There has been an exponential increase in Zodiarts attacks on the school since the Fourze Driver came into use.
For this Kengo blames Kisaragi Gentaro, as apparently even monsters aren’t above the need to prove themselves against an idiot in a costume. Whilst logic tells him the rate of attack is increasing because of The Hole activating, it’s easier to blame Kisaragi. If it weren’t for the fact that it should’ve been him, Kengo would almost be grateful at the rate Zodiarts are being beaten and their switches destroyed.
But the only way Kisaragi will earn gratitude from him is on bended knee, admitting that Kengo is so much better than him at everything, and therefore Kengo doesn’t have to worry about it ever happening.
If occasionally fantasising about that magical day when Kisaragi stops doing unnecessary things and kneels before him means he has to go off to Moonbase Rabbit Hutch to have a headache more often than usual, well, no-one else has to know.
Or at least no-one else would know if Kisaragi weren’t constantly there at the base.
Kengo still can’t believe an idiot like that can work as hard as him to master things, spending hours at a time learning to control the switches and training to make his use of the Fourze Driver as efficient as possible.
(Kengo’s sure that’s not how he would put it. Kisaragi would make a big speech about hard work being good for the soul and end it with ‘Friendship’! Kengo hates that the thought has even crossed his mind.)
Not that a decent work ethic changes his opinion of Kisaragi in any way, once an idiot, always an idiot, and the Kamen Rider Club is perfect proof of that.
After chasing off Kazashiro again so he can get some work done on the switches in peace, Kengo rounds on the one responsible for his quiet hideaway turning into a circus.
“You! Stop bringing people here!”
Kisaragi smiles at him like it’s all a joke and claps him on the shoulder, almost sending him flying out of the chair.
“Don’t worry about it so much! We’re all friends here, Kengo,” Kisaragi says and Kengo resists the urge to slam him against the wall even as a sense of familiarity washes over them.
It’s become something of a running argument, albeit one Kengo can’t indulge in when Yuki and lately Kazashiro-san are there to interrupt; Yuki just scolds and separates them as if they’re children, whereas Kazashiro would inevitably join in the fight, her sense of entitlement bringing out the worst in Yuki and it would spiral into another one of their glaring contests.
“Don’t say my name so casually,” Kengo tells him for the seventeenth time this week, and, “Who says we’re friends?”
“Such an obstinate guy,” Kisaragi sighs.
Kengo wants to lock him out the next time he goes out onto the moon for training so he doesn’t have to look at his face.
Kisaragi interrupts his thought process with a smile and Kengo decides to hate that as much as he hates the rest of him.
“-but I like that about you.”
Kengo feels his heart beat faster and wonders if it’s a sign of an oncoming headache.
“What are you saying?” Kengo sneers, spinning his chair round to stare at his computer screen and will the heat from his cheeks. Was it hotter in here than normal? He’d run a diagnostic on the heating system.
“Shouldn’t you be out practising?” he asked when Kisaragi just stood there looking forlorn.
And just like that Kengo feels something in his chest relax. He watches the reflection on the display screen as Kisaragi transforms and the usual gnaw of jealousy doesn’t feel as strong.
“Keep the radar on,” Kengo says when he’s about to leave. “I’ve got some ideas for improving Limit Break’s accuracy.”
Somehow even through Fourze’s visage he can feel Kisaragi’s grin.
“Idiot,” he mutters and ignores the way his lips quirk up in response.