Chapter Text
Im pretty sure they stopped paying attention the moment i decided it was a good time to announce we are having a test next week but come on had they been paying attention or say had they just listened to me today they wouldnt have any sort of problem but maybe they dont like literature half as much i had hoped they would and even i can start worrying i might have spoiled such wonders for them by being say whats the word too intense or maybe boring because i overheard a few weeks ago one of the girls had said old man is so boring oh well maybe she meant an specific author yes its definitely not me i hope and even if it were me why do i have to worry so much about them finding me boring or tedious or not liking me at all when they signed up for this class and that says more about them than it does about me but they stopped paying attention when i said test next week and its not even a big one a big exam this one wont ruin their future or get them to come in summer days this is not secondary school or any sort but if they dislike books and reading and authors and devices then why sit for this class and put up with this old man WAIT im not an old man im barely thirty seven yet i might be more than ten years older than most of them because they are mostly second year students even the law ones are here which makes me think perhaps i could make literature interesting enough they come to the winning team ok i dont dislike lawyers do i even know one im not sure but teachers i know plenty because of course i do and they are far more charming acocrding to the students but that makes zero sense when im obviously overqualified for this sole subject and if i wanted i could teach the subjects the language teachers make so interesting for these girls and boys these oh so very ungrateful girls and boys its not like theyd find someone who can jump to and fro switching classic modern and experimental and classic basic and classic very important its so frustrating none of them will develop half a liking to at least one author and none of them will develop passion for reading and none of them will even dream of writing because it doesnt faze them in the slightest and is all my fault perhaps i should resign or if not resigning all my working hours maybe a few of them and dedicate myself to writing but if dont get to be listented when discussing brilliant people how on earth could i possible make anyone read the very next big beaktrhough in literature that would obviously look so out of place giving my taste and then we go back to the beginning when no ones listening and all the people i told hey im writing a new novel would be asking me another one that wont be published as if its such a crime to keep my stories private because im sure oh god im so sure they border whatever thats opposite of mainstream and i must be mainstream to be known i must be mainstream to be liked and it makes it so difficult to stay true to myself and it gets to a point where words on paper dont matter and my ideas dont matter and they stopped paying attention the moment i decided to tell them test next week yet i believe i have time to cancel but if i try to be the cool guy instead of a serious teacher as i always believed i was theyd laugh at me and ah youngsters can be so cruel sometimes more so when youre just an old guy whos barely thirty eight wait not yet but almost there its spring so july is around the corner and soon the year wouldve ended and new faces would come next and perhaps i can have at least one student that sees letters and words and sentences and paragraphs and chapters and stories and books the way i do even if the year rolls again and its spring and then july and im thirty thirty neun i wouldve lost a good one to the cruel and unforgiving passing of time and id stay here remembering oh i had this super good student and maybe theyd graduate and read an impressive speech and all their classmates would cheer but that never happened nor will happen because apparently im among the least popular teachers and im not gonna lie i dont see it whats so wrong with some guy loving to read and write ah its three past whatever because its time for their next class somewhere else and some of them will be free after this and some of them hold hands and i wasnt aware some of them were couples and maybe they dislike me this much because i dont pay attention!!
“Uncle Leo, hey come on, you’re not listening to me.”
Professor Leo Whitefang, titular of the Children’s Literature, Classic Literature, and Modern Literature subjects part of the Language Department from the University of Illyria, had yet again added another reason on why he might be the most unpopular teacher of the institution. He fake coughed as if trying to hide that other title.
“Ah, please refrain from calling me that here.” Leo started gathering his notes, pen, various papers, making a mess of it, getting a soft smile out of Unika. “My apologies, but what was it?”
The Kiske siblings had been more like his own at times, often helping with their studies, and it had become increasingly difficult to ignore that aspect of their life being their real teacher. Although of the same upbringing, they had different, opposite personalities. Sin was a year behind at college as he had traveled a bit with uncle Sol, something his parents allowed and he had no real opinions on. Unika had good grades that weren’t out of the ordinary, except she had found the most important thing: love. He remembered her dad's birthday dinner and how she had asked him for help to speak about her partner; a nice girl in the roller derby team from the University. A big deal for Unika, her uneasiness was obvious to his brother who remained clueless about the reason but eventually got as nervous as her, such are the mysteries of siblings. Leo was rather envious of the child for she had opened her heart to such genuine wonder at the tender age of twenty-one, but nevertheless he had advised to act on her heart's desires or she'd regret it. There was no reason to hide the sweetest of feelings. He himself had long buried his own under thousands of dry pages, trying to stay as far as possible from bitterness.
“I was wondering if you could help us with some of your authors” she pointed at his books as he was putting them in his backpack, “my group mates are a bit lost and so am I and I don’t intend on failing your test.”
Unika fixed her carefully dyed blue bang that blended so prettily with the rest of her black mane, bating the eyelashes that framed her gorgeous reddish eyes, as she waited for the answer. Such an evil little creature, a female sibling ought to be so devious? She knew he wouldn’t refuse. He couldn’t deny the father’s daughter anything. Or the son. Or the wife. Or the man himself.
“Sure thing, I assume you’ll make the time and do as I say” he grabbed the shoulder strap of his backpack lifting it up the chair and gestured the girl to walk out of the classroom with him, she seemed content for the positive answer, “how many kids are there in this group of yours?”
“Yes sir, barely four, sir.” She replied nodding, counting with her fingers. “As a peace offering, would you let me treat you to a matcha latte?”
“A what?”
“A peace offering.” She got her phone out of her bag and started writing with disturbing speed.
“This isn’t a war and I already said yes!”
“Oh shush, hear me out- a matcha latte is a beverage made by combining matcha, a powdered green tea originating from Japan, with milk or a milk substitute. It can be served hot or iced and is considered a tea-based counterpart to the traditional coffee latte.”
It certainly sounded like something he wouldn't pick out of a cafeteria menu, but being more a tea type of guy, the concept of it sounded interesting. Was it time to try new things and stop being…the same old guy with the same old everything? Classic earl grey can get tedious, and regular espresso in a place where you might find new combinations seemed a waste. A matcha latte is a beverage made by powdered green tea from Japan, with milk.
Unika: Youngest Kiske, wonderful little button. March 5 and a Pisces - Strange child, likes heavy metal, dislikes dogs (was bitten… ?) Blue motorcycle gifted by Sol(uncle sol!!) Girlfriend is Bridget. Likes matcha. Matcha latte.
“Mr. Leo, hey come on, you’re not listening to me.” Unika elbowed him, hitting him in the arm. She had gotten quite strong since she was a child when she’d hit him in the shins to get his attention for a piggyback ride when it was Sin’s turn. Ouch ouch!
"Come again? I was thinking" he rubbed his arm as they exited the university's main building, then he ruffled her hair, "I was thinking."
“And I was talking, this coffee shop is so cool you’ll see, you’ll love it, I go there at least once a week with Bridget and we study before exams because sometimes you need to have a little caffeine and castella in your system before an exam.”
“Castella?”
“Oh you’ll see!” She fixed her hair with a quick movement of her head and pointed towards the east, quickening her pace across the gorgeous gardens, forcing Leo to take longer strides. “Come on!”
The soft echo of Unika’s voice made Leo feel less like the most unpopular guy because at least she seemed to like him, and was sure that her friends didn’t half dislike him or wouldn’t go as far as to ask for a little help. He took pride in being a strict teacher but somehow still approachable if needed, then of course very set on having the students work hard for their grades, and his method had worked until he came across Unika’s group because they were difficult. Being unpopular didn’t help before, but made it impossible with them, so the chance to help at least a few of them seemed a good idea and only highlighted the fact he’d love to teach even outside college hours. The books, the authors, the genres and motifs were all so precious to him, but he had no one to share that passion with except for the students that came every year and that would leave with June. More than twenty years had passed since he had last read a love poem out loud.
“How’s your father been?” Leo suddenly asked, Unika winced in disgust.
“Planning a ‘romantic getaway’ with mom for their anniversary, ew.” She lifted her hands up to her face and moved her head quickly from side to side as if she tried to erase the thought of existence. Yes, dearest Unika, ew indeed, yet he had to hide it.
“Oh please, didn’t you go to London with Bridget last year? Didn’t I drive you to the airport myself?”
“Yes yes, but we are not…them!”
“You’re being a little childish” hide it, hide it, “is your brother as irked as you are?”
“Oh he’s thrilled because we’re gonna pretty much spend every night getting burgers and playing games, probably have the Valentines over as well.” She smiled at him, “you can come too, you seem lonely.”
“Not lonely enough for a kids slumber party.” Oh, he certainly was. Unika didn’t mean to torture him, he knew it. The Kiske and Valentine siblings sure liked both of them, dearest uncles Sol and Leo, the oldest Valentine was even dating Sol. That anniversary was a month away and he had no other plans so babysitting wasn’t so bad. It could’ve been theirs.
“Double cheeseburger and lime soda, no pickles, thank you” he nodded and then pointed to a blue round banner with a little shape in white, which he could not recognize, except for the words CAFE on it, “may I assume this is your matcha palace?”
“Yes!” She grabbed him by the arm and pulled, walking faster, pushing the door to get in quickly, “Mito-san!”
The place was empty. The place was small. Leo counted about four tables with two chairs each, two booths at the back, and guided by Unika, they sat closer to the counter, backpack and bag on the floor. He got lost in the beauty of the place observing with attention the Japanese inspired decorations all covered with butterflies motifs in shades of blue and accents of white, very charming, very elegant. There was a shelf with cups and glasses, of all different sizes, and a pastry display next to the massive coffee maker on the counter. So modern and classic at the same time. Unika had great taste, perhaps inherited from her mother.
“Is that you, Unika?” a cheerful voice emerged from the back and they turned to see. Leo hadn’t noticed the wooden spiral stairs hidden in the back corner, a man descending from it, he figured that would be ‘Mito-san’ as Unika had called him. He was dressed in what he guessed was a modern take on Japanese clothes, as he stood next to her, he seemed to notice Leo. “Bless you, a client!”
He laughed. He paid no more attention to him. He took off his round glasses, they were round prince-nez spectacles. He grabbed a napkin from the table to clean them.
“Here Anji, he’s my second King, first my dad” Unika said smiling, introducing him, “better known as my literature teacher, Mr. Leo Whitefang.”
“You might just call me Anji, don’t do the Mito-san thing Unika does, please!” He slapped his forehead with his glasses, laughing, then put them back on. “So you go to Illyria college, then?”
Anji Mito: Japanese. Coffee shop guy (OWNER?) Likes butterflies and blue, or so it seems. Unika’s friend, apparently. Joyce’s glasses. Caramel eyes (intense))
“Ja, yes, I mean, I teach there,” he scratched the bridge of his nose, feeling Anji’s eyes fixed on him. “Children’s Literature, Classic Literature, and Modern Literature. Kids hate it. Kids hate me.”
“There you go again, it’s all in your head.” Unika sighed, annoyed, crossing her arms. Anji took a small notepad from the inner flap of his crossed shirt, and she seemed to light up. “Two matcha lattes, two slices of castella, a melonpan and four chocolate taiyaki.”
Leo watched him write in silence. Sin and Unika ate a lot.
“Sure thing doll, and what is Mr. Teacher having?” He pointed at him with his pen, not believing for half a second Unika intended to share even if that had been her plan, and she spoke faster than him.
“One of the matchas?”
“I can tell he won’t like it.” He turned back to Leo, as if he could guess his preferences. A sly smile curved on his lips, perhaps a challenge, perhaps not.
“She bribed me with matcha and castella to come here.” Leo sat straight on his chair, perhaps a challenge.
For a second too long Anji thought of something else, hitting the edge of the notepad with his pen in a steady rhythm, turned around to check if there were enough pastries for Unika on the display, then turned back again.
“Won’t you prefer tea? May I suggest blue?
Leo looked at Unika, mild surprise in his eyes, as if asking for permission to change the bribe. It was settled as she nodded. He’d still get the castella, and a sip of her matcha latte. They didn’t have to wait for too long and their order was soon neatly set on the table; the pastries in delicate porcelain dishes and bowls in mismatched colors. He was so used to regular German cakes and your usual French pastries that the fish shaped cakes got a smile out of him. He hadn’t quite been his own self for some days. Lastly, Anji set a big mug in front of Unika, a butterfly made of milk foam on top of the green; and then a much smaller glass cup for him, the beverage of a clear blue that got deep at the bottom where a purple petal had sunk.
“Be my guest.” Anji bowed shortly and went to sit behind the counter, paying no attention to them.
Unika’s face was glowing unsure on what to get him to try first, the matcha latte, maybe? He stretched his arm over the table to grab the cup, observing the little butterfly and moving the cup a bit. Unsure of what to expect he took a sip. Anji was right.
“Interesting to say the least, not a fan.” Leo tried not to make a weird face on the grassy aftertaste and hoped that his suggested drink would at least taste closer to regular tea. Unika shrugged, and Anji was right. “Just to be fair, try mine.”
She moved as he had before, and took a sip of his cup. “Needs milk and caramel syrup.”
Childish, the Kiske princess! Leo got the cup from her hands and took his time before drinking any of the blue liquid. She started to talk about the test due next week, making it easier to stay quiet for him. Bite after bite, her voice an echo repeating the things he had said that day in class, changing the subject to her plans later as she finished the melonpan and grabbed the small fork placed next to the castella dish. Are you eating yours? No, not really. Apparently, the family was going out for dinner. Please have at least one bite of the castella, won’t you? Soft, the perfect amount of sweetness, would go great with tea. Earl Grey.
“Say, Leo, you’re very quiet.” She started piling up the plates minus the one with the last taiyaki which she wrapped carefully in several napkins to shove it in one of the pockets of her jacket. Quite sharp, the Kiske princess!
“My apologies for not being the best companion, I’m afraid I’m getting sick.”
Sick, rotten, to the very core. Lonely, disgusting. Old. Boring, unpopular. Lonely lonely lonely.
“Yeah I figured! Or you’d be talking about something that would’ve taken me some time to guess. Anji! Can you get us the bill?”
Leo finally looked down to his recommended tea that he had not drunk yet, and emptied in one go as if it were alcohol, something he probably needed more. The taste was delicate, similar to chamomile, an earthy aftertaste that demanded a second try.
“Your brother does the same, so don’t try it on me!”
Anji looked at them, he had the bill ready in a second, no other clients needed him anyway. Leo got up as Unika did the same, grabbing her bag and fixing her jacket, asking for the bill without paying and waving goodbye to escape, laughing at her own joke. The older man’s frame caught his attention, now impossible to ignore, taking a considerable amount of space inside his little coffee shop as he took a step closer to the counter. He was taller than him. Seemingly as lonely as him.
“Mr. Teacher! I hope you liked the blue tea.” He gave him the ticket and Leo frowned at it. “May I suggest you don’t scold her for this?”
“Tsk, I’m used to their antics, both hers and her brother’s.” For some unknown reason to him, the task of finding his wallet and taking his card out took longer than usual.
“Are you two related? Are you her father’s brother?”
“No. Friend of the family.”
A friend of the family, for how long? He remembered a certain punch to his nose and the suit he wore as a groomsman. The time he took the kids to Germany and the next year Sol took them to America. The sound of the receipt being printed brought him back.
“Would you like to get a beer sometime?” He scribbled on the ticket, and slid it towards him on top of the counter along with the card. “It’s a bar upstairs, I have far more clients there and sometimes I host artists and it gets fun.”
It took Leo a moment to fully react, he could feel his hair standing on ends and a ridiculous burning feeling under his eyes. Anji didn’t let him speak and hit his pen against the counter, reminding him about the card and the receipt. He smiled and winked and fixed his glasses. “See you when the curtain falls, Mr. Teacher.”