Chapter Text
The sky was blue. Well, it has always been blue. But today, to Kanae, it felt different. It was in the shade he hadn’t seen in a while. It was the kind of blue that brims with youth, buzzing with the distant laughter and cheerful voices of students echoing through the open window.
Kanae had this, you know, hobby. Calling it a hobby might be too generous, especially most people wouldn’t find it remotely normal. He loves studying the sky, the way its colors shifted, the sudden differences in hue and saturation that most wouldn’t even notice. But for someone like him, who had all the time in the world, he’d do anything at this point. He could have gone on about it, but he was supposed to be working. And work, unlike the sky, didn’t wait patiently for anyone.
Kanae pushed his chair back and stood, stretching until his spine gave a satisfying crack. He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, letting the spring breeze brush against his cheeks. When he opened them again, the air was alive with cherry blossoms drifting in through the open window, their delicate petals landing softly on the documents scattered across his desk. He stared at them as a quiet wave of melancholia began to hit him.
He was about to sit back into his chair when the sound of the sliding door startled him. His heart skipped, a twinge of nervousness settling in. It was the first time someone had stopped by the clinic. He took a breath, steadying himself, and quickly pieced together a polite greeting in his head. Turning around, he said, “How may I help you?”
The student looked surprised when he saw Kanae. The clinic, once dim and cozy, suddenly felt too bright for his eyes. It was like stepping into a room that wasn’t meant for him. He took a hesitant step back, peering outside to check the sign, just to confirm that he indeed entered the right place.
“Ah,” the student muttered, realization dawning on him. “So, it was today.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a soft sigh. He knew that there would be a new nurse at the clinic, but he hadn’t expected it to be today. Well, it was his fault to begin with, since he missed the morning assembly again, just like he always did.
“I guess I’ll move somewhere else,” he said under his breath, the words almost a question to himself.
Kanae watched the student, who seemed to be weighing his options for a place to sleep.
“It's fine,” Kanae said, offering a reassuring smile. “You can use one of the beds here. So, please come inside.”
The student’s face lit up at Kanae’s words, a clear flash of relief and gratitude across his face. As the student stepped past him and into the clinic, Kanae couldn’t help but notice how pale he looked.
“Are you okay?” Kanae asked, his voice gentle, a hint of concern slipping through.
“I’ll be fine once I get enough sleep,” the student replied, sinking onto the bed with a tired sigh. “You don’t have to worry.”
“Alright. Tell me if you started to feel unwell.”
The student nodded, stifling a yawn, before pulling the blanket over himself. In a few moments, his breathing slowed, and he was fast asleep.
Kanae returned to work, but he couldn’t help but felt concerned. The student had looked unwell, and it troubled him. A few minutes passed and he still couldn’t shake off this feeling, so he decided to check on him.
To his surprise, the student was sleeping soundly. As if he were in the comfort of his own room, relaxed, at peace. Kanae exhaled a quiet sigh of relief, reassured that he was fine. With that, he returned to his work, this time without any room for worry.
When the first bell rang, Kanae heard the bed creak as the student stirred awake.
“Oh, the bell served as his alarm,” Kanae chuckled to himself, amused by the coincidence.
The student stretched both his arms and legs, letting out a wide yawn that seemed to echo through the room. Once he was finished, he walked over to Kanae, who was pretending to focus on his work.
“Thanks for letting me sleep,” he said, bowing his head.
“No worries,” Kanae replied with a smile.
He decided to walk the student out. It felt like the right thing to do, given he was the first to show up at the clinic. Maybe that made him special, or maybe it just made this moment stick a little more.
When he stood, their eyes met, briefly, fleetingly but enough to set off something strange inside him. He looked away almost on instinct, the way you might flinch from touching something sharp, though he wasn’t sure what exactly had cut him.
He regretted it immediately. Turning back felt like damage control, even if the student didn’t seem fazed. That’s when he noticed it: the soft shift in his expression. He looked rested now.
“Next time, just let me know if you’re planning to nap in the clinic, okay?” Kanae said, his tone light but laced with just enough seriousness to suggest he meant it. “Don’t worry, I’ll allow it, so long as you are not faking an illness to get out of class.”
He expected at least a nod, maybe a half-smile in response, but the student just stared at him. Unblinking. Quiet.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but somehow cautious.
As the student leaned closer, Kanae froze, every nerve standing at attention. His hand brushed Kanae’s hair, so light it could have been the wind.
And in that split second, everything felt like it was in slow motion.
“It was stuck in your hair,” the student said, holding up a single petal between his fingers like it was something precious. His eyes crinkled with a soft smile as he tucked it into his pocket. “I’ll keep it for good luck.”
Kanae blinked, his brain scrambling to catch up with what had just happened. The student caught Kanae’s gaze, holding it long enough to make the air between feel different. Then the wind stirred, brushing the hair away from the student’s face, and Kanae saw it: eyes glowing an intense, almost otherworldly red.
He froze, captivated. He didn’t notice the student’s hand lifting, hovering near his head again. Then, without warning, he ruffled his hair in a gesture so soft, so fleeting. Before Kanae could even react, the student turned and walked away, leaving nothing behind but silence.
“He’s like the first wind of spring,” Kanae muttered to himself. His fingers brushed over his head where the student’s hand had been, as if the touch might still be lingering there. “What a weird kid.”
He tried to act as if nothing happened. But with every passing second, his heart betrayed him, beating louder and louder.
That was a first. Kanae thought, his hand settled over his chest. He was trying to ease the pounding as he went back into his seat. But even as he sat still, the feeling lingered, like an echo, he couldn’t shake.
His thoughts were running circles around themselves, overlapping in a way that made it hard to focus. Kanae almost didn’t catch the knock on the door. He stood up, thinking that it was him again. But as the door slid open, the figure standing there wasn’t him. It was someone else entirely. Kanae’s stomach dropped. His head was already dipping low in an indistinctive bow.
“It's been a while, Kanae-kun,” the principal greeted.
Kanae, startled into motion, gestured toward the nearest chair. “Please, have a seat.”
The principal shook his head with a polite wave of his hand. “No need. I won’t be staying long.”
For a moment, they stood in the awkward stillness of unsaid things, until the principal broke it. “I thought that time was the last. I didn’t expect we’d meet like this again.”
Kanae’s throat tightened. But before he could respond, the older man lowered his head. The gesture was humbling and sincere. “I know it was a selfish request but thank you for giving in to this old man’s request.”
“It’s fine,” Kanae said softly, gesturing for the principal to lift his head. “There is no way I could turn down a favor from an old friend. Honestly, your timing was perfect. It was high time for a change of pace.”
The old man smiled. “Age is catching up to me,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of the years, “but you…you haven’t changed a bit.”
For a moment, his gaze drifted, his expression softening as if he were peering into a memory only, he could see. He started to share a story, a fragment of something they’d once shared, but then his face shifted. He cleared his throat, remembering why he had become.
“Oh, right,” the principal said suddenly, his eyes lighting up as the thought came back to him. “It seems you’ve met Kuzuha-kun.”
Kanae nodded. “Ah, that kid earlier,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “He looked exhausted, so I let him sleep here for a bit."
The principal felt relieved upon hearing his words. “That child frequents the clinic around this time,” he explained. “I just came by to check if he had stopped by. You don’t need to worry about him; just let him be when he comes by."
“You’re not the type to favor someone that easily.” Kanae remarked, unable to hide his surprise.
The principal chuckled. “He's a special friend of mine," he said simply, the fondness in his voice leaving no room for doubt.
The principal left after handing Kanae a lunch box, the gesture quiet but thoughtful. Kanae accepted it with a small nod of gratitude as his stomach reminding him of its hunger. He hadn’t packed his own lunch because he went out drinking last night. It wasn’t the wisest choice, especially on his first day in school. But somehow, he’d managed to pull himself together and make it to the morning assembly on time.
"Kuzuha," Kanae muttered as he slumped into his seat. A small, almost amused smile tugged at his lips. “Looks like I’ll be sticking around here for a while.”
OTHER WORKS:
once in twenty lifetimes [COMPLETED] (Revising)
one moment in time [ONGOING] (previously under two as crash)
the apprentice [ONGOING] (Revising)
born to die [ONGOING] (New)
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