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Not for the first time, you were thankful of how large Himejima was.
He blocked out everything, the light, the doorway, Shinazugawa's glare...
Peering cautiously past Himejima's bulk, you met the sharp eyes of the Math teacher. You flickered your gaze back to the table immediately, trying to desperately act as if you never noticed him staring.
In your defence, you never thought he'd get this angry over it. You only ate one of his strawberry daifuku, and that was only because he'd been complaining about having to eat them at all! A generous student's mother had given him an entire bag full of them; you didn't think he'd miss one.
Slowly, you lean back in your chair slinking fully into Himejima's shadow and out of Shinazugawa's line of sight. You had to stretch out your hands awkwardly to mark papers at this angle, but its worth it to stop feeling that burning glare on your skin.
From over the other side of the room, you could hear Shinazugawa's chair scrape as he moved, and all of a sudden, you felt that piercing gaze on you again.
Did he re-position himself... Just to glare at you?
You were so fucked.
"You should try a peace offering," came Tomioka's mild suggestion. At your silence, he tries again. "It worked for me," he says, half shrugging.
You remember a specific instance where Tomioka had tried this very method to stop Shinazugawa's angry tirade during a particularly tense teacher's meeting (hereby referred to by traumatised witnesses as 'The Incident'). The two of them had ended up in an all out brawl, the bear shaped cupcake Tomioka had offered ending up half squished under his sneakers, with the other half smeared all over Shinazugawa's tight tailored trousers.
Probably sensing what you were thinking of, Tomioka opened his mouth again, perhaps to defend his suggestion before he was smoothly cut off by Kanae.
"He's got a point!" she says, clapping her hands together in excitement. "After all, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach! You should make him something."
You frown at her.
She goes on, pointedly ignoring your deep frown of disapproval. "How about ohagi? I'm sure you know how to make some, you're the Home Economics teacher after all."
You frown even harder. "Kanae-san, he'll kill me."
She smiles, and there's something mysterious that twinkles behind her eyes that scares you. "He won't if it tastes nice."
Perhaps for better or worse, you take up their suggestions. You don't have any better ideas anyway.
You spent a lonely afternoon working on your sweets in the empty Home Economics classroom, crafting your ohagi. You'd never admit it, but you took Kanae's words seriously. If you were sure of anything, it was your cooking skills. You could've been a chef if you weren't so intent on teaching rowdy children the finer art of home cooked cuisine.
If Shinazugawa didn't like your ohagi your heart might never survive the insult.
At Kanae's encouragement the next day, you began your long walk to find Shinazugawa, with all the heavy countenance of a soldier off to war.
You find him brisk walking through the third year's corridor, probably on his way back to the staff room for lunch. He looked as hard to approach as ever, face set in stony contemplation, arm raised to prop his file up on his shoulder, biceps bulging through his tight shirt.
Hesitantly, you call after him, the nicely wrapped bag of ohagi clutched tightly in your clammy hands. To your surprise, he stops immediately, head swinging to you so fast he might have gotten whiplash.
"What?" he asks, eyes wide and intense, burning right through you. Uncomfortable by the full force of his attention, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and you break eye contact. Lowering your gaze, you are instead greeted by a full view of his scarred pectorals, courtesy of the ever open shirt. You raise your gaze back to his face immediately, not wanting to be caught staring.
"Um," you begin, holding out the packet of food, feeling for all intents and purposes like a blushing schoolgirl talking to her crush. Thank god all of the students had already left for the cafeteria. "This is for you."
He takes it, eyes widening as he examines the treats through the see-through plastic packaging. He's unusually quiet. "Sorry for eating your daifuku,"you grind out, and his eyes snap back to you.
His face twists, eyebrow cocked. "You ate my daifuku?" he asks, confusion laced in his voice.
"You didn't realise?" you ask, incredulous.
Shinazugawa scowls in response. "Why would I care if you ate it? You can have the entire bag if you want."
"Then, why are you angry with me?" At that, Shinazugawa splutters, and you watch as his cheeks tinge with colour.
"I'm not mad at you," he snaps, eyebrows furrowed angrily at you.
Pursing your lips, you decide to let that one go. Shinazugawa continues to glare at you for a moment longer, before blurting out a harsh "whatever," and stalking off.
You stand in the empty hallway, dumbfounded. He didn't even thank you for the food! But then again, he did say he wasn't angry at you so... You'll still consider this a win.
Shinazugawa doesn't speak another word to you for the rest of the day, but the heated glares stop as well so you won't complain.
The next morning has you breathing easier. No longer did you feel Shinazugawa's fevered gaze trained on your back. No longer did you risk catching his eye in a crowd, far too intense for a mere glance. No longer did he force himself into the seat in front of you at lunch and glare at you instead of eating his food.
It was actually feeling far too peaceful for you. Like a fire doused with water, the sudden change in Shinazugawa's attitude left you feeling surprisingly dour.
You barely even see him anymore, a startling change from when he seemed to be everywhere you looked. If you didn't know better, yo'd think he was avoiding you.
The thought made you a little bit sad.
You didn't mean to create a rift with him. You just wanted to be friends! Maybe. Even you didn't know what you wanted. You wanted to get along with your colleague, you wanted it to be more than just long looks from the other side of the room, more than just wordless glares. You wanted to know just what his problem with you was.
The more you thought about it, the angrier you got.
Stupid Shinazugawa, with his stupid hair, and his stupid handsome face, and perfect abs and-
Whatever. It's not like you cared anyway.
That's exactly what you tell a very bored Tomioka at lunch that day, as he chews dismally through a mouthful of rice.
"Hm," is all he says to your ranting, and continues shoveling rice into his face. Rengoku also ignores your griping, likely not even hearing you over his own exclamations of "Delicious!" as he steadily makes his way through his fifth bowl of ramen. You guys were the only ones at the teacher's table with Uzui holed up in the infirmary with burnt fingers from his latest explosion attempt, Himejima spending the lunch hour counseling (reprimanding) some of the problem kids, and the rest scattered somewhere or another.
You wished that Kanae were here to vent to. No sooner did you think that did the lady herself walk into the cafeteria, deep in conversation with a pensive looking Shinazugawa. Walking towards the table, Kanae catches your eye and sends a quick smile your way, never once stopping whatever it was she was telling the Math teacher. You hear Shinazugawa click his tongue in annoyance at her as they drew close. Spotting you and Tomioka, he gives the latter a particularly withering glare, and glances away quickly when you meet his eye. Not breaking stride, he stalks past the teacher's table, to sit in-between a surprised Genya and an absolutely horror struck Zenitsu.
Inwardly, you offer the boy your condolences.
Kanae gives you a knowing smile as she takes her seat beside you, leisurely unpacking her homemade bento.
"So how did it go?" she asks finally, offering you a piece of her tamagoyaki.
"Terrible," you reply grumpily, accepting the egg and immediately shoving it in your mouth. "He hates me even more now."
Kanae hums thoughtfully in reply. "I don't think he hates you."
You deadpan her a look. "He hasn't said a word to me all day. He won't even look at me." At that Kanae snickers, trying and failing to hide her smile behind her chopsticks. You raise an eyebrow at her questioningly.
"You seem surprisingly upset at that! After all that you've complained about being looked at too much before," she says in-between bouts of tinkling laughter.
You can't help the immediate flush at her words. "I wasn't being looked at! I was being glared at!"
"Uh huh," she agrees teasingly, pretty pink eyes alight with amusement. Feeling the heat creep up your neck at the implication, you turn away from her with a huff.
Your reaction just served to amuse her more, and she pats your back consolingly. After her laughter dies down, she speaks again, voice gentle. "If you want him to speak to you, why don't you try talking to him first?"
You fight the childish need to pout. "No way. He can hate me if he wants, I don't care."
Behind your back, Kanae and Tomioka share a tired look.
Your dismal mood carried throughout the day, even inciting the concern of some of your more perceptive students (mainly Tanjiro). You sigh as you set your stack of collected homework on your desk, drained from your own whirlwind of emotions the last few days. You'll tackle it tomorrow.
You're so wrapped up in yourself that it takes you a while to notice that you're the last person left in the staff room. With a single glance to the dark skies outside, you rummage through your bag and desk for your umbrella.
You can't find it, probably having left it to dry out on your balcony the night before. Silently ruing your own forgetfulness, you resolved to just make a dash for it with your windbreaker as a makeshift cover. Luckily it was late enough that most if not all of the students were already home and wouldn't bear witness to their teacher fighting the rain.
Pulling open the door, you step out and knock promptly into something hard in the darkened hallway. Before you can draw back with a shriek, the something speaks. "You're still here?" the voice asks, and you peer through the dim lighting to see Shinazugawa staring down at you.
"Yeah I had some.. Stuff to do," you mumble, taking a step back from him. "Why are you still here?"
Shinazugawa's eyes, no less intense than before, searches you for a second before he glances away again. "Its raining. Do you have an umbrella?" he says finally, choosing apparently, to completely gloss over your question.
You shake your head in response, wondering why he was suddenly talking to you. He cocked his head sharply, a universal sign for follow me. Turning, he ambles down the hallway calling out a casual, "you can share mine," as he goes.
Your pride begged you to protest, but the larger, traitorous part of you willed yourself to go along with it, following him down the dim empty hallways to the school entrance. You say nothing on your way down, the strange awkward tension of the situation settling into your bones and keeping you from looking at him. Ever so often you feel his burning gaze settle on you, but he glances away just as quickly.
As it turns out, Shinazugawa's umbrella wasn't that big. It wasn't tiny, but it certainly wasn't big enough for the two of you to share without one of you getting wet. The man himself shoots you a pointed look and you take it as a hint not to mention that.
Pressed against his arm, you tried desperately not to think about how your fingertips brushed against his as you two walked, squeezed awkwardly under the umbrella.
The sun would have barely gone down at this time, but it was so dark out it might as well have been night. It was also ridiculously cold out, a fact that you only realised now that you had a warm body tucked against you. As the rain came down heavier, you felt a shiver rack through you, and you involuntarily press yourself into the warmth of Shinazugawa's arm.
You feel him stiffen, and realising that, you try to move away, getting your shoulder immediately soaked through with rain. Shinazugawa clicks his tongue in annoyance, wrapping his arm around you and drawing you in close. "You're gonna get wet, idiot," he muttered, but there was no heat behind his words. Instead, all the world's heat seemed to be concentrated in his arm, wrapped tightly around you, comfortably warm.
Your face was burning. Utterly gobsmacked by the situation, you couldn't bring yourself to say a word, hell, you couldn't even look at him right now. The rain was thankfully loud enough to drown out the beating of your own heart as you two made your way down to the station, half cuddled into his side. You were pretty sure his arm was getting wet from how it was shielding you from the rain, but Shinazugawa didn't say a word, so you didn't either.
The station was as busy as ever, filled with bedraggled people running for their trains. Shinazugawa dropped his arm from you the minute you two were under the station's shelter. Wordlessly, he began folding the umbrella. Somehow you felt that if you spoke now, it would break the strange tension that has followed you two since leaving the school. And for some reason, you didn't want that to happen. So you stand, watching as he folds his umbrella, slowly, and he stands, feeling your eyes on him, close enough for him to smell the shampoo off your hair.
Shinazugawa breaks the silence first.
"Wanna get something to eat?" he asks, tossing his bag over his shoulder and giving you a great view of his rolling biceps.
"What?" you reply, intelligently.
"Eat. Let's go eat," he says, beckoning you to follow him as he makes his way over to one of the small hole in the wall eateries that line the inside of the station. Not wanting to turn down this rare show of friendliness, and even less wanting to part from him, you follow along.
The two of you squeeze into the tiny plastic benches of a damp smelling Mcdonalds. Seated in front of you, the chairs were close enough that your knees bumped against Shinazugawa's, but that wasn't what you were focused on. Shinazugawa was smiling.
He looked like he was trying to hide it too, propping his elbow up on the backrest and resting his hand oh so causally against his mouth. You never thought he'd like Mcdonalds this much.
"What do you wanna get?" Shinazugawa asked, "I'm buying."
"Uhh," you scan the menu quickly, before telling him your order. You were more than a little flustered with the sudden 180 in your relationship with this man. He went from angry, to ignoring you, to walking with you in the rain, to now treating you to food? He felt like a hurricane and you can't catch up.
Distantly, you thought about what Kanae said about "talking".
Shinazugawa sets down the tray of greasy fries and burgers with a clack, startling you out of your reverie. He motions for you to take one, still looking far too pleased about being stuffed into a plastic seat with damp clothes and a tray full of fried food. He's got a lovely, pleasant smile on, and its a jarring difference from his usual irritable glowers and sinister smirks. It makes him look gentle.
You help yourself to the food, and spurred on by Shinazugawa's content expression, you decided to bite the bullet. "So, why did you come back to the staff room?"
The effect is instantaneous. Shinazugawa chokes on his burger, nearly upsetting his soda as he tries to wash it down. You stare, unsure weather to laugh or be genuinely concerned. His face is red now, and you're not sure if its because of the choking, or whatever possibly embarrassing thing he's about to say.
"I came back because Kochou told me you were probably still around," he muttered, eyebrows furrowing as if daring you to contest what he says.
Confused, you point at yourself. "Me? Why me?"
"Because you don't have an umbrella, idiot."
"How did you know I didn't have an umbrella?"
"Because it always sticks out at the end of your tiny ass bag, and I didn't see it there toda-" Shinazugawa cuts himself off, eyes widening in the realisation that he had maybe said too much.
"Wow, you're really perceptive Shinazugawa-san," you say, somewhat awestruck. Shingazugawa flushes an even darker red, the colour of his burning cheeks vibrant against his pale hair. You can't help but smile at the display. "Thank you," you say honestly, "you're a really nice person. I can't imagine anyone else coming all the way back to the office just to help their colleague."
Shinazugawa gawks at you, the embarrassment on his face shifting to something nearing incredulity. "You-" he begins, voice halting as if he's trying to reign in his emotions. "You're such a fucking idiot."
You draw back, offended. And just when you thought you guys were finally getting along. "Excuse me?"
"Yeah, you're an idiot," Shinazugawa says, his voice growing louder with agitation with every word. "You think I'd go all the way back there for just anybody? You think I'm just trying to be nice?"
You leant back as far as you could in the tiny seat, very confused about Shinazugawa's mounting anger, and very uncomfortable about the stares the two of you were getting. "Uh... Weren't you...?"
"No!" he snarls, slapping a hand to his forehead.
"Oh. Uh, then why-"
"I LIKE YOU, YOU IDIOT," Shinazugawa snaps, slamming his hand down on the table, with a resounding smack.
Ok now, everyone was staring.
Oh my god.
Shinazugawa hides his face in his hand, either from embarrassment, exasperation, or a mixture of both. Hesitantly, you reach towards him to pat his arm for comfort. He grabs your hand, lightning fast, before you could touch him, and the sudden warmth of his touch makes you jump. "You thought I hated you? Why? What the fuck did I do wrong? Kanae was all like 'maybe you're being too intense' so I tried to stop looking at you so much, but then you looked sad anyway so fuck Kanae's advice and-" You reach out and set a hand over his mouth, effectively stopping him to the disappointed murmurs from the gossip hungry Mcdonalds customers, cuing in onto your drama.
In any case, you didn't think your heart could take any more of these sudden revelations. You were sure your face was just as red as his, or even more so. "I'm sorry," you whisper, voice wavering. "I totally didn't realise. Guess I really am an idiot huh?"
Shinazugawa's eyes widened. Peeling your hand gently away from his mouth, he shook his head ferociously. "No, you're not. Don't- You're not an idiot. You're just too fucking dense about this kind of stuff." His grip on your hand tightened to a comforting squeeze. "But I like that about you anyway."
"Wha- you do?"
"Yeah. I like a lot of things about you."
"Really?"
"You're a really fucking good cook too."
You blush even harder at that, unable to stop the smug smile on your face. You knew no one could resist your ohagi! Shinazugawa gives an endeared, lopsided smile at your expression.
"Make that for me again sometime."
"Oh, sure!" you say, smiling back at him. To your surprise, he rolls his eyes.
"Don't make them if you, ya know, don't wanna or something," he says softly, and you catch what he means for once.
"Hey! I don't make ohagi for just anybody you know!"
Shinazugawa continues to hold your hand as the two of you leave the Mcdonalds, and you let him, the two of you blushing and smiling like misbehaving teenagers.
Behind you, someone wolf whistles at the two of you, and someone else cheers, probably having sat through the entire of the two of your very vocal confession scene.
At that Sanemi whips around, teeth bared and ready to fight whichever poor soul it was. Urgently, you tug on his hand, hoping to prevent a McMassacre. Surprisingly, he allows you to lead him out obediently, but he still keeps turning back to shoot the other customers death glares as he goes.
You sigh to yourself, unable to stop the amused smile creeping up on your face. Just what did you get yourself into?