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There were many times when Sabito didn’t know what to do with the supposed human being known as Giyu Tomioka. Sure, they’d been friends since they were kids, with all the embarrassing stories that entailed. Sabito had watched as his best friend learned to ride a bike, accidentally asked out a girl (and got rejected in the same breath), and got more injuries from stray balls than was statistically probable. They’d gone through school together, even university, and by now he could confidently say he knew Giyu inside and out. Hell, he might even know Giyu better than his parents did.
Yet, despite that, Giyu somehow found a way to shock him every couple of months. Like today. Sitting in the middle of the staff room of the high school where they both taught, Sabito looked down at his half-filled coffee mug. Considering it was his second cup in the morning, he had to be awake. He glanced up once more at the nervous man in front of him. Not that most people would be able to tell. Giyu’s expressions ranged from rock to blank sheet for those who didn’t know him. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Run that by me again?”
“The students are asking me for advice,” Giyu repeated slowly.
That was exactly what he thought he’d heard. Sabito sipped his coffee, the bitter liquid jolting his senses. “They’re coming to you for advice?”
“Every morning.” Giyu’s shoulders sank at the memory. “I can’t give them advice.”
“That right there is the reason why,” Sabito muttered dryly, raking his hair as he took in his friend. To anyone else, Giyu’s words would have sounded callous, but Sabito recognized them for what they were: an admission of his abilities. An admission he agreed with utterly—sure, at that age, he’d also thought most adults were put together and knew everything about anything. Yet even just looking at him should have clued in the students that Giyu wasn’t the best choice. He was wearing a tracksuit, for crying out loud, while everyone else wore some level of professional clothing.
And no, being a gym teacher did not excuse Giyu’s lack of common sense.
Giyu nodded, taking his response far more seriously than he’d intended. “Could you do it instead?”
“Me?” Sabito frowned, not interested. He had his hands full with his class, let alone whatever kid thought that Giyu of all people was the best person to hear his worries. “You’re a teacher, too. You have to be able to handle this yourself.”
“Right.” Crestfallen, Giyu’s shoulders sank even further and he hung his head. It was like kicking a puppy.
Biting back a groan, Sabito gave in. As pathetic as his friend was sometimes, he could never let him flounder for long. “Alright, alright. I’ll help. But only if it looks like you can’t handle it.”
Giyu’s eyes almost sparkled and Sabito wondered just how long it’d be before he regretted his words.
-x-
There were many tasks Sabito had to finish before class started in the morning. Making sure his lesson plan was set, homework was marked, his supplies were ready—mornings were a busy time for him in general.
They were even busier now that he had to watch over Giyu. Even worse, he couldn’t just do it from a safe distance like a normal person. No, Sabito had to hide behind a row of bushes lining the school entryway, just centimeters away from his friend and the students as they slowly trickled in. He felt like a stalker from a cliché shoujo manga.
Peeking through the bushes, he watched as student after student was inspected by Giyu. At least it made sense now. It was hard to find a teacher alone in the morning, with all the pre-class prep. The only one consistently available and easy to find was Giyu. If Sabito were a teen and really needed the advice, he’d do it too. But only if he couldn’t wait till afterschool.
It seemed he wasn’t the only one with that thought. Sabito had been lurking in the bushes for a good half hour and students hadn’t so much as smiled Giyu’s way, let alone asked for his help. Maybe Giyu had imagined it. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d misunderstood someone’s intentions. He’d been infamous—
“Yes?” Giyu asked, his voice unnaturally loud as it cut through Sabito’s thoughts.
Sabito jerked his attention back to Giyu. Next to him stood a shorter boy, his expression animated as he talked. The burn mark on his forehead marked him as one of the kids from Shinobu’s classes—Tanjirou, if Sabito remembered correctly. Giyu kept looking back at the bushes panickily, not that Tanjirou noticed.
Shoot. Sabito silently apologized before leaning forward as he strained to eavesdrop on the conversation.
“—so we ended up deciding on a school play,” Tanjirou rattled off, his eyes bright as his voice increased in pitch. “And Nezuko’s going to be the princess!”
Giyu was sweating buckets, glancing from Tanjirou, to the bushes, and then back again. He didn’t say anything as Tanjirou rambled on and Sabito had to resist the urge to laugh. No wonder the kid had flocked to Giyu. To an outsider, Giyu was a great listener. He kept quiet, didn’t interject more than necessary, and always paid attention.
However, anyone who knew him longer than a few hours would realize that wasn’t the case at all. The only reason he kept quiet was because he couldn’t figure out what to reply with and by the time he did, it was always too late to respond. It was a cycle of sorts.
“She’s so cute in her dress,” Tanjirou gushed, almost vibrating from excitement. “Though she also looks really handsome in the knight’s suit.”
Giyu opened his mouth to say something before closing it.
“It was really hard, actually, picking a position—” The bell rang, cutting off Tanjirou before he could ramble for yet another twenty minutes. Jumping in surprise, he waved as he dashed toward the school. “Sorry, I’ll explain later!”
By the time Tanjirou reached the school doors, Giyu managed a weak, “…bye.”
Sabito snickered as he stood up, dusting the leaves off his suit. Stepping out of the bushes, he approached his friend. “What was that?”
Shooting him a baleful look, Giyu closed the school gates. It creaked as it moved, almost drowning out his response. “I…couldn’t help him.”
“I don’t think he needed any help,” Sabito replied wryly, rubbing his neck. There was not a single part of the conversation that looked like Tanjirou had expected a response, let alone wanted one. When Giyu still looked downcast, he squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “Seriously, I think he just wanted someone to listen.”
“But—”
Sabito interrupted firmly, “Sometimes that’s all there is.”
“…if you say so…” Looking utterly unconvinced, Giyu slowly trudged toward the school looking like a dog on his last walk.
There were times when Sabito was certain Giyu should have tried his hand at acting, he had the theatrics for it. “Fine, fine.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll come again tomorrow, alright?”
-x-
Sabito sighed as he crouched behind the bushes once more. He certainly hadn’t expected to do this again, yet here he was, skulking in the shadows. Unlike yesterday, though, he was prepared this time with a coffee in hand.
Once more, students trickled in slowly, their arrival coinciding with club activities and class duties. Tanjirou didn’t appear this time. Yesterday’s chat must have cleared his system and Sabito resisted the urge to laugh as he remembered Giyu’s expression. This time, he’d take a photo of it. There were endless uses for it.
All he needed was a student pestering Giyu. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long as yet another one of Shinobu’s students just appeared in front of Giyu like lightning. Even if the blonde hair hadn’t given away who it was, the sobbing would have. Zenitsu bawled like a baby, water escaping his eyes like a waterfall.
“She didn’t want to date me!” Zenitsu wailed, his voice oddly clear despite his tearful state. “I bought her flowers, got her candy, and she didn’t want to date me!”
His voice increased in pitch with each complaint and maybe he should join the choir with range like that.
Giyu raised his hands helplessly, like he didn’t know what to do with them. This was perhaps the worst topic to ask him for advice. Sabito could count how many dates Giyu had been on with one hand. “Uhhh….”
“I’m going to die alone!” Sobbing, Zenitsu grabbed Giyu’s jacket and blew his nose on it.
It was almost enough to break Giyu’s stoic expression. He looked ready to die at any moment and it was a miracle he hadn’t recoiled after that.
Not taking any notice, Zenitsu pressed closer, still crying up a storm. “No one loves me!!!”
A small puddle started forming at their feet and Giyu looked down at Zenitsu frantically before turning to the bushes. There was no mistaking it this time, that wide-eyed panic was a clear call for help.
Automatically, Sabito started to rise before realizing he didn’t have a clue on how to react either. Were all the kids in Shinobu’s class weirdos? This wasn’t a normal level of heartbreak that any teen faced, no this was some existential crisis and it would take a therapist or two to fix.
All of a sudden, the tears stopped, and Sabito jerked his head up to catch Zenitsu’s smile as he pulled away. He wiped his eyes. “Thanks, I feel better now.”
Do you? Sabito almost asked, before remembering that he was hiding in the bushes like some sort of creep.
Aside from his red-rimmed eyes and runny nose, Zenitsu didn’t look like his heart had just been broken at all. Instead, he appeared practically cheerful as he skipped onward to the school. He even made a call me gesture as he passed by a girl.
Immediately, Giyu turned to Sabito’s bush, his expression identical to a kicked puppy’s.
Well, it wasn’t like Sabito had known what to do then either. Silently, he resigned himself to yet another morning in the bushes.
-x-
Wednesday was utterly absent of heartbroken boys or overly enthusiastic brothers. In fact, as Sabito sat behind a bush for the third day in a row, he had to keep pinching his wrist to keep awake. There hadn’t been a single student who’d bothered Giyu and secretly Sabito hoped that this would be the last of it. He did not like the fact that his footprints were now embedded in the mud here, or that he was seriously considering setting up a stool.
Five minutes before the bell rang, Sabito stretched his arms behind his back. Well, that was it. The only students left were the chronically late ones and considering that Tanjirou hadn’t passed yet, he was probably dashing up the street now. Resting his jaw on a hand, he waited impatiently for the kid to show.
He didn’t have to wait long. It only took fifteen seconds for a mop of brown hair to appear. A blur hurtling down the school path, Sabito could just make out a waving hand and a rush of apologies before Tanjirou disappeared through the school gate.
Turning back to Giyu, Sabito’s jaw dropped as the other infamous sibling ran in. Every part of her was a school violation, from the tips of her pink hair to her wrinkled socks to the pink contacts in her eyes. The biggest issue, however, was the loaf of bread in her mouth, making it impossible for her to talk.
There was something physically impossible about it, yet he couldn’t deny what was in front of his eyes. Looking just as shocked as he was, Giyu stepped forward to block her path. “That…”
She stopped in front of him, cocking her head expectantly. The bread remained in her mouth, the size somehow staying the same despite how much she chewed.
“That bread.” Giyu gestured at her mouth. “You will choke.”
Nezuko stared up at him for a good long second before nodding. Then she was gone again, bread still in her mouth, and Sabito wasn’t sure if she had even understood the question.
-x-
It was amazing how quickly a person could get used to something. Sabito had been sitting in the bushes four days in a row now and it felt like part of his morning routine to grab a stool, drag it to the bushes, and drink his morning coffee as he watched students and teachers arrive.
He was absolutely certain that another student would appear today, and the only question was if it would be someone who had already come or if it would be someone new. While he would never admit it aloud, this was starting to become the highlight of his day. If they made a betting pool out of it, he’d have raked in a fortune.
Well, as long as it wasn’t about guessing who’d come next, because oddities of oddities, Kanao was nervously tugging on Giyu’s sleeve today. Red-faced, she stuttered as she asked, “C-could you h-help me with something?”
Sabito rubbed his eyes, but the sight before him didn’t change. He would have thought that for any problems she had, she’d have gone to her sister. Maybe it was about Shinobu? Sensing something juicy, he leaned forward eagerly.
“I wonder how he’ll deal with this.”
Sabito froze at the slightly musical voice above him. There was no mistaking Shinobu’s voice, they verbally sparred several times a week now, and he tried to remember to breathe as she set her own stool next to him. Maybe he’d summoned her by thinking of her. That was supposed to only work with devils, but then again, she was close enough.
Not noticing his condition, Shinobu sipped her expresso as she watched the comical scene before her. “I can’t believe he actually went to you for help.”
“What?” Sabito broke out of his state to turn to her. “You did this?”
“Not exactly,” she corrected, utterly amused. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I just let my students know Giyu was very good at listening.”
“You sly fox.” Shaking his head, Sabito sighed. It made a lot more sense now, the strange students that Giyu kept seeing and how most of them were from Shinobu’s class. This had to be some sort of stress relief. “You have nothing better to do than to tease him?”
“It’s not like you’re much better,” Shinobu pointed out, rolling her eyes.
He couldn’t deny it. There were plenty of times he’d done something just to see how Giyu would react. In front of them, a red-faced Kanao kept looking at the bushes nervously as she talked and Sabito asked, “And Kanao?”
“Okay, I might have sent her.” Shinobu shrugged easily. “But he needs to get better at this. He’s a teacher, after all.”
He couldn’t deny that either. Sometimes, he wondered if Shinobu actually liked Giyu, if this was her way of showing her friendship. A bigger part of him knew better than to ask.
-x-
There was only one problem student on Saturday, and for once Sabito was certain that this wasn’t Shinobu’s doing, even if the kid was in her class. For one thing, Inosuke wasn’t asking for advice or rattling off about some personal event. For the other, he was climbing over the massive ten-foot-tall wall that surrounded the school.
Giyu stood on the other side, his hands up nervously in front of him as he got ready to catch the student.
“I! Got! This!” Inosuke grunted, straining to keep a grip on the wall as he slowly lowered himself.
“You can’t do this,” Giyu replied back worriedly, and it was at times like this that Sabito had to begrudgingly agree to Shinobu’s point. At some point, Giyu had to learn how to talk to his students.
“WHAT?” Inosuke roared, his muscles tensing as he hurriedly lowered himself. Alas, just as they predicted, his grip wasn’t strong enough and he slipped down the wall instead.
Giyu ran under him, catching him in his arms before bumping into the wall from the rush. Eyes wide, he stared at the shocked bundle of boy in his arms. “You’re okay.”
It wasn’t a question, just a statement, and it was all Inosuke needed before he tumbled out of Giyu’s hands and onto the ground. Staring up at the wall, then at Giyu, Inosuke growled, “I could have handled that!”
“You couldn’t,” Giyu replied honestly and Sabito face-palmed. Honesty had its place, but Giyu had never figured out what that was.
Instead, he had said the worst words Inosuke could have heard, riling him up. “I CAN! AND I WILL!”
As he ran to the school like a rampaging boar, Sabito sighed. This wouldn’t be the last time Inosuke climbed over the school wall, not by a longshot.
-x-
“So?” Giyu asked, looking just as nervous as he had last week when he’d first brought up the issue. There was something expectant in his eyes, something that wanted more than just empty compliments.
Sabito scratched his cheek. Despite Shinobu’s meddling and aside from Kanao, the other students had genuinely come for Giyu’s help. And luckily, none of that stuff required actual help. If anything, they seemed content with just someone listening. Luckily, listening was Giyu’s strength. “You’re doing fine.”
“I am?” Surprised, Giyu stared at him as though he’d grown two heads.
“Really, you have!” Sabito clapped his friend’s back. “Just keep doing what you always do, and it’ll be fine.”
Reluctantly, Giyu nodded. “If you say so.”
“I do.” Sabito smiled. This was all for his friend’s sake, he reminded himself. So Giyu could become a better teacher.
This was not in the least because Shinobu had promised a more exciting problem next week.