Second Glance - Chapter 1
It really seemed like he had no idea what he was doing. Kashii wasn’t generally scatterbrained, but he also wasn’t usually this nervous. Finally getting the knot right, Kashii tightened the tie, reaching for the grey jacket and slipping it around his shoulders. He stared back at his reflection in the mirror, fingers tangled in the knot of the necktie, gold eyes scrutinizing himself on a whole. At first glance, it seemed he was perfectly suited for the role of teacher.
A “teacher,” huh. He’d only decided to become a teacher on a whim, over a stupid argument he’d had with another teacher, so many years ago. If that man could see Kashii now… He grinned at his reflection, the copy giving a fanged smile in return. It wouldn’t be so bad. A roomful of teenagers was hardly a thing of terror. He was scarier than anyone in a junior class of kids would be.
Didn’t stop his nerves from being wracked all to hell. Kashii hated screwing up his jobs. This was a brand new long-term job with so many anomalies, who knows what could happen, just on a day-to-day basis. He could look like a teacher, but could he act like one? He sat at the edge of his bed, checking his case for the papers he needed to have. Handouts he’d made, class roster, course material. Lots of things he’d need to make copies of when he got to school. So much to think about. Slinging the case over his shoulder, he left, snagging his keys off the dining table.
“Watch the house for me, Cat.”
The Savannah mewed in response, tawny eyes watching her master leave into the dark morning. When the door closed behind him, she stretched, jaws opening in a wide, toothy yawn. Ear turning towards a squeak from the kitchen, she trotted off to examine the rodent, if he could be called that, that lived on the shelf above her food dishes. They regarded each other carefully. ‘I give him a week,’ the feline’s gaze seemed to say.‘A half a day, at most,’ squeaked the mole rat’s implied response.
It was, perhaps, a fifteen minute walk to the Academy grounds, using the shortcut he’d discovered by cutting through the park. Most people avoided Stanley Park for the fact it was dangerous during the dark hours, but then again, Kashii was not “most people.” Petty thieves or punks were hardly a cause for concern. It was the school coming into sight that made him nervous, really. He took a deep breath, and headed onto school grounds.
* * *
“There’s someone here.”
“Thank you, Nao. Let him in.”
The snowy-headed boy nodded, opening the door and allowing a small bluenette to enter. He dipped his head in greeting to the woman. Hotaru Aburame, headmistress of Marx Academy.
“Headmistress Hotaru.”
Crimson eyes scrutinized the male that entered her domain. He wasn’t as unpleasant as many of the men that entered her doors, at least.
“Have a seat, Namame-san.”
Kashii did as asked, and awaited instruction.
“I trust you remember what has been discussed from your previous meeting with me?” A nod. “Very good.” Hotaru picked up a paper, glancing over it for a moment and turning it for him to see. “This is a list of the teachers in your department. It would be wise to get to know them. Shimizu-san should be here soon to guide you.” She withdrew a map of the building as well as a ring with two keys on it. “You’d do well to study this as well. It would look bad if one of our own teachers were lost in the halls.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Hotaru sensed she’d be having troubles with this one in the future. “I’ve heard things about you, Kashii Namame. I will trust you will do nothing to stain my school’s reputation?” There was something frightening about the polite smile the woman gave him.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“Good to hear, Namame-san, or should I say ‘Sensei,’? Welcome to Marx Senior Academy.”
“Thank you,” he said with a nod, rising to leave.
“One more thing; be careful this semester. The teachers like to haze new arrivals. We’re still trying to scrub the blood of the last new teacher from the tiles.” She smiled at him again, head tilted slightly. “Have a nice day.”
Kashii left the room a bit skittishly. The hazing he’d received at boot camp probably far overshadowed what he’d meet here. The headmistress was no doubt joking about the blood. Hopefully. He stroked his throat absently, pushing those nasty memories out of mind. Exiting the main office, he found a man waiting for him. Wavy black hair, wearing a circumscribed triangular pendant… Makoto Shimizu. History teacher.
“Shimizu?”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. This way… Kashii, was it?”
“Aye,” he replied, gold eyes sweeping the halls as they walked. His old high school couldn’t compare with this one. He smirked idly to himself, recalling that crabby old teacher from West Side High. He ought to take a visit back there some time. A sort of ‘Look what I did’ reunion.
“You seem distracted, Kashii. Is something on your mind?”
The smaller male shook his head. “Nah. Just a bit nervous. Never taught anything but my cat before now.”
Makoto seemed amused by this information. “Think of it as teaching a room full of cats, then.”
Kashii frowned at the thought. “I don’t even like cats… teaching a room full of ‘em may not prove to be promising.”
Makoto raised a brow. “You’ll be fine. They only bite the first few weeks,” he laughed.
Such a… charming fellow. “Good to hear.”
“You saw some of the big rooms on the way up here, right? The first floor mainly holds the extracurricular courses. Cooking, music, P.E., etc. The cafeteria and library is there as well. Teachers can eat free.” Oh, that sounded nice. “Second floor here holds the academics. There are four main wings: Sciences, Languages, Mathematics, and English. Our classes are in the English department.”
Kashii glanced up at his guide. “Last I checked, neither social studies nor history were English subjects.”
The older man shrugged. “Word-of-mouth generalizations, really. There are different classes scattered in between but each title refers to the main cluster of subjects in that area.”
“Makes sense, then.”
They came to a stop at an empty classroom. Kashii peered through the windows inside. The walls were bare. Nothing particularly exceptional.
“This is your classroom.” Makoto pointed down the hall. “Two rooms down on the other side is my room. Feel free to come if you need something.”
Kashii nodded, waving him off with a lazy salute. “Will do.”
Withdrawing the keys he’d been provided, Kashii entered the classroom, flicking on the lights to inspect his new domain. There was nothing particularly exceptional about the room. Thirty small desks, thirty matching chairs. A supply closet in the back, a storage closet beside it. A couple of empty bookshelves, a counter-ledge on the side wall. A podium in front, a large blackboard behind it, and a nice big box of chalk. Nothing much, but it was as if Kashii had just gotten his own personal clubhouse.
He wandered through between the chairs, taking a glance at the clock above the board. Quarter after seven. School didn’t open until eight, and homeroom started at eight-thirty. He tapped the tops of the desks, wandering to the back of the room. The storage cabinet was empty as he’d expected; he’d need to fill that with his own supplies over time. The supply locker smelled of cleaner; it at least had some cleaning supplies for the room.
Turning back to the board, Kashii took a seat in one of the desks. High school felt so long ago, and those were days best not remembered. He’d been such a shitty student; not because he wasn’t smart, he’d always had good grades when he actually showed up to do the work, it was that he didn’t like rules. He still doesn’t, really, but at least he’s better about following them. His gaze moved up to the rolls over the board. A roll down map, and overhead there was a projector screen. Goodie. Reaching for those would be a fun experience during class. Thank god he wouldn’t need those today; he’d pick up some nylon rope on his way home to tie to the handles tomorrow.
Getting up, he walked over to his own desk, perching on the surface rather than sitting in the chair. He dug through his case, withdrawing the papers he needed. Some welcome guides he’d made for the course and for the overall school rules, class roster, gradebook, and blank seating chart. He looked over the roster, studying names as well as the photos that were included. Twenty-seven students, three desks would be left over. Whelp, first things first. Make a seating chart, then make copies of these handouts. It would keep himself busy, and keep away those first day jitters. He could only hope.
* * *
Ugh. Shi hatedthe reek of alcohol. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, as long as that man was home, it smelled of alcohol. She rubbed her eyes, wrinkling her nose at the scent, and swung her legs out of bed. First day of school. She couldn’t be more overjoyed. No, really. With a sigh, she pulled away the warm blankets and stepped into the nippy morning. At least school meant she could get breakfast at the cafeteria. Scholarships students had the privileges of free meals. Probably because the school knew those students were too dirt-poor to actually afford paying for the meals.
Ensuring that man wasn’t in the way between her room and the bathroom, Shi walked softly between the rooms, closing the door quietly behind her. Cranking on the water nozzle, she stepped in after a few minutes of fussing, the hot water easing away the chill. At least the water was warm. Bastard hardly ever payed the bills; the days had been unusually chilly this time of year.
The girl ran her fingers through her hair under the spray, a long, midnight shade of navy. Violet eyes tried to avoid looking at the grimy tile of the shower walls; at least there was a shower for her to bathe in. Slender fingers felt along the contours of her body. She could feel her ribs, thin as ever, spindly arms and legs. Years of eating improperly showed its mark on Shizuka Adachi’s frame, like the scars that decorated her skin from the times she’d spent on the street. Shi could smell the alcohol through the stale scent of the soap. Really, she should be grateful she had a place to call ‘home.’ Frankly, she’d rather go back to the street some nights.
Shi ran a brush through her hair when she finished towel-drying, watching her reflection. Nothing seemingly remarkable, in her opinion. She wasn’t pretty, at least, she didn’t think she was. Just a ratty girl that people liked to have their way with. With a sigh, she wrapped herself in a towel, opening the door. A solid, resounding snore rang through the house. A far better sound than his voice, at least. She moved back to her room quickly, digging through her belongings to find the uniform. Shi wasn’t particularly fond of skirts, but the uniform did a good job of hiding her figure.
She brushed the pleats flat once it was on, buttoning the jacket closed. Uniforms were ridiculous. Public schools knew what they were doing, allowing casual dress daily. Private schools enjoyed making you feel stiff and uncomfortable. She removed the brass wolf pin from her lapel, replacing it with the silver pin that marked her as being in Junior year. At first glance, she at least looked like a dutiful student.
Shi collected her belongings into her bag. Rather than using the bag that was issued, she used her ratty old backpack from long ago, filled with everything she considered valuable. There wasn’t a chance she’d lose her things; they needed to stay with her at all times. She sighed again as she put her notebook into the bag. Her homeroom teacher had to leave at the end of the year last year for maternity purposes, and chose not to come back. A fresh-off-the-press teacher was taking her place. Shi did not like being a guinea pig. Why couldn’t they test him out on some other class? It took her long enough to learn to tolerate the old teacher, and she’d be seeing this nobody man three times a day. Finally satisfied with herself, Shi headed out of the apartment, the reek of alcohol replaced with the stale scent of burned nicotine. Cigarettes didn’t smell much better.
“Oh, is it that time of year already? That skirt looks adorable on you, as always.”
Oh, as if her morning could get any better. “Fuck off, dickhead.”
“Sharp-tongued as ever.”
“People aren’t generally known to speak kindly to weasels.”
Shi slapped his hand away when he reached towards her, moving by him quickly to go down the enclosed stairwell. Shinji Aku, residential pervert who’s been after her for years. Likes to make himself unavoidable at best. One of these days, Shi would castrate him. She’d make sure of it. One day, surely.
The girl was thankful, at least, the school was nearby. That was one of the only perks that came with living with her current foster fuckface. She clutched the jackknife she had placed in her jacket pocket, ready to pull it out at a moment’s notice should someone decide it was a good idea to ambush her. Again. Naturally, the peace was not meant to last, for exactly that happened.
“Look what the cat dragged in.”
Shi’s glare raised to meet the hazel-green eyes of a brick shit house that always seemed to have a bone to pick with her, Devon Miller. ‘What does he want now...’ Couldn’t even make it through the school gate without things starting. Usual. But seriously, it was the first day of school. Did this boy make a point of waiting for her just for this?
“Leave me alone, Shithead.”
“That’s no way to speak to your master.”
“I am not a pet, and you are not my master.”
She pushed to move passed him, but he grabbed her by the back of her collar.
“I ain’t done talking to you.”
“Well I am.”
Her small fist lashed out as she twisted, landing a strong blow right into his elbow. Devon automatically let go, jolts of electricity going through his arm. She didn’t get a chance to flee, however, as the larger boy knocked her to the ground. He hovered over her, clearly enraged.
“You—”
She spat in his face.
“Fuck off.”
“Bitch!”
The sound of a fist colliding with flesh could be heard across the schoolyard. A pair of scarlet eyes watched the progression from a window above. He pointed out, looking back to his “mother.”
“They’re at it again, mistress.”
Hotaru didn’t even look up.
“Adachi and Miller again?”
“Yes. Should I stop them?”
“If you could.”
She flipped a paper, writing down more notes.
Nao bowed. “As you wish.”
Devon had Shi by the hair, and Shi was pressed over him, teeth lodged into his forearm and drawing blood. Regardless of how hard he pulled, if he got her head away it would come with the chunk of flesh between her teeth. Neither teen noticed a petite male walking toward them. With a swift kick, the flat of his shoe contacted the back of Shi’s head, and there was a resounding crack as her skull collided with Devon’s. He crouched by their heads as they recovered from the light show.
“Headmistress Hotaru asks that you do not cause a scene right at the school gates.”
Devon knew better to swing at this boy, despite his personal opinions. The son of the headmistress was a no kill zone. Touching the child would result in a swift death, he was positive of it. He’d have enough personal experiences with the Aburame to easily come to that conclusion. He shoved the girl off of him as the school bell rang.
“We’ll continue this another time, rat.”
Shi sat up, glaring at the snowy-haired boy who’d interfered. She shared no such sentiments as Devon did, and rose, taking a swing at Aburame. Despite his size, Nao caught her wrist easily, pulled her forward, then used a leg to sweep her off her feet, knocking her flat on her back again. She coughed, wind knocked out, and glowered at him.
“It would be advisable for you to go to class now.”
* * *
Kashii sat at the top of his desk, one shoe up on the edge, watching as his students filed in, ticking off their names in his head, glancing at the roster in his hand as he did so, ensuring he knew at least some of the faces. There was a lot of chatter, and a lot of glances his way. He tugged idly at the sleeve of the grey suit jacket, nodding his head in recognition to those who looked at him. Introductions could wait until all students were present. Or at least most of them, anyway. He switched out the roster for an attendance sheet when the bell rang.
Kashii clapped his hands to bring attention to himself. The students quieted for the first time, looking up from the desks they had chosen.
“Good morning!” he said, a warm smile on his face. “Everyone come to the front. I’ll seat you and take attendance.”
There was an aura of annoyance. A lot of students didn’t like assigned seating. Well, they could sit wherever the fuck they liked next semester. This semester was about him learning everyone’s names and faces. He scribbled on the top of the page to ensure his pen was writing, and started calling off names.
“Adachi?”
Silence. He glanced up at the mass of students cluttered at the front of the class.
“Adaachii?”
Someone spoke up.
“She’s not here.”
“I’d be surprised if she actually showed up…” said someone else.
“Probably fighting again,” came another voice.
Kashii raised a brow and said nothing, scratching an ‘X’ next to her name.
“Greberak?”
“Here! Call me Katie~”
A spunky girl appeared to the front of the mob. He looked her up and down momentarily, then pointed to the end of the row on the right.
“Second to last seat, Katie.”
“Okay!”
She moved to her assigned seat, and he put a checkmark by her name.
“Hibari?”
“Which one?” came two simultaneous voices.
Kashii looked up to see the two boys who looked irritated with each other. They looked absolutely nothing like each other. Had he been wrong in guessing they were brothers? Cousins, maybe? At least he knew they were both there, and he checked both names, pointing to Katie.
“Daniel in front of Katie, Kyoya in front of him.”
This continued in a zigzag pattern until there were only three empty seats in the last column of desks, at the front.
“Does anyone know where Adachi and Miller are?”
As if on cue, a beefy boy with sandy hair and a bruised forehead hunkered into the room without even so much as a ‘sorry for being late’ and plopped himself down into the closest desk.
“Devon Miller?”
“The hell do you want, Teach?”
The boy’s hazel eyes sized up his new teacher, and a smirk crossed his features. This little chickenshit was the new teacher? This would be an easy semester. He leaned back in his chair. Kashii pointed to the empty seat near the middle of the room with his pen.
“Your seat is there, Miller.”
“I’m fine right here.”
Kashii moved up to where the boy sat, the clipboard tapping against the desk as he put his hands down, and he repeated himself.
“Your seat is there.”
Already with the troublesome students. Frankly it didn’t matter so much, the boy was recognizable from a mile away. Seemed to have authority problems, and Kashii smiled at that thought. Reminded him of himself at that age. But Kashiiwas the authority now. Devon’s hand fisted itself into the collar of Kashii’s shirt at the sheer insolence, pulling him forward.
“I don’t need some chickenshit teacher telling me what to do. Get your ass to the front and do what you’re paid to do.”
There were hushed whispers, many aimed at Kashii’s personal safety. Kashii allowed himself to be pulled, smile never wavering.
“Don’t make me ask again, Miller.”
Already rubbed the wrong way, Devon stood, desk shoved away, and pulled his arm back to lay a heavy blow right between Kashii’s golden eyes. His arm was deflected before it had a chance to connect, and Kashii twisted it hard, turning the boy around. He kicked the back of Devon’s legs, put him on his knees facing backward, and hiked the twisted arm upward.
“The fuck?!” came the startled yelp.
“Your ‘chickenshit teacher’ asks you to go to your seat, Devon.”
The smile never left when he let go of the arm, and the larger male stood and backed off, muttering obscenities and retreating to his proper seat. Kashii moved back to the front, scratching off the ‘X’ and replacing with a checkmark. He glanced around at the sea of faces; most of the eyes were on him, many amused and impressed at Devon being put into his place.
“Adachi is the only one we’re missing then?”
A smug look on Devon’s face was the only answer in the room.
“Alright then let’s—”
Kashii paused, seeing a small girl enter the room, clearly disheveled, with the same mark on her forehead as Miller, hidden under her bangs.
“Adachi?”
“Present.”
She took residence in the corner seat at the back. Kashii didn’t say anything; itwas her seat. He scratched the ‘X’ off and checked her name too. Everyone was here, and he’d let the tardiness slide for today. Tossing the clipboard onto the desk he moved behind the podium and grabbed a stick of chalk, turning to write his name on the board, first in English, then in Japanese. Many of the people in this area were of Japanese and Asian descent; at least half of the students can read it.
“My name is Kashii Namame.”
A girl named Hanabi Kashi glowered up at her new sensei. How dare he share her name? Kashii tapped the board.
“You can call me Mr. Namame or Namame-sensei.” He tapped to the Japanese, explaining what his name translated to. Thank you mother for the play on names. “Or if you read like this, you can call me ‘Mr. Charming’.”
A broad grin at his students, who looked at him skeptically. Even with the first-day jitters, he still held his head high and confidently.
</p> “Welcome, my students, to class 2-B.”