Chapter Text
3rd P.O.V
Sakusa Kiyoomi hated his major.
He hated the coursework. He couldn't stomach how his lifelong devotion to music had been shat on by a tone deaf education system.
He hated the teacher. A pretentious, self-absorbed sellout with outdated views and absolutely no respect for the generation that ultimately got to pull the plug on him.
He hated the classroom it was taught in every Monday, Tuesday and Friday. Had the university even considered a qualified janitor? A decent redecoration? Instruments that weren't rotting from the inside out?
And he despised the people. They were barbaric. Unhygienic. Rude. Entitled. They breathed too far into Sakusa's personal bubble. He resented their attitudes to life and criticised their choices of music, from their mumble rap to their cheap sex appeal. No matter how much he complained, they were all very talented artists and you know what? He hated that too.
All the students in his classes thought they had the right to touch him, even after learning of his obsessive compulsive disorder. They didn't miss a beat in teasing him for his hyper-mobility.
A wise man would say that he was cynical. That Sakusa Kiyoomi was blunt, harsh and arrogant. An even wiser man would say that above everything else, at least he was honest. Honesty is key, and if that's a problem for other people it's certainly not a problem for him.
It's also worth noting that Sakusa Kiyoomi is not a wise man.
Sakusa hated everything about his major. But he was too stubborn to switch out and leave something he was passionate about unfinished, so he'd suffer until he completed it. Going into his 3rd year of an undergraduate program, he figured it might stay that way.
That was until Hinata Shouyou stumbled, quite literally, into his Tuesday lecture.