𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝘾𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙨 | 𝙐𝙯𝙪𝙯𝙚𝙣

𝟙.

"Pathetic."

Zenitsu couldn't agree more.

"Don't you want to get up eventually?"

Zenitsu only shook his head.
He didn't want to stand up. At this point, the floor should just open itself and swallow him whole.

"Come on, get up. Everyone left already."

Once again, Zenitsu shook his head. He even let out a heavy sigh. He couldn't get up, he was ugly-crying again. Before he could even consider his next move - probably shaking his head even stronger - his arm was being pulled, and his body lifted up effortlessly. Zenitsu whipped his head towards his teacher, expression offended and distorted in the ugliest way possible. "So unflamboyant.", was his teacher's first reaction. "Ugly.", the second. Zenitsu let out an even uglier sob and screeched: "IT'S YOUR FAULT!". His teacher's face contorted at that, thin brows furrowing and fuchsia eyes narrowing, "HAH!? Who was it that tripped over the ledge all by himself like a dimwit?!". Again, Zenitsu could only let out a sob. "I told you I didn't want to get up!", his face was completely red and his nose all runny. Like snotty brat, the blond sniffled and wiped his face with the sleeve of his sweater - not that it would be noticeable with the yellowish-green color.

Zenitsu felt beyond humiliated. It wasn't unusual for him to trip and fall, he did so routinely. But falling flat on his face, right before an entire class of students younger than him and his newest crush who happens to be the coolest teacher around? Yeah, he might as well just change his papers and leave the country once and for all.

⊱ ──────❉────── ⊰

It all started because of some stupid school festival that would be held in a few weeks. Zenitsu, as a part of the student council and responsible for the regulations to be followed, was assigned to take a big part in the preparations fully against his will. He didn't want to, but Aoi, head of the committee and also a very scary young woman, left him no chance but to take part as well. Considering that he had the choice between organizing and recruiting or later on doing actual hard work that required strength for transportation and creativity for building and decorating, he chose the task which suited him best.

Or so he thought. Oh, how wrong he had been. Damned be the naive past him!

The first point on his list, a suspiciously short list that must have been written by Kanao, another scary, yet pretty member of the committee, had him walking to the class room of Uzui Tengen, their most popular art teacher with a reputation of losing himself a bit too much in his expressionistic style and setting his class on fire not just once, but at least four times by now. It should have been no biggie, considering that Uzui-sensei is in the Top 5 Hottest Teacher List of literally anyone that has a pair of good eyes, and that he is in the Top 3 of Zenitsu's own or the fact that handsome people intimidated him. Ah, not to forget that, coincidentally, he also happened to be his current crush.

The whole thing had been doomed from the very beginning and to say that Zenitsu had a panic attack before even reaching the door to the art classroom was an understatement.

Nonetheless, he somehow managed and arrived shortly before the lesson would end so that he could talk to Uzui-sensei without having to trail behind the unofficial Uzui-Fanclub for the entire lunch-break. Thinking back on it, he regretted every decision he has ever made since the day of his own birth. Because as soon as Zenitsu had calmed himself down and waited for the bell to ring, he had reached for the door, slid it open and instantly tripped over the lightly raised ledge in the frame. He successfully face planted in front of at least 20 students his junior and the man he had the hots for, which was absolutely great. Fantastic, even.
Wanting to perish from existence on the spot, Zenitsu hadn't moved, just acted on instinct and played dead instead, hoping that no one would've caught on and ignored the blond blob on the floor. It would've been possible, maybe, if only the sound of impact hadn't been so incredibly loud and if his damn clipboard wouldn't have flown throughout half of the room before smacking Uzui-sensei right in his face - 100 points on accuracy, 0 on balance.

Shortly after playing a convincingly real corpse and enduring the loud shouts of Uzui-sensei and the accompanied hollering from his students, the newly gleeful young adults made their way out of the room, stepping over Zenitsu in the process as if he was the most pathetic piece of air to exist. He welcomed it, in a way, with reddened ears and the deep clawing feeling of burning shame. In the end, being treated as one with the floor was the best reaction he could've gained, after all.

So, thinking back, it all had been Aoi's fault. Going even further, it had been the school's fault for planning this stupid festival and making the committee do all the work.

⊱ ──────❉────── ⊰

Now, Uzui Tengen was, quite literally and metaphorically, looking down on the blond - more so than usual. "What are you doing here anyway?", he asked, his deep voice sounding fed up already. Great. What could be better than talking to an annoyed Uzui-sensei? It's not like they were bickering and bantering all the time anyhow. Still busy with rubbing his face clean from classroom floor and the pure shame of his existence, Zenitsu couldn't answer just yet.

"Oi, brat.", Uzui muttered and additionally flicked his already sore forehead to gain his attention. The blonde whined in protest, holding the assaulted and flushed skin protectively, while his thick brows furrow in irritation. Uzui was incredibly strong, the man being all tall and beefy, bulging muscles beneath his concealing hoodie, and he didn't even bother going soft on the younger man, like usual.
Still awaiting a reply, the teacher bent down to pick up the clipboard that had formerly improvised as an assault missile, to read the paper on it. It was then, that Zenitsu finally looked at him after this whole Zenitsu-Pancake fiasco.
And, damn, was it nerve wrecking. Uzui wore his white hair down today, with his usual weird flower resembling make-up around his left eye, his face handsome as ever. And, ugh, those pretty fucking eyes. He watched them scan the letters on the paper before his own gaze trailed up to Uzui's forehead. Missing his tacky bejeweled headband, there was a red spot, right in the center of it. Funnily enough, they matched. Nonetheless, the blond felt guilt rise up in his chest and turned a deep red again. With different circumstances, he would've counted this as an exceptional win.

"So you need help for the upcoming festival?", the teacher's voice was still irritated, but calmer than before. Zenitsu needed a moment to process the change of pace and civil topic of conversation. He nodded shortly, explaining: "We want to recruit students of your classes to help with the decorations and the overall design of the festival.". Uzui put his index finger and thumb on his chin, rubbing it as he hums a long and deep tone in thought. It's a sound Zenitsu enjoyed - Uzui's deep voice in general had a strange way of calming him down, of soothing him, sounding like music to his sensitive ears. How ironic, when it was often the same man irritating him to begin with.
Uzui nodded his head slowly, seemingly processing his thoughts and the matter and contemplating something. "Okay.", was his final response and Zenitsu nearly jumped out of pure happiness. He'd imagined that convincing Uzui-sensei would've taken a lot more than falling face first into the ground. He had already seen himself on his knees and begging, offering his very own soul to the devil, considering the man had a rather difficult personality on most days.

"Thank yo-", just as he wanted to thank his suddenly generous teacher, overjoyed and close to tears as heaven seemed near, Uzui interrupted him, breaking the dream bubble he just created. "What do I get out of it?".

'Generous, my ass.', Zenitsu thought, a scowl back on his face as he grew timid of the horrors awaiting him.

He was going to die, wasn't he??

⭑ᵉᵈⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ⁰³⁻⁰⁵⁻²⁰²⁴
⭑ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ²⁰⁻¹²⁻²⁰²¹