Chuuya's Agni
Nekozawa walked into the common room, expecting hoards of Oxbridge students to be there waiting to congratulate him. But when he opened the door, he heard no cheering, nor did he see anyone upon first look. On further scrutiny he noticed the slumped body of Zoro, who had clearly woken post-nap.
“Where is everyone?” he asked, trying to not let his disappointment show.
“Oh they went to the beach while I was asleep,” Zoro replied, showing him the text they’d sent on a group chat Nekozawa wasn’t apart of. There were pictures of them there. Sanji seemed to be cooking fresh crab. The rest were in the middle of a volleyball game. Seeing how sunny it was made him shudder.
He felt a bit jealous then remembered he now had Soma and Atsushi. That was two whole people he could text!
“Did they not watch me win the round?”
“You won?” Zoro yawned. “Cool.”
Nekozawa was affronted. Did none of the students know he came second? He recalled the moment he grabbed the golden ball, expecting wild cheers from the audience and receiving only a smattering of applause.
Soma walked in, “Well done Nekozawa! I knew you could do it! Uh – where is everyone?”
-
“Professor Hawkeye,” Soma panted, chasing behind the music teacher. The man paused, readying himself for a conversation with the painfully energetic and annoying Soma. “You have to do something. All of the students have gone to the beach and they didn’t even watch Nekozawa win the tournament for us all!”
Hawkeye briefly remembered that he too was invited to the beach day in the group chat, though had to decline to watch students play with a cat.
“Well I’m sure if you get in the car now you’ll be able to arrive before sundown,” Hawkeye suggested. “You’ll get a few hours of fun in at least.”
“No!” Soma looked at the teacher in shock. In India people would never act this way! “We need to show Nekozawa support for the next round, because this school has shown that they clearly do not care for him currently!”
Hawkeye knew he had to appease the Indian prince. If he were to leave the school Fukazawa would be angry. Having high-profile students was what Oxbridge needed at this time, he constantly reminded him.
“I already sat with him in the tent, Soma. I’m supporting him as much as humanly possible.” Hawkeye thought back to the silent conversation he’d had with the student. He loved being a good, supportive teacher.
Soma’s lips trembled. “They told me you’re the music teacher! And what horrible things you said to Chuuya! We need to support each other. I have always had Agni beside me, always there to ensure my happiness. But people like Nekozawa and Chuuya have no one, so we need to step in and help them! I know this is what Ciel would have wanted. I have an idea to stop Chuuya being so miserable and to make Nekozawa feel supported.”
Hawkeye looked to the sky, subtly taking a deep breath. He knew this child was very annoying, and cursed the sperm that had created him and thus given him a position of power.
-
It was nearing sunrise. The cherry blossoms sifted to the floor. Chuuya sat on a bench below them, shoulders slumped, picking petals off stems and contemplating lyfe.
“Chuuya.”
The boy looked up at his music teacher.
Chuuya had not sung since Pokkle’s funeral, before his professors had been put in prison. He gulped.
“Pokkle may be a good singer. But your voice,” Hawkeye sighed, “Is also very good. Please start singing again.”
Chuuya’s lips trembled, eyes filling with tears. Was his music teacher telling the truth? He had not sung for years as he had doubted his skills. Was there a slight chance Chuuya was wrong, and that maybe he could sing well?
“Okay, Professor Hawkeye.”
It was the first of Chuuya’s voice he had heard in weeks. The teacher-part of him finally relaxed. As much as he acted nonchalant around the students, there was a small easily ignorable part of him that felt uncomfortable when people were upset, especially people who had taught singing for years.
And that was how Chuuya had been recruited as support-singing for Nekozawa, who needed the support.