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[tentaculled]

[ Sometimes, in between teaching a classroom full of rowdy (but dear) children, creating study guides, grading papers, dodging assassination attempts, and travelling the world in quick half-hour sessions, Korosensei does find time to sleep. He's not sure he needs to sleep anymore, in all honesty, but he does, even though it feels like he should be filling every minute of every hour with things, the way they're slipping through his fingers.

Or his tentacles, rather.

Sometimes, he dreams about things from the present: nonsensical dreams about his students, or food, or people and places he's seen around the Earth - the icy plains of the arctic, flower-filled fields in South Africa, busy market streets in China. Other times, he'll have dreams about the past, when he was the God of Death, about blood on his hands, black clouds and gunfire, and the sterile fluorescent lights in a single-room white chamber. Those are unpleasant.

And sometimes, if he's really unlucky, he'll have dreams about her.


It's a normal enough day in the old school building - a hot, late summer day after school, when he's finished tutoring and is cheerfully slithering down the hall towards the teacher's lounge, humming out-of-tune to himself. He opens the door. He freezes. ]

-- Nu...

[ And she's sitting there like nothing ever happened. ]

Comments

[tentaculled]

[ he's trying very hard not to think about the fact that he can see through most of her right now, or the fact that trying to hug her feels like trying to hug a cloud. This moment won't last. But he desperately wants it to. He wishes that she could stay - that she could be there to help him make class plans, or cheer on the students, or advise him on how to talk to the other teachers. To be there with him again just to talk.

More than anything, he misses that. He's been blessed with a classroom full of wonderful children and dependable coworkers, all of whom he's happy to call friend - but he's missing her. Someone that's willing to look at him just as himself, no matter that he's the god of death or a dangerous monster or anything else. ]

... As usual, you're too nice for your own good... [ now he's definitely crying; he's glad she can't see his face while he's holding her like this. Believe it or not, he still wants to retain his dignity, even while he's a yellow octopus man. In front of her, at least. His arms tighten around her, but they feel more like they're passing through her than holding her close. ] I... want to stay at your side, but I can't leave yet... Will you wait for me a little longer?

[commonsensei]

[ Sooner or later, Aguri's forced to acknowledge, he'll die. The fate of all living things. She highly dislikes the fact that he's speaking as though it will be so soon, wants to believe that the people who have come to know and care for him will find a way where she'd failed to do so... but at some point, they will meet again.

The time she has with him is frail and short as it is. ]

I'll wait, [ she assures him now, doing her best to make her wavering voice steady. ] And I know you'll have even more to tell me, about all of the adventures you've had and the people you've looked at.

[tentaculled]

Of course...! I'll have a lot of wonderful stories to tell, I'm sure.

[ it's not like he expected her to say otherwise, but her words are reassuring nonetheless in a purely emotional way. His logical mind can't confirm for him that he'll see her again, but his heart believes. For now, he just tries to memorize the feeling of holding her like this. Not that he needs to make much of an effort. It's the first time he's done so - he doubts he'll forget, even if it's only a dream.

After a few more seconds, he pulls back, however, resting his tentacles on her shoulders. It won't be much longer. He wants to see her face again before she disappears. ]

We have a lot to talk about, after all.

[commonsensei]

We'll have all the time in the world to get through them. [ It's the most reassuring thing she can offer him right now, and she rests one translucent hand on his tentacles, taking a deep breath. Ironic, when she no longer has any need to breathe, but this is his dream. There's no even guarantee that he'll even remember it.

She hopes, if he does remember anything, it will be that she wished for his happiness. ]

... I'll see you again, Sensei.

[ And, with a brighter smile, she's suddenly gone. ]