worn out.

E for Empathy

Buckle up. Shit happens.
__

He's sitting in class, but he doesn't really think he's there, maybe he's out the window, far away. Sitting on the ledge. The dirt is cramping on the wood of the windowsill. It's almost like a seal, glued shut. 

Atsu wonders about it, for a moment. It's warmer, up here, suffocating, like humidity always is. Summer is the wrong shade of green  and blue this year, the same color as the ocean. Something like hate wraps around his throat, holds him underwater. A water board, it's not that time of the year though. It's not an anniversary worth remembering today. So he doesn't. 

He should be outside. 

(Socks wet, hair full of sand, eyes burning. Failure.)

"Everyone meet the newest member of E-class." Karasuma-sensei drones, his eyes are stoney, cold. He is done with this, and nothing has begun yet. Karasuma-sensei nods off to her. The newest teacher.

"My name is Miss Irina Jelavic, it's nice to meet you all!" She smiles a close eyed smile. Her lips twisted upward. It's fake, Atsu can tell. This sugar-cane mockery of a smile, the kind his parents give their guests. The kind he gives when all he can smell is salt.

Jelavic hasn't changed at all from the picture. It must've been taken years ago, before he was born, or maybe it was only taken in that moment. She's blonde―long and wavy, like a waterfall gone wrong. Or the yellow river in Henan. Atsu hasn't been to China in a very, very long time. Not since before, and even then he was mostly in a room, staring at the balcony.

He wonders if his parents were ever disappointed he never found his way off.

"We decided to bring Miss Jelavic up in the interest of beefing up the English curriculum, no hard feelings, I hope." Karasuma-sensei explains, the dark circles under his eyes seemed more prominent than normal, like raccoon splotches, and the glaze over them insisted he had been up all night researching something, probably on a computer. "She's, uh, very qualified."

Shiota says something under their  breath, but Atsu doesn't quite pay attention, instead focusing on the little blotches of dirt on the window behind Terasuka. The delinquent a second spot away seemed to think the window closest to Atsu was interesting as well. Or maybe he's looking at Atsu— that wouldn't really make sense, though, would it.

"Oh, the more I look at you, the more I feel myself drawn in." Irina Jelavic whispers, head tilted to Koro-sensei's pectoral region thing. "Those tiny, suppository eyes, those gelatnis joints, I'm simply captivated by the whole package!"

She's holding him, but the words are too sweet. Too sticky. It's confectionery.

It's warm out, so he ditches the gym uniform jacket, leaving him with a white shirt and blue pants. Atsu wonders if anyone is staring at his scars, at the way they trace around his arms. He doesn't pay too much attention, focusing on the―

"Let's see ya' pass the ball!" Koro-sensei shouts, determined to motivate his students, it's a bit pointless, Atsu thinks. Smoke falls out from a window, into the spring like air. Except it was autumn. It's too warm, maybe, maybe. There's something wrong, here. 

His head itches. 

"Heads up!" Called out the teacher once more. He throws the ball up a sizable distance.

Akabane kicks the ball up yelling out a malicious, "Pass," before continuing with, "and kill!"

An anti-BB-bullet is shot, latching on and slamming to the next one. Atsu watches carefully as this happens, his face bored. Numb. Carefully so. He knows, he made it that way, or maybe he's always been like this. He was like this before the— he was like this before, too, he can remember. His parents were less angry about it then, he remember his på whispered in his ear once, that's a good boy, real men don't show what they're feeling. Atsu remember's thinking what's there to feel.

As always the octopus teacher manages to dodge every time someone attacks, so Atsu doesn't even make an attempt to try.

"Yoohoo," Jelevic-sensei calls. Her heels stumble on the grass, it makes her skirt ride up awkwardly. "Karasuma tells me you can go mack-twenty, and I just had to see it with my own eyes!"

"Well... " Koro-sensei says, slowly. His face is shifting to a bright pink. "He may have exaggerated a bit."

"I hate to ask this, but I would be ever so greatful if you were to fetch me some Vietnamese coffee. I thought you could get it while I run the students through they're english lesson." She smiled another fake smile, but Koro-sensei was to caught up in her chest to notice. Atsu wonders what that's like. Feeling enough attraction to ignore their intentions. His parents certainly never liked each other so much.

"But of course, Moncheré, it just so happens I know a fabulous cafe in Vietnam." The pink octopus stammers. White eyes curved contently. 

He leaves behind a dust cloud in his wake, something smoldering. It doesn't cut out the sound of the bells. Sharp and new.

"Right, Miss Irina, it's about that time, I mean, that's the bell. Shouldn't we head back in?" Isogai questions, knife resting in his palm.

"Sure, whatever." She says coldly, Atsu has a moment of clarity, there she is, it murmurs. "But a teacher needs her peace and quiet, so make it a study hall." She blows out smog, it dissipates into the air. Atsu knows that brand. They aren't based in Japan.

"And another thing, let's agree not to call me 'miss' when the octopus isn't around. And we're definitely not on a first name basis, so drop it." The cigarette is held between her index and thumb, ash falls off, there's something so familiar about this. "And when the octopus is around, call me Ms. Jelavic. Got it?"

"Heh," Akabane  started from beside the protagonist of this story. "so what's your game, miss Jelabitch"

"And no nicknames!" She pointed at Akabane with anger, her eyes slits, she bares her teeth into a mockery of a smile. 

"Wow, we gotta real pro here! Oh, just a warning from those who've been playing the odds, your not going to kill the octopus by yourself." Akabane grins sharp as the knife in his hand.

It's an informative ploy, he understands. The way she conducts herself is only bound to the way she was raised. To work alone. To use herself as a means to information. She does, of course, do so. It's how she was raised, he knows. He can see it in the way there's no hesitation when she kisses Shiota. 

She does it like it's a job. He supposes it is, after all.

"And your Atsu, you're the analyst of the class, right?" She nodded her fingers up and down.

"No." No, because he's no analyst No, because Atsu isn't in her right. He gave no permission for the use of his name. That's the only thing he has.

She clenches her teeth at his response, she growls, eyes narrow. Then she smiles again. The fake expression stitches onto her face and he does nothing but blink in response. Then she puts his face in her hands and proceeds to try repeat what she'd done with Shiota, who's laying collapsed  on the floor.

The key word here, is try, of course. She gets close and everything, but  he uses the BB-gun, the kind with useless bullets that won't kill her, but that's not to say they won't hurt. He's taller than she is, by a little. He cranes the gun so the mouth is against the underside of her jaw. She's frozen. 

"I said no, didn't you hear?"

He wonders if she realized yet, what family he's in. She must have. 

"Your like your father," she whispered. "playing hard to get must be in your blood, Hino-san ."

E For Empathy;

You have taken my love from me

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₲łVɆ ł₮ ฿₳₵₭!

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꒒ꋬ꒐ꋪꇙ

ꋬ꒒꒒ ꄲꊰ ꌦꄲ꒤!!

Mo m 𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒'𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚛 𝚊𝚣𝚢 AGAIN.