𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐧𝐨 || GENMUI

Seeing you again

ii.

Sanemi Shinazugawa wouldn't call himself a good person. He wouldn't exactly say he'd ever given the whole topic enough thought, not that he even gave a shit whether he was a saint or sinner, but he rarely had an appropriate amount of time to think over everything.

Being a teacher was unbearably stressful, especially in a town with an army of fuck-wads.
Sanemi has just one single younger brother that's educated at the exact same school. Overall, the whole 'good person' thing was something he had control over, something he could change in the present or past, but his relationship with his relative wasn't something he could easily change. Not with the snap of his fingers.

"Shinazugawa, busy dreaming again?" A pair of slender fingers crossed each other in front of the math teacher's face and snapped, making a quick, but loud enough sound to interrupt the albino's train of thought. Choppy, uneven bangs came into view along with two pairs of differently coloured eyes. One was an incandescent yellow shade, it shined with a unique shape but had a touch of malice. The other was mismatched but Iguro had managed to pull the aquamarine-like colour off.

Sanemi wasn't ever a word-y guy, (who bothers with shit like that?) but there was no other word that was fit to describe the other's eyes. Not one word the albino could think of was good enough for him to use. Although, he also didn't want to give the chemistry teacher too much credit or praise.

"Yeah, yeah," He grunted, smacking the pair of fingers out of his view. Obanai Iguro was the school's chemistry teacher, while Sanemi Shinazugawa was the math educator. When the black-haired man had first arrived, the taller didn't bother with 'connecting' or 'making new friendships'. The other would probably just be another distraction that seemed to only give fucks about his popularity plus reputation like Tengen Uzui, the art teacher. Or he'd be one more hindrance like Tomioka Giyuu, the gymnastic fitness instructor, to drive Sanemi insane.

Instead, he wasn't neither.

"Here," a cup of coffee had been shoved into Sanemi's hands, the ceramic surface felt hot on his skin. "Ah shit— It's hot—" Hissing, he settled it onto the table, afterwards proceeding to glare at the snickering man facing him. "Where's my thank you?" Obanai asked with palpable tease in his tone. "Thanks for burning my skin, shithead." Before the other could make a snarky remark, someone had interrupted.

"Iguro!!" A girlish, high-pitched voice broke throughout the room. The college art major, Mitsuri Kanroji stood by their table. Her peculiar hair - an intense, delicate pink that faded neatly into a healthy shade of green. Three, flowing braids: two that were mainly on display, framing each side of her face, the last one descending down her back. Bangs that were depicted as soft and slightly curved causing shadows across her peach-coloured forehead. Expressive, mint eyes with thick eyelashes complemented her bizarre hair, with two symmetrical black moles beneath her eyes. A hint of blush was splattered across her smooth-looking cheeks. Her appearance definitely left strangers speechless, but her bubbly, outgoing personality enhanced her likeable by a long shot.

A long breath escaped his mouth. There was an obvious dislike from him to the peachy girl. She was so bright and overly enthusiastic like a mosquito buzzing in your ear. It was annoying. For some strange reason, he'd grown even more irritated when the teacher opposite him smiled softly beneath his mask. "Hello, Kanroji." An undeniable strong urge to roll his eyes struck Sanemi, but he remained still. "Good morning! You too, Shinazugawa," The girl chirped as she reached into her bag.

As a rectangular-shaped cuisine had been carefully pulled out of the bag, it revealed a white bento that was prepared and ready with two pairs of chopsticks. The lively coloured girl placed it onto the porcelain table in front of the chemistry teacher, sheepishly smiling.