espial: Storm clouds and zombies
AUTHOR: espial
RECIPIENT: aunt_agatha
TITLE: Storm clouds and zombies.
RATING: R
WORD COUNT: (for fic) 2207
WARNING/S: oral sex.
SUMMARY: (for fic) Shishido invites Choutarou over for a night of zombie slaying and video games.
NOTES: Thanks aunt_agatha for providing so much to pick and chose from! I hope you enjoy this.
Choutarou liked to play with his eyes closed, losing himself in the notes of the music. It was a habit left over from when he was a child, a solution to soothe nerves offered by an overly helpful music instructor. Outside influences removed, Choutarou could then focus on the music, the way it made him feel and how to express those emotions through the classical pieces so many people knew. His fingers rested on the keys of the piano, collecting himself when the measure was finished.
“Next week right?” Shishido’s voice startled him, Choutarou turned to see the other boy leaning against the door frame arms crossed. “It sounds good, Choutarou.” He hadn’t ever really gotten used to the sound of his name coming from Shishido’s mouth. That, paired with the brief flash of pride in Shishido’s eyes did very strange things to Chatarou’s insides.
“Yes.” Choutarou gathered the sheet music, placing it into a folder. “Is there something you need Shishido-san?” The folder was placed into his bag, the piano cover tugged into place.
“My dad’s out of town on a conference.” Choutarou nodded, Shishido continued. “My mom went to visit my brother and his wife. You want to stay over?” Shishido ducked his gaze, pulled his hat lower, nervous habits that Choutarou knew too well. Shishido’s voice was calm, but his mannerisms said otherwise.
“My parents won’t mind.” Choutarou shouldered his bag. “Let’s go.”
Shishido stayed a step or two ahead, looking back to speak to Choutarou. Once they stepped onto residential streets, he turned, walking backwards as they talked. Choutarou watched their surroundings closely, making sure that the other boy wouldn’t trip. Shishido’s house was warm and inviting even though it was just the two of them.
“I got the new zombie apocalypse game.” Shishido said as he wrestled a mangled tennis ball from his dog’s mouth, tossing it down the hallway. “I haven’t played it yet. It’s two player.” The dog presented Choutarou with the slobbery ball, tail wagging a mile a minute. Choutarou grinned, tossing the ball into the air, catching it, the dog plopping herself at his feet, watching intently. “Sounds good.”
Shishido snatched the ball out of the air, holding it in front of the dog’s nose. “Let’s wear her out first. Otherwise we won’t be able to get far at all.” They headed outside, the dog jumping and prancing between them. It wasn’t just the dog they were wearing out, Choutarou smirked as Shishido wrestled on the ground, shirt smeared with paw prints and dirt. Practice had ended early, when the weather had changed. Earlier in the day the skies were blue and clear, now they were a strange green-grey, air heavy and oppressive, the sent of rain on the wind. A low rumble of thunder drew Choutarou attention to the sky, watching curiously as the clouds writhed, massing upon themselves.
“Incoming!” Shishido’s gleeful yell was tossed aside by the wind, Choutarou found himself on the ground the dog slobbering happily on his knee.
“Shishido-san!” Choutarou’s protests weren’t heard as Shishido was doubled over with laughter. He tossed the ball at Shishido, grunting when the dog’s paw dug into his thigh, launching herself at Shishido. Choutarou watched as the two tore across the back yard, the dog had found a new toy in Shishido’s hat.
Rain started to fall, fat, heavy drops splattering down from the sky, soaking everything quickly. It didn’t take long before the backyard was a soupy muddy mess, the dog barking happily as she chased ball after ball. Choutarou’s clothes clung to his body, the fabric soaked through. Shishido took the ball from the dog, placing the muddy ball in his pocket.
“We should go in. Before this gets much worse.” As Shishido spoke, rain and wind picking up. Somehow they managed to get the dog inside, and dry without getting mud everywhere. Shishido tossed a clean towel at him, along with a pair of sweat pants and a clean shirt. “You left these over here a while ago. I meant to give them back.” It didn’t take long for them to get settled, Shishido on one end of the couch, Choutarou on the other, the dog snoring between them.
Admittedly the game was good, graphics slick and eerily realistic. It didn’t help that whenever Choutarou’s character got eaten Shishido would spend the next twenty minutes impersonating a zombie. Dinner was store bought ramen, bags of chips and mountains of candy that would normally send them into diabetic comas. The dog had moved to the floor, snoring in front of the television, Shishido had moved closer, thigh and arms hot points of contact against Choutarou as they played. Hours crept by, explosive laughter and whoops of celebration at the demise the walking dead were replaced by yawns that grew not only in size but frequency.
Choutarou woke with a start, gasping as the windows shook with the force of the thunder clap. He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep, the controller was in his lap, the television flashing red, words ‘You lose’ blinking in white text. He turned to see that Shishido wasn’t on the couch next to him. The room was briefly illuminated by a flash of lightening, thunder following immediately afterward.
“Shishido-san?” Choutarou placed the controller on the table, reset the game. There was a loud crash, excited barking, and the unmistakable sound of Shishido cursing. Choutarou headed into the kitchen where the noise seemed to be coming from. He found Shishido, surrounded by glass and water, glaring at the window which had broken.
“Don’t come!” Shishido held up a hand, Choutarou paused in the doorway. “There’s glass everywhere.” His frown deepened, the dog creeping closer to him. “Call her, will you?”
“Haru.” Choutarou called for the dog, snapping to get her attention. “Come here.” When the dog came within arm’s reach, Choutarou scooped her up, checking her paws for shards of glass. “I’ll put her in your bedroom.” He carried the dog upstairs, ignoring the look he received as he shut the door to keep her in. “Are you okay?” Choutarou asked Shishido who was sitting on the counter, examining the sole of his foot.
“I said don’t come.” Shishido grunted, nails scraping at a shard of glass embedded in his foot. Choutarou shrugged, and reached down the first aide kit.
“Slide over.” Tweezers in hand, Choutarou removed the shard, bandaging Shishido’s foot. “What should we do about the window?”
“I can board it up, and call someone in the morning.” Shishido walked on the counters, hopping down to retrieve the broom. “Could you sweep that up? I’ll board it up from the outside.” Shishido handed him the broom, shoes in his other hand. Choutarou swept the glass up, discarding it. Shishido barreled into the house a little while later, soaking wet, and muddy.
“Here.” Choutarou handed Shishido one towel, and placed another on his head. He rubbed Shishido’s hair, the towel quickly becoming water logged. Choutarou frowned, reached for another towel from the stack he had grabbed. He tensed when Shishido leaned forward, arms sliding around Choutarou’s waist. Shishido shook against him, Choutarou could hear the other boy’s teeth chattering. “Go change.” Choutarou swallowed forcefully, words taking too long to put together.
“In a minute.” Choutarou forced himself to breathe, Shishido’s voice rumbling out from under the towel. “You’re warm.”
The hold around Choutarou’s waist tightened, Shishido’s chest pressed against his own. Hesitantly, Choutarou dropped his arms, holding Shishido against him. He focused on the cold water seeping into his own clothing, rather than the long press of a shaking Shishido against his body- or how despite the cold, the warmth radiating from Shishido’s hands as they splayed across Choutarou’s back. The towel slid from his hands, landing wetly on the floor. One of Shishido’s hands had slid around to Choutarou’s front, fisting in his shirt, dragging his head down, the harsh press of Shishido’s lips against Choutarou’s; the kiss over before it really began.
Choutarou’s heart pounded, deaf to everything except for the sound of the blush rushing through his body, Shishido’s hair wet and thick under Choutarou’s fingertips, the other boy’s head tipping up and back, opening eagerly under Choutarou’s. He felt Shishido’s groan, the wet sweep of his tongue along Choutarou’s lower lip. A third kiss, Shishido demanding and rough, left Choutarou breathless and wanting, heart pounding, body throbbing with need.
“You should change Shishido-san.” Choutarou’s words were thick, voice low, fingers itching to touch the other boy. Shishido nodded, tugged on the hem of Choutarou’s shirt- the scrape of cotton against his skin made him squirm.
“You too. I’ll get you one of my dad’s shirts.” Shishido glanced at the clock, over Choutarou’s shoulder. “We should probably get some sleep as well. I’ll get a futon.”
Choutarou wasn’t sure how he managed to go back to sleep. The futon was thick and warm, Choutarou’s mind playing on a never-ending loop the events in the kitchen. The feeling of Shishido’s mouth against his own, the press his chest, the feeling of Shishido’s hands on his body. Before he knew it morning had come, and he was halfway through Western Literature. He rubbed wearily at his face, sleep luring him away from the words of Steinbeck. Math passed the same way, Choutarou answering the equations on autopilot.
“Choutarou.” Shishido appeared next to him, matching his pace. “I need to talk to you.”
“I have class, Shishido-san” Choutarou tried, and failed to look at Shishido without blushing.
“It’ll just be a minute. You’ll still make it in time.” Shishido’s grip on Choutarou’s elbow was strong, half leading, half manhandling him into a janitor’s closet.
“Shishido-san?” Choutarou arched an eyebrow, nose wrinkling at the overwhelming cacophony of chemical smells, and the underlying scent of mildew.
“I don’t want to be overheard.” Shishido stepped closer, toe-to-toe with Choutarou in the small space. Choutarou focused on Shishido’s fingers which were tangling in his tie, knotting it, smoothing it back down on his shirt. Choutarou reached out, ceasing Shishido’s movements. His mouth opened, brain forming the words to ask what was on Shishido’s mind- rather he found himself leaning in kissing Shishido’s mouth softly.
Shishido’s groan was all the encouragement Choutarou needed, letting the kiss build, mouth lingering over Shishido’s. Choutarou pulled Shishido closer, flush against his body, fingers creeping under the hem of Shishido’s dress shirt. One of Shishido’s knees slid between Choutarou’s legs, leaning into the other boy. Choutarou jerked with surprise, Shishido fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, calloused fingers brushing down Choutarou’s neck, over his collar bones, palm skimming over Choutarou’s chest, blunt nails scraping over one of his nipples. Shishido’s other hand pressed over Choutarou’s mouth, muffling the noise that spilled from his mouth.
Sloppy kisses smeared down the path Shishido’s fingers previously traced, Choutarou’s hands finding a hold on Shishido’s hips. His grip tightened, rolling his hips against Shishido’s, shockwaves of electricity running through his body. Choutarou was jolted back to the present when Shishido’s fingers stroked low on his stomach dipping just under the waistband of his pants.
“Shishido-san…” Choutarou’s hips rolled under the touch, his hand sliding between them to cup Shishido through his pants. Shishido hissed, Choutarou rubbed, the heel of his palm applying just enough pressure to make the other boy shudder. Choutarou’s hands shook, Shishido’s belt buckle giving under his touch, the rasp of the zipper loud, Shishido panting harshly against his shoulder. Choutarou bit his lower lip, steadying his nerves, fingers brushing lightly over Shishido’s erection. Shishido stilled against him, Choutarou repeated the touch, fingertips lingering, moving upward.
“Choutarou.” Shishido’s spoke quietly, mouth moving against Choutarou’s shoulder. Choutarou tried to identify the emotions in his name, drawing a blank. Shishido kissed him, the touch of lips gentle. Choutarou smiled against Shishido’s lips, kissed his cheek, then his chin, trailing kisses down Shishido’s neck. Choutarou sank to his knees, hands tugging Shishido’s pants down. Choutarou stroked Shishido softly, gauging the response before licking along the length. Shishido sighed, shakily, Choutarou accepted it as permission, and slowly took Shishido’s cock into his mouth, swallowing him down. Shishido’s hands were tangling in Choutarou’s hair, as he grew comfortable with the sensation of Shishido sliding down his throat. Choutarou hollowed his cheeks, increasing the friction, Shishido tugging sharply at his hair, hips thrusting upward. Choutarou sputtered, mouth and jaw relaxing. Shishido came with a strangled sound, Choutarou delicately wiping his mouth on his handkerchief.
“You…” Shishido panted, Choutarou looking up at him. His hands drew Shishido’s pants carefully back to where they should be fastening them. Choutarou couldn’t help but grin, blush rising on his face as he stood.
“Mmmhm.” Choutarou agreed, stealing a kiss. He stared in wide eyed horror when the door handle rattled. Shishido cursed, Choutarou buttoned his shirt, trying desperately to tuck it back into his pants.
“If you two are finished,” Oshitari’s lazy drawl came from the other side of the door. “Atobe says that there’s a meeting in the student council meeting.”
They could hear the low rumble of Oshitari’s laughter. “For future reference, the chemistry lab in the east wing, is far more… pleasant for conversations.” The door rattled once more, Oshitari’s footsteps trailing down the hallway.
RECIPIENT: aunt_agatha
TITLE: Storm clouds and zombies.
RATING: R
WORD COUNT: (for fic) 2207
WARNING/S: oral sex.
SUMMARY: (for fic) Shishido invites Choutarou over for a night of zombie slaying and video games.
NOTES: Thanks aunt_agatha for providing so much to pick and chose from! I hope you enjoy this.
Choutarou liked to play with his eyes closed, losing himself in the notes of the music. It was a habit left over from when he was a child, a solution to soothe nerves offered by an overly helpful music instructor. Outside influences removed, Choutarou could then focus on the music, the way it made him feel and how to express those emotions through the classical pieces so many people knew. His fingers rested on the keys of the piano, collecting himself when the measure was finished.
“Next week right?” Shishido’s voice startled him, Choutarou turned to see the other boy leaning against the door frame arms crossed. “It sounds good, Choutarou.” He hadn’t ever really gotten used to the sound of his name coming from Shishido’s mouth. That, paired with the brief flash of pride in Shishido’s eyes did very strange things to Chatarou’s insides.
“Yes.” Choutarou gathered the sheet music, placing it into a folder. “Is there something you need Shishido-san?” The folder was placed into his bag, the piano cover tugged into place.
“My dad’s out of town on a conference.” Choutarou nodded, Shishido continued. “My mom went to visit my brother and his wife. You want to stay over?” Shishido ducked his gaze, pulled his hat lower, nervous habits that Choutarou knew too well. Shishido’s voice was calm, but his mannerisms said otherwise.
“My parents won’t mind.” Choutarou shouldered his bag. “Let’s go.”
Shishido stayed a step or two ahead, looking back to speak to Choutarou. Once they stepped onto residential streets, he turned, walking backwards as they talked. Choutarou watched their surroundings closely, making sure that the other boy wouldn’t trip. Shishido’s house was warm and inviting even though it was just the two of them.
“I got the new zombie apocalypse game.” Shishido said as he wrestled a mangled tennis ball from his dog’s mouth, tossing it down the hallway. “I haven’t played it yet. It’s two player.” The dog presented Choutarou with the slobbery ball, tail wagging a mile a minute. Choutarou grinned, tossing the ball into the air, catching it, the dog plopping herself at his feet, watching intently. “Sounds good.”
Shishido snatched the ball out of the air, holding it in front of the dog’s nose. “Let’s wear her out first. Otherwise we won’t be able to get far at all.” They headed outside, the dog jumping and prancing between them. It wasn’t just the dog they were wearing out, Choutarou smirked as Shishido wrestled on the ground, shirt smeared with paw prints and dirt. Practice had ended early, when the weather had changed. Earlier in the day the skies were blue and clear, now they were a strange green-grey, air heavy and oppressive, the sent of rain on the wind. A low rumble of thunder drew Choutarou attention to the sky, watching curiously as the clouds writhed, massing upon themselves.
“Incoming!” Shishido’s gleeful yell was tossed aside by the wind, Choutarou found himself on the ground the dog slobbering happily on his knee.
“Shishido-san!” Choutarou’s protests weren’t heard as Shishido was doubled over with laughter. He tossed the ball at Shishido, grunting when the dog’s paw dug into his thigh, launching herself at Shishido. Choutarou watched as the two tore across the back yard, the dog had found a new toy in Shishido’s hat.
Rain started to fall, fat, heavy drops splattering down from the sky, soaking everything quickly. It didn’t take long before the backyard was a soupy muddy mess, the dog barking happily as she chased ball after ball. Choutarou’s clothes clung to his body, the fabric soaked through. Shishido took the ball from the dog, placing the muddy ball in his pocket.
“We should go in. Before this gets much worse.” As Shishido spoke, rain and wind picking up. Somehow they managed to get the dog inside, and dry without getting mud everywhere. Shishido tossed a clean towel at him, along with a pair of sweat pants and a clean shirt. “You left these over here a while ago. I meant to give them back.” It didn’t take long for them to get settled, Shishido on one end of the couch, Choutarou on the other, the dog snoring between them.
Admittedly the game was good, graphics slick and eerily realistic. It didn’t help that whenever Choutarou’s character got eaten Shishido would spend the next twenty minutes impersonating a zombie. Dinner was store bought ramen, bags of chips and mountains of candy that would normally send them into diabetic comas. The dog had moved to the floor, snoring in front of the television, Shishido had moved closer, thigh and arms hot points of contact against Choutarou as they played. Hours crept by, explosive laughter and whoops of celebration at the demise the walking dead were replaced by yawns that grew not only in size but frequency.
Choutarou woke with a start, gasping as the windows shook with the force of the thunder clap. He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep, the controller was in his lap, the television flashing red, words ‘You lose’ blinking in white text. He turned to see that Shishido wasn’t on the couch next to him. The room was briefly illuminated by a flash of lightening, thunder following immediately afterward.
“Shishido-san?” Choutarou placed the controller on the table, reset the game. There was a loud crash, excited barking, and the unmistakable sound of Shishido cursing. Choutarou headed into the kitchen where the noise seemed to be coming from. He found Shishido, surrounded by glass and water, glaring at the window which had broken.
“Don’t come!” Shishido held up a hand, Choutarou paused in the doorway. “There’s glass everywhere.” His frown deepened, the dog creeping closer to him. “Call her, will you?”
“Haru.” Choutarou called for the dog, snapping to get her attention. “Come here.” When the dog came within arm’s reach, Choutarou scooped her up, checking her paws for shards of glass. “I’ll put her in your bedroom.” He carried the dog upstairs, ignoring the look he received as he shut the door to keep her in. “Are you okay?” Choutarou asked Shishido who was sitting on the counter, examining the sole of his foot.
“I said don’t come.” Shishido grunted, nails scraping at a shard of glass embedded in his foot. Choutarou shrugged, and reached down the first aide kit.
“Slide over.” Tweezers in hand, Choutarou removed the shard, bandaging Shishido’s foot. “What should we do about the window?”
“I can board it up, and call someone in the morning.” Shishido walked on the counters, hopping down to retrieve the broom. “Could you sweep that up? I’ll board it up from the outside.” Shishido handed him the broom, shoes in his other hand. Choutarou swept the glass up, discarding it. Shishido barreled into the house a little while later, soaking wet, and muddy.
“Here.” Choutarou handed Shishido one towel, and placed another on his head. He rubbed Shishido’s hair, the towel quickly becoming water logged. Choutarou frowned, reached for another towel from the stack he had grabbed. He tensed when Shishido leaned forward, arms sliding around Choutarou’s waist. Shishido shook against him, Choutarou could hear the other boy’s teeth chattering. “Go change.” Choutarou swallowed forcefully, words taking too long to put together.
“In a minute.” Choutarou forced himself to breathe, Shishido’s voice rumbling out from under the towel. “You’re warm.”
The hold around Choutarou’s waist tightened, Shishido’s chest pressed against his own. Hesitantly, Choutarou dropped his arms, holding Shishido against him. He focused on the cold water seeping into his own clothing, rather than the long press of a shaking Shishido against his body- or how despite the cold, the warmth radiating from Shishido’s hands as they splayed across Choutarou’s back. The towel slid from his hands, landing wetly on the floor. One of Shishido’s hands had slid around to Choutarou’s front, fisting in his shirt, dragging his head down, the harsh press of Shishido’s lips against Choutarou’s; the kiss over before it really began.
Choutarou’s heart pounded, deaf to everything except for the sound of the blush rushing through his body, Shishido’s hair wet and thick under Choutarou’s fingertips, the other boy’s head tipping up and back, opening eagerly under Choutarou’s. He felt Shishido’s groan, the wet sweep of his tongue along Choutarou’s lower lip. A third kiss, Shishido demanding and rough, left Choutarou breathless and wanting, heart pounding, body throbbing with need.
“You should change Shishido-san.” Choutarou’s words were thick, voice low, fingers itching to touch the other boy. Shishido nodded, tugged on the hem of Choutarou’s shirt- the scrape of cotton against his skin made him squirm.
“You too. I’ll get you one of my dad’s shirts.” Shishido glanced at the clock, over Choutarou’s shoulder. “We should probably get some sleep as well. I’ll get a futon.”
Choutarou wasn’t sure how he managed to go back to sleep. The futon was thick and warm, Choutarou’s mind playing on a never-ending loop the events in the kitchen. The feeling of Shishido’s mouth against his own, the press his chest, the feeling of Shishido’s hands on his body. Before he knew it morning had come, and he was halfway through Western Literature. He rubbed wearily at his face, sleep luring him away from the words of Steinbeck. Math passed the same way, Choutarou answering the equations on autopilot.
“Choutarou.” Shishido appeared next to him, matching his pace. “I need to talk to you.”
“I have class, Shishido-san” Choutarou tried, and failed to look at Shishido without blushing.
“It’ll just be a minute. You’ll still make it in time.” Shishido’s grip on Choutarou’s elbow was strong, half leading, half manhandling him into a janitor’s closet.
“Shishido-san?” Choutarou arched an eyebrow, nose wrinkling at the overwhelming cacophony of chemical smells, and the underlying scent of mildew.
“I don’t want to be overheard.” Shishido stepped closer, toe-to-toe with Choutarou in the small space. Choutarou focused on Shishido’s fingers which were tangling in his tie, knotting it, smoothing it back down on his shirt. Choutarou reached out, ceasing Shishido’s movements. His mouth opened, brain forming the words to ask what was on Shishido’s mind- rather he found himself leaning in kissing Shishido’s mouth softly.
Shishido’s groan was all the encouragement Choutarou needed, letting the kiss build, mouth lingering over Shishido’s. Choutarou pulled Shishido closer, flush against his body, fingers creeping under the hem of Shishido’s dress shirt. One of Shishido’s knees slid between Choutarou’s legs, leaning into the other boy. Choutarou jerked with surprise, Shishido fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, calloused fingers brushing down Choutarou’s neck, over his collar bones, palm skimming over Choutarou’s chest, blunt nails scraping over one of his nipples. Shishido’s other hand pressed over Choutarou’s mouth, muffling the noise that spilled from his mouth.
Sloppy kisses smeared down the path Shishido’s fingers previously traced, Choutarou’s hands finding a hold on Shishido’s hips. His grip tightened, rolling his hips against Shishido’s, shockwaves of electricity running through his body. Choutarou was jolted back to the present when Shishido’s fingers stroked low on his stomach dipping just under the waistband of his pants.
“Shishido-san…” Choutarou’s hips rolled under the touch, his hand sliding between them to cup Shishido through his pants. Shishido hissed, Choutarou rubbed, the heel of his palm applying just enough pressure to make the other boy shudder. Choutarou’s hands shook, Shishido’s belt buckle giving under his touch, the rasp of the zipper loud, Shishido panting harshly against his shoulder. Choutarou bit his lower lip, steadying his nerves, fingers brushing lightly over Shishido’s erection. Shishido stilled against him, Choutarou repeated the touch, fingertips lingering, moving upward.
“Choutarou.” Shishido’s spoke quietly, mouth moving against Choutarou’s shoulder. Choutarou tried to identify the emotions in his name, drawing a blank. Shishido kissed him, the touch of lips gentle. Choutarou smiled against Shishido’s lips, kissed his cheek, then his chin, trailing kisses down Shishido’s neck. Choutarou sank to his knees, hands tugging Shishido’s pants down. Choutarou stroked Shishido softly, gauging the response before licking along the length. Shishido sighed, shakily, Choutarou accepted it as permission, and slowly took Shishido’s cock into his mouth, swallowing him down. Shishido’s hands were tangling in Choutarou’s hair, as he grew comfortable with the sensation of Shishido sliding down his throat. Choutarou hollowed his cheeks, increasing the friction, Shishido tugging sharply at his hair, hips thrusting upward. Choutarou sputtered, mouth and jaw relaxing. Shishido came with a strangled sound, Choutarou delicately wiping his mouth on his handkerchief.
“You…” Shishido panted, Choutarou looking up at him. His hands drew Shishido’s pants carefully back to where they should be fastening them. Choutarou couldn’t help but grin, blush rising on his face as he stood.
“Mmmhm.” Choutarou agreed, stealing a kiss. He stared in wide eyed horror when the door handle rattled. Shishido cursed, Choutarou buttoned his shirt, trying desperately to tuck it back into his pants.
“If you two are finished,” Oshitari’s lazy drawl came from the other side of the door. “Atobe says that there’s a meeting in the student council meeting.”
They could hear the low rumble of Oshitari’s laughter. “For future reference, the chemistry lab in the east wing, is far more… pleasant for conversations.” The door rattled once more, Oshitari’s footsteps trailing down the hallway.