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Kimetsu Academy, High School Department, Staff Room
“Night watch duty?” you question.
Before you, biology teacher Kanae Kochou nods. “Every day, a different teacher is assigned to patrol the campus overnight.”
“I didn’t realize Kimetsu Academy still did that,” you comment. As far as you knew, it was an ancient task that was no longer practiced at most schools. “I must have missed it in the job description.”
“Consider it under ‘other duties as assigned’,” Kanae jests. “Now, as the newest teacher, your first shift will be this Friday. Is that okay with you?”
You lived alone in your new apartment and had no plans as of yet, so you nod. “Will I need training?”
“Your training will happen during the shift,” Kanae informs. “There are specific tasks that need to be done properly, so an instructor will be with you to show you the ropes.”
“Oh? Who will be joining me?” you ask while taking a sip from the bottle of lychee soda on your desk.
“Rengoku-san was assigned to accompany you.”
You nearly spit out your drink. Kyoujurou Rengoku was the school’s beloved history teacher and coach of the kendo club. He was adored as a teacher, revered as a coach, and romantically admired by many of the high schoolers. As a student, having a crush on a teacher was inadvisable as it would only result in disappointment, but you couldn’t blame those adolescent students for the way they felt. If you were being totally honest, you—a grown ass adult—had a massive crush on him as well.
You found Kyoujurou’s sunny disposition and fiery enthusiasm incredibly endearing. He was a clear, summer day personified, and towards his pupils, he was nothing but encouraging and considerate.You’d even caught him impressively conversing with a deaf student using sign language once. Appearance-wise, it also didn’t help that he was practically sculpted by the gods. He may as well have been cut from marble, judging by the way that his muscles strained against his white dress shirt. It had only been two months since you started working at the academy as the culinary arts teacher, but you knew you had it bad.
Your heart would skip a beat every time Kyoujurou entered the staff room and energetically greeted you good morning, and whenever he swung by the newly expanded school kitchen (which was often, given his passion for food), you’d feel your palms get a little sweaty. Part of you wants to believe that Kyoujurou frequented your classroom because he genuinely enjoyed conversing with you, but it was really because the improved kitchen satisfied his many many foodie cravings. It had nothing to do with you at all.
You sigh heavily. As things currently stood, you were no better than the highschoolers with a hopeless crush on Rengoku-sensei.
“Kaneko-san?” Kanae calls out. You snap out of your daydream red with embarrassment, but thankfully Kanae is none the wiser. “Are you okay with Rengoku-san being your instructor?”
“Mhm. Rengoku-san is fine.” Very fine indeed. “I was just surprised that he’d be free on a Friday night. Doesn’t he have a girlfriend or something?” You want to facepalm yourself the moment the words come out of your mouth. Smooth, [F/N]. Real smooth.
Kanae, however, elegantly giggles. “Rengoku-san doesn’t have a girlfriend, but even if he did, he’d still be delighted to help.”
Inwardly you throw a triumphant fist into the air, but on the outside you hum a nonchalant “Mm, I see”.
“It’s settled then: you two will be on night watch duty on Friday,” Kanae concludes. “I’ll inform Principal Ubuyashiki.”
When she leaves the staff room, the reality of what was to come hits you full force: you were about to spend an entire night alone with Kyoujurou. It could either be a dream come true or a total nightmare, but you hope with all your might that it’s the former.
Friday comes swiftly, and before you know it, the final bell rings.
Senjurou, Kyoujurou’s little brother, approaches you with a few questions after class and you happily give him some cooking pointers. Apart from being the adorable chibi-version of Kyoujurou himself, Senjurou was such a delight to teach. Of all the middle-schoolers in his class he was easily the most attentive, and you could tell that he genuinely enjoyed cooking. He’s certainly not as rambunctious as his older brother, but he still had the same passionate flame in his heart.
You’re in the middle of discussing sweet potato recipes when you hear the knock on the door of your kitchen classroom.
“Senjurou,” a familiar voice calls. Your heart halts in your chest when you see Kyoujurou leaning against the doorframe. He’s in his keikogi and hakama, which means there must be Kendo practice this afternoon. As per usual, he looks good. Criminally good. “Mom and dad are waiting for you outside.”
“Just a moment, brother!” Senjurou pleads. “Kaneko-sensei was just teaching me how to make sweet potato fries!”
The sound of Kyoujurou’s hearty laughter fills the room, filling you with warmth. “Then by all means, let her finish. That’s a very important topic indeed.”
You briefly lock eyes with his golden-red ones and you give him what you hope to be a charming-and-not-at-all awkward smile. Despite its playful delivery, you know that his comment was genuine and not at all mocking. He’d made it abundantly clear that he was a big fan of sweet potatoes (a couple times too many, according to a certain hot-tempered math teacher), and that was more than likely why Senjurou was asking for more recipes.
Their brotherly love was so heartwarming. Your own younger brother couldn’t even be bothered to buy you a loaf of bread from the Kamado Bakery, and he lived two blocks away from it. At least he and his wife (who is arguably much nicer) produced two nieces that you lived to spoil, so there was that.
When you finish explaining how to fry sweet potatoes to crispy perfection, Senjurou runs over to his older brother, satisfied and grateful for your expertise. Kyoujurou ruffles the hair on his head, unruly flaming hair similar to his own, and you can tell from the adoring expression on his face that he loved his little brother dearly.
You inwardly groan as you begin collecting the plates that the students had left behind. This man could not get any more perfect.
“I’ll see you tonight, Kaneko-san!” Kyoujurou then says with a wave.
Senjurou looks up at him with sparkling eyes. “Tonight? Brother, are you and Kaneko-sensei going on a date?”
You nearly drop the stack of plates in your hand. Oh, Senjurou. His purity and innocence were going to be the death of you.
Kyoujurou, however, nonchalantly shakes his head. “No, it’s just a work thing.”
You feel yourself falter. If the plates didn’t shatter, then your heart surely did.
Four hours later, you arrive for your night watch shift.
You stand before the grand gates of Kimetsu Academy dressed in casual active wear, the sun already far below the horizon, and approach the security guard who appears to be packing up for the evening.
“So you’re on night watch duty, eh?” the older guard asks while examining your teacher ID. “Stay alert in the high school building, little lady. I hear that strange things happen there in the middle of the night.”
A chill runs up your spine, but you quickly brush it off. “Er, okay. Thanks for the warning.”
The school is eerily quiet when you enter. What is usually filled with the hustle and bustle of students and teachers alike has been reduced to a sinister emptiness, and the stillness of it all makes you a little uneasy. With your only source of light being the moonlight seeping through the windows, you quickly make your way up to the staff room. You and Kyoujurou had agreed to meet there earlier in the day, and much to your relief, you can see from the end of the hallway that the lights in that specific room are on. You hastily make your way there and feel relief flood through you when you find him inside working away at his desk.
“Kaneko-san!” he exclaims. The way he beams at the very sight of you makes your poor heart burst, and the fact that he isn’t in his usual attire piques your interest. He’s cozily dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and joggers, but even in something so simple, you can’t help but marvel at his toned figure.
“Good evening Rengoku-san,” you greet as casually as you can.
You walk over to your desk (which is conveniently situated across from his) and place your overnight bag on top of it. His owl-like eyes follow you the entire time, and even when you’re standing still, they remain fixated on you.
“Um… do I have something on my face?” you ask with embarrassment.
Kyoujurou shakes his head. “No! I’ve just never seen you in anything but your chef clothes before. I must say… it’s pleasantly refreshing!”
Your belly flutters at the compliment. Was that his way of checking you out?
“So are you ready for your first night watch shift?” he asks while setting his pen down.
“I want to say yes, but I don’t really know what to expect…” you confess sheepishly.
He crosses his arms and nods in understanding. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to drool at the strong flex of his biceps under his shirt.
“We have a long night ahead of us, but worry not—I’m going to take care of you!” he declares. You feel your cheeks bloom red and he must notice, because he immediately clears his throat and justifies his choice of words. “You know, so that you’re able to do this solo next time.”
Despite the twinge of disappointment in your chest, you hum in agreement. Oh, how you wished Kyoujurou would take care of you in other ways… but this was reality, not your daydreams.
“Have you eaten dinner yet?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Just some snacks,” you answer. If you’re being totally honest, you’d totally forgotten about dinner because you’d been too anxious about the night ahead. You’d tried on about six different outfits before deciding on the ‘I don’t look like I tried too hard but I definitely tried too hard’ look, and before you knew it, it was time to commute back to the academy. Your body certainly appreciates that you went for athleisure, but your stomach now rumbles for attention. “What about you?”
Kyoujurou shakes his head. “Just snacks as well. When the school day ended I was so busy with the kendo club and marking papers that I haven’t eaten a proper meal yet.”
The implication in his words makes your lips part in surprise. “Wait, you haven’t left the school?”
“Nope!” he confirms. “I was going to make something in the kitchen when I was done.”
“Allow me,” you offer. The school may have been a little creepy at this time, but the kitchen was your domain: your home away from home. You’d surely find solace there.
Kyoujurou blinks twice, considering it. “Are you sure?”
“I’m the culinary arts teacher,” you remind him playfully. “Cooking is what I do.”
You get a chuckle out of him and you can’t help but pat yourself on the back.
“Okay,” he agrees. “But I promise to join you soon. I only have half a stack left to grade.”
You nod in acknowledgment before waltzing out of the room and scurrying over to the kitchen. When you turn on the lights it’s exactly as you left it earlier in the day. The stainless steel counters and appliances are spotless and everything is in its rightful place—well, except for a random custard bun on the floor. You don’t recall that being there when you left, but you toss it into the trash, nonetheless. It pains you to have to throw such a perfectly good treat away, but it was necessary to avoid a mice situation.
You grab your trusty apron from its hook, tie it behind your back, and get to work. You walk over to the fridge and examine what you have to work with. There seems to be some leftover curry from your earlier class, so you decide on katsu curry for dinner. You wash the rice (of which the academy had an infinite supply), pour the grains into the cooker, and by the time the switch flips from ‘cook’ to ‘warm’, the curry is reheated and the chicken cutlets have been breaded and fried to perfection.
Kyoujurou walks in just as you finish plating both dishes into two shallow bowls.
“Something smells heavenly!” he comments. When he sees what you’ve made on the counter his eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning. “Is that katsu curry?”
You nod bashfully and he practically jumps for joy. Excitement is so adorable on him that you actively have to turn around to hide your smile. As you hang your apron back up, Kyoujurou walks over to the utensil drawer, grabs two sets of chopsticks, and pulls out two stools side-by-side.
“I almost don’t want to eat it,” Kyoujurou voices when you slide his share over to him. “It’s plated so professionally, like I’m at a restaurant or something.”
“Well if you don’t it will get cold,” you advise while making a chomping motion with your chopsticks.
“I did say almost ,” he reminds before digging in. You feel your katsu nearly go down the wrong pipe when Kyoujurou takes a bite and practically moans at the taste. “Delicious! This is the best katsu curry I’ve ever had.”
“You’re just saying that because you haven’t eaten a meal since lunchtime,” you reason. Your skin, however, tingles at the praise.
“I’m not,” Kyoujurou insists. “I dare say your katsu curry is better than Hinatsuru’s!”
You gasp dramatically. “Don’t let Uzui-san hear you say that.”
“I would brazenly say it to his face,” he declares with a megawatt grin.
From there the conversation flows pleasantly and effortlessly. When you realized you had a crush on Kyoujurou you began to feel a little nervous around him, but it’s moments like these that make you remember why you harboured a crush on him in the first place. You always felt comfortable in his presence, and he exuded a welcoming warmth that made him so easy to talk to.
He tells you about the time he tried to make katsu curry at home with Senjurou, which ended in disaster (and a very messy kitchen). He then tells you about his star pupil in the kendo club, Tanjirou Kamado, and you tell him about your most enthusiastic high-school student, Inosuke Hashibira.
“Really? Boar boy?” Kyoujurou asks in disbelief.
“Yes,” you answer. “He is surprisingly passionate about tempura.”
You then tell him about the first time you ever made tempura with your grandmother and he watches you attentively, listening to every word. As you recount the story you notice that Kyoujurou has one elbow on the counter and is leaning his cheek against an open palm. This relaxed posture, paired with the fascination in his eyes, gives you hope—hope that he was comfortable around you, too.
“Since I didn’t get a chance to help you cook, please allow me to wash the dishes,” Kyoujurou offers when you’ve both finished your meals. The fact that he’s already taken them both tells you that he isn’t taking no for an answer, so you gratefully accept. It’s almost like you two are playing house tonight, but you’re not complaining. It’s reassuring to know that both of you can be at ease when alone together.
While Kyoujurou works away at the sink (he’d rolled up his sleeves and you didn’t want to subject your poor heart to the sight of his splendid forearms), you decide to walk over to the adjacent kitchen connected to the canteen, the one used by Tengen’s wives (a.k.a. the charming kunoichi of the store and canteen). There should’ve been some mochi ice cream in the freezer there, and you figure that Kyoujurou wouldn’t be opposed to dessert.
When you open the connecting door, however, you come across a bizarre and horrifying sight.
“Hyo, hyo!” a chilling voice greets. It belongs to a grotesque creature with multiple arms, peculiarly placed eyes and mouths, and a body coming out of a… was that a vase? In one of its infant-like hands, it appears to be holding a steel potato masher. “I’ve never seen you here before. Are you a new teacher? I am Gyokko: Kimetsu Academy’s most terrifying youkai!”
You let out a piercing shriek. Was this… this haunted thing talking to you? Feeling the immediate need to defend yourself, you pick up the deadliest thing closest to you, which happens to be a meat cleaver from a nearby drawer.
“You… you were the one who left the custard bun on the floor,” you shakily realize.
“Oh yes, that strange treat,” the thing recalls. “I was most fascinated by it. Now I am curious about this strange contraption!”
He then begins bashing the potato masher against the countertop and your rage immediately overpowers your fear. You weren’t a particularly angry person, but good food going to waste and high-quality kitchenware being disrespected would not be tolerated.
“Drop it!” you demand while raising the cleaver towards the youkai. When you were first hired, you had requested only the finest kitchenware made of Nichirin steel, and Director Ubuyashiki was generous enough to approve your request. You taught anyone who held such pristine tools to use them with respect, and this thing would be no exception. “Have you no shame? You’re ruining precious steel!”
“Hyo hyo? Let’s see if you can take it from me then!” the youkai challenges.
Honestly you’re not even sure if your cleaver was going to work on this thing, but you figure it’s worth a try. You grip the handle tighter and ready yourself for an attack, but before you can even swing it, Kyoujurou bursts through the door. He protectively pulls you behind him and expertly throws some sort of paper onto the youkai’s face. He recites some sort of incantation and its effects are immediate. The youkai writhes in pain as it’s seemingly electrocuted before disappearing into a thin wisp of air with one final cry.
Your jaw drops in both shock and awe as Kyoujurou stands before you, poised and valiant. His expression is stern, not at all like the toothy smiles you’re accustomed to. The only time you’ve seen this look of razor sharp focus on him is in the gym, particularly during kendo practice. You may have creeped him through the slim of opening of the door a couple times too many, but with a sight that magnificent, it was hard not to be transfixed.
Well, until Kyoujurou turns around back in the present and seizes you by the shoulders.
“Are you okay, Kaneko-san?” he asks. Your mouth parts in surprise at the overwhelming amount of concern in his eyes. “You’re not hurt?”
“I-I’m fine,” you insist. Truthfully you’re stuttering because the way Kyoujurou is holding you is so protective and pure that it makes your knees quake. “What was that thing?”
“That,” he starts while releasing you, “was one of Kimetsu Academy’s ghosts.”
“One of?” you repeat incredulously. You knew the school was old, so there was bound to be some strange things afoot, but you never expected anything like this. The very concept of ghosts gave you the heebie-jeebies, but the fact that you were facing them with someone you trusted (and very capable of fending them off) makes it somewhat bearable.
“Yes,” Kyoujurou confirms while picking up the thin slip of paper that he’d thrown earlier. “There are two known ghosts in the high school department. They commonly come out at night, and the teachers on night watch duty have been instructed to eliminate them on sight with these talismans.”
At the word ‘talisman’, he waves the paper. Now that you get a closer look at it, there appears to be some symbolic words inscribed onto it. Some sort of spell, maybe.
Ah, you think. So this is what Kanae must have meant by ‘specific tasks that needed to be done properly’.
“I was supposed to tell you earlier,” Kyoujurou confesses while rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, “but I’m afraid that I got so caught up in your katsu curry and our conversation that I didn’t get a chance to train you.”
Pride blossoms in your chest at the implication behind his words. Kyoujurou had been so entranced by you (you!) that he’d momentarily neglected his duty. He was a very focused individual, so the fact that you were able to distract him is quite flattering.
“It’s okay,” you assure. “I managed to arm myself before you arrived, so I wasn’t totally helpless.”
“Yes, that was very courageous of you,” he praises while eyeing the cleaver in your hand. “But I’m afraid the only thing that can eliminate them are these talismans.”
“Where do you even get those?”
“From the night watch duty room next to the staff room. Shall we head over there now so that I can properly train you?”
Right. The reason you two were actually here. Farewell, pleasant game of house. Hello, reality.
“Sure,” you say, masking your dismay with a forced grin.
“Your eyes have saddened,” Kyoujurou observes. Your heart drops to your stomach. How was he so perceptive? “Is something wrong? If it’s about the ghost, fret not. I will teach you how to exterminate them!”
His guess was way off, but at least it saved you from coming up with some sort of lame excuse, so you take the bone he throws.
“Yeah, I guess I’m still a bit shaken by it,” you lie.
“Would it help if you held onto my arm?” he asks, much to your surprise. He outstretches it towards you and you can’t help but feel like the sun’s rays are shining directly down on you. “It helped Senjurou when he was younger. He was so afraid of the dark!”
And just like that, dark clouds obscure the rays of precious sunlight.
He thinks of you like his little brother, you think, disheartened. You really were worse off than the students with a helpless crush, but… at least he was still offering you his arm. You’d be a fool not to take it, so you do.
You immediately suspect that Kyojurou’s warmth must be infectious, because the moment you wrap your arms around his taut, muscular arm, little fires awaken everywhere within you. You’ve never been this physically close to him before, but now that you are, you get a good (and totally not creepy) whiff of his scent. It’s part fresh laundry, part musky cologne, and overall intoxicating.
It makes your head so fuzzy that you barely register Kyoujurou waving his free hand in your face.
“Um, Kaneko-san?” he asks softly.
“Mm?” you ask, dazed.
“Could you perhaps… loosen your grip a bit?”
You look down at where his arm meets your body and freeze.
His arm was right in between your boobs.
“Ah!” you squeak. You move back immediately and keep your grip only on his forearms. “I’m so sorry!”
“I-it’s okay,” he insists, but you can’t help but notice that he won’t meet your eyes… and that he’s pulling at the collar of his shirt. “That ghost must have just… really spooked you.”
“Uh huh,” you agree, red-faced. “Terrifying thing.”
“We should… move on with our lesson then,” Kyoujurou suggests, his voice oddly strained.
You nod in agreement as he leads you onward and upward.
How humiliating… you think. But on the bright side, based on his reaction, you knew one thing was for certain: he definitely didn’t think of you as his little brother anymore.
You’ve always found pride in being a quick learner, and tonight was no exception.
Within an hour you have the demon annihilation spell pretty much memorized and have been shown various ways of throwing the talismans. In all honesty, you purposely messed up a few of your throws just so that Kyoujurou would have to guide you through the arm movements again, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“Okay, I think I got the incantation down,” you tell him. His sights seem to be oddly fixated on the door and his eyes are narrowed. “What else should we pra—mmph!”
You blink twice in shock when he suddenly claps a hand over your mouth. Your senses are overloaded by his heat and scent, and the sudden gesture has you reeling. It could be interpreted in so many ways, but you can’t help it: your mind goes straight to dirty territory.
It almost makes you wonder how authoritative and commanding Kyoujurou was outside the walls of a classroom…
“Apologies, Kaneko-san,” he whispers, and you’re not going to lie: you didn’t even know someone as boisterous as him was capable of doing that. You happily welcome this new discovery with open arms though, because it sounds sexy as hell. “I just wanted you to be able to hear it for yourself.”
What? you think, the sexy time balloon popping almost as soon as it inflated. Hear what?
And it’s in focusing on his words that you actually hear it: the unmistakable sound of nails scraping a chalkboard. But where was it coming from?
“It’s in the staff room,” he answers as if reading your mind. You nod in understanding. The other ghost was there, but this time, you’d be ready for it. “Can you exorcise this one?”
He lowers his mouth from your hand so that you can answer, but you can already feel your body whining in protest at the loss of his touch. Still, you persist.
“Yes,” you answer. It doesn’t come out as confident as you’d hoped, but Kyoujurou had this way of making people feel believed in, so you had to at least try.
So with a deep intake of breath, you take a couple of talismans and creep your way over to the door connecting to the staff room. You slowly inch the door open with your shoulder to take a peek and make out the faint outline of… something scratching against the chalkboard. You freeze up a little and look to Kyoujurou for support.
You can do it, he mouths.
Your eyes harden with determination. Yes, you could do this. You had to. Thinking of that thing as a ghost was what made it daunting, but if you looked at it from a technical perspective, the objective was clear: throw the paper onto its head, say the magic words, and exorcise that little fucker. Recipes had steps, and so did this. You could do this.
So before you can lose your nerve, you throw the door open, waltz into the staff room…
… and totally miss your throw, because this ghost, which looks like an old, skeletal man, is so short and frail. It crouches into itself in a way that’s kind of pitiful and weeps before you in fear. You almost feel kind of bad for it, but exorcising it would likely put it out of its misery, so…
You aim for the large bump on its forehead and the talisman lands perfectly.
“Onkirikiri akkimessatsu sowaka!” you incant, just as Kyoujurou had taught you. The talisman activates, effectively electrocuting the ghost, and just like the one from earlier, it disappears into a thin wisp of air.
“I… I did it!” you exclaim with disbelief. You feel accomplished, powerful, and all sorts of unstoppable. You never thought you’d be able to add ‘ghost annihilator’ to your list of skills, but you certainly could now.
“Excellent work, Kaneko-san!” Kyoujurou praises while offering you a proud pat on the back. “You performed admirably!”
“Heck yeah I did!” you cheer, basking in your victory.
You turn your head towards him and, in the midst of your excitement, get on your tippy toes to give him a little peck. Your heart flutters at the feeling of his warm, plush lips against your own for about one millisecond before you pull away in horror.
What had you done?
Ruined everything, that’s what! you catastrophize. Why would you kiss him so impulsively, idiot? What is wrong with you?
Before you, Kyoujurou looks absolutely perplexed and dread settles in your gut.
I’ll never be able to show my face around him again, you think wearily. Working with him is going to be so awkward. The energy in the staff room is going to be weird! Should I just restrict myself to the kitchen and never leave? Is it too late in the semester to transfer schools?
You risk another glance at him and find him touching his bottom lip in shock. Guilt courses through you, but at the very least, you know what has to be done first.
“I’m sorry, Rengoku-san,” you apologize. “I… I never should’ve—”
“There is nothing to apologize for,” he interrupts. You know that it’s meant to be comforting, but the fact that he’s still trying to be nice to you in a time of major discomfort makes your heart ache.
“I appreciate your kindness, but it was wrong of me,” you insist.
He shakes his head in what looks like… amusement? Or did you just imagine that?
“It wasn’t wrong of you at all,” he says softly. “I’ve actually wanted to do that for a very long time now.”
Your mouth falls open at his confession.
“Um, Kaneko-san?” Kyoujurou asks, clearly confused. “What are you doing?”
You squeeze at your cheeks and pat at them profusely. “I’m waking myself up.”
“Why?”
“Because I must be dreaming,” you reason.
His laughter fills the entire staff room, melting away each and every one of your doubts.
“You’re not dreaming,” he affirms. “I’ve been interested in you romantically for a while now.”
Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “Since when?”
He rubs his chin in thought. “Mm. Since you gave all the teachers your homemade matcha cookies!”
You knit your eyebrows together in concentration, trying to recall the memory. Matcha cookies? But that would’ve been…
“Since the day I started working here?” you exclaim.
“Yes, precisely!” he confirms. “The cookie was very tasty! I could immediately tell how spirited you were from the taste of your cooking and since then I’ve been a goner. Also, I find you very beautiful!”
You’ve never blushed harder in your life. “So that kiss…”
“... was something I’ve wanted for a very long time,” Kyoujurou finishes.
You place a hand over your heart, which you can feel hammering against your ribcage. This was happening. This was really happening.
“Then… I probably shouldn’t keep you waiting for another,” you voice.
“Yes, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t!”
You both share a lighthearted laugh at that before he changes the mood entirely. Kyoujurou steps towards you with eyes half-lidded and you hold your breath.
“May I?” he asks while gently caressing your cheek.
“Please,” you answer, your lips already tingling.
He doesn’t waste another second. He kisses you like a man starved, like you’re the first meal he’s had in weeks (and in Kyoujurou time, that’s pretty much eternity). The passion behind his kisses is dizzying, but with one arm around your waist, he manages to hold you in place. And thank goodness, too, because this man was turning you into jelly. You knew he liked to savour his meals, but no amount of daydreaming could ever prepare you for being one. Until now, you’ve never known the meaning of being devoured, but you definitely knew it now.
And you really, really liked it.
In the brief moment that you both pull away for air you register two things: 1) his golden-red eyes are burning with lust for you, zapping heat straight to your core, and 2) he’s used his free arm to swipe everything off his desk, which was apparently right behind you. Books and papers litter the floor while Kyoujurou effortlessly lifts you onto the middle of his desk.
As you hook your legs around his waist you giggle into his lips. This was so unlike him. Apart from a few snacks laying around, he liked to keep his desk neat and organized. Around you, however, he apparently couldn’t help but get a little messy, and that amount of power was exhilarating.
The power dynamic doesn’t last very long though, because you lose your ability to think the moment his lips move to your neck. Waves of bliss tear through you as his lips move lower and lower, down to your collarbone. You let out a moan at the trail of fire he leaves in his wake and throw your head back. Goodness, this man could kiss.
Apparently he knows just where to touch, too, because you let out a squeal when his eager hands graze over your breasts.
“Sorry,” he says while immediately withdrawing his hands. You smile up at him. Even when consumed by his desires he was still such a gentleman.
“Don’t be,” you assure, placing them right where they’d been. You catch the subtle movement of his Adam’s apple as he gulps. “Although…” you start playfully. “I think it’s only fair that I get to touch you as well.”
His lips turn upward into a wicked grin. There’s a naughty twinkle in his eye and your stomach tightens in anticipation.
“Yes, you should,” he agrees while removing his hands from your chest again. Instead, they move to the hem of his shirt and your breath hitches. In one swift motion, he pulls it over his head and you almost weep.
It’s just as you’ve always suspected: Kyoujurou was sculpted by the gods.
“See something you like?” he teases. You nod fervently.
“Yes, very much so,” you answer while reaching out to him. You place your palms upon the rippling muscles of his abdomen, muscles formed through rigorous exercise and training, and admire him like the masterpiece he is. He hisses in pleasure at the contact and you realize that he looks absolutely breathtaking when bathed in moonlight.
How does one breathe again? You suddenly can’t recall.
Thankfully you don’t have to, because Kyoujurou seems more than happy to share his breaths with you in more mind-melting kisses. Caught up in the intense heat, your hands move lower, down to the waistband of his joggers, but before you move any further, he suddenly grabs you by the wrist.
You look up at him with a dejected pout. Had you done something wrong?
“Kaneko-san,” he whispers. He looks conflicted, like what he’s about to say and what his body wants are at war. “As much as I’m enjoying this—and believe me, I’m really enjoying this—I don’t want to go too far. You’re special and I really care about you, so I don’t want this to just be a… physical relationship.”
Your heart swells at his reasoning. Leave it to Kyoujurou to find a way to be heartwarmingly sweet in the middle of a hot and heavy moment.
“I agree with that,” you voice. “You’re special to me, too, and… I really believe that we can build something that lasts.”
Relief washes over his features before he pulls you into an embrace that makes you feel safe and treasured. You hug him back and pour every ounce of adoration you have for him into it, squeezing him tightly (and very giddily). Kyoujurou wanted to be in an actual relationship with you—you!
“But,” you hear (and also feel) him murmur against your shoulder, “would it hurt if… we went just a little bit further?”
You feel his curious hands roam the area under your shirt and you immediately pick up what he’s putting down. You do him a favour and remove it yourself. You sit on his desk shirtless and absolutely flushed, and the look he gives you can only be described as ravenous.
“No,” you answer while pulling him back to you. “Not at all.”
An hour later (or at least you think it's been an hour—it was hard to keep track), you and Kyoujurou lay on his desk, both bare from the chest up. With the blanket you’d packed in your overnight bag, you’d turned his desk into a makeshift bed, and although it can hardly fit the both of you, it doesn’t make it feel any less right, being there with him. You’d only let him get up to second base, but you’re both glowing with pure satisfaction. You snuggle into him further as he rubs comforting circles into your back, and for the first time in your life, you never wanted to leave a school.
Ever.
“I must confess something,” Kyoujurou suddenly says.
“Mm?” you hum, tilting your head up to face him.
“I was not assigned to train you for your first night watch shift,” he reveals.
You prop yourself up on one elbow to look at him properly. “What?”
“I volunteered,” he continues, “because I wanted to spend time with you.”
Despite the confession making you inwardly swoon, you can’t help but hit him in the chest.
“You couldn’t have just asked me on a date like a normal person?” you half-ask, half-joke.
“I wasn’t sure if you were interested!” he reasons.
“Well, now you know I am. And if it’s any consolation, this was a very memorable first date. It’s not every day that you get to exorcise a school ghost.”
He takes both your hands in one of his large ones and brings them up to his lips for a chaste kiss. You melt into a puddle of goo. “While that is true, please allow me to take you on a proper first date.”
“I’d like that,” you say, brimming with delight. He mirrors your expression as he releases your hands.
“Rengoku-san?” you question a few minutes later.
“Please, call me by my given name,” he requests gently. Your lips part in surprise. “I’ve always wanted to hear you say it.”
Your belly flutters as you grant his request. “Okay… Kyoujurou.”
The moment you say it, you feel his heart beat faster beneath the palm of your hand and his eyes sparkle with uncontainable joy.
“Yes, darling, what is it?” he asks sweetly. You could almost die happy from the new pet name alone.
“Isn’t this against the rules?” you question. At ‘this’, you gesture to where your chests are connected.
“Mm,” he hums thoughtfully. “Not exactly. There are no rules in Kimetsu Academy strictly stating that faculty members cannot see each other. We just can’t show public displays of affection in front of the students.”
You grin up at him. “It sounds like you’ve looked into that before.”
“I may have when the gorgeous new culinary arts teacher started working here.”
“Oh you,” you say while playfully shoving him. One of your hands remains on his chest and you begin tracing teasing circles into it with your index finger.
“Well, I don’t see any students around right now…” you begin.
He smirks as he laces his fingers through yours. “Indeed there are not.”
With a firm hold on you, he pulls you on top of him and you smile into his lips as he spoils you with more hours of long-awaited physical affection.
When you walk into the staff room on Monday morning, Kyoujurou is already there in his usual work attire, leaning against his desk with a cup of coffee in hand. Thankfully no other teachers have arrived yet, gracing you two with a precious moment alone.
Not that you particularly needed it, considering that you’d pretty much spent the entire weekend together.
For your first official date, which he’d insisted on doing the moment your night watch was over, he’d taken you to the autumn festival. You’d gorged on dango and sweet potatoes, lit your lanterns together, and held hands under the spectacular display of fireworks. The following day you’d offered to teach him how to make mess-free katsu curry at your apartment and he heartily agreed, mostly because the things he wanted to do to you wouldn’t be proper to the public eye.
You had to fan yourself after he said that, but it got him to third base that afternoon, so it was worth the initial embarrassment.
“Good morning Kaneko-sensei,” he greets. Despite the usual energetic delivery there’s an underlying playfulness to his tone that you know is reserved only for you, and the secrecy of it all makes you all giggly inside. You’d agreed to keep your relationship lowkey until the teachers started picking up on it so that you could ease it in, but considering how Kyoujurou wore his heart on his sleeve, you weren’t sure just how ‘lowkey’ he could be.
“Did you have a good weekend?” you hear him ask. You catch him wiggling his forked eyebrows at you and you nearly spit out your own coffee.
“I did,” you answer when you regain your composure. “How about you, Rengoku-san?”
“The best weekend,” he whispers. You’re almost tempted to hug him and you can tell by the longing in his eyes that he wouldn’t be completely opposed to it, but Giyu chooses that specific moment to walk in with his lunchbox and trusty bamboo sword in hand.
“Good morning, Tomioka-sensei!” Kyoujurou greets mirthfully. The P.E. teacher merely nods in acknowledgement while heading to his desk, which is situated right behind Kyoujurou’s.
You inconspicuously clear your throat and head to your own desk but shriek in horror when Giyu suddenly directs a question towards the both of you.
“Oi,” he starts. He lifts his bamboo sword with your bra dangling at the end of it. “Why is this under my desk?”
Kyoujurou drops his coffee and you hide your burning face in your hands.
So much for keeping it lowkey.