Chapter Text
There’s no lunch bell at Hope’s Peak, which Amami finds jarring after all the TV shows he’s watched that take place in an academic setting. (He says it that way because he’s never actually been in formal schooling before prior to attending Hope’s Peak. He always traveled too much when he was younger to keep with any kind of school schedule so he had a tutor, and then what with his sisters getting lost he’s barely had any time for academics at all; it’s really a good thing that Hope’s Peak doesn’t judge you by anything other than your practical or Amami would be capital-F Fucked.)
...At any rate, there’s no bell. Sensei sort of just glances at the clock around lunchtime and then dismisses the class to go to the dining hall, and it seems as though Sensei has a pretty consistently reliable inner clock so they’ve been doing just fine thus far. That being said, it’s an inconvenience for one real reason, and that being--
“Saihara-kun?” Amami’s desk is right behind Saihara’s, so it wasn’t hard for him to notice, as he began packing up his bags, that the other boy hasn’t moved since Sensei dismissed them. He’s slumped forward on the desk, it looks like, his hat pulled down over his face, his arms tucked underneath his head. His shoulders are rising and falling pretty steadily, even more so than they would be if Saihara was awake right now, Amami is willing to bet, so it’s not much of a reach to assume that he’s asleep. It’s a little bit concerning, though, if only because in the past month or so of the school year, Amami’s never really taken Saihara to be the type to sleep in class.
Then again, Amami’s been absent so often for his travels, maybe there’s a lot of sleepy days that he’s missed. Regardless, Amami swings his bag over his shoulder and pads over to Saihara’s desk, crouching down in front of it. Most of the class has already cleared out by now, save for Akamatsu, who is lingering at the door, her gaze fixed on Saihara. When she moves it, though, she makes eye contact with Amami, seems to hesitate for another moment, and then breaks into a smile, waving at him and winking before she slips on out.
Right, okay, Akamatsu-san. Amami is going to try not to question whatever that was. He turns back to look at Saihara’s sleeping form, tilting his head to the side a bit. From this angle, and from what Amami can see of his face under his hat, Saihara seems quite peaceful. His expression is free of the creases and wrinkles that would be in it usually, whether from anxiety or from some other outside issue, Amami doesn’t know in particular. But he looks younger like this, less haunted.
It’s a good look, actually. Though Amami is pretty sure Saihara would be mortified if he found out Amami was looking at him like this after being given his best friend’s blessing. Amami chuckles a little at the thought, but then eventually decides he’d better get serious, and reaches out to rest a hand on Saihara’s shoulder, gently rousing him.
“Saihara-kun, it’s time for lunch,” he murmurs, and the sleepy little noise that Saihara makes in response warms Amami’s chest. Amami feels himself smile, watching Saihara’s eyelashes flutter under the brim of his hat. He’s cute! It’s like watching a kitten come out of consciousness, actually. Saihara grumbles a little bit as he straightens himself up, and his hat is slightly crooked and his face is a little bit red on the side where he rested it on his arm, and damn, this boy is cute. Okay. Rad.
Saihara blinks at him for a moment, his grey eyes a bit vague and still clouded with sleep, his forehead wrinkled a little bit, but then his vision seems to focus and he lets out a little gasp, his cheeks immediately turning a bit red, and reaches up to grip the brim of his hat. He adjusts it on his head, averting his gaze, his fingers curling up and staying there.
“Hey,” Amami greets, retracting his hand from Saihara’s shoulder and giving him a relaxed smile. “Sorry to wake you, you looked pretty peaceful there.”
“Ah,” Saihara hums, biting his lip. He tugs on his cap, gaze trailing the wall beside them before returning to Amami. (Not that Amami can actually meet his eyes, what with the way that hat is pulled down.) “It’s alright, I don’t mind,” he smiles sheepishly, tilting his head a bit. “I’m surprised I fell asleep-- or, well, not surprised, but… I would’ve preferred if I hadn’t, I think.” Saihara’s smile turns a touch wry. It’s a very attractive look on him.
“I’m sure Sensei doesn’t mind, or she would’ve woken you,” Amami reassures, resting his elbows on his knees and propping his face up in the palms of his hands. This is an easy position, considering that Amami is currently crouching directly in front of Saihara’s desk. “I saw a show once where a teacher woke a student by throwing chalk at them. Is that a thing that actually happens? Because there’s chalk up there that she could’ve used.”
Saihara looks at him for a moment, and then laughs. “Not at any schools I’ve been to, but I’m sure the trope has to come from somewhere,” he says, sounding amused. He pauses, for a moment, looking at Amami more curiously. “Uhm, what time did you say it was? Sorry, I wasn’t entirely conscious when you said it.”
“No worries,” Amami smiles. “It’s lunchtime. That’s why the classroom is empty, now, but don’t worry, I didn’t let you just sleep here for too long. Lunch just started.”
“Thank you,” Saihara says, eventually lowering his hand to the desk. “Uhm, both for that and for staying behind to wake me up, I wouldn’t want to keep you back when there’s food you could be eating right now.”
“Well, to be fair,” Amami tilts his head, “if it hadn’t been me, it would’ve been Akamatsu-san, so it’s really just choose your normie by this point.” Saihara laughs again, and Amami thinks he might compare that sound to a wind chime, a pure-sounding tintinnabulation in the middle of autumn. Autumn is a good season to associate with Saihara, actually. He has a cool disposition, but not a cold one; not in the way that someone who identifies more with winter would have. Autumn is Amami’s favourite season, actually. “Really, don’t sweat it. Wouldn’t want you to miss out either. Get enough sleep last night?”
“Mmm,” Saihara stands, starting to pack up his belongings for lunch. Afternoon classes are in the courtyard, today-- in light of the fact that it’s getting closer to summertime-- so they’re all taking their bags with them to lunch. It’ll be a little crowded in there, probably, with all their belongings, but hey. Leas the dining hall is pretty big. Take that, claustrophobia. “Not really,” Saihara admits, after a moment, slipping his bag over his shoulder. “I was working on a case and I suppose I lost track of time. Not that I ever really go to bed all that early, but I think I was awake until five in the morning last night.”
Amami winces. He’s had his own fair share of all-nighters and they always suck, whether or not they’re brought on by a plane ride. “Ouch.”
“Aha, yeah,” Saihara fiddles with a small music note charm on his bag; likely a gift from Akamatsu. It’s silver, and compliments the dark colour nicely. It reminds Amami of Saihara’s eyes, actually. (The pin, that is, not the bag.) “It’s alright. I think I might miss out on class this afternoon in favour of getting some rest.” He pushes in his chair and starts towards the door, so Amami stands himself up and follows, reaching out to grab the door for him.
“Gonna head straight back to your room?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. Saihara turns to look at him for a moment, humming softly.
“Ah, that was the plan, but,” he frowns a little, “why do you ask?”
“Can I grab you some lunch from the dining hall then and take it to you? Wanna make sure you’re eating properly, even if I do think you should be catching up on that sleep debt.” Amami smiles. “Helps with the fatigue, y’know?”
Saihara lets out another little hum, raising his eyebrows at Amami. “Are you sure? You’ve already missed a bit of lunch hanging back here with me, I don’t want you to have to…” he trails off, perhaps seeing how wry Amami’s expression has become.
“Not any more than you have,” Amami grins. “Trust me, if it was an issue, I wouldn’t offer to do it. I’m pretty reliably selfish, you’ll find.” He pats Saihara on the top of his hat, smiling at the exasperated huff it draws out of the shorter boy. That’s not entirely true; Saihara is a gentle person, a quiet person, the type of person that Amami feels compelled to help out when he can, purely because it makes him happy. He won’t say that, though. He imagines it would only make Saihara feel embarrassed.
“Ah,” Saihara pauses, seems to hesitate for a moment, looking at Amami curiously. “Well, I suppose if you wouldn’t mind… just steer away from an excessive amount of vegetables, perhaps.”
“The vegetables are the best part, Saihara-kun,” Amami chides, tapping the brim of his hat again. Saihara pouts at him a bit, leaning away and grabbing his hat so that it won’t be toyed with further.
“That’s your opinion,” Saihara says, “and if you put broccoli on my plate I simply will not eat it.”
Amami laughs. Okay, Saihara is funny. That’s fantastic. He grins, reaching out to pat Saihara on the head once more, resting his hand there when he’s done. Saihara peers at him grumpily from under the brim. “Alright, then. I’ll take it easy on the vegetables. I’ll get you your carbs some other way, some other time. See you in a bit, yeah?”
“Sure, I’ll leave the door open,” Saihara hums. Amami drops his hand from Saihara’s hat and watches him start to walk away, an easy smile on his face. Before Saihara disappears around the corner, though, he stops, and turns to look at Amami again. “Ah-- thank you, for doing this. It’s very sweet of you, Amami-kun.”
“Yeah,” Amami feels himself smiling at the soft look on Saihara’s face. He’s a good boy, huh. “It’s really no problem. Go rest up.”
Saihara flashes him one last smile before he goes, and when Amami comes into his room, later, he finds that Saihara is already fast asleep atop his blankets. Amami makes sure to take off his hat and tuck him under the blanket before he leaves again.