Chapter Text
Kaoru was fucked.
Truly and utterly fucked.
The semester hadn’t even started yet, and he was already preparing to be fired from his new job. He sighed as he looked at the stack of unopened boxes that invaded the empty art room. Four years of college plus two years of grad school down the drain all because of a misunderstanding that wasn’t his fault. In his head, he was already kissing his sweet 15-minute commute goodbye as he reflected over the encounter.
For context, Kaoru was fucked because he was currently plotting the murder of his coworker.
On the surface, Kaoru Sakurayashiki was a refined young man who accepted nothing but perfection from his work. During the summer, Kaoru had his calendar open for commissions; it became his unofficial side hustle during college, and even now as a full-time teacher, he continued to keep the window open for any unexpected projects. Those who had the opportunity to commission the man always had nothing but words of praise: he was always professional with his clients, never lapsing into colloquial slang whether it be over email or in person. During the project, Kaoru made it a point to keep the client as up-to-date as possible without becoming overbearing; along with the emails, he’d send frequent update pictures. If they needed to meet in person, Kaoru would appear with his long hair pulled back, intelligent glasses, and snappy dress attire to let them know he was a man who meant business. He always insisted it was no issue if the client were underdressed by comparison because he’d lightheartedly smile and say “I am but a humble servant on a quest to please you.” Male, female, or anyone in between, Kaoru would always manage to capture their hearts resulting in a blissfully easy meeting every time.
Yeah, Kaoru knew he laid it on a bit thick, but he sure as hell never had anyone complain about his business tactics. What was the old saying? Ah yes, to always use the resources within your grasp. Kaoru’s resources just so happened to be his stunning appearance.
(What? Is it a crime to be too charming?)
Underneath the carefully laid facade existed a barely restrained snarky terror.
Despite part of his last name literally translating to cherry blossom, he was not at all like the delicate flower he appeared to be. Growing up he was constantly picked on for his scrawny build and short stature. It never helped that he preferred to spend his days alone quietly drawing or writing rather than playing sports like other boys his age. He knew people thought he was odd, but paid it no mind. He mostly kept to himself and tried to be as invisible as possible, that is, until junior high where he finally hit his growth spurt. Once puberty had finally begun to do its job, his scrawny arms turned into lean muscle, his face began to mature, and the shitty bowl cut he had was nonexistent as he finally decided to grow his hair out. It was as though he suddenly found a new sense of confidence overnight. And what of those people who used to tower over Kaoru? The ones who ruthlessly mocked him? Well, it gave him immense satisfaction to know he could be the one to loom over them. The childish glee from a simple height advantage would eventually turn into teenage foolishness, and for the next few years, Kaoru could only be described as what he would politely call a little shit.
Since he never had too many friends before, it was pitifully easy for him to misunderstand companionship and to fall into a bad crowd. It started with a little thing like skipping classes but steadily went to more extreme territories as the months went by: breaking into abandoned buildings and fighting students from other schools became a regular occurrence for the highschooler; just as common for him to appear home at odd hours with the addition of new piercings. All of this was a prelude to him eventually being arrested on the charge of vandalism. Though, he was still secretly proud of that last one. It turned out to be a masterpiece and made him itch to visit Japan to see if someone else had painted over it after all these years. Anyways, to sum it all up, Kaoru was a bit of a hassle in his teenage years. So when his parents proposed he go to Canada for college for a fresh start, he initially fought them tooth and nail. He attempted to appeal to all of their emotions: guilt (“Man, you guys must really hate me if you’re sending me to the other side of the world”), sadness (“but mom, dad...all my friends are here”), anger (“YOU’RE JUST DOING THIS TO TEACH ME SOME SHITTY LESSON-”), and when those inevitably failed, he even resorted to reverse psychology.
“Mom, Dad, I know I said I didn’t want to go to Canada, but I did some reflecting and realized I’m actually really excited for the big move,” Kaoru exclaimed with the biggest brightest (fakest) smile he could manage.
“Oh Kaoru,” his mother start”, we’re your parents,” she’d smile,” we just want the best for you. And as your parents, I think we’re entitled to say you’re full of shit.”
“God fucking dammit-” his “smile” would drop as his mom looked at him with false pity in her eyes.
“Maybe try to look like you don’t have such a stick up your ass, and maybe you’ll fool us,” she’d say as she kissed his cheek. It would only enrage Kaoru further and would cause him to storm off.
Once he was sent to Canada, his parents forced him to go to college. He was tempted to choose the easiest major at the institution, but he knew his parents would never accept it, so he became an art major. He was pretty decent according to a few of the local graffiti artists, so he figured, why not? Since he didn’t have a particular idea of what he wanted to do after school, he declared that he’d focus on a BA in studio art; this way, he was able to take a variety of classes to get a feel for what stuck with him. Eventually, he landed in an early art education class that forced him to make lesson plans for art students in varying grade levels. And surprisingly, Kaoru ended up enjoying the class, so much so that he ended up taking another art education class next semester with the same professor. According to a bunch of different articles he pulled up in a stress-induced haze, it was a pretty easy major to graduate with since there was no mid-program review like with other majors. By the end of his freshmen year, Kaoru had officially switched over to being an art education major. Oh well , he thought, if I don’t like it, I can always change it later.
Later had come a lot quicker than he expected. Because after 2 years, Kaoru hit the point of no return; it dawned on him that he did not in fact hate his major, and would gladly finish out the program with a tip of his cap. Going to Canada had actually done him some good and helped mellow out his aggressive personality, but it did tend to slip out sometimes. His parents and old “friends” were equally shocked the day he made an Instagram post of him holding a medal and a piece of paper with the eloquent caption “top-class bitches only.”
Instead of returning to Japan like he originally planned, he actually got a job offer right after graduation; it was a small private school looking for an art teacher. From his current apartment, the commute was a hellish trek that lasted 40 minutes on a good day but went up to a full hour on the worse. But some sacrifices worth it he supposed, because he actually loved the school. Most of the teachers got along well, and there were no cliquey dynamics that made him want to pull his hair out. There was no separation between the younger and lower grades so he taught a variety of classes, but he quickly learned he had a preference to work with upper-level kids.
(His first mistake, honestly.)
The kids were well behaved and even if they weren’t passionate about art like he was, they still managed to show enthusiasm for a few things. Like splatter paint.
Because who the fuck didn’t like splatter paint?
Sadly, his time at the school would come to a close after 5 years when the school board announced that they’d be closing. It was a part of life, he supposed. When that term ended and Kaoru began his hunt for a new school, his eyes widened as he discovered an opening within the first week of his search; it was a public high school with around 3000-4000 kids, more kids than Kaoru could comfortably say he’d been around compared to his old school. He was shocked to learn how close the school was, it almost felt like it was meant to be. He emailed his resume to the principal and thought nothing of it until the next week when the principal responded saying he’d like to interview him.
(Mistake number two.)
The interview went well and Kaoru’s job was cemented for the upcoming school year. Kaoru was nervous, but he was excited to be there. On the day teachers were allowed to return to the building, the PTA welcomed teachers back with bags of goodies that pencils, packs of paper, hand sanitizer, and even tissues, and while it might not seem like a lot, it was a godsend for the teachers who could barely wrap their heads around the fact school started next month.
Kaoru had parked his car and retrieved a small dolly from the backseat to begin transporting his supplies to his new classroom. While most of the stuff he needed was provided by the school, he always went the extra mile to bring a few extra things for the more unusual projects. He was able to stack three large boxes on top, along with the bag of supplies from PTA, before he deemed it full and made his way to the art room. He counted his blessings that it was located on the bottom floor; apparently, the elevator had stopped working last school year, and they’d yet to fix it. With the amount of stuff Kaoru had, he knew it would’ve been hell trying to get the stupidly heavy box of handmade clay mugs up the stairs.
When he eventually found his classroom, he pulled his newly issued key from the front pocket of his overalls, slid it in the handle, and cracked the door open. Kaoru was met with the intense smell of paint fumes. The room had to be at least twice the size of his old art room and let in a whole lot more light than he expected. There were two large sinks located near the back where Kaoru had entered and appeared to be spotless. The floors were just bare concrete with a film that made it so much easier to clean compared to the old plastic floors of his old school. It kept getting better and better, especially once he noticed the two smaller rooms to his left; an office and a kiln. God, he hit the jackpot with this position! He figured that the kiln wasn’t solely his, but he didn’t care because shit he had his own kiln in his classroom! Nothing could ruin the mood he was in, as he merrily unloaded the boxes and ventured out to make another trip.
(His unbridled optimism was the final nail in the coffin.)
Kaoru unloaded three more boxes from the car. In light of his good mood, he foolishly believed he could add a fourth box to the dolly. Instead of the steady pile like he expected when he tipped the dolly backward, the box gave a mean tilt to the right. Kaoru knew he’d never catch it in time.
But instead of hitting the ground, a flash of green registered in Kaoru’s mind as he saw the box was not on the ground, but in the arms of a muscular man.
“Whoa there, gotta be careful with stuff like this-” he began. Kaoru was about to thank the man before he finished his statement,” -sweetheart.” The man even had the nerve to end it with a wink.
From the muscles to the appraising smirk on his face along with his stupid green hair, Kaoru already knew he hated this man with all his being.
“Thank you,” Kaoru gritted out. He attempted to regain his box from the man, but expertly avoided Kaoru’s grasp.
“No problem! I’ll do you one better and carry it to your classroom,” he smirked.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said as neutrally as possible. On the inside, he was already raging at the fact that he, a 27-year-old man, was just called sweetheart by a literal buffoon.
“Oh, I insist,” the stranger said. Kaoru could sense this would only drag on longer if he fought him, so he sighed before giving into the man’s request to help.
“Fine, just follow me.” Kaoru fully intended to speedwalk in silence to his classroom, maybe the man would finally get the hint Kaoru wasn’t down for whatever little game he wanted to play. Sadly, the man was a lot denser than his muscles as he attempted to start a conversation.
“Soooo are you new to the school this year? I’ve been here for 3 years already as the gym teacher and boy’s basketball coach,” he chattered.
Oh god , thought Kaoru, of course, he’s a gym teacher. The muscles, the shit-eating grin, the cocky attitude, the basketball shorts - it all made sense.
“I’m new,” Kaoru said shortly.
“Hi New, I’m Kojiro Nanjo, but friends just call me Joe,” he introduced with another godforsaken wink.
Kaoru barely contained the urge to roll his eyes as they finally reached the classroom. Nanjo let out a low whistle as he took in the mostly bare room.
“Nice place ya got here. What do you teach?”
“Art.”
“Art? Whoa, that’s cool. It’s so time-consuming, but you must be pretty good with your hands if you were able to land a job here.” Kaoru was about two seconds from losing it when the footsteps of a new guest had entered the room. It was the principal of the school, Ainosuke Shindou.
“Ah, Kaoru Sakurayashiki, a pleasure to you again. I hope you’ve been able to unpack your things in a timely manner,” the principal said breezily.
“Yes sir, it’s coming along fine,” answered Kaoru. While Kaoru was grateful for the man giving him a job, he couldn’t help but think there was something...off about the blue-haired man. Like his seemingly nonchalant smile hid another side of the man he didn’t want anyone to see. The blue-haired man then proceeded to ask how Kaoru’s summer was and if he was productive, conversation between the two spanned for 5 more minutes until Principal Shindo noticed Nanjo’s presence.
“I see you’ve met Coach Nanjo.”
“Oh yeah,” inserted Nanjo,” we met in the parking lot.”
“Mr. Nanjo, I do hope you’ve welcomed Sakurayashiki with open arms. I think I've acquired quite the asset our team, don't you think? I’d hate to lose those talents so soon.” He said with an almost regretful demeanor.
“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” started Nanjo,” I was just helping unpack all these boxes.” he finished with a grin.
“I see,” said the principal,” well I’ll let you get back to it then. I was just making my rounds to all the classrooms, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off now.” Once he exited the room, Kaoru exhaled with relief, but quickly remembered he still had one more nuisance in his classroom. Any sense of Kaoru’s professionalism he had talking with Mr. Shindo fell away as he turned to face Nanjo with an unamused look. The green-haired man didn’t even seem to notice as he said “Kaoru Sakurayashiki? A bit of a mouthful, Ms.Cherry Blossom.”
Nanjo drew closer to Kaoru as he grabbed the art teacher’s hand and said “But, I suppose it’s a fitting name for a beautiful woman like you” and attempted to place a kiss on top of his hand.
Did Kaoru accidentally hit his head last night or was this actually happening? Was Kaoru really being accosted by a stupid gym teacher all because the idiot thought he was a woman ?
With his last shred of sanity, Kaoru uttered the phrase “I’m a man” as he yanked his hand back. Nanjo was frozen in place with wide eyes. You could almost hear the rebooting noises in the man’s head.
“But- but your-” he stuttered.
“Go ahead,” Kaoru wolfishly grinned,” say it. Say my long hair makes me look like a woman, I dare you. But forewarning, I know exactly which boxes hold the knives and needlepoint tools.”
“Wait wait wait- knives ? I thought all you did was draw pictures?” he attempted to divert the conversation.
“I’m a fucking art teacher you dimwit, why would I only have supplies for one project?”
“Well, I don’t know,” he muttered”, seems like the easiest thing to do so-”
“Excuse me, but being an art teacher is more than drawing shitty pictures and not nearly as easy as muscled brained idiots such as yourself seem to think it is,” spat Kaoru.
“Hey, who’re you calling a dimwit and an idiot?” Nanjo huffed as he crossed his arms over his wide chest.
“Since there’s no one else here, I’m obviously talking to you. Can you just stop bothering me? Unlike you, I actually have things to do so go, I don’t know, throw a football or something.” Kaoru turned away from him, pulled a knife from his side pocket, and got to work opening boxes. Nanjo stood there for a moment in disbelief before, storming out and mumbling to himself. Kaoru felt a headache coming on the further the man got, probably to foreshadow the future headache he would inevitably be.
Man, thought Kaoru, this is going to be a long school year.