Chapter Text
Tsurumaru knows he should rather concentrate on what his son’s teacher is telling him - something about Gokotai being too quiet, too timid, a smart child but— well, he doesn’t know, he stopped listening at some point.
This person’s voice is all too pleasant. A true miracle the children can listen to him and actually pay attention to what he is saying. Or perhaps Tsurumaru has gone a time too long without someone by his side to consider his son’s history teacher as a contestant for that place at this point.
He is trying. Honestly. He is. But it’s hard when the person opposite of him has eyes gorgeous enough to be unreal. As if they were painted, unsure whether he imagines it because he is enamoured or not, Tsurumaru swears that within the deep-blue colour of his eyes, a shade Tsurumaru only knows from the night sky, they draw a gradient like a crescent moon, a golden hue that seems hidden if not observed closely.
“Kuninaga-san.”
Tsurumaru takes a second or maybe two to savour the feeling hearing his name in that voice and can’t believe what comes out of his own mouth.
“Tsurumaru.”
He is met with a puzzled expression - albeit a smile on the other’s face, still. As the entire time. “Excuse me?”
“That’s— I mean, I don’t mind— no, wait.”
He is in for surprises, by God, Tsurumaru lives for surprises. Always has, always will. Not solely for the reaction of those who are being surprised but for knowing that a surprise early and intended will never catch those off guard he cares for. He has had enough of the sort that could have easily broken him - left him with a heart attack, dying at the side road.
But this, surprising himself, this he did not expect at all. It wouldn’t be a surprise otherwise, in hindsight, but how did he allow himself to slip like this?
He hears a chuckle and realizes he hasn’t continued what he meant to say. “I suppose I am not very much used to being called ‘Kuninaga-san’. I’m not big on formality like this.”
“Ah, I see, I see. I cannot regard every parent by their first name, I am afraid.”
“No, of course not. It was… an automatic reaction. I’m sorry.”
Another chuckle. Tsurumaru prays Gokotai will forgive him for trying to score with his teacher, of all people but Munechika - what a name even, it sounds as beautiful as he is - caught him off guard.
It might as well have been the surprise of his life to step into this classroom, thinking nothing of it, just the usual parents’ evening at Goko’s new school, nothing out of ordinary, and then this. He swore to himself to always be prepared but he never failed as miserably as this.
“Ah, well, it was a pleasant surprise,” Munechika says and the anteriorly utmost friendly smile takes a different note as he says, “It’s a wonderful name, I must say. Very much so.”
“Oh. Ah.” A lack of better words at this second renders Tsurumaru useless for a very silent moment until he recovers the cool he has never had ever since he stepped into this room. “Thank you very much, then, Munechika-san,” he responds eventually and prays Munechika continues talking about his son.
He doesn’t.
Much rather, he smiles at him and Tsurumaru prays it insinuates what he thinks it does.
“Please, just call me Mikazuki.”