The Mastermind is a Middle School Student (KHR FF)

Not Like This

(36: maybe this is wrong, maybe you are right)

[-1-]

Mornings for Eitou were never this comfortable.

Usually, he would groan in bed for half an hour, twist and turn, promise himself another minute, before leaving his house an hour later than appropriate. It's usually silent, of course, but also tiring. He wakes up like the rising dead and moves the rest of the day like a zombie.

Usually, he would not find himself caged under someone's arm, his injured thigh thoughtfully propped up and cared for. He wouldn't be awake by eight, looking at the ceiling blankly while the bustle of Namimori passed him by. He wouldn't be so relaxed, not needing to leave for school and smiling through another day of hard work.

He wouldn't be...

This... comfortable...?

"..."

Hot breath fans the side of his neck, forming a slow and steady rhythm that Eitou had subconsciously made the backdrop of his musings. Thin but surprisingly firm arms trap his torso firmly onto the cold cotton bedsheets. The width of the bed is truthfully only suitable for one person, but the extreme closeness between the two entangled in the sheets more than compensated for it.

Not that Eitou liked any part of that thought.

Still, it was comfortable.

"..."

But, maybe not this kind of comfort.

"Stop thinking."

A raspy voice cuts his monologue into irretrievable pieces. Whatever solid thoughts he had gathered up this sleepy morning had burst into flames, especially when the person beside him slowly sat up, releasing the hold over Eitou's prone figure. Eitou vaguely heard a small sluggish groan from the other, but then again, it could have been Eitou himself making that noise. When you're this close, it's hard to tell.

Hibari, tussled and uncharacteristically harmless, immediately reached out for Eitou's wounded thigh.

The gardener did not react as dramatically as he had when he first woke up, having been trained after a few days of living and sleeping together. Instead, he lifted it obediently, letting careful hands fold his ankle-length pants until the visible weight of his thigh spilt out between gaps of white bandages. The pitiful fat that had managed to gather in his thigh tumbled out the sides of the pants with meagre determination. Eitou was sure that a single day of work could help him lose the extra weight. He likes to think of himself as a ripped low-fat body builder, but honestly, he's probably more tall and lanky than fit and muscly.

... Thinking back, in his past life, he had a decent build. At least one that he could shamelessly post online and get thousands of DMs from unknown strangers. Unknown and extremely horny strangers.

... Thinking back, when was the last time he truly recalled his past life that was not related to teaching?

"... It's kinda cold."

A warm palm presses itself onto Eitou's exposed earlobe. Eitou lets out an unrestrained sigh.

Each morning, just as Eitou would lose himself to meaningless running trains of musings, Hibari would wake up on time. Every morning since he woke up from his long dream, Hibari would change the bandage left overnight. Every morning since the incident, Eitou would wake up to the intense stare of Namimori's uncrowned king - -like a well-cared pet by a diligent owner.

Maybe diligent isn't the word, he pondered, but Hibari sure does not miss a single second.

Like clockwork, Eitou huffs to himself.