Chapter Text
The teachers’ lounge felt different after sunset. The usual noise was gone — no students in the halls, no hurried footsteps, no voices overlapping. Just the low hum of the lights and the soft scratch of a pen against paper.
Sanemi sat alone at the long table, surrounded by math exams that looked more like personal insults than actual attempts at solving equations. A red pen rested between his fingers as he frowned at another impossible answer. “How do you even get that…” he muttered under his breath.
The door opened. He barely glanced up at first, expecting another forgotten folder or maybe someone grabbing their bag. But then he did look — and froze.
Kanae stepped inside, slightly out of breath, one hand still on the door handle. She wasn’t wearing her usual teacher clothes. Instead, a dark violet dress hugged her figure, elegant and clearly meant for somewhere much nicer than a school building. The soft fabric caught the light when she moved, and for a moment Sanemi forgot entirely what he’d been doing.
The red pen hovered midair. “…wow.” The word escaped before he could stop it.
Kanae blinked, then smiled, amused. “Good wow or bad wow?”
Sanemi cleared his throat, suddenly very interested in the pile of papers in front of him. “You forgot something?”
“My phone,” she said, walking toward her desk. “My sister’s waiting outside. We’re going to a musical tonight.”
That explained the outfit. Somehow it didn’t make it any easier to look at her. She opened her drawer — and her phone immediately slipped out, clattering to the floor. “Oh—”
She bent down to pick it up.
Sanemi’s gaze followed automatically. A second later he realized it.
Don’t stare.
He looked back at the papers. Too late.
Idiot.
By the time she straightened again, he was already pretending to be deeply focused on grading.
Kanae didn’t seem to notice. Or if she did, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she glanced at the exams spread across the table. “Still working? At this hour?”
“Someone has to suffer,” he said dryly.
She laughed softly and leaned against the table, close enough that he could catch the faint scent of her perfume. “I had a rough day too. Half my class wasn’t paying attention at all.”
Sanemi snorted. “That bad?”
“They keep staring at me instead of the board. I’m starting to think I’m boring.”
He looked up at her — really looked. “Well,” he said slowly, “if I’d had a biology teacher as pretty as you back in school, I probably wouldn’t have paid attention either.”
The words hung in the air for a beat.
Kanae’s smile widened, just a little. “So I’m the problem?”
“I’m saying distractions happen.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You know… maybe I should’ve asked you what to wear tonight instead of Shinobu.”
Sanemi almost choked on a breath. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Her tone was light, teasing, and he realized with mild horror that she knew exactly what she was doing.
Before he could think of a response, her phone lit up in her hand.
She glanced at the screen and sighed fondly. “Speaking of Shinobu.”
Sanemi nodded, suddenly aware that she was about to leave. The room felt quieter already.
Kanae picked up her bag and turned toward the door.
This was it.
If he didn’t say something now, he’d probably talk himself out of it later. And this was the first time all day they’d been alone — no other teachers, no students, no interruptions. “Kanae — wait.”
She stopped and looked back at him.
He stood a little too quickly, pushing his chair back. “I was thinking… if you’re free tomorrow…” He paused, mentally cursing himself. “Maybe we could grab coffee during lunch. Nearby café. Nothing fancy.”
There was the smallest pause.
Inside, Kanae’s heart skipped once — but her smile stayed calm, warm. “I’d like that,” she said. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”
Relief hit him so fast he almost laughed. “Good,” he said instead.
Her phone rang again. Kanae stepped backward toward the door, still smiling. “See you tomorrow, then.”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Tomorrow.”
She left.
The door clicked shut, and the room felt suddenly too quiet again. Sanemi sat back down slowly, staring at the exams in front of him. He hadn’t corrected a single one in the last ten minutes.
Shinobu sat in the passenger seat of Kanae’s car, arms folded, staring at the dark school entrance like she could will her sister to appear faster. She checked her phone again. Still nothing. “She said two minutes,” she muttered. “That was at least ten minutes ago.”
With a sigh, she called Kanae.
The line picked up quickly.
“I found my phone,” her sister said. “I’m coming down now.”
“You better be,” Shinobu replied sweetly. “The musical starts soon.”
Kanae laughed softly. “I’m on my way.”
The call ended.
Shinobu dropped her phone into her lap and leaned back, tapping her fingers impatiently against the door. The parking lot was quiet. Then a scooter buzzed into view. Shinobu barely paid attention — until she noticed the rider glancing repeatedly at her phone. “…That seems unsafe,” she muttered.
A second later—
THUNK.
The scooter bumped into the side of the car.
Shinobu froze.
The rider jumped off immediately, helmet half slipping sideways. “I’M SO SORRY!” Mitsuri cried, bowing so fast she almost lost her balance again. “I didn’t mean to! I swear!”
Shinobu blinked slowly. “…Mitsuri?”
Mitsuri looked up, eyes wide with horror. “Shinobu?! Oh no, that makes this worse!” She bowed again. “I’m so sorry! Is the car okay?! Did I scratch it? I wasn’t looking for one second and—”
Shinobu stepped out and inspected the side of the car. A tiny dent. Nothing serious. “It’s fine,” she said flatly.
Mitsuri looked unconvinced. “It’s your sister’s car, isn’t it? I’m dead.”
“You’re not dead,” Shinobu said. “Yet.”
Mitsuri clutched her helmet, clearly panicking. “I just got distracted! I got a message and—”
Shinobu narrowed her eyes. “A message.”
Mitsuri froze. “…Yes?”
“From who?”
“No one!”
Shinobu stared at her. “Mitsuri.”
Mitsuri squirmed, cheeks turning pink. “It’s… someone.”
Shinobu’s expression sharpened immediately. “Someone from the university?”
Silence.
Mitsuri avoided eye contact. “…Not exactly.”
Shinobu blinked once. “Wait.” She crossed her arms. “…Is it someone from school?”
Mitsuri’s eyes widened. “I didn’t say that!”
Which, to Shinobu, sounded very much like a yes. Her voice dropped. “Mitsuri.”
“It’s not bad!” Mitsuri blurted. “And they’re really nice! And respectful!”
Shinobu’s brows lifted slowly.
Nice. Respectful. Maybe slightly…Older. Someone from the school.
A teacher.
She felt immediate alarm rise in her chest. “You’re dating a teacher?!” she asked, horrified.
Mitsuri waved her hands frantically. “I didn’t say dating!”
“That is not a denial.”
“I just… don’t want to say who it is yet! H-He’s just so serious and well I guess you could say intimidating at first. But he’s so kind!”
Shinobu stared at her, thinking rapidly. Who would Mitsuri describe like that?
Serious. Intimidating at first. Surprisingly kind.
A very unfortunate name popped into her head. “…Shinazugawa?” she said slowly.
Mitsuri made a strangled noise, eyes widening.
Shinobu took that as confirmation. “Oh no,” she whispered.
Mitsuri shook her head quickly. “That’s not—!”
Shinobu pressed her fingers to her temple. “You’re texting teachers while driving now?”
“I KNOW, I messed up!”
Before Shinobu could say anything else, the school doors opened.
Kanae appeared at last, stepping into the cool evening air. She paused when she saw the scene. “Mitsuri?” she asked gently. “What happened?”
Mitsuri immediately bowed again. “I’m so sorry! I bumped your car!”
Kanae glanced at the tiny dent and smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay. Really. Nobody’s hurt, right?”
Mitsuri nodded rapidly, clearly close to tears.
Kanae’s warmth worked instantly; Mitsuri visibly relaxed. After several more apologies, she finally climbed back onto her scooter, promising to be more careful and disappearing into the night.
Silence settled.
Kanae slid into the driver’s seat with a small sigh. “Well… that was unexpected.”
Shinobu stared straight ahead.
Kanae started the car, then added casually, “Oh — by the way… Sanemi asked me to grab coffee with him tomorrow during lunch.”
Shinobu went very still. “…He did?”
Kanae smiled faintly, clearly pleased but trying not to show it too much. “Yeah. Just coffee.”
Shinobu gripped her seatbelt slowly.
Outside, the school building disappeared behind them as they pulled away.
Inside her head, alarm bells were already ringing.