Chapter Text
It may seem sudden, but I'm a substitute teacher at Ayato's school for today.
My mother is a sociable mob character—more sociable than Ayato, my father, and me combined—so when her housewives' association heard that the teacher of class 2-2 got in a car accident, and there were no suitable replacements available, she volunteered me for the spot.
I have to applaud BL for its desperation. Just because you can bend men, you can bend educational procedure? Is it normal to ask a college student to be a temporary teacher? I'll have to ask Youji, Takimoto, Ryouta, Akihito, Masaya, and Touma later. They might shed some light of insight.
I'm not against earning some spare money, and it's true that Ayato's school is my alma matter, but it's my long-awaited day off.
I was hoping the flags would lay off.
Instead, I'm holding a pair of non-prescription glasses. My mother typically wears false eyelashes and contact lenses as a disguise whenever she's shopping outside. In our family, only my father needs glasses. This accessory was purchased by him to match as a married couple. Passed from father to mother to son.
"It'll be a fun surprise for Ayato," she said. "Your old teachers will look after you," she said. "The principal and vice principal remember you fondly," she said.
The third sentence was probably a lie. I don't recall doing anything in particular that would leave an impression on them.
I check my watch. 8:39.
For someone as industrious as Toujou, he must've already taken attendance, collected last night's homework, and passed out the graded papers. Exactly on time. Which is a relief, because it wouldn't do to build expectations of a handsome man with a late appearance. I am only an ordinary salty-faced college student, wholly unqualified for teaching.
Equipped with my lesson plans, I enter the homeroom of the elderly Ikoma-sensei, in charge of Home Economics.
How nostalgic. The old uniforms have been swapped with a neighboring academy as a symbol of interschool friendship, but the classrooms are the same. Even the 7x5 seating arrangement is the same.
① ② ③ ④ ⑤ ⑥ ⑦
⑧ ⑨ ⑩ ⑪ ⑫ ⑬ ⑭
⑮ ⑯ ⑰ ⑱ ⑲ ⑳ ㉑
㉒ ㉓ ㉔ ㉕ ㉖ ㉗ ㉘
㉙ ㉚ ㉛ ㉜ ㉝ ㉞ ㉟
I glance at the seat numbers 5, 6, 7, 12, 14, 19, 20, 21. Left, right, up, down, diagonals—Ayato is surrounded by guys, as expected of BL. Beforehand, I used the calculator app on my phone for the math. There are 20 male students and 15 female students. The chance of this happening is (20!/12!) divided by (35!/27!), which is 0.00535, which is 0.535%.
"I've been told that Ikoma-sensei was in a car accident this morning. He is safely recovering in the hospital. Our substitute teacher should be arriving any minute now. Today, let's show our best sides, so he can recover with an easy heart."
Toujou's classmates cheer like they did at the sports festival. How lively. Their lungs must be tired from carrying their student council president.
Since Toujou so graciously set the stage for me, I'll take over.
"Thank you." I step up to the podium. "Good morning, I'm the last-minute replacement for Ikoma-sensei. He sent me a selfie from the hospital to show everyone that he's in good hands." I connect my phone to the projector. Pulling down the white screen, I bring the wrinkly, wizened wink of their teacher into sharp focus. He has his hand shaped like half a heart, and his stern wife has a mismatched thumbs-up.
The students ripple with relieved smiles and laughter.
Except one.
"YOU."
Ayato's chair clatters to the floor with a comedic clunk. Day after day, he is becoming more and more like a main character. He is no longer following the family tradition of being faceless mob characters. So young, but he already has a high school sweetheart and an accompanying harem.
"Number 13, if you have a question, please raise your hand properly. Don't point at people." That younger brother of mine, causing trouble on my first and last day teaching at his school.
"GET OUT OF MY SCHOOL!"
Leisurely, lazily, I count on my fingers. "In the first place, the school doesn't belong to you. Do not damage public property."
I lift the second finger as Ayato lifts only his second finger. Is this why Toujou fell in love with him? He is practically a delinquent at this point. His rebellious age is still going strong.
"Second, I'm only here for today, so everybody can call me Today-sensei."
Wiggling three fingers in a wave, I say: "Third, I believe that your class president said to show your best sides for the sake of Ikoma-sensei." I plaster on a bright smile, secretly tucking my laughter in my dark brown coat pocket.
This is surprisingly fun.
"Other than Number 13, does anyone have any questions for me before the morning homeroom period ends? You have approximately eight minutes." Inaudibly, I clear my throat. "Yes, Number 3."
"Are you Ayato's father? You look so alike."
Starting with a female mob character might've been a mistake.
Hmm, I'll alternate between girls and boys for questions. Gender equality is important. The male population outnumbers the female population.
"I am twenty years old." I ignore the boyish, boisterous snickers from the back row, where Misato is sitting. "Despite his immaturity, I assure you that Number 13 is a high school student. Do the math."
A stunned silence. Ah, am I someone who looks like a middle-aged man?
"Don't go silent. If there are no more questions, I'll go home." I clap my hands once to get their attention. "Next is Number 21."
"Hello, Ayato's older brother, do you remember me? I visited your house with Toujou and Yanagi. You were sitting on the couch, reading a cat magazine." His hair is symmetrically parted in the middle.
What tremendous memory retrieval skills, worthy of being a true mob character.
"I remember you." Though I'm unsure if the author remembers you. "Ayato has mentioned that he plays online games with you and Yanagi-kun. Good luck on completing your missions." Try not to gamble on the gacha. Trading money for virtual pixels isn't healthy.
"Thank you, Today-sensei."
Quick on the uptake. I'm pleased that he has adapted to the anonymous name. Earlier, I met with the other four teachers for the second-year students, who suggested it to make me feel more welcome in the workplace. To them, I am Today-san.
That female teacher has saved me from the plot development of nicknames coined by a young student. Her face is extra blurry, so she's probably my type, but she has a wedding ring. I'm not shameless enough to flirt with my older coworker who is happily married to a lucky man. Professionalism is a scarce resource in BL.
"Number 28."
"Are you really Ayato's older brother? I thought he had the memory of a shitty jellyfish, the body of a chicken carcass, the eyes of a beached squid, the ambition of a salted sardine, the typing speed of a sloth, the sitting posture of a kangaroo, the standing posture of a meerkat, and the personality of a sunfish who can't survive on his own."
"Yeah, I had the impression of a walking, talking wallet," chimes in Number 27. "Or an alcoholic piñata. Or a taxi driver."
Briefly, a vein pulses on my forehead. I smooth it out. Deep breaths, deep breaths. "Ayato, I didn't know that you wanted to be a zoologist. Since you're adamant about acting like you were raised by wolves, I should've abandoned you to them."
"Aniki, you absolutely did, don't lie!" This egocentric con artist is exaggerating to this extent.
"Then. I. Should've. Tried. Harder."
Out of the blue, Toujou barks out an ugly laugh, extremely at odds with his beautiful appearance. Everybody stares. Blushing from humiliation, he sinks in his seat.
"It's too early in the morning... Somebody, please cut the ground open so it can swallow me whole... I'm not the real Toujou Iori, I'm an imposter..."
For all his perfection, Toujou is only a high school boy, capable of making mistakes.
"Number 11, I have a knife."
"Today-sensei, why do you have such a knife? I thought you were Ayato's responsible older brother. As class president, I'll have to confiscate it."
"Ta-da! It's a magic tool for cutting the ground open."
"...That's a plastic knife."
Without moving from my position at the podium, I pitch it into the recycling bin.
Shit. I'm careless with my actions because I'm accustomed to annoying Ayato and his boyfriend. Not only do I have an imaginary audience of readers, but I also have a real audience of judgmental, hormonal high school students. Hahaha... hah... I must be more anxious than I thought. Regardless of flags, it's natural to strive for a friendly first impression.
"Number 19."
"How do you maintain your clear skin?"
Not to stereotype, but that is not the question I was expecting from a burly guy with an afro, whose height rivals Misato's 191 cm. I'm genuinely caught off-guard.
"Sorry, I've already suffered through puberty, so I don't have to deal with the problems of being a teenager." I shrug. "When I'm older, my skin cells will naturally give up on trying. Enjoy your youth, Nineteen-kun."
He nods with a crestfallen expression.
"Let the adults do their jobs." I think back on the plethora of absent adults in BL. "Schedule an appointment with a dermatologist or a school counselor. They aren't getting paid to sit there like a background prop." So many cliché issues could be solved by applying a reliable, reasonable adult to the situation. Unfortunately, that would significantly reduce the released issues of Shoujo Beat and Shounen Jump.
"Thank you, sir."
"Glad to be of assistance. Number 26, is that your hand over there?" I squint at the Guro Lolita girl showing off her acrylic nails. I've seen a variety of tacky flower backgrounds from BL characters. In comparison, her gothic gloves and jangly jewelry are elegant and inoffensive to the eyes.
"Today-sensei, what college do you attend?"
"△△ University."
Finally, a boring, normal question from the unlikeliest of sources. Goes to say that I can't judge a book by its cover. Guro Lolita Girl must be a supporting character, not a messy main character.
"Wow, isn't that the highly selective school that has high-spec handsome men?" asks a male mob character, seated as Number 12, in between Toujou and Ayato.
I can see the fujoshi and fudanshi eyeing his seat enviously.
"Handsome men?" Ayato scoffs. "If you want to butter him up, try harder. It's too transparent if you flatter a loser with implausible things. Start smaller, Satou."
"Have you met your older brother's friends? They must be good-looking."
"He has no friends."
"What he said," I confirm. Actually, Ayato is assisting me from the shadows. I don't need ambitious high school girls approaching me to introduce them to handsome men. I'm already bogged down by a few of my female classmates bugging me about Takimoto, Touma, and Youji. They're lesbians. Green with envy and green with love.
Being a peaceful dove for BL and GL is anything but peaceful.
I decide to call on Yanagi. He cuts a pitiful figure, pushed to the sidelines. "Number 8." Hmm, now Ayato is angry. Again. I'm not angry, so where did he dig up the audacity to be angry?
"Today-sensei, I didn't know you, um, wore glasses," Yanagi says. "When Ayato complained about you needing to go to an eye doctor, I thought he was being sarcastic."
The forgotten love rival didn't phrase it into an actual question, but I get the general gist.
"These?" I take off the glasses, blinking from an ingrained habit. "They're a good luck charm from my father." Narrowly, I avoid tapping the metallic arm of the glasses to my chin. Best not to behave in a way that plants bombs. There is a thriving community of glasses fetishists in Boy's Love.
Originally, I wore them to not displease my parents, who made puppy eyes at me. I was also a little bit curious if Ayato's selective hearing extended to selective blindness. Would he see through my paper-thin disguise? BL phenomena is mysterious and acquiring more data wouldn't hurt. My stealth level: zero.
In this world, to be passive is to push oneself into the rosebushes. No BL, no bara, no yuri.
When I bend, it will be bending on one knee to propose to my girlfriend, who I plan on sincerely dating with the intention of marriage. Not that I have a girlfriend.
"Since they have non-prescription lenses, Ayato used to pretend to be Junior Detective Ayato." The duty of an older brother is to annoy his younger brother. "Of course, these glasses were oversized, so they kept sliding off his nose. He was such a stupid little brat. Still is."
Somebody whispers to the side, "It seems that the legendary brother complex of class 2-2 is mutual."
"Shh, Today-sensei is talking."
Mind you, your temporary teacher can hear both of you talking, loud and clear.
"Can I borrow the good luck charm from Ayato's dad?" Yanagi blurts out randomly. "Uh, well, sorry for wearing your clothes without permission when I did a clothing swap with Ayato, Toujou, and Misato at your house... Sorry, umm, please forget that I asked for something so strange... Since I'm not good at studying, I thought... Never mind!"
Yanagi is my solace in this BL whirlwind romance, since he won't waver from Ayato. This is a good excuse for moving this flag from myself to Yanagi. Now if my parents ask about the glasses, I can tell them the truth. He helpfully told me about a BL event that I missed, which I'll grill Ayato about later. I'll give him these glasses as a gesture of gratitude.
"Sure. You can return them to Ayato afterwards." Even though he has chosen Toujou, I can't help but root for the underdog. Since Yanagi can't call Ayato on his cellphone before he pops up at our house, I'll create an opportunity for him to be closer with my little brother. I place the glasses in the plain black case, passing it to a female student sitting in the front row. "Please pass it to Number 8."
"I knew you were lazy, but to think that you won't even walk the short distance to Yanagi's seat... Talk about pathetic. I'm ashamed to share blood with you." Ayato crosses his arms. "Are we really related? We don't resemble each other at all."
"You do."
"You do."
"You do."
"Our class president is the only one who believes in you." Stating this sentence matter-of-factly, his fujoshi classmate flips a page on her sketchpad, scribbling furiously. "Hey, your older brother is cute. Can I marry your mom and become your stepmom?"
"You're free to go," I blandly announce as the shriek of the school bell and Ayato echoes through the hallway.
8:50. Five minutes to find the Home Economics classroom.
First period hasn't started, but I'm already this tired.