Sorry.

Chapter 9

Third person pov

By the time lunch rolled around, Touya felt dead tired. He was tired of being stared at, tired of doing Algebra, and tired of ignoring the hissing whispers as everyone talked about him behind his back. He hated his desk, and the invisible chick behind him had been on the verge of hyperventilating all morning. The six armed boy next to him, Shoji he thought his name might be, looked ready to attack at any given moment should he need to. It was all just... annoying. It left him feeling mentally exhausted. 

But at least Takashi was there. He stood at the front of the room, helping out any teachers that came in to teach. Touya would watch him bounce around and to pass out papers, stopping to check on the redhead every so often to help him through whatever they're working on at the time. Touya is relieved. He's also glad he was allowed to keep his wedding band on as he sits there, waiting for a break from all they prying eyes. It's a great comfort that helped to keep him from getting too irritable as he spun it around his ring finger.

He's not an idiot. The work isn't terribly hard, but he certainly wasn't breezing through it like Takashi might. It's not as though he's gone through life without any academic presence, however. There were any late nights he found himself staying up and working through problems with Takashi. He could still recall their absolute victory every time they'd finally find an answer. Those were far simpler days.

That being said, he's no genius either. He can follow the lesson just fine, but some of the problems in algebra still trip him up. In art history, he struggled to compose an essay. It wasn't something he'd had to do in years now. Lucky for him, Takashi always seemed to know when he was having even the slightest bit of trouble. Maybe it was a soulmate thing, or maybe it was showing on Touya's face. I didn't matter. Takashi always knew when to stop by the redhead's desk to help him through something, and he'd praise him brightly when it clicked. Those were the moments that kept Touya going.

He can't help but feel bad for Shoto. The moment Mr. Aizawa stepped out of the room and Mic stepped in for English, the class was bombarding his little brother with endless questions. Asking if he knew, if Touya was going to kill them, and such of the like. Takashi was pretty quick to shut it down. His eyes flashed a threatening red that silenced the room completely. Even Present Mic looked taken aback. It's another weight off Touya's chest.

Touya is not good at English. It's a common subject that most begin to learn in middle school, and it continues through the years. But it's been ages since Touya was stuck in the foreign class. He found himself struggling just a bit more than everyone else, who'd been in the class consistently all year, and the years prior. There are words he managed to remember. Simple words like cat, dog, bowl, and cup. Things like those stuck with him. Unfortunately, this class has moved on from single words to simple sentences. 

 Takashi acted as his guiding light. Not only was he Touya's soulmate naturally, but he'd been tasked with watching and helping the scarred man anyway. That means it isn't nearly as weird that he's constantly stopping at Touya's desk to take a peek at his work. Nobody batted an eye at that. Instead, they mutter when it's allowed and send weary looks the redhead's way. Touya found that he was, sadly enough, getting used to it.

The teachers that filtered through also seemed to be waiting for him to slip up. He can just tell. The fact that Touya can't help but grimace, glare, and scowl probably doesn't help in the least. It's just his default set of expressions, that's all! Besides, it's not like he was particularly enjoying the situation or anything of that sort. The only time his face wasn't hardened into something sour was when Takashi was next to him, helping out. He felt more relaxed and content in those moments, if not completely and totally confused by the work that was set out before him.