one during orientation, but he’d never fought one before, especially not one that used to be someone he knew . Well, first time for everything.
“Ninja! Help!” Some poor band kid squeaked, ducking behind Randy as they ran away from Bucky. Randy nodded briefly, letting the suit guide him into a ready stance.
The Bucky monster roared, heaving an entire piano up into the air over his head. His yellow eyes flopped as he focused on Randy, what was left of his lips curling into a snarl. Ugh , and Randy had thought that the robots were awful, they had nothing on this.
“Drop that piano!” Randy ordered, holding out a finger threateningly. Bucky growled, before throwing it directly at Randy. He barely had time to react, one hand reaching out in front of himself in a vain attempt to catch it, and the other already grabbing for his sword.
The impact hit him like a sack of bricks- or really, like a piano. Only the reflexes and strength granted to him by the suit saved him from cracking his skull open on the band room floor. He shook with effort, holding it up for just enough time to cut himself an escape hole. He kicked away the piano debris, and sat up, gasping for breath.
“Okay, my bad,” He wheezed. “I should have seen that coming.”
Bucky roared again, reaching for the discarded instruments around, before volleying them toward Randy. The good news? These instruments were much less heavy than a piano. The bad news? They were also headed directly for the cowering band kids behind him.
He leapt out of the broken piano, knocking a tuba out of the air with the flat side of his sword. Next was a trumpet, sent out the window, and then a french horn sliced completely in half. It was kind of like baseball… probably. He’d never played baseball.
The next instrument Bucky threw was a shiny silver flute, decorated in stickers and bold pink marker. Randy knew that flute, it was what that braces girl was known for in middle school. No wonder Randy hadn’t been able to remember her name, No one ever called her anything other than ‘Flute Girl’ due to her obsession with the object.
She’d probably be really upset if anything happened to it. Hm.
He sighed, lowering his sword for a moment to catch the flute in a fist. He turned, handing it to a very distressed Flute Girl who was cowering a few paces behind him. Her eyes shone as she took it, holding it gently as if it were made of solid gold.
“Princess Tootie, I almost lost you,” She said, her braces whistling. “Thanks, Ninja,” She looked up at him, tears in her eyes.
“No problem,” Randy nodded, a bubble of something warm rising in his chest, making him smile under the mask.
Bucky snarled, apparently annoyed at being ignored. He reached, his arms almost seeming to stretch to snatch two bassoons from wayward band kids who had been hiding behind debris. He raised the woodwinds as if they were deadly weapons, and charged.
“Hey, you! Cowbell!” Randy pivoted, addressing a shaking kid who happened to be holding a pair of cowbells. “Cowbell me!” The kid blinked, before nodding, and tossing the bells over. Randy caught them easily, the chill of the metal sinking into his gloves.
FIght fire with fire as they say, or in this case, musical instrument with musical instrument.
Bucky swung, and Randy blocked with the bells, over and over again, making for a rather interesting sound. A particularly powerful blow on Bucky’s part sent Randy skidding backwards. He didn’t miss a beat, spinning the cowbells in his hands as he charged forward, using the new distance to gain momentum. He leapt into the air, bringing his improvised weapons down on either side of Bucky’s skull with a loud thump. The monster stumbled back, shaking his head, but didn’t fall.
Randy fell back onto the band room floor, straightening back up to get another look at his opponent. A blow like that one would have knocked any human person out cold, no doubt. Honestly it might have killed a normal person, with the added enhancements of the suit. So then, if it had barely done anything here, what exactly was he supposed to do?
“Okay Bucky, Here’s a question,” Randy said, eyes tracing over his grotesque form. Bucky actually seemed to pause, apparently listening. “What exactly is going on here? In… this general area?” Randy asked, waving a cowbell at him.
As he spoke, gel pen doodles, just like the ones he’d witnessed inside the Ninja Nomicon, drew themselves into existence, forming question marks around Bucky before dropping to the floor and vanishing. His eyes widened, but he tried not to react. No one else had… was this something only he could see?
Bucky leaned forward, looming large over Randy’s head. He clutched the cowbells tight, ready to attack. Bucky’s wide maw opened, and… he began to speak.
“If I can’t play triangle in the band, then no one will!” He yelled, spitting in Randy’s face as he did. His voice came out low and distorted, threaded through with inhuman sounds, but… that was still definitely Bucky’s voice. Weird .
“But… My no showboating policy! He was showboating, you all saw it!” The band teacher managed, and Randy honestly had to commend her for bravery if not intelligence. She’d been here long enough for things like this to stop being such a big deal.
Bucky screamed, rearing back and spraying spittle across the room. He lashed out, his large clawed hand crashing into a set of shelves that had thus far survived the conflict. It started to fall, overbalancing from the hit. Randy’s heart leapt into his throat as he saw a kid who had been hiding under those very shelves, now about to be crushed.
He dashed over, managing to catch it just before the kid met their fate. Still, this thing was heavy , and the kid was shaking, staring at him with wide, blank eyes. He was too scared to move. Randy hissed through his teeth, his arms straining with effort to keep the shelves up.
“Someone grab him!” Randy yelled, and a couple of other band kids dashed in and yanked the kid out of harm's way, just before Randy’s legs gave out. The shelves came down on him instead, pinning him to the ground. He ignored the throbbing in his shoulders, and punched a hole straight through the wood, jumping back into the open.
He glared at Bucky, and Bucky glared right back… before turning on his mutated heel and making a break for it. He jumped straight through a wall, sending a cloud of drywall everywhere, and disappearing into the night.
It was quiet. Moments ago the room had been filled with cacophony, and now… everything was quiet. Bucky had just.. Left . He wasn’t aware that monsters did that. Now Randy had to go looking for him to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone else. Darn , there went his plans to talk to Theresa.
A piece of the ceiling broke away, falling to the floor with a crash, and startling everyone in the room out of their shock. Several kids started crying.
“Yeah, uh, you guys should probably evacuate,” Randy said, blinking around at the devastation. The band teacher was nodding, already herding the students closest to her toward the exit. He did one last glance around, focusing on the victims this time. No bodies , that was good, though he did see one girl with a nasty gash in her shoulder. She already had a friend helping her out of the room, so she’d probably be fine. With that confirmed… “Smokebomb!”
Instead of retreating out of the attack area and removing the mask like he so desperately wished he could, Randy stretched in the red smoke, and dashed for the hole Bucky had made. It was his responsibility to defeat the monster, so he was going to defeat the monster… even if he’d really wanted to talk to Theresa.
Whatever. There was always tomorrow.