Fighting your demons (SaneOba)

Part 2

It was a typical day at the high school. Sanemi had woken up at the usual time, gone through his routine with the same detached efficiency—brushing his teeth, grabbing whatever breakfast was within reach, and heading out the door. The hum of the city and the familiar path to the campus were as monotonous as ever, and the weight of the day already pressed on him. Teaching wasn't hard, but it was draining in its own way. The classroom walls seemed to close in on him sometimes, the relentless flow of students and expectations making everything blur together.

By lunch, the familiar tightness in his chest had settled in. He was used to it—another day, another set of duties. He decided, like he had so many times before, to escape for a brief moment. The coffee shop down the street wasn't anything special, but it offered him a sliver of peace. Caffeine would do him good too, keep him sharp for the remainder of the day.

As he entered the shop, he took his place in the line, eyes scanning over the menu, though he already knew what he wanted. The hum of conversations and the occasional clatter of cups filled the air, but Sanemi was hardly paying attention. He just needed the jolt to get through the rest of this tiring day.

Suddenly, something shifted in his peripheral vision. The guy in front of him—a shorter man, dressed neatly but unremarkably—fumbled with something. Sanemi noticed a pair of glasses slip from the man's hands, landing with a light tap against the floor, right in front of him. Instinctively, Sanemi bent down to retrieve them, the motion almost mechanical.

"They're fine," he grunted, extending the glasses back to the man.

It should have been a brief, forgettable moment. But when the man looked up at him, Sanemi's whole body seemed to freeze. The stranger had medium-length black hair, a black mask covering the lower half of his face, and what struck Sanemi most were his eyes—mismatched, one a vivid shade of blue, the other a deep, unsettling gold. It was as if those eyes pierced right through him, making something stir deep inside his chest, something painful and inexplicable.

For a moment, Sanemi felt like he couldn't breathe. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he stared at the man, the world around them dulling into a muted hum. Who was this guy? Why did his presence feel so jarring? It wasn't just the odd look in his eyes—it was something deeper, a gut-wrenching familiarity that he couldn't place. The feeling gnawed at him, a sense of déjà vu so strong it made his chest tighten.

He was left staring, dumbfounded, his heart beating just a little faster than normal. He couldn't understand why. It wasn't fear, nor was it exactly pain. It was a strange discomfort that clawed at his insides, as if something was missing, or... wrong.

The stranger, however, didn't seem to share the weight of the moment. He simply nodded his thanks, took the glasses from Sanemi's hand, and turned to leave. The entire interaction couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but to Sanemi, it felt like time had slowed down, stretching that fleeting moment into an eternity.

As the man walked out of the shop, disappearing into the throng of people outside, Sanemi found himself still rooted to the spot. The noise of the coffee shop returned, and the line shifted forward, but he barely noticed. His mind was racing, his thoughts a chaotic jumble. Why was his chest still aching? Why did he feel so... unsettled? It wasn't like him to get caught up in small, meaningless encounters. He didn't care about people, not really—he was too hardened for that. Yet, there was something about the man with the black mask and mismatched eyes that stirred something inside him that he hadn't felt in years. A pang of something. A sense of loss? Regret? Recognition?

But how could that be? He didn't know him. Did he?

Sanemi shook his head as if to clear it, trying to will away the strange sensation, but it lingered like a shadow, tugging at his thoughts. He grabbed his coffee quickly, almost forgetting to pay, and left the shop in a hurry, hoping the fresh air would help. But as he stepped outside and scanned the busy street, the man was already gone, lost in the sea of faces. Sanemi stood there for a moment longer, unable to shake the feeling that something had just slipped through his fingers, something important. But what? And why did he feel like he'd just lost something he couldn't even name?