“Perhaps it would be.” Shuu agrees with a light chuckle as he moves to sit at his desk, “Though I believe the school frowns upon that sort of action.” It wasn’t exactly that he allowedthe students to leave without cleaning up, it was more that as soon as the end of period bell rang every student tended to run out of his classroom as if their lives depended on it, whether their work stations were clean or not. If it had been just one or two students he could’ve enforced some punishment as a deterrent, but when it was the entire class there wasn’t much even he could do to stop them.
Not that it really matters. Cleaning is annoying, but he has quite a bit of experience at dealing with messes. It is convenient to be able to foist the task onto someone else though. Perhaps he should give out detentions more often, then he’d never have to clean the classroom again! Yes, this sounds like an excellent plan.
Immersing himself in paperwork, Shuu begins ignoring Mitsunari. He can hear the boy talking and occasionally snarling or hissing, but he pays it no mind. As long as he’s working, Shuu doesn’t really care what he says, nor does he care if a few of the students’ belongings disappear as well. It’s their own fault for not cleaning up after themselves.
He sputtered and grumbled about like an old buzzard, for Mitsunari was fond of grouching and complaining half to himself. He took his rage out on the desks with a vengeance. His hands drew out each desk’s innards (coupled with a leer on the teenager’s face) and scooped them into the trash. Feathers abruptly spewed out of one desk. Groping around, he felt a squish and pulled out a sandwich bag, filled with a moldy sandwich that looked like it’d been there since Christmas. How revolting. Mitsunari glared at the teacher partially behind the sandwich bag before he pointedly dropped it in the garbage. The next desk had a book with an actual lock of hair for a bookmark
Not frizz, not leftover hair, but an actually cut piece of someone’s hair. Mitsunari stared at the silky black threads lying plaintively on the desktop. “Are you serious?” he growled, plucking the hairpiece up and throwing it and its book into the garbage bag. A Song of Ice and Fire wasn’t supposed to look so innocent sitting on top of the trash. He sneered at it before wrenching up the drawstrings tightly. After a quick wipe down of the tabletops and the deposit of blackened paper towels, he hauled the full trash bag to the teacher’s desk.
“There.” He stalked past the lab tables with hackles raised, yanking up the spray bottles and plucking off rubber gloves. Discourteously, he tossed the gloves where he’d found them. The bottle received much of the same treatment, coupled with a metal clank as the door shut. Or tried to shut, rather. Due to his rough handling of doors, an unknown object had dropped. Something caught on the door from the inside. A satin triangle of something was peeking out of the supply cabinet. Mitsunari grabbed the handle and tugged on it, growling and wrenching. Fuming, he wheeled about, pointing in fury and silently demanding the teacher’s assistance.
Mitsunari was not one to ask for help, but given that he’d just gotten a detention for improper door handling, his idea of dealing with the cabinet would likely land him another (and he wasn’t eager for that).
Shuu mentally makes note of the name, and continues to lead the way placidly, not at all bothered by the slow pace. It suits him just fine, actually. He doesn’t even notice the odd looks they’re getting- he’s become so accustomed to attracting strange or curious glances that they simply don’t register any longer.
When they reach the biology lab at last, Shuu wastes no time pulling the key out of a pocket in his coat and unlocking the door. The room truly is quite messy. If only the janitorial staff weren’t so distrustful and nosy, he might have asked them to take care of it.
“As you can see, the room is still quite disorderly from my last class,” Shuu replies as he walks in, moving towards his desk at the front of the room. “There are cleaning supplies in the cabinet over there.” He gestures towards a set of cabinets in one corner of the room.
The gunmetal boy shifted aside, biting the inside of his cheek as the doctor opened up the lab. His nose wrinkled with the pungent scent of chemicals (from dissecting, perhaps, and also fertilizer for the plant experiments). It stung at first, but he shook his head, grunting and entering with the same gait as a flamingo. Mitsunari clearly was uncomfortable (and annoyed with the situation). However, now that it was clear he wouldn’t be getting out of it, he could only do his best and inform Hanbei of his transgressions.
“You allow your students to leave class without cleaning up? Perhaps my discipline of door bashing is better wasted on their skulls,” he commented scathingly. With a roll of his shoulders, like a preening heron, Mitsunari tugged his backpack off and placed it on a chair. His face turned finicky as he glanced around. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes darkened, and the silver-haired perfectionist stalked to the cabinets dictated to be his cash cow of supplies. His fingers wrenched the metal doors open. Windex. Clorox. That 409 stuff. Some other materials were in opaque spray bottles without labels, and he wasn’t about to start sniffing anything to determine what things were.
Grimacing, Mitsunari plucked paper towels from the top cabinet, Clorox from the middle, and a spray bottle from the bottom he determined to be empty after a quick shake. For now, they went by the deep sinks, waiting for their new master while he retrieved black trash bags. Mitsunari was an expert at elimination whether they were threats or filthiness. He filled the spray bottle half and half with water and bleach. Since they were available, he plucked yellow gloves, all too aware that he looked incredibly farcical.
“I will be throwing everything away. If my classmates”—he loathed to think of them as that, as if they were comrades, buddies, equals? Peh!—“need anything, they can get it themselves.” He announced it rhetorically, squirting the clean mix on the tabletop. Reaching down, Mitsunari scowled and yanked out everything inside the cubbie hole portion. A small notebook, papers, pencils, and a rotten orange splatted onto the ground. The gagging came out as a snarl instead. Hissing, he bent and shoved everything into the trash bin.
To all appearances, Shuu was ignoring the boy’s blatant fury. He walked past him with only a faint nod to encourage him to follow. It was really quite intriguing that someone with so much anger in their personality would be so dedicated to the rules. Shuu found himself tempted to see just how far he could push the boy before his temper overruled his sense of duty.
“I’ll need your name,” He says once they’re on their way down the halls, heading for the biology lab. “So that I can write up the detention slip properly.” He’s fairly certain he keeps a packet of the slips in his desk somewhere, though normally he doesn’t pay enough attention to students to discipline them.
He strode beside Dr. Iwamine at an automaton’s pace. His steps were sharp, fists balled by his side as he was marched to the science wing of the campus. “Surname: Ishida. First name: Mitsunari,” the silveret exhaled.
The period bell rang out obnoxiously. Any students left in the hallways ran hastily to their classrooms. The few remainers wandering about were either staff or student helpers. They weren’t as bold with their chatter, but they certainly gave Shuu and Mitsunari odd looks, wondering what strings of fate brought those two together.
Incorrigible with small talk, Mitsunari merely stood in front of the biology lab door. “What will I be doing?” he finally asked. Although once he glanced through the glass, he could venture a guess. Cleaning. The premier of the Toyotomi would be cleaning?
And why did it smell faintly like bird poop?
“Well, I suppose you’ll just have to take the detention then.” Shuu replied casually, he might have been offended by the student’s obvious fury if he hadn’t been so amused by it. Normally the reactions he gets are fear, confusion, shock- along those lines. This kind of restrained but still obvious anger is… interesting.
“I was joking, anyway,” He adds almost as if it’s an afterthought, “No responsible teacher would do such a thing.”
When he was two feet away, the doctor’s words halted him like a barricade in the road. His feet magnetized to the floor, and his spine jolted to attention. Lips worked in frustration. Mitsunari whipped around with cold eyes directed at Dr. Iwamine.
“Fine,” he stated sharply. Adjusting his backpack strap, the lithe student motioned almost sarcastically at the teacher. “Lead the way.” If he was to serve this detention, then he’d do it promptly and vigilantly so this man had no extra ways to spite him. Mitsunari stared wordlessly as he reentered the building. He stared pointedly at the other until he passed him. Iwamine’s remarks that it was a joke went unresponded. He simply waited.
It’s true he was unharmed, though his cheek still twinged a little where the door had hit it and his leg was going to be sore for another hour at least. Nothing he wasn’t accustomed to, but still annoying.
“Are you arguing with a teacher?” Shuu raised an eyebrow, smile still in place.
“Very well, if it’s such an inconvenience to you then I will allow you to get out of the detention in exchange for one of your kidneys.” He states in a perfectly even tone. It is completely impossible to tell how serious he is.
His face twisted up as if he’d been melted like plastic in a fire.
“No,” he snarled in a low growl, then repeated himself after a hiss of breath. “No, sir.”
Follow your lords’ commands, he reminded himself. Exhaling, Mitsunari straightened to attention. While the doctor’s comment may have elicited fear or nervous laughter from a student, Mitsunari met the man’s eyes. Serious? Not serious? The man had no right to take kidneys, but there was a dangerous glint behind those spectacles, a danger that told Mitsunari the doctor just might. He lifted up his jaw soberly.
“Any part of my body is not yours to take. All that I am belongs to Hideyoshi,” he replied solemnly. “Now then, doctor, may I continue my duties as a student of this school?” As insufferable as it is. Without waiting for his answer, Mitsunari pointedly went through the other door to put some distance between him and the teacher. To think that he’d almost taken AP Biology instead of Anatomy this year… No, he would not fear this man. He feared nothing.
[ And here we had Kaito, just minding his own business That is, until one of the DOORS SLAMMED OPEN RIGHT ON HIM. ] HUH— [ The impact shook him off of his balance and he hit a wall. His head is in excruciating pain right now. As is the rest of his body. He’s sitting down and holding his head in his hands, not bothering to look at who hit him. Of course, this is JUST the thing that would happen to him. ]
Y-you could’ve…. at least said sorry!!
[ As he spoke, he stuttered a bit and had a few pauses. He sounds like he’s gonna cry. But he isn’t, trust me. Holy shit how is this guy a teacher? At least have some dignity, Kaito! ]
Mitsunari flicked up narrowed hazel eyes, squeezing them shut at first until he was accustomed to the outdoor light. His wiry fingers were firmly pressed against the door as he stepped out, barely missing brown trousers and white and blue…what sort of clothes were those anyway? Mitsunari wrinkled his nose at such a flamboyant person, whining and blubbering by the wall.
“Generally one does not loiter in front of doors when classes are released,” he snarled. Stuttering at him? Sniffling even? Mitsunari grimaced as if he’s been confronted by an injured stray puppy. With the blunet’s dramatics, a crowd was staring to stare and gape, although with the bystander effect, most just moved along thinking the same thing Mitsunari was: that the guy was a student and he’d get over it easily enough if he wanted to get to his next class on time.
Mitsunari hated being put on display and he curled his fingers, attempting to yank the other up by the armpit. “Up.” He shoved open the door fully this time. “Nurse’s office is in the center. Go if you need it, but stop blubbering.” Without realizing Kaito was a teacher, Mitsunari treated him with the same cutthroat attitude as he did his classmates.
It’s obvious the boy is struggling to hold his temper now that he’s recognized the person he’s dealing with is a teacher. Shuu finds his bitter reluctance mildly amusing. Easing his weight back onto his feet in a testing manner, he finds he has his balance again and lets go of the door in favor of crossing his arms disapprovingly.
“Considering you nearly injured someone in the process, I think a single detention wouldn’t be an extreme reaction,” Shuu muses, though his tone betrays his waning interest.
It occurs to him suddenly that he still has a lot of clean up to do from his last class, and this would be a prime opportunity to force someone else to do it. Interest restored, he gives a sharp nod and levels a thin, chilly smile at the student whose name he doesn’t even know. There isn’t anything familiar about him, but then Shuu rarely pays any mind to most of the students here anyway so that doesn’t really mean much. “Yes, I think it would be quite suitable, actually.”
His lips twisted, and he chewed his tongue, looking up at the doctor. “You appear to be unharmed,” Mitsunari replied bluntly. He flicked his gaze from top to bottom, accessing no damage and thus taking a step past Dr. Iwamine. The man’s chilly smile sent a jolt down his spine. He stiffened at the randomly plucked request.
“You cannot be serious.”
Mitsunari wheeled on the doctor.
“Sir, I have a free period that I wished to use for my Literary Analysis class. I do not think this warrants a detention.” His voice belonged to someone who despised such trifling measures and was accustomed to automatic deference. However, the Biology teacher was not someone who could be shooed away or beaten into submission. Glaring at the teacher as if this was all a huge inconvenience, Mitsunari bit his lower lip and sullenly stared at the bespectacled man. If this was a student, none of this would be happening. He gazed around at the other students around them, hissing at the ones gawking so that they rushed along, clinging to their books and bags.
Unprepared for the door he was approaching to swing open so violently, Shuu is knocked back by the force of the blow. His weak right knee buckles and he curses his luck as he’s forced to latch onto the door handle to keep from falling down in a highly undignified manner. Holding himself steady against the handle with his left hand, he gently rubs his cheek where the door struck him, and narrows his eyes dangerously at the impudent student.
“I was.” He says flatly, “You would do well to remember that there is a proper way to open a door, and that isn’t it.”
Eyes flashed like a beast caught unaware, and Mitsunari tensed with hackles raised and muscles taut. The sun blinded him to his victim. Squeezing them shut, then slowly opening them, the silveret inhaled sharply at the man behind the door. The Biology teacher. Damn it all. A vicious retort coiled on his tongue only to promptly die. Amongst the Toyotomi Foundation’s wards, Mitsunari answered to no one but Hanbei-sama and Hideyoshi-sama. Optionally, to Gyobu. Yet now that he took classes, he was under strict orders to treat teachers with the same respect as the two lords. Mitsunari swallowed his tongue. The bitter lash to his pride caused him to draw back at Dr. Iwamine’s glare.
“My…my apologies,” Mitsunari replied with no hidden reluctance. Nevertheless, he deferred to the brunet doctor. He was a prodigy, not a delinquent, so all the other scathing notes fell away. “Surely I won’t get a detention for failing to open doors accordingly.” Oh great. Would the rumored mad scientist of Staff Dorm B-1 drag him off to do inane activities during his free period?
“Remember, everyone, your homework is due tomorrow. I don’t tolerate late work,” called out the teacher.
The bell honked for class’ dismissal, and Mitsunari sighed, shoving his Anatomy textbook and notebooks into his messenger bag. Rubbing his face, he tugged up his bag onto one shoulder, shoving his hands in his pockets as became one with the sea. Students were messily tumbling out of hallways to go back into other classrooms. Mitsunari had a free period and planned to use it outside to reread the assigned pages in Literary Analysis. “Why must I read this detestable thing anyway?” he grumbled. Reaching into his pack, Mitsunari pulled it out. War and Peace. Lord Hanbei might appreciate a book like this. Whatever.
At the end of the double doors, he shoved one open suddenly, resounding with a thunk against something else. Or rather, someone else. Mitsunari looked through the doorway and scowled. “Watch where you’re going next time.”
open: for anyone.
ooc notes: I’m starting out with small posts. Mitsunari’s just being his usual grump self so I threw this starter out.