Work Text:
What do you do with a seventeen year old who’s had no education since he was twelve, and an eighteen year old who’s had no education ever?
You send them to school, of course.
Well, that’s that Shiba decides to do. How he ended up in this situation is beyond him, but Azami has far too much authority these days, so he decides to blame him for it. I’ll get my revenge, he thinks. Mark my words.
But revenge has to wait. And it’s nice to make it wait. For too long now Shiba has been following Chihiro on his own quest of revenge, and now it’s all over, and the time has come to rebuild instead of tearing something else down.
Hakuri’s almost eighteen by the time it all dies down, but in many ways he’s still a kid. His family didn’t bother to continue with his tutoring – in literature and mathematics and science and everything else – once they decided that, at age twelve, he’d failed to prove himself a sorcerer. He has a basic education, but it’s as clear as day that he needs more. He’s receptive to this, when Shiba broaches the idea, but that might be because of Chihiro’s encouragement. Chihiro let his own education fall to the wayside when he was fifteen, but he has a long career as a blacksmith ahead of him, so Shiba doesn’t see the point in forcing him back into school. Not when his path is so clear. Hakuri’s path, though, is less so. And he wants to learn. He wants to see the world outside of the Sazanami estate and he wants to know what he can be.
Shiba says he’ll arrange it. He has a soft spot for Hakuri, the kid who threw himself in front of Chihiro to save him when he barely even knew him. An actual high school probably isn’t the best bet, but Shiba says that he will find a tutor.
That’s when Azami throws a spanner into the works.
“Deal with Hiruhiko,” he says.
“Who?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.” Azami jabs a finger at him. “I have to get headquarters rebuilt. He’s basically a kid. Make him normal.”
“I can’t—”
“Shiba, you owe me one.”
“I—” Shiba stops. Azami’s sleeve has ridden up and he can see the bandages peeking out, gauze wrapped around his arm where it was reattached, and he loses steam. If he’d gotten there sooner than Azami wouldn’t have had to spend weeks lying in hospital as the healing magic slowly regrew his nerves and his limbs regained function. He supposes he does owe him one. Several, probably. “Fine,” he says, dejected. “I’ll deal with Hiruhiko.”
And that’s how they end up in school together.
Though of course, it isn’t quite that simple.
First, he has to wrangle Hiruhiko. Shiba assumes he’s been given this task because of how he wrangled the remaining members of the Sazanami clan, and how much different can one member of the Hishaku be? He collects him from jail and briefs him on the situation, and Hiruhiko tells him where he can shove it. Shiba grabs him by the collar of his shirt and teleports the pair of them high above Tokyo, and they have a quick conversation as they plummet down to earth. When Shiba whisks them back onto the sidewalk, Hiruhiko is much more receptive to his idea.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Shiba says. “To be normal?”
“I wanted to have a friend to fight to the death,” says Hiruhiko.
“Yeah.” Shiba flaps a hand at him, thinking of Azami. “Normal.”
Hiruhiko grumbles some more, but he accepts. He’s going to be in Kamunabi custody for the foreseeable future except for his education, so it’s not like he has anything better to do. Shiba tells him that his schooling will start in a week, and it will take place in the Kamunabi headquarters, because he’s not about to be held responsible for the destruction of some civilian facility.
Next, he has to find someone to do the teaching. He’s not doing it himself, because when he was supposed to be at school Shiba preferred to teleport onto the roof and smoke, looking cool and learning nothing. What happens if one of these kids asks him what algebra is? It’s some bullshit, that’s what it is, but Shiba has to find someone with a better answer. And they have to be equipped to deal with a murderer and a guy who’s knocked down a building or two. That means poaching someone from the ranks of the Kamunabi. Azami won’t mind. Shiba starts by prowling through the library and pouncing on likely candidates until he finds someone who fits the bill.
Her name’s Mizuki Kirino, and Shiba picks her largely because she’s one of the few people who isn’t surprised when he appears out of nowhere as she’s sorting some books. She’s one of the Kamunabi’s scholars, and specialises in defensive sorcery, which Shiba thinks will be useful for teaching Hakuri and Hiruhiko. He promises that she’ll get paid extra for this, and she makes him get it in writing. A pain in the ass, but he can’t blame her. But, she agrees, and that’s what matters. She’ll tutor the kids three days a week until they’re at an acceptable level of education. He decides to leave it to her to work out what that means.
When Shiba gets home that day he treats himself to a beer and a cigarette and he puts his feet up on the couch.
He’s earned it.
*
On Monday morning, Hakuri wakes up before the alarm goes off. It’s his first day of school, and he can’t wait.
When he rolls over, he sees that Chihiro’s already gone. That’s to be expected, though. He’s busy relearned all he knows about smithing, and he’s at it from dawn until dusk. It’s been fascinating, to hear about his progress, and Hakuri will finally be able to make some progress of his own.
He showers and gets dressed, thinking about what all of this means. With an education the world will be his oyster; he can leave the Sazanami name behind and make something new. Hakuri never thought about what he wanted to be when he grew up, but now he can think of that. He’d like to work with children, he thinks. A teacher, maybe, or a social worker. He wants to help kids like himself, kids who have no one else in their corner.
This is the first step.
Hakuri and Chihiro both live with Shiba, and Hakuri waits for him to get up so he can take him to the Kamunabi headquarters. Hakuri doesn’t have an ID card. While he waits he shovels down a bowl of cereal and tries to imagine what school will be like.
It’s only a tutor, but Shiba cryptically told Hakuri that he wouldn’t be alone in the class, so maybe there are other teenagers, other children of families who wouldn’t let them flourish, and they’ll be there as well. He imagines them like himself, kids who just wanted to find their place in the world. Maybe they’ll be shy at first, unsure of how to act. But then Hakuri will be the one to take the first step towards friendship, thinking of Chihiro as he does it. He’ll raise his hand to ask a question in class. He’ll share his snacks with the others. He’ll tell a joke, or a story, and make the others laugh.
An excited shiver runs up his spine.
This is going to be wonderful.
*
“I’m Hakuri,” he says happily, standing at the door of the repurposed office in headquarters. Inside there’s a blackboard on the wall, six desks facing another at the front, a bookshelf, and some cabinets. A real classroom!
“Mizuki Kirino,” says the woman Shiba’s brought him to. He’s gone now, claiming he needs to go deal with something.
“Ms Kirino,” Hakuri says.
Kirino smiles and cocks her head to the side. “I like that,” she says. “You’re very respectful. Come choose a desk.”
Hakuri picks the one in the front and centre. He takes a notebook and pencil out of his backpack, then slides it under his chair. Kirino watches as he sits up straight and clasps his hands together on the top of the desk, and she smiles. She likes him, he can tell, and that’s good. He wants to do well.
Only a couple of minutes pass before Shiba reappears, and Hakuri knows that he’s reappeared because he hears a crash out in the hallway, and Shiba swearing, and someone cackling—
Hakuri’s heart sinks.
He knows that cackle.
Shiba opens the door too roughly and it bangs against the wall. Kirino glares at him and he gives her an apologetic grin. Hakuri barely notices this, though, because there, standing in the door, is someone he hates.
Hiruhiko.
He blinks, and he’s still here. He rubs his eyes, and he’s still there.
How is this possible? Hiruhiko is a member of the Hishaku! He should be in prison! Hakuri gapes at him and Hiruhiko glares back, eyes wide and jaw clenched. He seems to be just as shocked and angry about this as Hakuri is.
“Well,” says Shiba. “Here’s your other student.”
Then he give Hiruhiko a shove into the room and teleports away.
Hiruhiko stands there, surveying his surroundings like a cornered animal. He looks at the blackboard and Kirino standing before it, arms crossed and a scowl on her face. He looks at the cabinets and the desk, at the windowless walls. He looks at the door, but before he can get his hopes up it slams shut and he hops backwards, startled. Kirino smirks; a trick of her sorcery, Hakuri assumes.
“Don’t just stand there,” she says to Hiruhiko. “I’m your teacher, Ms Kirino. Please sit down.”
Hakuri’s expecting him to make a fuss, to fight back, to destroy and to kill because that’s what he does. He’s already tense himself, hands making shapes under the table of their own accord, ready to fire off an Isou if necessary. But maybe it’s the shock of the situation, because Hiruhiko obeys. He wanders over to the back of the room and takes one of the end desks on the back row. Basically as far as he can get from Hakuri, which isn’t very far at all.
“Right,” says Kirino. “That’s everyone, so—”
“Everyone?” Hakuri blurts out. “What do you mean? There are no more students?”
Kirino sighs and rolls her eyes. “No, Hakuri, just you two,” she says. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind not interrupting—”
Hiruhiko snickers and Hakuri feels his face burn with embarrassment. He made a fool of himself in front of the teacher! Already! His plan to be a good student is failing. He grabs his pencil and clutches it in his fists, ready to take notes.
“—I will be teaching you everything you need to know to be a productive member of society,” Kirino continues. “Well, I will be teaching you math and science and literature, that sort of thing. We’ll start with math. I only have you for three days every week, so let’s go!”
As it turns out, Hakuri doesn’t have to worry about Hiruhiko destroying everything, because lessons are hard.
Kirino has no mercy. She isn’t a good teacher. She’s a scholar, a researcher, and she doesn’t know a thing about making this understandable or palatable. She quickly ascertains both Hakuri and Hiruhiko’s education levels, and since Hiruhiko has had less schooling they start with something he can understand. It’s still hard. She breezes through long sums and theories and algebra and Hakuri is so focused on his own notes that he doesn’t even have a moment to look back and see how Hiruhiko’s doing; or rather, make sure that he isn’t doing better than he is.
After an hour of math, Kirino gives them a break to go to the bathroom while she gets herself some coffee. Hakuri takes the opportunity and flees the room, leaving Hiruhiko at his desk and folding a paper crane.
He’s just washing his hands when the bathroom door swings open and Hiruhiko walks in.
“You’re the guy who follows Chihiro around,” he says. “What do you need school for?”
Hakuri bristles with anger. The guy who follows Chihiro around? He thinks he’s earned a little more than that; he and Chihiro fought side by side from the moment they met, understanding each other, trusting each other. He doesn’t follow him. If he followed him then he would be at the forge today, not at the Kamunabi headquarters trying to get a regular education! He scoffs and flicks the water from his hands.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.
“What’s your name again?” Hiruhiko leans against the wall, folding his arms and cocking his head to the side. “I actually don’t remember.”
Hakuri rolls his eyes and leaves without answering.
The rest of the day is more of the same.
When Hakuri finally gets home – Shiba having walked back with him after he took Hiruhiko back to whatever pit he dragged him out of in the first place – he collapses facedown on the couch.
“I hate school,” he moans into the cushion.
Shiba perches on the arm and pats his head. “There, there,” he says. “That’s what it’s supposed to be like.”
It’s supposed to be like this? Hakuri’s heart sinks, and he resists the urge to scream. This isn’t anything like what he’d hoped for.
*
Things only get worse when Chihiro gets home.
“Two weeks?” protests Hakuri.
Chihiro nods. “For my father’s forge to be rebuilt. I need to go and oversee it.” He gives Hakuri a sympathetic smile. “I wish you could come! But, your classes—”
“I know.” Hakuri flops onto his back. He’s still on the couch, recuperating from his day. “You’ve got to go, and I have to learn.” He sighs, thinking of two weeks of classes with no Chihiro to make his day better when he’s done. “I’ll miss you, though.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” Chihiro pokes his knee and Hakuri lifts his legs so he can sit down. He puts them back down over Chihiro’s lap. “Anyway, tell me about your first day!”
Hakuri covers his face with his hands. “I hate school.”
Chihiro purses his lips and hums thoughtfully. “I think you’re supposed to.”
*
The next day, Hakuri chooses a desk at the other side of the classroom from Hiruhiko, to add more separation. Kirino doesn’t comment on this and neither does Hiruhiko, though he does snort with laughter when Shiba drags him in from—where is he living, anyway? Hakuri’s been assuming that he’s in jail, but is he really? He’s in jail and they’re letting him out for school?
Whatever.
The lessons are hard, but Hakuri finds a spark of enjoyment beginning to flicker in the difficulty of it. He remembers being a kid, he and Tenri and their tutor, and he remembers the satisfaction of learning, of coming out of a lesson and knowing that he was smarter than he was when he went in. It’s the same now; he can almost feel his mind at work, stretching, becoming elastic again. When the first lesson’s over he sits back in his chair and looks down at his notebook, the page filled with chemical formulae and diagrams of atoms. He’s learning science. Science! He draws a little smiley face next to where he’s written the subject at the top of the page, and sets his pencil down.
Hiruhiko heads off to the bathroom and Kirino goes to make coffee. Hakuri decides to do some snooping.
The corridors are echoey here, so he’ll probably hear if Hiruhiko comes back, but if he doesn’t then he doesn’t really care. What’s Hiruhiko going to do, fight him? He wouldn’t – this is his only shot at freedom, Hakuri assumes, so he’s going to want to keep it. With that in mind, he wanders over to his desk.
Hiruhiko’s notebook isn’t as nice as Hakuri’s. It looks cheap. The Kamunabi must have given it to him. His pencil is cheap, too, like one from a big box with a hundred other pencils in it. His handwriting is sloppy and childlike and the paper is scuffed from where he’s erased it too many times. A satisfied smile tugs at the corner of Hakuri’s mouth; Hiruhiko isn’t better than him. He’s worse. A lot worse, in fact.
Good, he thinks.
But when he slips back into his seat and looks at his own neat handwriting, there’s a pang in his chest. Hiruhiko has had even less schooling than him. Less, when Hakuri’s education was cut short at the age of twelve. And the erasing, over and over; he’s trying. He’s trying to learn, just like Hakuri is.
Maybe Hakuri isn’t the only one trying to find his place in the world.
Hiruhiko returns to the classroom before Kirino, and saunters over to Hakuri’s desk.
“How’s Chihiro,” he says with a smug grin.
Hakuri tenses. “Fine.”
“Too busy to come hang out with you?” Hiruhiko wrinkles his nose. “Why’d I get stuck with you, instead of him?”
Hakuri clenches his fists under the table and slows his breathing. In and out, in and out. He calms himself, and lets his irritation go.
“We’re both here to learn,” he says. “Let’s make the best of it.”
“Boring.” Hiruhiko kicks Hakuri’s chair.
“It’s school,” says Hakuri, rising above his provocation. “It’s supposed to be boring.”
Hiruhiko narrows his eyes, then shrugs and ambles off back to his own desk, but he says something under his breath as he sits down, which Hakuri just about catches; “We’ll see about that.”
*
Nothing happens for the rest of the day, even though Hakuri’s on edge after hearing Hiruhiko’s comment. They do some more math and more science, and a little bit of geography, which Hakuri likes a lot. Hiruhiko seems to like it, too, though Hakuri’s only paying attention because he thinks he’s going to pull something.
At home, the apartment’s lonely. Shiba plays video games with him for a little bit, but he’s ruthless and too good, and losing gets boring after a while. Hakuri goes to bed early; tomorrow is the last day of tutoring he has this week. As much as he’s looking forward to the break, he’ll miss learning. Maybe he could go to the library at the weekend, he thinks.
Partway through the morning, when Kirino’s back is turned, something hits Hakuri on the head.
It startles him. He looks down and sees a crumpled ball of paper, and when he glares over at Hiruhiko he sees him staring forward at the blackboard, none the wiser. Yeah, right, Hakuri thinks. There’s nobody else in the room! Who else could have thrown it? He scoops it up and unfurls it, wondering if there’s a message. There isn’t, so Hakuri scrunches it back up and throws it towards the trashcan by the door.
“Hakuri!” snaps Kirino.
He jolts upright. “Ah—Ms Kirino, sorry, I—”
“I don’t want any messing around!” she says, jabbing a finger at him.
Hakuri gapes at her. “But it wasn’t—I didn’t do anything!” He points at Hiruhiko. “It was him!”
“You can’t expect me to believe you just because he’s a criminal,” Kirino says, rolling her eyes. “He’s been paying attention. You could learn something from that.”
Hakuri slumps. He knows better than to argue. He mumbles an apology and Kirino turns back to the blackboard. When Hakuri glances at Hiruhiko, he sees a shit eating grin plastered on his face. He’s so tense that he can hardly listen for the rest of the lesson, and when Kirino suddenly calls on him to answer a question, his mind goes completely blank. Kirino waits for him for ten seconds, then twenty, then almost a minute, until with a sigh she turns to Hiruhiko.
“Hydrogen!” he says, delighted with himself.
“Very good!”
Hakuri groans. He didn’t even know what the question was. Hiruhiko’s thrown him off. How can he get away with acting like this? Doesn’t Kirino know who he is? But it only gets worse from there; when they take a break to eat snacks – and so Kirino can head off to deal with some Kamunabi business – Hakuri pulls his out his backpack and stares down dejectedly at his food. He has some rice crackers and a chocolate bar. The rice crackers are shaped like fish, and it makes him miss Chihiro.
The scrape of a chair on the floor pulls him out of his self-pity. Hakuri’s eyes flick up to see Hiruhiko shuffling over on a chair.
“Leave me alone,” Hakuri says. “Go eat your snacks away from me.”
“I didn’t bring snacks.”
Hakuri clenches his jaw. As much as he doesn’t like Hiruhiko, his mind goes back to his messy handwriting, the pencil erased again and again. Cheap pencil. Of course the Kamunabi didn’t spring for some snacks. Hakuri looks down at his crackers and his chocolate, and after a moment of consideration, he slides the chocolate towards him.
“Here,” he says. “You can have it.”
“Gross, I don’t like chocolate.” Hiruhiko points at the rice crackers. “Give me those.”
“You’re so ungrateful!” Hakuri shakes his head in disbelief. “Fine! You can’t have any snacks. Go sit down and don’t eat—”
“Hakuri!”
Hakuri can’t believe his bad luck. Kirino’s just walked in, and judging by the look on her face, she only caught the tail end of that. “Ms Kirino—”
“You really can’t share your snacks?” She scowls at him. “Shiba said you were a good kid, you know.”
“I offered him the chocolate, but he said he didn’t like it!” Hakuri protests.
Hiruhiko looks at her with big, beseeching eyes. “I like chocolate,” he says in a small voice.
“Everyone likes chocolate,” Kirino says sympathetically.
Hakuri grits his teeth and shoves both snacks towards him. “Have whichever you want,” he says as Kirino nods approvingly.
Hiruhiko grins at him, and takes the chocolate.
*
When he gets home, Hakuri goes straight to bed and screams into his pillow.
He hates Hiruhiko. Hates him.
It’s almost worse, in a way, than when they were fighting him along with the rest of the Hishaku. At least then, everyone knew he was an enemy. But now it’s like they’re falling over themselves to treat him nicely! He pulled the shit with the paper again that afternoon, and when Hakuri complained to Shiba about him, he laughed! He said it was how school was supposed to be, and Hakuri’s starting to get tired of that refrain.
He doesn’t even have Chihiro to keep him company. He’s off in the countryside, overseeing the rebuilding of the forge that will allow him to follow in his father’s footsteps, and Hakuri is stuck here with Hiruhiko as the thorn in his side.
The days pass with little fanfare. Hakuri can’t even enjoy himself. Shiba takes him out for ice cream and ruffles his hair and tells him to just look at him and Azami – they always used to fight like feral cats at school, and now they’re the best of friends! Hakuri nods dejectedly; he doesn’t want to fight anyone like a feral cat. He didn’t fight Chihiro.
School comes back around before he knows it, and Hiruhiko’s immediately back to his old tricks. He throws paper and Hakuri gets blamed for it. One afternoon, he leaves to go to the bathroom and Kirino leaves after him, but Hiruhiko doubles back without her seeing. He draws a dick on the blackboard with chalk, then runs off again, and Hakuri’s just darting up to wipe it away when Kirino walks in and sees, and she scolds him and calls him a rude little delinquent.
A delinquent!
Hakuri!
Kirino’s turning against him, he can tell, and it’s Hiruhiko’s fault. Hakuri holds his pencil so tightly in his hand that he’s worried it’ll snap in half, and the next day it does just that. He squeezes and squeezes, thinking of how this is nothing like his fantasy of what school ought to be, and then – CRACK! The pencil breaks. Kirino scolds him for what feels like the millionth time and Hakuri accepts it meekly, because this time it really was his own fault.
At lunch, Hakuri hands a snack over to Hiruhiko without being prompted. Kirino praises him, but it means nothing now. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He slumps at his desk and stares at the blackboard, at the sums written in chalk, and he thinks of how quickly his excitement vanished. Snuffed out like a candle. All he wants now is to get through this so that he never has to see Hiruhiko again.
There’s a knock at the door and some Kamunabi guy sticks his head in.
“Kirino,” he says. “We need you. There’s been an incident in the library. Someone drew a rune wrong and it exploded.”
Kirino groans and points first at Hakuri, then at Hiruhiko, then back at Hakuri. “I’ll be back soon. If you misbehave, I’ll tell Shiba.”
Then she storms out and pulls the door shut behind her.
Hakuri folds his arms on the top of his desk and rests his head on them, facedown. Maybe he can take a nap. He hasn’t been sleeping well. He closes his eyes and thinks about Chihiro out in the countryside, enjoying the sunshine and the sound of long grass waving in the wind.
He must fall asleep, because he’s startled by a tap on his shoulder and jolts upright.
“Huh?” He looks at Hiruhiko. “What—how long was I out?”
“Half an hour,” Hiruhiko says with a shrug. “I was so bored. I was going to cut your hair—” he reaches out and flicks the snowy lock that Hakuri wears long by the side of his face, “—but I couldn’t find any scissors.”
Hakuri gapes at him. “Why would you cut my hair?”
“Uh, because I was bored,” Hiruhiko says, like it’s obvious. “The door’s locked.”
“What?” Hakuri leaps to his feet and the chair falls backwards, landing on the floor with a crash. Hakuri runs to the door and tries to yank it open to no avail. “I don’t—Kirino! Ms Kirino locked us in!”
Hiruhiko snickers. “Guess she doesn’t trust us.”
Hakuri whirls around and jabs a finger at him. “You’re the one who can’t be trusted!”
“Aw, you’re not mad about all of those pranks, right?” Hiruhiko grins at him. “That was just messing around. Schoolfriends.”
“We are not friends!”
“Duh, you aren’t Chihiro.”
Hakuri knows he needs to keep calm, knows that he needs to centre himself, but he can’t. The anger is bubbling deep inside him like magma roiling beneath the surface of the earth and he’s ready to erupt. Hiruhiko looks happy, too happy, standing there with his arms folded and a delighted smile on his face, his pale pink eyes shining with mischief, because he’s having so much fucking fun. He’s having fun, and Hakuri’s at the edge.
No, not at the edge; he’s beyond that. He’s fallen from the edge, taken a running leap to jump over, because this was supposed to be something wonderous and instead it’s ruined.
Hakuri lets the anger burst hot and bright in him like a firework, and he lunges.
Hiruhiko cackles. “Finally, you’re letting—”
He doesn’t get the chance to finish before Hakuri slams him up against the wall, knocking a desk out of the way in the process. Without thinking he summons the mask to cover one of his eyes, Isou and the Storehouse both at his beck and call. He pins Hiruhiko by the shoulders and bares his teeth at him in a snarl.
“You are such an asshole,” he spits. “You ruined school!”
Hiruhiko’s wide grin widens, feral and wild. “I didn’t ruin it,” he says. “I made it fun.”
“I wanted to learn,” Hakuri hisses. “I wanted to do well. You made Ms Kirino hate me!”
“Only because you got caught.”
Hakuri wants to throttle him. Instead he gives him a shake and squeezes his shoulders hard, reminding him of the strength he has now. “Why can’t you be normal?”
“This is normal,” Hiruhiko says with yet another laugh, a sound that could break glass and which makes Hakuri want to rip his own ears off it’s so unbearable. “Fighting at school.”
“How would you know, you never went to school!”
“Neither did you.”
Hakuri clenches his jaw. It’s true that his schooling was all very proper, he and Tenri kneeling respectfully as they were taught. There were no classrooms for him, no rowdy laughter and pranks on the playground. No schoolfriends. Hiruhiko cocks his head to the side.
“We’re not all that different, are we?” he says.
“You said that to Chihiro,” growls Hakuri.
“Me and him, we’re the same.” Hiruhiko nods. “Me and you… maybe we’re not as different as I thought.”
“Chihiro is nothing like you!” Hakuri exclaims, and before he knows what he’s doing he spins, taking Hiruhiko with him and throwing him to the floor.
He lands with a thud, grin vanishing for a moment as he winces, but then Hakuri leaps on him and pins him down, knees on his thighs, hands planted either side of his head, and the smile comes back.
Hiruhiko’s enjoying this, Hakuri realises.
He lets the mask vanish. What is he doing? This violence, fighting in the classroom? He can’t get up though, because as soon as he shifts – as soon as he makes his intentions clear – Hiruhiko grabs his face, threading his fingers into his hair.
And something else stirs in Hakuri then.
“Maybe we are friends,” Hiruhiko murmurs, fingers digging into Hakuri’s scalp.
“We are not—” Hakuri narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, “—friends.”
Hiruhiko licks his lips. “Something else, then?”
Hakuri groans. “What could we possibly—”
Hiruhiko tightens his grip on his hair and yanks him down, and Hakuri’s yelp of surprise is cut off when their lips crash together.
It’s crude. Rough. Their teeth clack and Hakuri’s frozen with complete and utter shock. This is a kiss. Hiruhiko is kissing him. Clumsily and carelessly and without a care for what will happen. His eyes are closed but Hakuri’s are wide, and he—
Huh.
This isn’t so bad, he thinks. Maybe Hiruhiko really has made him lose him mind. He certainly made him lose his rationality when he goaded him into pouncing on him like that. Feral cats, he thinks, and that makes him think, Why not?
He kisses him back. He closes his eyes and he parts his lips and he feels the warmth of his tongue against his own. It’s weird, but it’s—it’s weirdly nice. The kiss lasts for two seconds, then three, then ten. After that, Hakuri stops counting. He kisses Hiruhiko and grunts at how tightly he’s grabbing his hair, and it’s only the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside that brings him back to earth.
Hakuri pulls back and leaps to his feet, losing a few strands of hair in the process because Hiruhiko didn’t let go of him quickly enough. He’s lying there on the ground, blinking up at him and grinning, when Kirino walks back into the room.
She takes one look at the situation and Hakuri has no idea if she suspects the truth, or if she just thinks that he knocked Hiruhiko – poor little Hiruhiko – on his ass because he’s a bully.
“Hakuri,” she says sternly. “What is this?”
Hiruhiko beams up at her. “We’re just having fun,” he says brightly. “Y’know, like you’re supposed to at school!”
Kirino nods at him and turns back to Hakuri. “Well?”
“Yeah,” Hakuri says, narrowing his eyes. He understands what Hiruhiko’s saying; that they’re having fun. It really is all a part of being at school, he supposes. He would bet that even Shiba got a kiss or two in his time. A smile tugs at his lips. “It’s like he said,” he continues. “We’re just having fun.”
Hakuri extends a hand and helps Hiruhiko to his feet, and they both sit back down, though Hiruhiko grabs his things and moves to the desk next to Hakuri’s. Kirino smiles at them both, approving.
Just having fun.
The thing is, well—it’s true. It was fun, kissing him. Hakuri’s almost eighteen and he’s never done that before, and he’d bet that Hiruhiko hasn’t, either.
If they’re here to catch up with the other kids their age out there, then Hakuri thinks that that definitely counts towards it.
That’s what he tells himself, anyway.
*
When Shiba collects him, he looks resigned when he asks Hakuri how his day was.
Hakuri touches his first two fingers to his lips. “Oh,” he says lightly. “It wasn’t so bad, after all.”
Shiba smiles and ruffles his hair. “Good kid,” he says. “Better than before?”
“Yep.”
“So it won’t be too bad for the rest of the time Chihiro’s away?”
“Nah,” Hakuri says. “It’ll be fine.”
And he grins up at him, thinking, If only he knew.