Chapter Text
Sometimes, Kyojuro regrets telling Obanai things.
“So - her name is Mitsuri Kanroji.”
Obanai turned only his neck, his eyes holding a distant yet intensely focused look down the school hall, where the woman named Mitsuri was. Kyojuro’s never seen Obanai hold such an expression towards a warm-blooded human before. He only did it with snakes and serial killer podcasts.
“Indeed! She’s an upcoming painter,” Kyojuro extrapolated, remembering Obanai didn’t care much for the arts and hoping that will deter his childhood friend’s growing excitement.
“Meaning she is skilled with her hands.”
Oh boy. Kyojuro could see the police sirens already.
He coughed, trying to reign Obanai’s attention back before the restraining order did. “I suppose so. Anyways, uh, so how’s Kaburamaru doing? I heard he finally moved on from Sayaki.”
“Oh, yes. Sayaki.” Obanai rotated his head back around, Mitsuri briefly forgotten as he reached up a hand to pet the snake. The mere name of Kaburamaru’s ex-girlfriend caused the poor reptile to wither, hanging loosely from his owner’s shoulders like a deflated tube. “He still needs time to process, but the worst is over. He is no longer trying to crawl into her clothes.”
“You’re still banned from the library though, correct?”
Obanai gave a small nod while Kaburamaru sulked, but then grew a determined glint in his eye. “But this Kanroji woman. How old is she? And what is her shoe size?”
Kyojuro could only give a helpless shrug. “I don’t know, a little younger than us; maybe size seven? I wanted to warn you because she’ll be stopping by your classroom in a bit. She’s been hired to liven up the campus, but now I feel like I should warn her instead.”
“You are right, Kyojuro. Perhaps you should introduce us.” Kyojuro wanted nothing more than to never let that happen. It would be like handing a stick of dynamite the match.
He had to shake his head, arms folded across his chest. “I don’t think it’s a great idea. Not that I think you’ll kidnap her and dump her scalped body in the woods, but I’ve known you since you were a kid, and you don’t give off comforting first impressions.”
Obanai blinked slowly, taken aback from the statement. “I thought our first meeting went amazing.”
“Your parents kept you in the basement for the first twelve years of your life, and my father rescued you. I met you clawing at the walls of your hospital room.”
“Yes, and? I turned out alright.” Kyojuro felt very tired all of a sudden.
“We had to soundproof Senjuro’s room because your night terrors were giving him anxiety attacks.”
“Look, Kyojuro, we both know Senjuro would not stop peeing the bed any other way.”
“He was three.”
Obanai continued to have a ‘what of it?’ expression, eyes narrowed in disbelief that his childhood friend and honorary step-brother wasn’t having his back. “This is the first time I ever felt anything towards a female–”
“Women, Obanai. They like going by the term women, or better yet, people.”
“–and I am going to make contact with her whether you approve or not.”
Kyojuro wracked his brain for a comeback, an excuse, anything to keep the dynamite from touching the match, but he knew how stubborn Obanai was. And who knows, this might be good for him. “Alright,” he said, exhaling before he changes his mind, “I’ll help you. Mostly because I fear for Kanroji’s safety and mental well being. The last time you were this excited was when you found a dead deer on the road.”
“I still have the body if you want to see it later, it’s become a lovely chair. For now, Kyojuro, let us initiate conversation with Kanroji.”
“Sounds good! But I have a list of topics you shouldn’t bring up during this. First is definitely your attempted castration.”
“I still have everything! It still works!”
“Yes, but no one wants to hear that when meeting someone new. Next is all of Kaburamaru’s ex-girlfriends, anything to do with taxidermy, and your essays on why that bunny cop movie needed more nudity. Do not mention any of those things.”
Obanai furrowed his brow. His topics of discussion has dwindled by a significant amount. “Noted. I shall defer to your guidance for now.”
They made their way over to the poor unsuspecting artist, who was busy speaking with Dr. Kochou. With her back turned to them, it was Shinobu who spotted them first. Her eyes scanned over Obanai’s steadfast gait and Kyojuro’s unspoken plea to run away and never look back.
“Oh geez, this could be bad. Look, Mitsuri, it’s two teachers at this highly respected school, who definitely have thought of what they’re going to say before they open their pathetic mouths.”
Mitsuri turned to meet them, smiling wide as the sun, her bright green eyes sparkling with delight. Whatever plan that formed within Obanai’s mind fizzled out as he stopped in his tracks, dumbstruck.
“Hello there, I’m Mitsuri Kanroji! I’ll be decorating these walls and classrooms with my art. It’s nice to meet the both of you!” She bowed to them, her long braids bouncing with each shake of her head. In her arms were a bag of supplies, already scoping out the various rooms she’ll be working in. “I hope we can get along!”
“I am Kyojuro Rengoku! I hope we get along as well, and this is Obanai Iguro. Obanai, say hello!” He nudged the shorter man, who had remained stock still the entire time. All eyes turned to him, awaiting a response, yet all he did was stare up at Mitsuri.
She tilted her head in return, a hand going up to her cheek. “Is there something on my face?”
“Marry me.”
Kyojuro pushed Obanai’s head down, forcing him to bow. “He means, he’s married to the idea of you working your magic at our school! In fact, Obanai loves painting, his favorite colors are black and white! His least favorite colors are the rest of them!”
“Oh, my favorite color is pink! Though, I guess you can tell from my hair color. It’s natural too, I promise!” Mitsuri beamed, seeming to have not realized the verbal grenade thrown at her.
“Yes, color is amazing, don’t you agree Shinobu?”
“Absolutely. I love it when light reflects off my retina. Very cool.” Shinobu nodded, already wishing Obanai to get smited and rid them of this horrible encounter. “Now, I remember Iguro had mentioned something about loving reptiles over humans, so he probably has to go back to his dark, humid room to watch lizards mate. Nice meeting you two, never get near us again.”
“You are so wise, Shinobu, so wise! Come, Obanai, we should go!” Kyojuro picked the other man up, an easy task considering their height difference.
Obanai pushed the other’s hand away from him, glaring at Shinobu for good measure before turning to Mitsuri. “Question, Kanroji.” She nodded, smiling. “What are your thoughts on premarital sex?”
“Obanai.” Kyojuro struggled to hold a hand over Obanai’s mouth, regretting letting Obaani even know there was a sentient being named Mitsuri in the first place.
“Call me! Wait, no, I will just figure out your phone number and address! I will find you!” Obanai said before he’s forcefully dragged down the hall, Shinobu ushering Mitsuri as far away from him as possible.
Kyojuro brought Obanai to the teacher’s lounge, already seeing Sanemi and Uzui playing poker. He placed his friend down gently, taking a moment to breathe and process what just happened, before reopening his eyes and grabbing Obanai by the shoulders. “What was that?”
“What was what?” Uzui looked up from his cards.
“I am in love,” Obanai declared, hand going over his heart.
Sanemi made a face. “I thought that was, like, biologically impossible for cold-blooded animals.”
Obanai failed to retort, walking to the window to gaze out at the sky. “Incredible, everything looks so much brighter now. Did anyone else know you could feel the sun?”
Uzui folded, dropping his cards on the table. He was cheating anyways. “He’s got it bad.”
“He failed to reply to the reptile jab, he’s fallen harder than I’ve ever seen anyone fall.” Kyojuro watched as Obanai marveled at the wonders of natural sunlight. “I don’t want him to scare Kanroji away, she offered a very generous price per piece.”
“Think about it, man. This could be his one shot at love, like losing your virginity. It only happens once.”
“Disgusting, Uzui, we’re in a high school.”
“I would love to lose my virginity to such a woman,” muttered Obanai, fingertips touching the cold window. “I bet the carpets match the drapes.”
Sanemi recoiled in disgust, throwing his cards into the nearby garbage bin. He looked between Uzui and Kyojuro before turning to Giyuu, who was seated in the room though had yet to be acknowledged in any way. “Tomioka, you weigh in on this.”
Giyuu opened his mouth. “I think that love is –”
“I think we should encourage this!” Uzui stood up, beating a fist over his chest with a wide grin. “Worst thing that happens is Iguro never loves again and turns into a raging incel, and that is a risk I, Uzui Tengen, am willing to take!”
“You’re only saying that because your wives are all out of town.”
“Bingo! I’m bored and nothing good is on TV.”
“I think that love is,” attempted Giyuu once more.
“You do realize that if this goes poorly then we won’t have anything colorful to put on the walls?” Kyojuro crossed his arms over his chest.
“So?” Sanemi grunted. “We’ll just make the students do an art project and hang those up instead.”
“No! I want this building to look nice!”
“I cannot wait to show her my collection of skin,” continued Obanai, now leaning fully against the window, face pressed into the glass. Normally Kyojuro would be concerned if anyone else said that, but this was Obanai so he knew it was preserved snakeskin. Hopefully.
“But, but, but,” tutted Uzui, “if things go well we can even get a discount and use that extra money however we please.”
He sidled up behind Kyojuro, placing his hands on the other’s shoulders to lean near his ear. “We would be able to buy better chairs that don’t squeak.” Uzui licked his lips. “And have wheels.”
Kyojuro looked at Obanai, who was now looking at a picture of Mitsuri on his phone – when did he get that?– and back to Uzui who had a shit-eating grin stretched across his face. The sanity of a innocent women, or chairs? Kyojuro gulped, feeling his adam’s apple bob in his throat.
“I’m in.”
-
Uzui stepped into the room.
Shinobu refused to turn her head. “Please leave.”
“I haven’t said anything yet.”
“You’re going to ask me if I can put in a good word about Snakeman to Mitsuri.” She squinted into her microscope, more interested in detailing butterfly wing patterns than whatever inane scheme Uzui was trying to place before her. “I’d much prefer he curl up inside of a dumpster and fester.”
Uzui treaded lightly, making sure he won’t get stung by Shinobu’s verbal stinger. “I take it he hasn’t made a good impression on you?”
“Actually, he’s rather polite compared to others. But Mitsuri’s been my friend for a long time, and I don’t need that freak hogging up her busy schedule.”
“Do I smell jealousy?” Uzui felt a grin curl against his lips.
Shinobu glanced over at the music teacher as she held up a rag, smile beatific. “Do you want to smell this ammonia?”
“Noted.” Uzui took a step away, backing out of the range of fire. This might be difficult if Shinobu was going to get in the way. He’ll have to use his trump card. “Though I’m sure Tomioka will love to know whose been moving all of his belongings two inches to the right for the past week.”
Shinobu’s stare was nothing less than acerbic, a spiked bat dipped in honey.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
-
It’s easy to find Mitsuri. Either she’s working, sleeping, or eating, and the last one took up a third of her daily routine. Shinobu gives her best friend a warm hug, already feeling the day’s annoyances melt away. There was something about Mitsuri that made everything feel better.
Maybe it were her rockin’ tits, ones that Shinobu was conveniently eye-level with, and could sink into like warm pillows.
They find themselves chattering together in the cafeteria. Mitsuri’s part of the table is stacked heavy with empty bowls and cups, while Shinobu has a single tea to tide her over.
“I’m so glad I got this job, I can bring happy art to my friends along with the students! Plus, I can hang out with you more!” Mitsuri was so easy to please. It was like having a dog, but the dog also had rockin’ tits and ate more than a whale.
Shinobu hummed in response, soaking in this calming atmosphere. She enjoyed it for all of a minute before she felt a sour presence in the air.
Opening her eyes she saw it over Mitsuri’s shoulder. There, in the shadows of the corner of the room. Her smile tightened.
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it? Have you gotten to know any of the teachers?” Shinobu inquired. Perhaps a specific teacher watching them from afar, his mismatched eyes zeroed in on Mitsuri like a disturbed hawk.
Mitsuri nodded, beaming all the more. “I got to talk to several of them about what type of designs they’d like and the wall space, so many of them are so charming! Oh, but there was one teacher in particular…” She flushed a bit, looking down at her food. Shinobu leaned closer, silently prompting her to continue. “You know that teacher with the snake?”
“Yes I do. Obanai Iguro if I’m correct. What about him?” Shinobi surreptitiously shot a glare over to the man in question, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. Maybe he’ll fail without even touching the starting line.
“He’s…” Shinobi held her breath “so outrageously cool!”
She choked on the tea. Mitsuri was immediate to run over and swat her on the back, causing every bone in her body to shatter to dust.
“Are you okay?” Mitsuri’s big green eyes shimmered with worry, on the verge of tears.
“Ye-yeah, must have inhaled wrong.” She made sure not to mention the new bruise Mitsuri just gave her. “But, go on about Iguro. You said he was disgusting?”
Mitsuri sat back down, relieved her friend wasn’t dying. “What? Oh, no I said he was cool!” She let out a dreamy sigh. “After the talk in the morning, I went to the chemistry room and tried to talk to him about the art. He stared at me from a crack in the door and told me to paint myself naked. Isn’t that so mysterious?”
Shinobu felt any remnants of the jolly good times slipping away, a migraine forming in her temple. Uzui’s words rung in the back of her mind like a monkey beating on gong, as well as the advice her sister would always say to her:
“The worst thing that could happen is someone dies!”
She certainly felt ready to commit murder. Inhaling a deep breath, Shinobu checked over her options. Mitsuri was too good of a person to waste on Obanai, or perhaps it was just Shinobu’s selfish tendencies slipping forth.
Then again... She shot another glance at where Obanai was, now joined by Uzui trying to give her a knowing smirk and Kyojuro giving a nervous grin.
She sighed. Perhaps someone dying would be the least of their worries.
“If you want, I can set up a meeting between you two to hash out the finer details.”
“Really? Shinobu, you’re the best!”
-
Kyojuro felt like he was watching a car crash in slow motion.
“I’m getting married,” Obanai said for the sixth time that evening. “I wonder what our children will look like.”
Uzui, on the other hand, was cracking up too much to be of any help. “You met her once. You’re jumping so many guns you’re gonna break a world record.”
Giyuu. “I think that love is–”
“Shut up. All of you, shut up.” Sanemi grit his teeth so hard they screeched. “You better not fuck this up. Kanroji said she’d paint my mom’s favorite flowers for my classroom.”
The men were crowded in the teacher’s lounge, trying to beat out the many, many dents of Obanai’s behavior that would come off as repellent. So far, they’ve convinced him to not bring Kaburamaru’s newest lover or tattoo Mitsuri’s name on his body.
“I’ll bring her favorite flowers,” Obanai suggested, alreadying typing it into his phone.
Kyojuro quirked a large eyebrow. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve developed a case file on her,” declared Obanai, budding sociopath, “It truly was a mistake to put everything online. I’ve got her history down to her great, great, great grandmother who was a swordswoman in the Taisho Era. She also has a rabbit named Dumpling. And before you ask, her favorite flowers are pink peonies.”
All the others were stunned into momentary silence at the lengths Obanai has gone for this woman he’s barely met. Uzui held back a single tear. “You’d be so fucking rich if you ever put this much interest into something other than Kanroji and snakes. I can see you in another timeline, you’re on a rooftop with a sniper rifle in your hands, ready to take out a corrupt tyrant and lead the revolution from the dark. Instead here you are: simping.” He mourned all of the wasted potential.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t warn Kanroji about this beforehand?” Kyojuro has faced many battles before, but never were as daunting as this one. One little slip and he can kiss those new chairs goodbye… oh, and also traumatize a poor woman.
Uzui gave him a ‘I got this’ smirk, pulling out a small earpiece from his bag.
“I planned ahead and brought this. Iguro has this in one ear, and we’ll make sure he doesn’t say anything disgusting. He’s got long hair so it’ll hide it well.” He handed it over to Obanai, who held it in two fingers like a pill, squinting.
“Perhaps I should just be myself,” he offered.
The other men in the room all shook their heads. “God no. Do not be yourself.”
Sanemi nodded. “You’re a lunatic but you’ve got some good parts buried deep, deep beneath your troubled psyche, and if you actually want to not die alone swallowed by a snake you need to not freak Kanroji out.”
“Yes, soothe her into the weirdness. Like quicksand.”
Obanai tilted his head, conflicted on whether these men were trying to help him or not. He glanced down at the order of peonies he bought, just as pink as Mitsuri’s beautiful hair, and sighed as he stuck the earpiece in place.
Kaburamaru flicked his tongue, impassive to the whole ordeal.
-
The venue was perfect, a small yet comfortable cafe that had a second floor to lounge in, possessing a modern vibe with eclectic furniture, large cushions to sit on, and plenty of sweets for Mitsuri to enjoy. It was popular with students, but since this was a school night there weren’t many customers – just enough people in case witnesses were needed.
Shinobu found herself sitting in one such seat, her butt on a faux-fur rug as she drinks a caffè mocha, the creme resembling a butterfly. It cost fifteen dollars and tasted amazing. To her side sat Sanemi, taking a picture of his own food that consisted of a parfait with marshmallows in the shape of bunnies, the straw being made of cookie, and a brick toast that’s covered in whipped cream and strawberries with chocolate inside. Just looking at it caused her blood sugar to rise.
“I hope the others arrive soon. Sitting here any longer and I’ll need to go on a diet.”
Sanemi checked his phone’s clock, but only after uploading his food photo to instagram for seven likes (all from his family). “Got a few minutes. Doubt anyone’s going to be late for this. I haven’t seen them this pumped since they tried seeing who could drink more redbull and still get through their classes. Uzui pissed a rock.”
“It’s truly a miracle our school is still standing. Oh look, here they are.” Shinobu waved as Kyojuro and Uzui appeared, both incognito to the best of their abilities. Uzui wore jeans and a jacket with his name on it in rhinestones while Kyojuro had on sunglasses in the middle of the day. She looked around them but found no one else following. “Where’s Tomioka?”
Kyojuro blanched. “I thought he was with you.”
The loss of Tomioka was grieved for all of seconds before Obanai shuffled in. He was dressed properly, always having held professional taste in fashion along with his ever-present face mask, but the heavy bags under his eyes foretold he didn’t get much sleep.
He didn’t even give the others a passing glance as he slumped into his seat. Kaburamaru was absent from his shoulders, though there was a telling white tail poking out of Obanai’s messenger bag.
Uzui held up his phone, of which the earpiece should be connected to. “You good, king? You look like you got hit by a car.”
Obanai flinched, looking around, before remembering their plan. He thankfully had the sense to put in the earpiece.
He found the others easily enough. They were sitting no more than ten feet away. “I was too nervous to sleep,” he confessed. Then, quieter, “I want Kanroji to like me.”
Kyojuro pulled the phone over to himself, unphased by Uzui’s grunt of discontent. “I hope it works out for you too. If anything, you’ve grown to be a reasonably functional adult. I’m here for you, and I believe in you!” He gave Obanai a thumbs up, who returned it before his back straightened, eyes focusing as Mitsuri, right on time, came up the stairs.
She gave a large wave, smiling as she approached Obanai. “Iguro! I’m so happy you agreed to meet me here! This cafe is lovely, and the food looked so good!”
Obanai felt his soul dry up and coil like a raisin under the sun. His lips were dry, shoulders too tense, grunting out a blunt “Thank you for coming” that belied his racing heartbeat.
She took a seat, pure sunshine that blinded Obanai, close to burning him to cinders at their proximity. This was a lot more than he thought it’d be.
“Should we order first? I’m a little hungry.” Mitsuri bit at her lower lip, the familiar rumblings of her stomach despite having eaten a snack before she stepped out the door. “I haven’t been here in a while, so I wonder if there’s been any changes to the menu! Do you have anything in mind?”
Obanai continued to stare at her, causing her to hunch her shoulders and hold the menu up between them, as if a physical barrier. He jolts, looking to the side, before returning his sights and blinked like a human should.
“The pancakes sound good.”
Mitsuri feels her mouth water at the mere mention, gaze going to the section on pancakes. She came close to squealing as she found there was a special on the pancakes right now. It was three pancakes tall, and a slice of butter in the shape of a bunny rested on top, drowned in a generous amount of honey. The powdered sugar was thick enough to snort a line.
“They do, but so do the waffles and bread, and toast, and lattes, and those hot chocolates with the itty bitty marshmallows with hearts!” This could be a challenge. Their table wasn’t big enough for everything. Perhaps if they pulled in another table? Oh, but that would be greedy.
“I’ll order everything on the menu--” Obanai started, a glean in his eyes right before he winced and held a hand over his ear. He spared a glance to a table to the side, Mitsuri seeing a person that resembled Kyojuro with sunglasses. It probably wasn’t though. Kyojuro never wore sunglasses. Obanai coughed and spoke after a second, his voice halting and robotic, as if reading from a script being fed to him. “On second thought, how about something light? The night is young after all.”
Mitsuri furrowed her brow. It was 10:45am.
“Uhm, okay. Then just the pancakes, please, with extra powder, extra whipped cream, extra strawberries, extra honey, extra chocolate chips, extra syrup, and extra butter.” The cafe was very state of the art, utilizing an app that allowed them to input an order in real time and be served without any lines. It left them with more time together, something Mitsuri had been looking forward to. She placed the menu down, hands in her lap. “While we wait, tell me a bit about yourself. I’ve only heard a little bit so far.”
Obanai held a concentrated look. Mitsuri could hear the people to the side whispering to each other, but opted not to eavesdrop.
Her date gave a cough before he began. “My name is Obanai Iguro, I am the science teacher at Kimetsu Academy. I am 27 years old with a PhD in environmental biology & toxicology, and wildlife biology. I am a licensed herpetologist, and have been given awards for my groundbreaking research in the fields of snake husbandry. I make six figures a year, and, as of my last doctor’s appointment, I am fertile.”
Mitsuri didn’t know what to say. It was a lot of achievements, especially given his age and demeanor. If Mitsuri was honest she thought he’d been picked up from under a rock and given a labcoat. She didn’t even know what words like ‘toxicology’ and ‘fertile’ meant. Already she felt her face being covered in sweat.
“That’s really amazing, you must be super duper smart, huh Iguro? Ah, shouldn’t I call you Dr. Iguro?” Her cheeks grew hotter. “I’m sorry! I don’t speak to successful men often!”
In front, Obanai was breathing in and out at a rapid pace. “Iguro is fine,” he whimpered. Another pause. “What about you, Miss Kanroji?”
About her? “Uhm… well, uh, I recently got my bachelors in contemporary arts this year. I’ve been working on pieces for a gallery installation this Fall, and Mr. Ubuyashiki called me back asking if I could make art for the school. I-I was really excited when he said that, since I used to go there.” He was an exceedingly kind man, who encouraged her when she worried her cutesy art wouldn’t be taken seriously.
The sharp edges of Obanai’s face softened, his demeanor turning pliable under Mitsuri’s excitement. She felt a little more like herself, being able to gush about her latest projects and why she became an artist in the first place.
“Seeing art always made me fuzzy inside, and it’s so interesting to learn the feelings behind each piece. I want to spread that feeling to everyone else, and make everyone happy.” She gave a large smile, fidgeting under Obanai’s stare that had only grown in intensity since she began talking. He could burn a hole through her if he tried.
“That is…” His mouth moved under the facemask he wore, before the tenseness returned to his shoulders. “An admirable goal. I will be supporting you as best I can.”
“Really?” Mitsuri’s smile stretched all the more. Obanai was such the serious type, it was reassuring to know even he liked her work.
He nodded once, as if signing a vow. He pointed at her, brows furrowed. “I would follow you to the ends of this earth, to where time and space decay beyond recognition. Should the wolves come knocking at your door I will become the blade in which you slaughter them all-”
Someone at the other table coughed. The people there were huddled, some shaking. Mitsuri was sure someone was hyperventilating.
Obanai settled down immediately, blinking like a human and keeping his hands in his lap. He went from panting maniac to sedated puppy at a rapid pace. It was a feat in its own right. The food arrived, two waiters struggling to get Mitsuri’s pancake to her safely. When it fell upon the table the wood creaked with a foreboding sway.
“It looks amazing!” She had to keep from drooling all over herself, snapping a quick picture to commemorate the fluffy decorations and cute appearance, before she could dig in. Right as the pancake could touch her lips she noticed Obanai was watching yet again. Something about him made the tips of her ears redden, wanting to hide behind her braids. “Oops, I should wait for your food, shouldn’t I? Please forgive my rudeness!” She could eat with her eyes instead, even as her fork shook in her hand.
“No!” Obanai’s eyes widened at his own words, as if they fell out before he could stop them. “I-I mean… no, it’s alright. Enjoy yourself, I have a coffee, that’s more than enough for me.”
Mitsuri eyed him as if preparing for a take-backsies, but when none came she put the pastry into her mouth. She gave a whole body shiver at the taste, it was simply life altering! The warmth of the pancakes worked beautifully with the whipped cream, a delicate balance only punctuated further by the honey and strawberries. She was in flavor heaven!
All too soon it was gone. She was surprised how fast she demolished it, still licking syrup off the spoon. One more couldn’t hurt.
Obanai coughed, alerting her that he was still there. She’d completely forgotten, wrapped up in her treat! “Do you want another? I’m more than happy to -” a beat “If you’re done then how about a walk through the park? The sky is lovely - er, radiant, just as you are.”
A part of her wanted to refuse. There weren’t any pancakes outside. But it would be rude otherwise. Obanai could see the forlornness in her eyes and could only dig his nails into his thigh to keep from going back on his words. From across the way Not-Rengoku gave an obvious thumbs up.
Uzui’s grating voice came in through the earpiece, sometimes so loud Obanai was sure it could be heard through the entire building. “Good job so far, king. Once we’re in the park you can dazzle her with your gross snake facts. And then,” he made a fist, “you get her alone.”
“Jesus christ could you have phrased that any other conceivable way.” Shinobu watched the happy couple get their dishes and begin to depart. They would follow soon after but not enough to be conspicuous. Had Mitsuri been any stronger than a B- student she might’ve noticed their charade by now.
A buzz radiated from her purse, catching her attention as Shinobu watched Obanai lead Mitsuri to the park. Giyuu’s voice, vaguely distressed, entered her ear. “Shinobu, I tried to meet with you all but I lost my way. Can you come pick me up? I’m at the deportation center…”
“Uh huh,” Shinobu said, not listening. “Just put some ice on it baby and I’ll be there in a few.” She made contact with the snake, daring him to put his creepy, pale little body on Mitsuri. Obanai kept a respectful distance away, though it was clear he was beaming at their proximity. He probably is busy sniffing the air beside Mitsuri. Creep.
“No, no, no,” Giyuu pleaded, “You need to come now, I’m being sent to Mexico-”
“Buenos noches.” Shinobu closed her phone, getting up to move.
Sanemi eyed her with a wary look. “Is Giyuu gonna be okay?”
“This isn’t about him. Let’s go.”