Overcoming the Sadness
Aug. 4th, 2025 03:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/SMT Devil Summoner Raidou Kuzunoha (Will of the Yatagarasu)
Summary: Xander's insecurities rear their head.
Word Count: 740
Rating: Teen
He doesn’t expect it when he’s joined yet again on an early morning jog. No questions are asked. No greetings are exchanged. They might as well just be two kids who like athletics. Or, well, seemingly, in Xander’s case. It’s not like he actually wants to do any of this stuff, but he likes being the Devil Summoner, so he has to keep in shape. “You, um. You don’t have to join me.”
Oz shrugs. “I know.”
It’s said so simply that Xander doesn’t know how to react, so he just stays quiet.
Oz glances over. “Is that a problem?”
“Problem? No, no problem-shaped things here. I just. This is new. Not unwelcome. But new.” Great, he’s babbling now, but to be fair this just...doesn’t happen, that anyone, much less a cool senior with a band and every reason to stay far away from Xander and all his issues, would actually want to hang out. Especially when he’d thought he’d screwed up the other day. Yeah, okay, so he’s got a fresh coat of paint and nobody remembers the Harrises, but still. It’s weird.
“He seems human enough to me,” Nix confirms, probably, humiliating as it is, sensing his Summoner’s agitation.
The senior’s talking at the same time, making it hard to concentrate, but Xander thinks he catches most of it. “You have friends. Willow, and.” Oz pauses briefly to think. “Buffy?”
“Yeah, but.” God, why do his insecurities need to pop up now? Sure, Oz is staring at him now, confused and a little concerned, but once he finishes talking Oz will have all the evidence he needs that never mind the shiny new name and title, Xander is just a pathetic loser and always will be. But—on the other hand, he’s. Well, he’s not a stranger, but better he have an up-front warning. Like those peanuts warnings. Better than him sticking around and getting disappointed later on. “I don’t know if I’m just convenient.”
The frown hurts. Xander’s sure he’s going to be alone, in a minute, but...that minute never comes. Oz just sits down in the middle of the trail.
“I don’t understand,” Xander admits helplessly, slowing his pace.
Oz pats the ground next to him. Well, okay, that wasn’t the reaction Xander was expecting at all. He tries not to burst into tears as he sits. Honestly, without the recent training on discipline, he probably would’ve already been bawling.
And then Oz just...listens. Quiet. That’s his default, but it’s not the judgmental quiet or dangerous kind of quiet, the kind that comes before a beating. It might be supportive quiet? Xander might have to get fluent in Oz’s types of quiet, just like he’s become fluent in Willow Babble and Giles Sarcasm and Tea and the way Buffy dances around problems the way he does.
“I just.” How to put it without giving too much away? “Willow’s been my friend since forever, and she’s kind of a creature of habit. She doesn’t like to change things up. And I’m useful. For stuff like saving the civilian, like we did.”
He’s not sure, though, why he would have ever thought Oz of all people would rush him or judge him for not responding quickly enough, when he’s thinking his response through. “People aren’t good enough to suffer just to be nice.”
Xander wants to argue. His friends are just that good and selfless, he wants to say—but it clashes with what he knows about the world. They’d be nice in class and maybe at lunch, but they wouldn’t invite him to things or willingly hang out with him. It’d been convincing enough when it’d been in his head, but convenience or usefulness wasn’t enough to deal with him at his absolute worst, huh. “So you’re getting something out of this too, huh?”
That had been a hint, but Oz just ignores it, smiling and shrugging nonchalantly instead.
Time to slice right to the heart of the matter. “...You maybe wanna clue me in on what it is?”
Okay, this particular pause is a show. Probably. “Nope.” Almost definitely, actually.
“Aw, come on,” Xander whines, aware, suddenly, that he’s being kind of a pain again—but Oz doesn’t so much as even flinch. He just stands, holding out a hand to help Xander up. It’s nice and warm and strong.
“You’ll figure it out,” Oz declares, with more faith than anyone’s had in Xander in years.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/SMT Devil Summoner Raidou Kuzunoha (Will of the Yatagarasu)
Summary: Xander's insecurities rear their head.
Word Count: 740
Rating: Teen
He doesn’t expect it when he’s joined yet again on an early morning jog. No questions are asked. No greetings are exchanged. They might as well just be two kids who like athletics. Or, well, seemingly, in Xander’s case. It’s not like he actually wants to do any of this stuff, but he likes being the Devil Summoner, so he has to keep in shape. “You, um. You don’t have to join me.”
Oz shrugs. “I know.”
It’s said so simply that Xander doesn’t know how to react, so he just stays quiet.
Oz glances over. “Is that a problem?”
“Problem? No, no problem-shaped things here. I just. This is new. Not unwelcome. But new.” Great, he’s babbling now, but to be fair this just...doesn’t happen, that anyone, much less a cool senior with a band and every reason to stay far away from Xander and all his issues, would actually want to hang out. Especially when he’d thought he’d screwed up the other day. Yeah, okay, so he’s got a fresh coat of paint and nobody remembers the Harrises, but still. It’s weird.
“He seems human enough to me,” Nix confirms, probably, humiliating as it is, sensing his Summoner’s agitation.
The senior’s talking at the same time, making it hard to concentrate, but Xander thinks he catches most of it. “You have friends. Willow, and.” Oz pauses briefly to think. “Buffy?”
“Yeah, but.” God, why do his insecurities need to pop up now? Sure, Oz is staring at him now, confused and a little concerned, but once he finishes talking Oz will have all the evidence he needs that never mind the shiny new name and title, Xander is just a pathetic loser and always will be. But—on the other hand, he’s. Well, he’s not a stranger, but better he have an up-front warning. Like those peanuts warnings. Better than him sticking around and getting disappointed later on. “I don’t know if I’m just convenient.”
The frown hurts. Xander’s sure he’s going to be alone, in a minute, but...that minute never comes. Oz just sits down in the middle of the trail.
“I don’t understand,” Xander admits helplessly, slowing his pace.
Oz pats the ground next to him. Well, okay, that wasn’t the reaction Xander was expecting at all. He tries not to burst into tears as he sits. Honestly, without the recent training on discipline, he probably would’ve already been bawling.
And then Oz just...listens. Quiet. That’s his default, but it’s not the judgmental quiet or dangerous kind of quiet, the kind that comes before a beating. It might be supportive quiet? Xander might have to get fluent in Oz’s types of quiet, just like he’s become fluent in Willow Babble and Giles Sarcasm and Tea and the way Buffy dances around problems the way he does.
“I just.” How to put it without giving too much away? “Willow’s been my friend since forever, and she’s kind of a creature of habit. She doesn’t like to change things up. And I’m useful. For stuff like saving the civilian, like we did.”
He’s not sure, though, why he would have ever thought Oz of all people would rush him or judge him for not responding quickly enough, when he’s thinking his response through. “People aren’t good enough to suffer just to be nice.”
Xander wants to argue. His friends are just that good and selfless, he wants to say—but it clashes with what he knows about the world. They’d be nice in class and maybe at lunch, but they wouldn’t invite him to things or willingly hang out with him. It’d been convincing enough when it’d been in his head, but convenience or usefulness wasn’t enough to deal with him at his absolute worst, huh. “So you’re getting something out of this too, huh?”
That had been a hint, but Oz just ignores it, smiling and shrugging nonchalantly instead.
Time to slice right to the heart of the matter. “...You maybe wanna clue me in on what it is?”
Okay, this particular pause is a show. Probably. “Nope.” Almost definitely, actually.
“Aw, come on,” Xander whines, aware, suddenly, that he’s being kind of a pain again—but Oz doesn’t so much as even flinch. He just stands, holding out a hand to help Xander up. It’s nice and warm and strong.
“You’ll figure it out,” Oz declares, with more faith than anyone’s had in Xander in years.
