Chapter Text
The early bird catches the worm. Or so the saying went.
It explained why Haruka had built a routine around the saying from as young as eleven, making a conscious habit of getting up at the ass crack of dawn and starting each morning with a tepid bath (just how he preferred it) and then following it with a home-cooked breakfast of his choice; his choice often being a chargrilled steak of mackerel, some rice and a glass of water. Very traditional.
His morning glass of water, however, had evolved into coffee at some point during his career as an Art teacher. He was rarely not seen nursing a mug or flask of coffee, especially after late nights in the Art studio, whether by himself or with his hardworking students. Coffee had become somewhat of a staple for him following those long, late nights.
Today was no exception.
Haruka walked down the corridor, holding the sage green thermos flask his best friend had gifted him (with the most bitter coffee he could find in it) in one hand and his phone in the other, tapping away senselessly on the screen.
I’m on the way. My apologies.
The book bag hanging from his shoulder felt heavier than it usually would’ve been—probably because of all the extra art supplies he’d had to pack in it—and for that reason, he could not give a rat’s arse about how he was so extremely late for the morning staff meeting, pacing himself leisurely. He was only late because he’d decided to drop by the supply room first thing in the morning. Besides, he was almost a hundred-percent certain it hadn’t officially started anyway; Principal Fujiwara was notorious for being late to staff meetings himself after all.
Haruka yanked the door to the boardroom open and stepped inside, immediately swarmed by some of the other teachers as he sought refuge in the seat furthest in the room, in the corner next to Ono-sensei, class 3A’s homeroom teacher.
“My, my, Nanase-sensei, you’re finally here!” Ono-sensei greeted, swiveling in her chair to smile at him with a smile so bright it competed only with the sun. Her long, brown ponytail swished from side-to-side, threatening to take a dip in Haruka’s coffee. “Did you hear? Did you hear? The new Physical Ed teacher will be coming today!”
“Ho-oh, Ono-sensei,” piped in yet another female teacher—Kayano-sensei, this time—plopping herself into the chair adjacent to theirs, “you’re awfully excited about the new sub.”
Ono-sensei tilted her head and tapped her finger against her chin, grinning and sighing wistfully (or rather, very, very dramatically). “Oh, Kayano-sensei, it’s been a long time since we’ve had something nice to look at in the staff room, don’t you think? I mean, apart from you, Nanase-sensei. You’re decent. But anyway, aren’t Physical Ed teachers known for being kinda… y’know?”
“Hot?” Haruka said disinterestedly, sipping on his morning brew.
The ladies exchanged glances before turning to Haruka like he’d dropped some sort of godly revelation on them. Both Kayano-sensei and Ono-sensei were patting each other’s laps like overexcited school girls.
“Yes, exactly! Hot!” Ono-sensei exclaimed, practically wriggling in her seat. Haruka thought it seemed a little desperate. “Oh, forgive me for getting so excited, Nanase-sensei, but every time I look up from my desk and see Nakamura-sensei, I die a little inside.”
From across the room, an older man in a dark blue dress shirt buttoned up until the collar with salt-and-pepper hair—Nakamura-sensei—cleared his throat and frowned bitterly at Ono-sensei. “Oi! I’m not so bad, am I, Ono-sensei?”
Ono-sensei hardly even deigned him with a reply. Ouch.
The room of nearly forty-something teachers was filled with excited chatter despite it being a rather grey Monday morning, much to the bane of Haruka’s existence. He just wanted to get this meeting over and done with so he could greet his students on the way to his classroom and prepare for his lessons. He had so much to do. Thank goodness all of his lessons for the day were scheduled for the afternoon, but still…
Just then, the door to the boardroom swung open and in walked the man of the hour, Principal Fujiwara, in his crisp forest green suit and funky necktie, grinning enough for the whole of Japan. The teachers greeted him politely, some dedicated enough to grace the man with a low bow while others (namely Haruka) could only bother with a quiet good morning, kocho-sensei and the subtlest of nods.
Principal Fujiwara made his way to the front of the large, oval table in the center of the room, plugging the charger of his laptop into a power source and then connecting the laptop to the LCD projector. One of the teachers near the front of the room quickly rolled a chair towards him, inviting him to sit comfortably before dimming the lights, much to Principal Fujiwara’s approval.
A bright, colorful slideshow presentation with the words GOOD MORNING, TEACHERS OF GOSHO HIGH SCHOOL! was projected onto the large, wall-mounted screen at the front of the room, blinding all of them. Haruka squinted at the small GIF of a man in a top hat dancing in the corner of the screen, rolling his eyes at one of Principal Fujiwara’s many attempts at making his draggy presentations fun.
“Alright, good morning, everyone!” Principal Fujiwara began. “I hope you all had a brilliant weekend! Thank you for turning up bright and early for today’s staff meeting. Can’t say I don’t appreciate it.” He reached his hand out and guided his cursor towards the side of his screen, clicking an arrow. Another equally obnoxiously colourful slide unfolded over the first one, filled with information on today’s agenda.
Haruka sipped his coffee as quietly as he could, losing interest already. He had never been the world’s most attentive student in high school himself, let alone teacher. Old habits die hard.
Principal Fujiwara quickly skimmed through the objectives of today’s meeting, engaging the teachers with his light-hearted banter and occasionally serious comments as he went along.
Alright, fine, he might have been tacky, but Haruka could appreciate his knack for keeping the audience entertained with his borderline excessive interactions. He wasn’t feeling as bored as he had been at the very beginning at least. No need for any maladaptive daydreaming today.
“Right! So first thing’s first,” Principal Fujiwara said, clapping his hands together. “I recall informing everyone in last week’s meeting that we have a special guest today, or rather, a guest for at least the next four months.”
Haruka’s eyes were laser-focused on the principal, but he could practically hear Ono-sensei’s chair rattling from how much she was vibrating in her seat. She must have really meant it when she’d said she was looking out for new eye candy or whatever.
He took another sip from his bitter coffee, hoping it fed his dark soul.
Principal Fujiwara promptly got up from his seat, walking over to the door with a friendly smile plastered across his wrinkled face. He pushed the door open, speaking softly to someone standing beyond everyone else’s view. All the other teachers craned their necks, trying to get a glimpse of their special guest (because apparently, teachers were not well-known for being patient). The room had, once again, erupted in excited chatter, though softer this time. Both the men and women alike were muttering amongst themselves, making guesses at what the new teacher might look or be like. It seemed only Haruka had little to no sense of curiosity when it came to the new hire. Figures.
“Alright, folks, as you all know, Agawa-sensei has had to go on paternity leave because his wife has just given birth, so from today, we have with us our new, substitute PE teacher. He will also be a stand-in for Agawa-sensei as the teacher-in-charge of the swim team.”
Principal Fujiwara turned to face the mystery guest, uttering something so low no one could make out what he was saying, before stepping aside as if to make room for the new sub to make a dramatic entrance..
…which he did not.
Yet.
Within seconds, the entire boardroom went silent. It felt to Haruka like everyone was waiting with bated breaths, anticipating the arrival of their new slave—er, um—colleague. Haruka himself could not have cared any less than a tree losing a leaf in autumn, really. He wrapped his hands around his lukewarm flask and tapped his fingers impatiently, stealing a glance at the wall clock every now and then to gauge how much time he’d have left to set up his classroom for the day. Tick, tock. Time was money after all.
“Without further ado, I would like us all to welcome our new substitute teacher, Matsuoka-sensei, aboard the Gosho High School board of teachers! Matsuoka-sensei, please.”
Principal Fujiwara turned, making a gesture with his arm as if to guide the new sub into the room.
It felt like time had been reduced to a speed of 0.5 at most with how everything seemed to move in slow-motion.
First, the room saw a shoe. A rather stylish and athletic red, black and white shoe.
Then, the leg of a pair of black track pants, flapping in the wind like its owner was walking away from an explosion. Or something. Something dramatic.
How was it all happening so slowly and so quickly at the same time?
Then,
“Good morning, everyone. My name is Matsuoka Rin,” said the smoothest, most unintentionally sultry voice the boardroom had ever heard in its likely fifty-six or so years of history, coming from the mouth of a rather tall, broadly-shouldered hunk of a man dressed from head to toe in black and grey (apart from his stylish shoes).
He had wine red hair, layered and cropped in a way that made him look like a damn supermodel, and he wore a jacket that matched his athleisure track pants, zipped only up half of his chest, revealing a tight grey compression shirt that showed just a smidge of the man’s clearly toned chest.
And, dear lord, he had a jawline carved by the gods.
Ono-sensei sighed.
Haruka nearly dropped his flask.
“But please call me Matsuoka-sensei,” said Matsuoka, breaking into a grin that gave Principal Fujiwara’s (and nearly every teacher in the room’s) a run for its money. He carded his fingers through his hair, slicking his fringe back and leaving just the littlest of strands mussed artfully across his handsome forehead. “If I let you call me Rin, you might end up mistaking me for a girl which I am, clearly, very much not.”
He snorted, slipping his hands into the pockets of his track pants.
Very, very slowly, the room erupted into a rather delighted (and very amused) applause, accompanied by laughter in some corners of the room and excited squeals in some others. Haruka had, for the most part, been darting his eyes between his flask, Matsuoka-sensei and the very discomfiting manner in which Ono-sensei had taken to trembling in her seat.
Not in fear though, obviously.
“So Matsuoka-sensei, tell us a little about yourself.” Principal Fujiwara goaded, giving Matsuoka an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
Matsuoka hummed, looking up at the ceiling as if in deep thought. His body swayed as he rocked on his heels, wondering what secrets he’d feel comfortable divulging to an audience of nearly fifty.
Haruka eyed him suspiciously.
“Hm, well, just saying this for fun—not to brag or anything, but—”
Haruka narrowed his eyes.
“—I used to be on the Olympic swimming team. Australia though, not Japan.”
A collective gasp, followed by scattered oohs and aahs tore through the crowd, as if they were watching some sort of magic show. Principal Fujiwara seemed to nod in approval, appearing impressed by Matsuoka’s little fun fact. A hand shot up from amongst the crowd.
“Matsuoka-sensei! Matsuoka-sensei! Are you Australian?”
Matsuoka shook his head, smiling. “No, I’m full Japanese, but I used to train on the Australian team. I studied there for a bit in my youth, but I’m way past my prime now at the ripe age of twenty-nine.”
Someone yelled, “Twenty-nine is still young!” while another shouted, “Hey! You and Nanase-sensei are the same age!”
Haruka wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole so he could die.
Matsuoka folded his arms and squinted as if looking for Nanase-sensei. Haruka sank into his seat.
“Alright, alright, settle down, everyone!” Principal Fujiwara laughed, gesturing with his hands for everyone to calm down. He turned to Matsuoka, beaming. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to get to know Matsuoka-sensei since he’ll be here for the next four months, won’t you, sensei?”
“Of course,” Matsuoka smiled, winking at him (and accidentally reducing Ono-sensei to dust). “Thank you for welcoming me, everyone. I’ll definitely work hard as your new substitute PE teacher.”
“Great!” Principal Fujiwara exclaimed, giving him an encouraging slap on the back. Then he turned to address the rest of the audience, raising a brow. “I expect everyone to make Matsuoka-sensei’s stay here as pleasant as possible, y’hear? Now, as for table mates…” He scanned the room, frowning as he tried to recall where everyone’s designated seats in the staff room were. “Ah. Nanase-sensei, you have an empty seat next to your desk, am I right?”
Haruka swallowed. He was gripping onto his flask so tightly his knuckles had turned ash-white, thinking of all the art supplies he’d have to move from the empty desk next to his.
“Yes, kocho-sensei.” He responded begrudgingly. He tried his very best to ignore how Ono-sensei herself had begun white-knuckling the cushion of her seat next to him, opting to squint—or rather, glare—at Matsuoka instead.
Principal Fujiwara clapped his hands. “Great!” He turned to Matsuoka looking very pleased before pointing directly at Haruka, who was seated diagonally across from them. “Matsuoka-sensei, allow me to introduce you to Nanase-sensei. He’s our only male—and handsome, might I add—Art teacher. Oh, and same age buddies, apparently! You’re in good company, Matsuoka-sensei. Nanase-sensei! Could you raise your hand please?”
I want to die. “Here, kocho-sensei.”
Matsuoka craned his neck, squinting past the forty-something other teachers to look directly at Haruka. He smirked, raising a brow before doing a bit of a bow.
“Handsome, indeed.” He laughed. “I’ll be in your care, Nanase-sensei.”
Haruka was doomed.
He quietly placed his elbow on the table and rested his forehead against his palm, already sensing a headache. Ono-sensei rolled her chair closer to him, whispering a rather indiscreet pssst at him before mouthing, lucky you, Nanase.
Doomed.
“Right! Matsuoka-sensei, just take a seat next to Hayato-sensei and let’s carry on with the rest of our meeting.”