Chapter Text
It isn’t...that he’s...trying to overhear.
It’s just...a sort of ability that he has. Something picked up over the many years of living with such troublesome roommates. Even if one of the teachers hadn’t already tipped him off about Shirazu-kun, Haise guesses that he would have detected some off vibe from him anyway, and it doesn’t surprise him when he learns Shirazu-kun is planning another party this weekend. Though the address startles him, somehow it isn’t totally unexpected either that Shirazu-kun would figure out some way to obtain access to a luxury apartment for the festivities.
What is unexpected is that Yoriko wants to go.
“You — you do?” Touka gasps. “Why?”
Touka and Yoriko are eating lunch outside, on the bench outside the teacher’s lounge, and their voices are carrying in through the open window.
“We’ve just been studying so much recently! Especially you, Touka! We haven’t done anything in a whole week.”
“S-sorry.” Touka pauses. Even without seeing her, Haise can visualize her looking away and down. “I do want to hang out. But — you know how it is with my annoying Lit teacher —”
Haise grimaces. Yoriko laughs.
“You mean with your hot Lit teacher?”
“Stop saying that!” Touka hisses. “I never said that!”
“Well, of course you never said it...”
“When have you ever heard me say anything other than that he’s annoying as hell?”
“But why is he annoying? You never explain!”
“I told you! I can’t explain it, he just is! He’s just the world’s most annoying teacher!”
He...really should close the window. Haise stands, and then sits down again hastily when he realizes doing so puts him squarely within Touka and Yoriko’s range of view. He puts his arms on the table and rests his head on it. The bell is about to ring for the next class; Touka will turn her down soon.
Hurry up, he thinks, watching the clock. He still needs to retrieve his papers for the next class. Come on, Touka-chan.
“Come on, Touka,” Yoriko whines. “Aren’t you the one always saying that you want to live a normal life? Well, hanging out with people and doing things is part of it!”
“I...I guess...but even so...I’m pretty sure Shirazu-senpai didn’t really mean to invite anyone outside their year.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind! I heard he likes you a lot!”
“He…what? But I’ve barely spoken to him.”
“Right? I don’t know why he does, but you can find out at the party. I know he’d be happy if you went. And —” Yoriko hesitates. “Well, if you went, then I’d be able to go too.”
The bell rings.
“Fine! Fine, I’ll go. But I’m just doing it for you,” Touka asserts, and Yoriko cheers, and Haise listens in disbelief as they begin putting together plans to sneak out.
:::
It’s really not her style. Not her style anymore, anyway. Now that she has less-than-studious plans for the weekend, she is nervous that everyone is onto her, especially Sasaki-sensei, who seems to be prodding her a little more than usual.
“Have you not had time yet to go over the new vocabulary?” he asks.
“I have!” she snaps. “But it’s hard. It’s all new. How do you expect me to know it all in one week?”
“It’s difficult, Touka-chan, but I’m sure you can do it. The exam is at the start of next week.”
Ugh!
This guy is so annoying. And his love of exams is truly mind-boggling. Touka scowls at the desk and Haise clears his throat.
“Touka-chan, do you have plans for this weekend? Maybe you should devote it to studying.”
She blinks up at him in shock, and he clears his throat. “I m-mean — doesn’t it seem like a good idea?”
There’s no way he knows. She only decided to go like an hour ago. There’s no way.
“Yeah,” she tells him, smiling. “You’re right, this weekend is perfect for studying. I’ll be working on my vocabulary a lot. So, please don’t worry, Sasaki-sensei.”
“Oh? That’s a relief to hear,” he says. He returns her smile and rubs his chin, and Touka picks up her pencil, triumphantly.
Got you.
:::
This apartment complex is somehow way more luxurious than Touka had thought it would be. For a moment she’s afraid that the uniformed person at the door won’t let her in, but he seems to have some idea of what’s going on already.
“Um, I’m here for Shirazu-sen…for Shirazu-san,” Touka says, and the person nods and lets her in, and then walks her into the elevator and presses a button to let her up. The doors close soundlessly, leaving her alone with soft music and her own reflection blinking nervously at her.
Her hair is tied up. She tugs off her hair ties and shakes her hair so it looks a little less kept. The result is that she looks quite a lot like she used to, and she frowns, but before she can fix her hair again the door opens, straight into an apartment suite. The lights are dimmed, and there is loud music playing, and there are a lot of people in here — mostly upperclassmen, it seems.
“Touka?” someone calls, and Touka brightens — and then realizes it’s just Shirazu-senpai.
“Hey,” he says, grinning at her. “I was really — uh, I mean — I was kind of hoping you’d join us! Come on in!”
“Oh...thank you.” Touka makes her best smile, then brushes her hair back behind an ear and enters.
It’s the truth that she’s barely talked to Shirazu at all. She’s only encountered him a couple times in her part-time cafe work, and only just exchanged names a couple weeks ago, when she she ran into him while helping Yoriko clean up the infirmary.
He looks a lot like a delinquent, but is surprisingly nice. He asks if she’d like a drink, and she agrees, glad to have something to sip and fiddle with while waiting for Yoriko to arrive. Whatever he gives her, though, is so sugary that she coughs and winces when she first tries it.
“O-oh — is it — alright?” Shirazu asks. “Sorry, I’m used to making it this way — but if it’s too much, I can put a little less —”
“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” Touka says, waving him off and blinking away tears. “It’s perfectly fine, thanks.”
She hopes then that he’ll leave so she can find a corner to wait for Yoriko, but he doesn’t. Instead, he hovers, asking questions — how is she doing — how does she like this school — how are her classes going? She offers the most pleasant of answers for all his questions except the last, for which she isn’t able to suppress a gut-reaction frown.
“My classes are great,” she tries, and Shirazu laughs.
“You’re not convincing at all, Touka-san,” he says. She shrugs, swirling what remains of her drink, and Shirazu’s eyes brighten. “Oh…do you want another one?”
It did taste pretty good. Well, she feels pretty good right now, anyway. “Sure,” she says, Shirazu brightens, and while he mixes, Touka scans the room. It’s been a while already — where’s Yoriko? She pulls out her phone to text her, and realizes that she already has a message from her. Touka squints, trying to get the words into focus.
I’m so so so so so so sooo sorry, Touka-chan! My parents caught me trying to get out! I can’t make it after all. I’m soo sad! I’ll have to see you tomorrow, if my parents let me. They’re really mad.
“Shit,” Touka hisses. Her fingers are getting clumsy. She fumbles around her cellphone buttons and tries to answer and realizes that the text was sent almost an hour ago.
“I should get going,” she announces, just as Shirazu hands her her next drink. His face falls.
“W-wait — now? We’re just getting started! I mean —” He clears his throat. “I mean — I guess you can leave if you want, but — it’d be nice to talk to you a little more. How about you stay just until you finish your drink? You can tell me more about what you hate about your classes.”
“I like my classes,” Touka mumbles, and takes another gulp. The faster she finishes the sooner she can leave. And sooner is better, because it looks like Shirazu’s friends are coming over now. There’s Urie-senpai…and Yonebashi-senpai…and…is that…Mutsuki-senpai? She squints, and Mutsuki-senpai coughs and scratches underneath his eyepatch.
“H-hi, Kirishima-san.”
“Hey,” Touka responds. Shirazu might look like he’s perpetually up to no good, but his squad doesn’t quite match the same imagery. As she watches, Yonebashi reaches for one of the bottles on Shirazu’s counter and takes a swig from it, then settles it beside her and starts playing a game on her phone. Surreptitiously, Mutsuki takes the bottle and places it on his other side, away from reach.
“We were just talking about classes that we hate,” Shirazu says hastily, looking around to all of them. They stare, and Shirazu tugs out one of Urie’s headphones and elbows him.
“Ow! What?” Urie demands.
“Classes that we hate,” Shirazu growls at him, and Urie sighs.
“Um…I don’t know…Literature? You have that weird-haired teacher too, right?” Urie says, and Touka nods.
“The annoying one,” she agrees.
“The really old one?” Yonebashi says with a yawn. “With all the white hair?”
“He’s not really old,” Touka says. “But he does have a lot of white hair for some reason.”
“Is he that good-looking one?” Shirazu asks nervously.
“Definitely not,” Touka protests. She shakes her head vigorously as emphasis, but stops almost immediately, because doing so makes her feel like she’s about to fall over.
“Oh,” Shirazu sighs. “Good.”
“Is it the teacher with all the exams?” Mutsuki ventures, and he jumps when Touka points at him.
“Yes!” Touka says, with an enthusiasm that spills and stumbles and blurts out of her before she can stop it. “The exams! There are too many of them! Way too many!”
“One every week,” Urie grumbles. “Bastard.”
Mutsuki sets his hands in his pockets. “I don’t think they’re that bad? I mean — nothing but the final one is worth anything big. And, I — I mean — there’s a lot we can learn from him. I heard Sasaki-sensei has done a lot of work in literature —”
Urie snorts. “How can you do ‘work in literature?’ Does he have awards for it or something?”
“Yeah, I think he has two of them. Or maybe just one,” he amends, seeing Urie’s eyes flare.
“Whether he’s smart or not doesn’t matter!” Shirazu exclaims. “Exams are really stressful! It takes a toll on you, doesn’t it, Touka-chan?”
“Yeah, I hate it. Not only do I have exams,” she continues, “but I have tutoring sessions almost every day with that guy.”
“W-wait,” Shirazu says. “You do? Why?”
Shit.
“W-who knows?” Touka asks with a cough. There’s no way her poor reading ability is getting outside of Yoriko and Sasaki-sensei.
But they’re looking at her strangely. Shit. Shit.
How did she get to talking this much in the first place to a bunch of upperclassmen?
And why is she still doing it?
“O-one thing’s for sure,” Touka says quickly. “If he didn’t have so many exams, I wouldn’t need so much tutoring.”
“I bet he’s as shit of a tutor as he is a teacher,” Urie scoffs. “He probably just goes on and on about books the whole time.”
“U-um…yeah…I guess he does.”
“He just rambles on about books?” Shirazu asks, and Urie nods.
“Even during class. He has no idea when to shut up. It’s like he’s in love with them.”
Something is frothing up in her belly. “He does love them,” Touka argues, and Urie rolls his eyes.
“He’s a literal airhead.”
“‘Figurative,’” Touka corrects, quietly. “‘Figurative’ airhead.”
“Whatever. He needs to make friends. Real friends. He’s clearly one of those people that’s so lacking in social skills that he’s never been laid in his life.”
“So? What does that have to do with anything?” Touka demands, but Urie is ignoring her. He’s laughing, with venom, and continuing on.
“The reason he makes us take so many exams is probably just so we’ll all suffer along with him. Well, the joke’s on him. At least we don’t use books to make up for all the friends we can’t make —”
“Urie,” Mutsuki interrupts. He’s watching Touka, and says, “M-maybe you should —”
“Hey, have you read that book about the egg? The egg and the goat, or something?” Urie asks, and before Touka can respond that it’s her favorite, Urie says, “That one is disgusting. It’s unbelievable that he was allowed to give that to us. ‘Award-winning literature work’ my ass. I bet it’d be just as easy for someone like me to win awards in literature if all you need is to be a morbid, ugly sadist who is also the most annoying —”
Three things happen then, very quickly. First, Touka downs what remains of the drink in her cup, which in the past minute or so has somehow become crushed beyond recognition.
Second, she throws the cup at Urie’s face.
Finally, while he is distracted, she reels her fist back and punches him, right in the kidney.
Urie screams in pain and doubles over, and for some reason Touka takes the opportunity to kick out his knees and send him to the floor entirely. He gasps.
“You — you literal bi —”
“‘Figurative,’” she snarls. “Maybe you should pay more attention in Sasaki-sensei’s classes, you piece of shit.”
“Wow,” Yonebashi gasps. “That was a great combo.”
“Urie!” Shirazu shouts. “Urie, are you alright?”
“F-f-fuck! It hurts!”
“Urie — I tried to tell you —”
“Shut up! Fuck! Ugghh!”
“T-Touka — wait, Touka —”
But Touka is already jabbing the elevator buttons. By the time Shirazu catches up, the doors have shut again, and Touka is pressing her forehead against the cool steel, trying not to vomit.
:::
It isn’t...that he’s...trying to spy on her. Or get all wrapped up in her business. Whatever.
In any case, he can’t help being both relieved and panicked when he sees her shouting at the guard in the lobby. She’s trying to shake his hand off her arm, and is slurring, somewhat.
“G-get off me! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!”
“M-Miss — please, miss, if you don’t calm down, I will have to call for —”
“Touka-chan!” Haise calls. “There you are! Thank goodness!”
Both Touka and the guard snap their heads toward him.
“S-S-Sasaki-sensei?”
“Sasaki-san, you know this girl?” the guard says. His hand is still clenched around Touka’s arm, and Haise reaches and puts his hand on her shoulder.
“Yes, yes, she’s my guest. I’m terribly sorry if we’ve caused you any trouble,” he says, and, reluctantly, the guard releases Touka.
“It’s...no trouble at all. But please take care, Sasaki-san,” the guard says, with furrowed brows. Haise bows deeply, and begins shoving Touka out of the lobby as quickly as possible. She stumbles in front of him, tripping every other step.
“Ss...Sssaa...Saaa,” Touka gasps, and Haise says, “What? What? What is it?”
In answer she claps her hands over her mouth, muffling a retch. Her body heaves.
“O-oh — oh, no — don’t — I mean, please hang in there, Touka-chan —” He glances back to see if the guard has noticed. It wouldn’t be good if she was caught completely drunk in this type of apartment building, even if she didn’t have her reputation.
He ushers her into an elevator, and presses a button, and then tentatively begins to rub her back as her body continues to spasm. He races her down the apartment complex hallway, and fumbles for the keys to his door, and is glad that his bathroom is just one turn to the left. Fortunately, she knows what to do after he points, and she dashes in and slams the bathroom door behind her before getting to work.
Haise hovers, then busies himself with filling a glass of water. Once the sound of a flush dies down from beyond the door, he knocks, and opens it.
“Touka-chan?”
She answers him with a groan. She’s slumped against the rim of the bathtub, loose hair askew, still wearing her shoes. He steps in.
“Drink this,” he tells her, and when she just groans again he nudges the glass into her hand. It remains limp. He gives up and then holds it to her mouth.
“Drink it,” he tells her, more firmly, and she does, messily, water dribbling down her chin. Once she’s finished, he refills the glass from the bathroom sink, and she groans at him again.
“I already drank a lot.”
Obviously, he thinks.
“Have some more or you’re just going to feel worse,” he instructs, and she gives in with a growl and downs it all.
“Why...are you even...here,” she mumbles. “You...stalking me?”
“This is where I live,” he explains. She frowns at him, and he laughs.
“An apartment like this isn’t really my style, but a friend of mine insisted.”
It’s only after he says it that he realizes what should have been obvious: his student is here, alone, in his private apartment. Drunk.
“We need to get you home,” he says hastily, grabbing her by her arms. She starts to stand at first, then wobbles, and crumples back to the ground, without even a cry of pain as her knee bangs into the rim of the toilet.
“Touka-chan,” he calls. “Touka-chan. Time to go home.”
Her response is incomprehensible. Haise hesitates, then grabs her hands and hauls her to her feet. She only makes it as far as the entryway before collapsing again, and he sighs.
Well, it’s a good thing he has experience bringing blackout drunks home. He’s a little out of practice, but Touka is much lighter than certain roommates that he’s had to deal with before. He arranges her against his back, posing her arms over his shoulders.
“Hold on tight,” he tells her, for whatever it’s worth, and is relieved when her hands link in front of him as he hefts her up. It’s difficult with her knees braced on his elbows, but he manages to open his apartment door, and lock it shut. Then he starts for the elevator and —
Wait. If he runs into anyone who sees him with a high school girl passed out on his back...
He purses his lips with determination, and starts down the flight of stairs to the apartment’s parking lot. She seems to regain consciousness a bit as they jostle down.
“I really like the goat and egg,” she mumbles.
“Oh,” Haise says, out of breath. “Really? That’s nice.”
“I really like it,” she repeats.
“Yeah, yeah, I agree, goats and eggs can be delicious.”
She huffs and starts kicking her legs. Haise stumbles and almost falls down the steps.
“T-Touka-chan — p-please don’t —”
“Noooo,” she hisses, “the black one, the black egg,” and Haise wheezes as her arms tighten around his neck. He braces her against the railing.
“O-oh — the book?” he gasps. “The book? The Black Goat’s Egg? The Black Goat’s Egg?”
Her grip slackens.
“Yeah,” she sighs. “that one. I love it.”
“That’s great,” Haise says, continuing to pick his way down the stairs. Two flights left. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
She quiets, and doesn’t say another word until they get to the top of the last flight of stairs.
“It’s the first book I ever really read,” she says softly. “I read others, but I never finished them…or else I didn’t really…think about them. I just…I never…I don’t know. But Goat’s Egg was good. I loved it. And it’s thanks to you, sensei.”
His chest warms.
“I’m…I’m so happy to hear that, Touka-chan.” He realizes, with some surprise, that it’s true — he’s really, truly happy. “Books are my favorite thing, so…well, it’s wonderful to hear that I was able to help you enjoy them too.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles. “Yeah. You’re a good teacher, I guess. Even if you’re annoying. And even if you like exams way too much. And even if you’re a virgin and a sadist.”
He almost falls down the stairs again.
“Wh — what? I — I am not —“
DON’T, some rational voice screams. DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE.
With great effort, he suppresses himself, all the way until they reach his car. He buckles her into the passenger side, and takes the driver’s seat. Then he pauses, and resists the urge to bang his forehead against the steering wheel.
He has no idea where she lives.
“Touka-chan? Can you tell me your address? Touka-chan?”
He shakes her, to no avail. She doesn’t respond; she’s sound asleep.
That’s it, he thinks. This is it for his budding teaching career. What is he supposed to do? He can’t bring her back to his apartment. He certainly can’t leave her here in the parking lot either.
Haise’s forehead is an inch from the steering wheel when he suddenly hears a phone vibrate. Not his phone, he realizes. Hers.
He’s never scrambled so fast. The screen reads Nii-san.
“Hello?” Haise says hopefully. “Are you Touka’s older brother?”
The other side of the line is so silent he’s afraid that the other party has hung up. Then he hears a low, adult voice.
“Who is this?”
:::
Blurry lights. Blurry sounds. Blurry everything.
”Touka-chan,” someone whispers, and Touka moans.
“Stoooop.”
”Almost home, Touka-chan. Can you stand?”
“Shut up,” Touka wails, “leave me alone,” and the voice, thankfully, stops. But then they just pry her out of her bed and — wait, no — is this her bed? She fumbles for the covers and just feels cloth, and satin. She tries to push her head into her pillow. It’s warm — much warmer than usual. She sighs.
“Almost there. How are you feeling?”
“…bad.” But it smells nice, at least.
More lights. More sounds. More everything. Touka is dropped onto her feet, and it’s cold, and then it’s warm, and then it’s dark, and then too bright — she brings her arm up against the light —
And realizes with a start that it’s morning.
She sits up with a jerk, and immediately regrets it. The world spins and quakes. Her hands cram against her forehead.
“About time,” says a voice dryly, and every syllable bangs into her skull like a bell.
“Wh…wh…?”
“Home,” Ayato answers. “That teacher that you hate dragged your ass back here.”
“Wh…wh…?”
“Yeah,” he says, with a shrug. “I don’t really know either. But he seems okay. He didn’t even get mad when you punched him.”
“When…I…?”
“When he dropped you off he mentioned postponing some exam for you, but I think all you heard was the word ‘exam.’” Ayato laughs. Touka stares at him blearily, and takes the mug of water that he hands her, and drinks.
For a while they sit in silence.
“He was annoying,” Ayato mutters. “Just like you said.”
Touka snorts. “I’m glad you get it.”
“Of course I do. He’s just as annoying as dad was.”
She glances up at him. He looks away.
She considers.
“Dad wasn’t annoying,” she tells him, looking down into her glass. “And…you know…and I don’t think Sasaki-sensei is that annoying after all.”
And she sticks to that opinion, even when Sasaki-sensei gives her double the vocabulary to memorize for next week's test.