[SPECIAL AU : START]
(Ophelia)
“Chocolates?” I called out to Leo, my best friend and the class president, as he rummaged through his backpack.
Distracted, he hesitated before murmuring, “Check!”
“Card?”
“Of course,” he said in a sing-song manner and threw more crap aside into a landfill-esque pile atop his desk.
Although the students around us were chatting away, waiting for the official start of the school day to return to their seats and act like decent enough children until chaos struck during the break, Leo somehow managed to be the loudest one in here. He tossed scissors, glue sticks, spiral notebooks, and some goddamn loose change around—no wonder his backpack was so heavy—as we went down each other’s White Day checklists.
Mine was almost useless; I already had my lovely girlfriend, Koharu, so it wasn’t like I had to woo her all over again. Of course, I was still stupidly adamant about getting everything right for her despite her insistence that I didn’t have to do anything grand, but it surely wasn’t as dire of a situation as Leo trying to make a good impression on his crush—some older person with whom he must have only shared one class at most. This was possibly his only chance.
I raised an eyebrow at him. Suspiciously, his plans were almost going too smoothly for my klutz of a best friend who sat in front of me. What was going to be his Achilles heel this time?
Maybe…
“...Cookies?”
The sound of a wooden pencil hitting the floor echoed through the classroom despite the unnerving ambience of chatter.
“Uh, I’ll have to get back to you on that one, captain.” He scurried to prevent the waterfall of office supplies from cascading from his backpack, seizing the White Day gifts he already had and hiding them within his desk.
My eye twitched a little. “We… can deal with this. You’ve still got something to give to your senior, even if it’s not everything.” With a gulp, I asked, “What’s their name again? I always forget because they’re so quiet.”
“Sinclair,” Leo responded matter-of-factly but in a quiet tone. He loved to talk about them so much to the point he’d probably ramble about their colorful eyes for ten hours straight without even once mentioning their name, but he was all “hush, hush” when it came to directly stating that he had a big, fat crush on the caramel-haired lurker.
Leo was a weirdo like that, but I guessed he had his reasons. He was a hatch that was hard to open but filled to the brim with emotions and words. If only his code weren’t so hard to crack…
As he scrambled to clean up the area around him and not appear suspicious, he did some kind of pretzel twist on the floor. The fucker was going to break his back at this rate, and then he definitely wouldn’t be seeing Sinclair for a while during his hospital stay.
Continuing with whatever weird shenanigans in which he partook, I decided to get him back on track by pulling a sack out of the largest pocket of his backpack. There was clearly some effort put into the wrapping, as was true of its future contents; the bag was not a trashy brown but rather, had been decorated with pink and red hearts, looking almost like it had been specially designed by Hallmark. I examined it further, letting the specks of carefully placed glitter run under my fingers in rough patches.
Huh. He’s serious about something… for once.
I chuckled a little to myself, and subsequently, Leo raised his head, nearly banging it on the side of the desk.
It must be magic or something that keeps him from getting hurt or killed with all the spontaneous shit he does.
As if to confirm my hypothesis about him being a magician in disguise, he seemed to have whipped a batch of macarons out of his ass.
Puzzled, I questioned, “Where the hell were you hiding those?”
He laughed, tracing his finger through the air as his eyes followed the tip. “Up, down, all around, Fifi.”
Alas, this little demon really was odd. I couldn’t ever get a straight answer out of him!
And on top of that, the bell had just rung, so I didn’t even have time to get my own gift together!
Leo, you had better have a damn good list ready for later!
While waiting for the passing period to hit after homeroom, I stared off into the distance—ahem, Leo’s back—while pondering the important questions.
For instance, why the fuck did one of my girlfriend’s dads have to be my teacher?
And her other dad? He was the goddamn principal!
Dating her makes it look like I’m pulling strings!
Passing over the usual shit like school events, fundraisers, and really peculiar warnings about kids stealing toilets and urinals for internet challenges, the teacher—technically Mr. Matsuo, but we were allowed to call him Mr. Hikaru for clarity so long as we addressed him respectfully—moved to a more topical and ear-catching subject.
“Already today, class,” he said in a sweet but firm voice, flicking his blond hair out of the way, “we’ve had some reports of White Day gifts gone wrong.” He cleared his throat. “I know you all think you’re invincible at this age, but I’ll be the first one to tell you that trying to fly down the stairs like cupid isn’t going to impress anyone when you bruise your face and look like a prune thereafter.”
The class exploded in laughter at that story. I wondered if a certain someone was beet-red in embarrassment from being called out like that.
Sometimes, I doubted the intelligence of the people around me. I slammed my head against the desk, suppressing a giggle.
I then craned my neck and gazed around the room for fun, noticing an odd sight in the back amidst the moment of mirth.
Sitting on a bench, two boys had fallen—and still were—asleep.
And what was it that made that scene unusual since Mr. Hikaru practically had to keep a spray bottle in hand to wake up drowsy students daily?
Well, I soon recognized the two boys as Akiyoshi—Koharu’s brother—and Algor, and it appeared they had toppled onto each other when passing out; Akiyoshi’s head was nestled between Algor’s head and shoulder.
When had they gotten that close? Or had they never been close, and it was all just a coincidence of fate and sleepyheads? After all, any guy in this class was probably softer than the shitty excuse for a metal bench that Mr. Hikaru kept around for some ungodly reason. Why did he have the dinky thing, anyway?
(In fact, I didn’t even want to pursue that inquiry further, fearing it would lead me into scarring territory faster than a plane could zip between towns.)
The last things that caught my eye were little bags placed by each boy's thigh. Beside Akiyoshi was a tiny sack addressed to... Koharu?
I meant, I knew the two were very close siblings, but weren’t the gifts today supposed to be romantic? Perhaps he meant it in a brotherly or platonic way, yet the thought still irked me some.
I don't think I'd make it look like a lover's present, though.
To get my mind off that, I squinted and attempted to read the tags of the bags beside Algor, the rather stoic and unempathetic senior who had somehow wandered into my classroom, likely to skip class in a somewhat ethical way. (When I thought about it, I realized that Akiyoshi was also wheedling his way out of his sophomore-level courses by going to his father's room.) With a heart beside each name, one of Algor's gifts was addressed to someone named Daemon, while the other was intended for—oh, fuck no—Sinclair.
Leo was going to have a fucking fit if this got to him! I made it my duty to distract him if he even considered scanning the back of the classroom.
For now, I turned my attention back to the man at the front, tuning back into his treacherous high school tales.
Mr. Hikaru raised his eyebrows a little at the loud sounds in the room before continuing, warning, “I’d advise you all not to join in any crazy stunts, but I also know I sound like I’m on my little soapbox here and that everyone’s going to engage in more dangerous confessions if I say that. Instead, heed this.” Mr. Hikaru raised a finger. “Don’t pull the stunt. It’s not going to score you any points, and you’re probably going to go home with a broken heart, anyway, if not some serious hours in detention.”
The newfound silence was broken by a groan from a person sitting next to me.
“I don’t know why any of the eleventh graders would be stupid enough to need this warning, sir,” Jisoo said, their silver bracelet glinting under the harsh LED lights with a bluish-white glow.
Mr. Hikaru sighed. “I hate to say it, but most of the… incidents today have been due to seniors. It’s the last day of the second-to-last grading period for them today, so I’m sure they’re either trying to get their senior pranks in or”—he rested his head on his hands—”are just being seniors, assuming that makes sense to everyone in here. Anyway, it’s just a generic warning. Take it to heart, or you’ll take the consequences later, class. And also, don’t lose your minds next year.”
By the end of his lecture, he was exasperated, sounding like a broken record with his mantra to absolutely not partake in romantic gestures at all costs today.
Pfft.
He probably also thinks pre-marital eye contact is scandalous.
As expected of juniors, they then proceeded to ask him as many idiotic questions as possible to stall for the rest of our homeroom period.
“Can I just give her a hug and tell her that I love her, sir?”
“What’s the penalty for having sex at school?”
“Mr. Hikaru, do you think romance is dead because of the education system?”
“What did you and your husband do on White Day, then?”
Apparently, the last question was too intrusive for him despite a student insinuating that kids were going to act… inappropriately—to put it lightly—in the hallways. The paparazzi was intent on storming him today, it seemed.
“All of you, please respect the policies put into place by the administration here. If you have any relevant questions, please direct them towards the assistant principals instead of me,” Mr. Hikaru finally announced, cracking under the barrage of bulleted inquiries.
A student in the back with brown hair yelled, “You’re just saying this to suck up to your husband, Mr. Matsuo!”
Now, I really couldn’t hold back a laugh, but Mr. Hikaru looked like he wanted to rip some kids’ throats out. I couldn’t exactly blame him.
“Aaron,” the teacher said, clenching his fists and nearly growling, “you now need to stay here for a few minutes after class.”
The brunette began moaning and groaning and whatever else, but Hikaru probably tuned him out—as did I. His incessant whining grated on my nerves every day, and I kinda wished Aaron would get suspended for insubordination already. That was probably a futile wish, though.
Amidst the bitching, the beeping from the intercom was the exact magic needed to shut the class up as the period was around halfway over.
“Mr. Hikaru, are you in your classroom right now?” Mr. Wen, one of the secretaries, asked over the speaker. His voice had a static-like quality to it, though it was necessary to chalk that up to the poor speaker quality as the thing was probably built over twenty years ago.
“Yes, do you need a student?” Mr. Hikaru responded far more gingerly than he had to his class.
A peculiar chuckle rang through the classroom, sounding much like nails on a chalkboard. “No, you just need to stay right there. I’m just checking up on your room.”
With a sigh, Mr. Hikaru rubbed his temples. “Then why in the world are you calling me over the intercom? I have a class to be dealing with.”
Only the soft breaths of students could be heard for a few moments.
“Mr. Wen? Hello? Hello? Are you still there?” He hit his podium. “He really just hung up like that. Why do those attendance officers act like they can’t spare a few seconds to explain themselves?”
My ears perked up a little.
Juicy faculty drama…?
I was probably grasping at straws, but since calls from the office were pretty infrequent during homeroom—
BANG!
I almost fell out of my seat, startled by someone’s aggressive knocking on the door. When I turned around to inspect the source of a subsequent crash, I found that Leo had landed on his ass and was in the process of rubbing it to dispel the pain.
“Are you okay?” I whispered to him, and he gave me a thumbs-up, fixing his skirt again as he sat back down with a dumb grin to hide his embarrassment. (Actually, that was a lie; he had no shame, so he was probably just amused at himself.)
When I swivelled my head, I was surprised to find that the door had now been slammed open. While, suspiciously, no one had entered it yet, the entire class stared at it like the school was haunted. Mr. Hikaru approached it with caution, knowing that, as the responsible adult (kinda) of the room, he was obliged to check for any sort of danger.
After a few more seconds, the blaring sound of a kazoo and an eruption of heart-shaped confetti blasted through the door, covering Mr. Hikaru in a plethora of red dots. He looked as if he was snarling, as if this was the antithesis to his entire browbeating for the past ten minutes.
“What is this mess—”
Like someone wanted to compound his misery by tenfold, a mysterious red layer of the maps attached to the top of Mr. Hikaru’s board unfurled, revealing a corny sign that said:
| Happy White Day! Love you, honey~ |
Even more heart stickers fell from the sign as it was laid out on the board, and Mr. Hikaru’s face turned bright red as some snickers permeated the room from the outside.
“I-Inei…”
At his name being muttered, our principal, Mr. Inei, stepped into the room with a goofy smile on his face. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around his husband and probably pecked him on the cheek just out of the students’ view.
A chorus of incoherent vowel sounds, mutters, and exclamations followed the gesture—as high school students did.
“Inei!” Mr. Hikaru yelled, though his attempt at sounding angry was ruined by the subtle grin that also painted his face. “I was just telling the students to not do these kinds of things at school! You’re setting a bad example for them!”
Mr. Inei pouted as he reluctantly backed away from his husband. “But I’m not a student, and I love you, Hikaru. I wanted you to have a good day, too, especially since you got me so many chocolates on Valentine's Day.”
It seemed that it took all of Mr. Hikaru’s willpower to not start screaming. Instead, he pressed his index finger to his husband’s nose, staring him in the eyes intently as he said, “Well, we still have all afternoon once school is over. It’s not like we’re teenagers who won’t see each other until after the break, dear.”
After he was finished speaking, a loud popping noise from who-knew-what came from the hallway again, and Mr. Hikaru jumped back a little. By then, I didn’t even flinch. There were enough explosions today that our school could have been mistaken for a battlefield.
From outside the door, a little cart rolled in with a cupcake atop it, seeming to be the pitiful finale of Mr. Inei’s ridiculous stunt. This part was rather comical, and it made me suspect that everyone had been suddenly thrown into a classic cartoon.
Well, I sure as fuck hope that’s the last of this!
“Why are you continuing with this?” Mr. Hikaru shouted, though he was still blushing. Nonetheless, he accepted the vanilla treat with both hands.
“I wasn’t the one who called off the White Day events, honey; that was Mr. Wen. And well, nobody’s getting hurt by this,” Mr. Inei chided with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Not once had he turned to look at the students. He probably wouldn’t have wanted to; we were all making faces at the scene, deriding him for doing this in the middle of school, and he was too focused on his husband to give a fuck about anyone else’s opinion. However, the spectacle was still entertaining, and I probably would have watched it like a movie had I not been used to the couple’s antics after visiting Koharu’s house enough times. (That was, if they weren’t arguing like children with stuffed animals.)
“My reputation with these kids might be.” Mr. Hikaru practically facepalmed, his expression twisting into one of both adoration and frustration.
Mr. Inei laughed. “I can always fix that for you. I can give you the moon and stars if you want, dear.” Cheekily beaming, he began playing with his gold wedding ring, directing his gaze towards an analogous band around Mr. Hikaru's finger.
With that flirtatious statement and eyebrow raise seeming to be the last straws, Mr. Hikaru threw his head back and shouted in frustration.
“This stupid, romantic husband of mine…”
Straightening his body back up, Mr. Hikaru probably muttered a few curse words to himself as he dragged Mr. Inei out of the room by his index finger. He turned around momentarily as if he wasn’t making his husband wince and whine in pain. In a scarily sweet voice, he said, “Class, I’ll be back in a moment. I need to have a few words with the principal before we resume the announcements. Leo is in charge until I get back since he’s the class president.”
Who the fuck puts Leo in charge? Are you crazy?
With a glint in his eyes as our teacher walked out for some personal time, Leo grabbed my shoulders and spun me around. This was usually a scary sign.
“It’s your chance. Get everything ready for Koharu while he’s gone.”
You have a good idea for once?
Well, whatever. I nodded to him in determination.
I wasn’t going to let this absurd opportunity pass me by! Where was my list?
