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The date was October 8th, National teacher's day.
Damon never expected to end up as an English teacher, or a teacher at all for that matter. If you'd asked Damon about the career he'd pursue, being a teacher wouldn't even have been on the table. But life has a way of ending up differently than people expected—one often meets his destiny on the road taken to avoid it as much as the debater would have it otherwise.
At least he could rest easier knowing he could incorporate the occasional debate every now and then as an activity in his lessons—with the amount of his students letting out exasperated long-suffering groans when they see him walking with a stack of papers under his arm and a bit more spring in his step, he could compose a symphony.
Not only that, he’s been granted the luxury of spending some of the school's precious budget on a debate club. Another small victory for him.
At present, he found himself strolling along campus, crossing down the now deserted hallways with his coat swung over his shoulders, trailed by nothing but his own shadow and the sound of his expensive loafers hitting the ground.
He’d already dismissed his advisory class—who practically begged (on their knees, mind you) for him to let them go home once the bell rang—so he was free to spend the afternoon however he wished.
His plan now? To check on the only class that bothered to stay after-school—Ms. Eva Tsunaka's class.
Eva's class had informed him of their plan of surprising her with a quick celebration with cake, party poppers and all that shabang, and managed to get him to help them out with their plan. Not that they'd have to try hard (surprisingly); truthfully, he already decided on his own that Eva deserved it.
He's known her since they were in college. A random chance encounter between two outcasts that were shunned by the others (for issues), that, within a couple of years blossomed into a lifelong… well something.
Their relationship or whatever you wanted to call it was complicated. They were too close to be just friends, yet the both of them were too reserved to place an actual label on their status. And now that they were coworkers and saw each other practically everyday, that thin line between “pure platonic” and something new to the both of them was blurring.
Not that it bothered him. Eva was one of the most important people in his life (not that he'd ever admit that out loud), and he knew she felt the same way with him.
He could remember the day they first properly interacted (outside of acknowledging eachother) like it simply occurred yesterday. Back then; Eva would run to the schools boiler room to avoid any interaction, claiming “No one wants to come to a gross, spooky place like this.” except for her and Damon of course.
And from there, they started talking more.
Damon would find himself returning to her continuously. A chance encounter, turning habitual. He’d look for her in that boiler room, to the sunlit lawn in the back of the school whenever he was free. What started as small brief discussions, ended up with lengthy discussions about a range of topics.
As he walked, he could already hear her class down the hallway. Their voices raised—probably rehearsing their fake argument to lure Eva in. He couldn't help but pity her a little; they were noisy, loud and chaotic even if they had good intentions. The loudest in the entire grade maybe. He can't imagine having to handle such an exhausting class on top of all of the work Eva had to do.
At least his class was respectful.
"Sir! Have you seen miss-" one of the students shouted as soon as he opened the door. The class officers running towards him and surrounding him
"No, she's still finishing something." He immediately cut them off. Knowing Eva, she's probably checking some assignments.
"..But I'll bring her over." He muttered begrudgingly with a sigh after a couple seconds of silence, before immediately turning around before they could pester him anymore with more questions about Eva—especially since, because for some reason, they've recently started shipping the two of them-
..Wait what? Why was he thinking about that again?
Damon's footsteps were heavier as he strode the hallway to the teacher's facility rooms, trying to get rid of the slight red on his ears. Why did it get under his skin so much? Normally, he would ignore all the silly rumors he'd hear from the students about them in between classes. But, why did.. The idea of him and Eva together makes his heart thud against his chest with a feeling he couldn't name.
It pissed him off. To be unsure of himself in the slightest.
But he dispelled all his thoughts out of his head as he finally stopped in front of the facility room, swallowing the built up saliva in the back of his throat as he lifted his hand and twisted the cold metal doorknob.
As soon as he swung the door open and stepped in, the cold wind from the heavily blasted acs—a contrast to the previously warm hallways—enveloping his body as his gaze immediately landed on a very familiar head of black hair.
Eva, sitting at her cluttered desk. Stacks of papers and papers towering her hunched over form as she held a red pen in one hand, and her head in the other.
“Eva.” Damon started, his hand instinctively snaking up to rub the nape of his neck. “Your class is arguing, again.”
When Eva raised her head from the papers, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and sighed, he almost felt bad. “Ugh.. Really?” She muttered with a groan, shutting her eyes tight and rubbing her temples. Trying to get rid of her incoming headache.
“Do they really have to pull stuff like this, everyday?” She asked under her breath in an exasperated tone as she pushed herself up and out of her chair, the question more to herself than him.
“Walk with me? I need the support.” She requested bluntly, before turning on her heel and walking out. Not really bothering to check if he would follow, because she knew he would.
And Damon didn't even respond before he already started walking in long strides to catch up with her, before slowing down now that they were side by side.
The two of them didn't say anything as they walked, the silence something they've grown accustomed to since college. Walking together, in each other's company without the need of words—It was a rare comfort for the duo, in a world of noise and people who either expected too much from them (or despised them).
When they arrived in front of the classroom, he could already hear the ruckus and yelling from inside, and he could see the slight panic in her eyes behind her glasses when she realized even her class officers were arguing.
As soon as Eva pulled open the glass door and open her mouth, just about to speak-
POP!
The party poppers went off in a burst of confetti, and suddenly everyone's bickering and shouting turned into cheers. And Eva looked like a deer in headlights in the middle of it all, her lips parted and eyes wide, her hair and glasses dusted with flakes of confetti, the glasses slipping slightly down her nose as she tried to register everything that was occurring.
Damon—sensibly—decided to not get himself involved in the situation, staying on the sidelines and leaning against the door of the classroom and just watching.
He watched the moment her dazed confusion melted into realization — the soft curve of her lips tugging upward as her students surrounded her. Her laughter came small at first, then freer, brighter, unguarded in a way he didn’t see often.
And it did something to him.
It was almost unfair, how easily she could disarm him without even trying. How the light caught the strands of her hair. How her voice, raised in laughter instead of weary sighs, could cut straight through the wall he spent years building around himself.
He told himself he was just observing—supervising, even. But his eyes didn’t move. Not when her students took her glasses and she chased after them, smiling. Not when they smeared icing on her cheek and she gasped, half-scolding, half-laughing.
She was radiant—all warmth and motion in a room bursting with chaos. And he, ever the composed one, stood there like a fool, pulse stuttering at the sight of her.
When she looked up—just briefly, through the crowd—their eyes met. The noise faded. For a second, he thought she’d caught him staring.
He turned away first. A scowl on his face.
“All right, all right — settle down,” Damon finally called out, voice sharper than he intended. He lifted his phone as if to distract himself. “Get in position. Windows open so everyone can be seen.”
Once the celebration was over and everyone had their pictures and went home, it was just the two of them left cleaning up confetti and half-eaten cake. Damon glanced at her, before breaking the quiet. “So.. Do you have any plans after this?”
“Not really, why?” She replied bluntly, twirling a strand of her hair with her free hand.
Damon hesitated for a second,“..wanna go celebrate teachers day ourselves?”
“With the other teachers?” she asked, smirking.
“Obviously not.” he replied with a huff, rolling his eyes at her smirk.
Eva chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down his spine. “Heh. Knew it.”