Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked, surveying the selection of jurors.

The judge was older, in his late 60’s. He carried a confidence to him as he spoke, commanding attention with every syllable that rolled off his tongue. He wore a frown constantly, which formed lines that even when his face was relaxed, the creases were still present. When the defendant first laid eyes on the judge, he saw his future staring right back at him, only paired with sky-blue eyes instead of deep, scorching amber.

Up until this point in the courtroom, Toraki Hara, Tora for short, had been listening intently as the events unfolded around him. He huffed through his nose when a witness was at the stand, swearing they were telling the truth. He furrowed his brows and would make an audible growl when someone brought up his life, flaying him wide open to be criticized. He would grind his teeth together, clenching his jaw to keep from speaking out of order.

Cordelia Matune tried every trick she had up her sleeve to have him acquitted. However, something about how Tora approached everything with disdain made the jury uneasy. One time he whipped his head around so fast when something was said about him, the courtroom laughed. His eyes resembling searing pointed daggers, cut into the very souls of the jury. They never laughed again after that point.

Maybe it was his permanent scowl or even perhaps the number of tattoos he had on display. Or maybe, quite possibly, the self-loathing he had was just strong enough to come off like a rancid aroma, filling the room, and forcing everyone to take it in.

“We have, your Honor,” a man said from the juror's box, a paper in his hand. Tora glanced up as the room came to a standstill for the first time in months. After countless hours of questioning witnesses, the defense and the prosecution going head to head, the evidence of a crime Tora didn’t commit strewn across a board for everyone to see; this was the quietest the courtroom was.

Everyone else waited with bated breath to hear the decision. On the other hand, Tora was letting another moment pass before a judgment was made.

“What say you?” the judge asked, folding his hands together, waiting for a reply as he sat back in his chair.

“We, the jury, in the case of The Republic of Narin versus Toraki Hara, find the defendant Guilty of attempted murder in the second degree.”

Fuck his life. 

“In the events of today’s trial, let it be known that I hereby sentence Toraki Hara to 25 years in the Narin Federal Correctional Facility for Men with the possibility of parole in ten. Thank you, Jury, for your service today. The court is adjourned.”

With the crack of the gavel, Tora’s fate was sealed.

“Tora.” Cordelia turned to him before the guards came to take him away.

Tora grunted, acknowledging her with his head lowered to his hands, twiddling his thumbs as she nudged him. 

“Tora,” Cordelia repeated herself, her tone more firm.

Tora grunted again, fucking irritated that she demanded he take her seriously.

“It’s time to get up, man,” Cordelia said, her voice huskier than the last time she spoke.

“The fuck ya talkin’--”

Tora was yanked from his dream, the one he had replayed in his sleep for the past five years and six months. 2013 days to be exact.

Tora draped his heavy arm over his face while his cellmate, Scharch, was coaxing him to wake up with a pillow. Tora didn’t mind the guy. He came in handy on more than one occasion. He could put on an act of cunning that worked almost every time. He was a newer inmate and came in about a year ago. He had cold blue eyes and auburn hair. When he smiled, it wasn’t a friendly one to people who knew him. It was one of a predator, one trying to lure in his next victim. 

Before Scharch, some guy named Gil used to cry every goddamn night, swearing he was innocent. Didn’t the fucker know that when ya in prison, everyone’s fuckin’ innocent? Tora found a way to rig up makeshift earplugs to dull out the sobbing. He hated being alone with his thoughts, but fuck if he had to listen to someone else snivel through theirs. 

“Are you ready to go home?” Scharch ventured, looking down at Tora from the top bunk, pillow still dangling from his hands.

Tora opened his eyes and let the small ray of light from the tiny window float towards him, his arm reaching out as if he could touch it.

“Don’t gotta home to go back to.” Tora blinked a few times, adjusting to the brightness of the morning. 

“You know what I mean! You’re getting out of here!” Scharch mused excitedly as he jumped down from his top cot.

The beds in prison weren’t exactly comfortable. However, since not having a bed for most of his life, there wasn’t much difference. Tora could recall the far and few times he had slept on a real bed with pillows and plush ass blankets. Now that was fucking uncomfortable. He would always wake up with a sore neck from pillows being too damn soft. He could always rely on his arm as a pillow. None of that goose-down bullshit. And the ground, it was always hard, always consistent. Mattresses though? They always left his back sore no matter how much the place he stayed at promised a good night's sleep.

Scharch always started the day off with a few stretches, moaning while he bitched about how he couldn’t wait to get back to his bed at home. He hadn’t stopped blabbing about it since day fuckin’ one.

Tora grunted in acknowledgment while Scharch went on another tangent, cracking his back and neck.

“Oi, Tora! Get ya ass up outta bed. It’s time ya leave,” the prison guard Martin called out to him, pulling Tora from his vacant thoughts.

“What time is it?” Tora asked lazily.

“It’s 9:30, now get the fuck up,” Martin replied, his mood obviously foul.

He always hated Martin. The asshole was always out to get him, no matter what. One time, he tried to accuse Tora of sneaking more books from the library. Tora had retorted tersely that Martin was acting out because he wasn’t getting any dick from his favorite prison playmate. Tora wasn’t Martin's little bitch like the pussy Vince was. The other inmates he tolerated and himself had a pet name for Vince- “Vince-cunt”. His real name was Vincent, but the former stuck more than the latter. Vince was always so far up Martin’s ass he could practically be seen waving from the fuckers mouth.

“Yeah, Yeah, Christ. I’m gettin’ up,” Tora muttered as he awkwardly swung his long legs over to the edge of the bed, his hands landing behind him on the mattress pad. As he stood up, he hit his head on the iron bars of the bunk bed.“Godfuckingdammit,” he cursed, then huffed in amusement as his hand caressed the soft spot on top of his head. He wouldn’t miss that at all, another morning ritual that the cell had seen more than once, more than 500 times. When he gathered his pack of cigarettes that he had won in a hand of blackjack a few nights back, he handed one to Scharch, knowing he could be a whiny asshole without nicotine.

Martin opened the cell as Scharch shook Tora’s hand.

“See you on the other side,” Scharch said, grinning like a crocodile with the cigarette twiddling in his other hand.

“See ya, Scharch, and if I were ya, keep the top bunk. Shit gets smelly down here when the other one is tossing bombs down below,” Tora advised as he nodded towards the bunks.

Scharch chuckled low and shook his head as their hands let go. Tora marched behind Martin, leaving his cellmate to his own devices as the iron doors closed behind him one last time.

As Tora was led down the stairs and to the discharge office, a band of others from their cells hooted and hollered in the celebration that Toraki Hara was being released from the prison walls that held him captive. 

Tora had changed significantly, for him at least, since the first time he walked those angry halls. When he’d first arrived, he was furious on a good day. He was very quickly given the title “Tiger of the A block” on the count of how he would stalk through the mess hall or any common area, daring anyone to look in his direction. A couple of times, he had been put on harsh restrictions when someone decided that jabbing him would be a good idea, and he had pounced, holding nothing back.

Now, he was furious on a bad day. If the day was going well, he would be on the edge, teetering between melancholic and content. If the day was going really well, he’d be content and actually make the effort to talk to other people that didn’t annoy the piss out of him. And just like those days, those kinds of people came to him far and few between.

As Tora passed the library one more time, he smiled softly at the one place in the whole fucking prison that gave him a bit of solace. When he was given his rights back, or as much as one could as an inmate, one of the prison guards suggested he check out the selection of books. At first, Tora downright refused. One day it was too hot out in the yard, and he ran out of cigarettes. He found himself admitting maybe it wasn’t the worst idea.

First, it started out small, reading a book in a week, trying to pace himself. Then, the bookkeeper would allow two books at a time. Mostly, he stuck to stories that were straight to the point that didn’t really cater to his imagination, not that he wanted to be in his own head anyways. One day though, a new shipment of used books came in from authors he hadn’t heard of before. Some were poetry, some were short stories, and some were so thick, he had thought it must have been the history of the whole fuckin’ world.

He took a liking to Edgar Allen Poe and his musings. Tora chuckled darkly as he read “The Cask of Amontillado” for the first time. And Tora thought he was getting fucked over? Apparently, this guy was even more screwed than he was.

Then, if he wasn’t switching back and forth between Poe and Dickinson, Tora usually went for the mythical issues of Odysseus written by Homer. As the months went by, his love for literature sky-rocketed. When he wasn’t on a bench press getting rid of internal rage, his nose was in a book, desperately trying to seek out a different world outside his own.

He found an escape from the prison walls in books, even if it was just for a few pages. He didn’t think he would be able to be set free sooner rather than later. It wasn’t until one day, he was so immersed in a new to him book by Louisa May Alcott and her tale of “Little Women” that his life was, yet again, turned upside down.

“Tora, get ya head outta the clouds. We’re here,” Martin said as he opened the doors to the discharge office, gesturing to Tora to move his ass.

Moving through the doors, Tora took a breath, stepping towards freedom he didn't think he’d have for another 20 years. Tora approached the office while Martin stood off to the side.

“Here are your personal belongings along with your ID that you came in with. Also, here is your allowance for your first 2 days of release. The facility has provided a pair of jeans, a plain white shirt, a pair of socks, and the shoes you came here with. After that, you’re on your own, kid,” the discharger said while he slid a few items under an insert of a bulletproof window.

Tora scoffed as he took the contents; a wallet, a simple black lighter, his old cell phone, the same clothes, and his chucks along with his green hoodie he hadn’t seen since the day he was hauled off in handcuffs from his shitty apartment.

“Pfft, keep ya fuckin’ money. Don’t want it. Been on my own since I was 12, anyways,” Tora muttered, placing his wallet in his back pocket.

“What about transportation? That money is supposed to help with–”

 
“I’ll walk. I’ve been sitting still for the last five and a half years. Like I said, keep the fuckin’ money,” Tora snapped, unfolding the hoodie to examine his old friend. It looked like it had seen better days, much like him. The material was still holding up, but there were parts of it that were tattered. 

“Ok, sign these papers where I have them highlighted for you. Once you’re done, Martin will walk you out. Do you want to change back into your street clothes?” 

Tora nodded as he bent down to sign his name in 5 different spots. Well, he signed with a capital T followed by a few scribbles. His handwriting was shit and he never bothered to actually give a fuck. If he could read, he could get by. Tora could use his words if he absolutely needed to if it didn’t require a pen and paper. With the last drop of ink to the paper, Tora shoved it back under the window.

“And with that, Toraki Hara, move through those doors, the bathroom is to your right, and you may change in there. After that, all the best. Here’s your certification of release,” the discharge secretary said, head down, looking at the paperwork as if he was a broken record, speaking words he had said over a thousand times.

It was strange talking to someone on the outside. Besides Cordelia and a few journalists who interviewed him the day evidence contradicted his dealings in a murder case, he didn’t get visitors. It’s not like he had many people he could turn to anyways, with the exception of Old Alice, whom he worked with in his teens. But. even back then, the old bat was going senile and would forget his name from time to time.

“Thanks,” Tora muttered, looking at the piece of paper that stated he wasn’t just a number anymore. He then looked to Martin to lead the way. 

Martin rolled his eyes as he pushed himself off the wall he had been inhabiting. Martin led them through another set of doors, another barricade between him, and walked as free as society would grant him.

Tora took in the lobby of the prison. It was like he was drifting backward. He was brought in through it all those years ago and was led upstairs to his cell as a man accused of a murder he didn’t try to commit in the first place. The people of the world had deemed him as an unsafe person, and while he couldn’t contest that part, he sure as fuck wasn’t a murderer.

“Ya got 10 minutes. Hurry the fuck up. Discard your prison wear in the folding bucket on the wall when ya out of it,” Martin sneered, pointing at the bathroom.

Tora sauntered off and opened the bathroom door, locked it, and started changing. He briefly looked in the mirror by the sink and took notice of the wear and tear the years of being here had brought him. The mirror in that bathroom was less opaque than the ones he had been looking into since arriving. Where his eyes were tempestuous and bright all of those years back, they were worn down now with the passing of time; much like a fading ember of a flame that once burned brightly.

When he shucked out his orange jumpsuit and let it pool to the floor, it was like he was shedding a second skin. He never liked the color on him anyways. Next, he took the jumpsuit and placed it in the open bucket that was attached to the wall, and pushed it in.

He took the plain clothes he was given and welcomed the feel of cotton and jeans. The way the fabric moved with his body instead of against him was just another reminder of how fucked up he must be in the head if something as simple as this brought him comfort. Next, he put on his hoodie or at least tried to. To his dismay, it didn’t fit him anymore. His rage over the last five years manifested in habitually working out t. Between the mass of new muscle and a bit of a growth spurt since landing in jail, the hoodie just didn’t work. But it meant too much to him to discard it. He took it off and draped it over his arm.

Tora came outside the bathroom and settled on a chair, and Martin was tapping his foot impatiently. 

Martin could go fuck himself. 

He put on his socks and his old chucks. Fuck, those hardly fit him anymore, too. It was gonna be a bitch walking in them. Fuck it; he wouldn’t lace them up.

Tora stood, and Martin nodded to the door.

“Walk straight out; the guards will let ya out when ya show them your prison release papers. There’s a travel station about 5 miles up the road going towards Narin City,” Martin advised lazily. 

He looked up at the clock in the lobby, it was 11:30 AM.

Tora nodded, feeling around for his lighter and his pack of cigarettes. He pushed through the doors as he lit up. Taking a drag of his cigarette once he stepped out into the sunshine, he was finally breathing the air of a free man.

The day was perfect. The sun was shining through the wisps of clouds and the smell of last night's rain storm was on the breeze. He looked over to his left to bid farewell to the fence that teased him for all those years. His gaze flitted to the right of the guard tower that kept a watch on desperate attempts of the other men like that tower in the book about Middle Earth. Ahead of him was the last and final partition between a life lost and a life gained.

Once Tora reached the end of the sidewalk, he reached up to show his prison release papers that he had stuck, rolled in his back pocket. One of the guards nodded and opened the gate,  gesturing for Tora to take his leave. As he stepped out, his throat got tight, and tears started to trickle down. 

He took a drag, taking steps towards the unknown, just like the rest of his god-forsaken life.

    Poppy

“Poppy! Rise and shine! It’s a beautiful day, and you have an interview to prepare for!” Poppy heard her overly enthusiastic roommate Erdene yell.

Moaning and turning over in her bed as the light breeze cascaded in from her window, she opened one eye to look at the time. 9:30 AM.

Today was her interview for a teaching position at Ulaan Academy, a high school where Erdene worked as an art teacher. 

Poppy had come to Narin City just over two weeks ago from a small town called Moonbright. When she first met Erdene, she was skeptical that living together would work out. They seemed like such polar opposites. But Poppy was desperate to find a roommate, and she had found Erdene’s listing on a Narin City posting website. She didn’t want to stay in Moonbright as it was. Even though the land was so open and the air was always smelling of strawberries in the summer, she could never shake the feeling of being trapped. 

Her mother left when she was just a little girl. Then her father passed away when she was still in high school, and then her granny two years into college. There was nothing in that small town to keep her from staying. 

She always had her nose in a book, whether from studying for finals or reading her worn-down copy of Louisa May Alcott’s tale of “Little Women.” She was determined to find a way out. After visiting a few times, she had always wanted to live in the city. Sure, the streets were cramped, and the air may not have been as clear, but no one knew her there. She didn’t need to deal with nosy neighbors asking her how she was doing after losing so many in her life.

She did not thrive off the pity of others. No, it did the very opposite. She wanted to move forward, not dwell in the past. Whenever someone asked her about it, she felt like she was being chained and forced into a box she never wanted to be in in the first place.

Of course she was still hurt that her mother had abandoned her as a child and that the remainder of her family was no longer around. But goodness, did she have to relive it every single day?

Poppy rolled back over and fluttered her eyes open, welcoming the delicate ray of sunshine passing through the clouds. Last night's rain storm had cleared but was still on the current, making Poppy hum in delight. She rolled onto her back and looked at the English ivy plant she had placed on a shelf on her wall.

Content with the greeting that morning had offered her, she bunched up her pale pink comforter and pulled it closer to her. She closed her eyes and moaned in delight as she stretched her legs from under the dressing of her blanket and sheets.

“Poppylan! Get your booty out of bed, babe! You’re going to be late!” She heard Erdene yell again from down the hall.

Poppy opened her eyes and looked at her plant again before saying, “I should get up, shouldn’t I?” As if the breeze was tuned in to the timing, a strong gust blew into her room, making the ivy leaves swirl in a fit.

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Fine! I got the hint,” she mused as she sat up and swung her legs over and down, her feet landing on the plush rug that Erdene insisted Poppy buy. 

It was a few days ago when they went on an excursion for better room decor. When Poppy had rolled up with just a few pieces of furniture in a small moving van a few weeks ago, Erdene almost ruined her first day by arching a brow and asking,“That was it?” When Poppy sputtered about only having enough money for rent for the first few months along with necessities, Erdene receded, apologizing for coming off so snobby.

It took a few days, but Poppy and Erdene fell into an easy friendship. She even told Poppy to call her “Dene”.  Erdene also offered to take her shopping to help spruce up her room. She didn’t think there was anything wrong with her room, but Erdene had brought up a point of “starting over fresh,” to which she said, “I’ll pick out the pieces, but you’re paying for it.” Making Erdene smile and practically shoving Poppy in the car to look at vintage shops all over town.

When it came to being her roommate, Erdene told Poppy that she liked her already. Her old roommate, Candy, was such a stark, raving bitch that she didn't know how she had let her stay for so long.

When they came home that day, Erdene’s car was filled to the brim with decor, with more on the way. Poppy’s room was made over to have a plush cream-colored quilted headboard, an ottoman at the foot of her bed, and a vintage mirror that stretched from the bottom of the baseboard to two feet past Poppy’s head. It was gold and had charming golden leaves at the top.

Erdene had also insisted Poppy get a small chandelier for her room. Poppy snorted, but Erdene ended up buying it anyway. It took her all of thirty minutes and standing on the highest step on the ladder, but she had mantled it. At first, she thought it looked ridiculous, but when the sunlight hit just right, a ray of brilliant colors scattered around her room.

That morning was no different, the sun creating prisms with one catching on the tendrils of her ivy plant. Poppy wandered over to her door and down the hallway where the kitchen was. Erdene was standing in there, sipping on a cup of coffee.

“Bout time you wake up. Girl, your interview is at 11. You can’t be late! Do you know what you’re going to wear? Oooh, what about that cute little number we bought you the other day? You know, the floral print blazer and those peach-colored pants that accentuate your thick peach of an ass? Ugh, what I would give to have your ass.”

Poppy waited for her friend to finish her string of words, moving to the coffee machine. Poppy nodded and replied, “Yeah, I think that's a good idea. I think that would make a good professional first impression; the principal seems to be kind of cranky. I wouldn’t want to make him regret interviewing me.”

Erdene cackled, “Oh yeah, that’s Mr. Lam. He’s an old fart, but he means well. He runs a tight ship, but it’s a really good school, and he intends to keep it that way. He has defended me on more than one occasion when the parents were “outraged” for having an art teacher who had an artful appearance.”

Poppy knew what Erdene had meant. The girl had pastel ombre hair that went from a brilliant teal to a soft pastel purple. She also had light blue eyes up against olive-hued skin. She was not just an art teacher; she was art on legs.

Poppy smiled at Erdene as she poured coffee into her mug. She walked back into her room and looked over her closet of clothes. She then hopped into the shower and turned it on after shedding off her white cotton nightie and letting it pool to the floor. Her hair was pinned up, and her nerves came and went as the smell of her lavender and honey body wash trickled through her nose.

After a few minutes, she turned off the water and toed out of the shower, grabbing her towel. She wrapped it around her body and turned on her radio to listen to music while getting ready.

“On today’s Suns Up in Narin City, we have reports that Toraki Hara, the man who was accused of attempted murder, is getting ready for”

“Ugh where is the music?” she sighed as she turned the radio to a different station. She used to love listening to the radio, but in the city, there were always more commercials and news instead of just music. Poppy looked at her phone and turned on her “Why Be Moody” playlist, the same songs she played on repeat like a broken record. She should really find new music.

Poppy moved over to her closet and pulled down her outfit; the floral blazer along with the orange pants and a soft pink tank top. Her eyes moved down to her shoe collection, where her black heels were. She set them on the bed as she moved over to her mirror and her small boutique dresser with all her different makeup and body sprays.

She put on concealer under her eyes and the small blemishes on her face. She moved on to some powder, a bit of blush, and some highlighter to accentuate her cheekbones. Next, she put on a touch of gold tint eyeshadow on her lids and topped it off with mascara.

She went back to her clothes and put the pieces of orange on before flattening the fabric to her body like a second skin. She had to hand it to Erdene; the girl really knew how to shop. Who knew orange was her color?  She put on her shoes and winced at how tight they were at the back. It was going to be a pain in the butt to walk around with them, but it wasn't like she could wear them any differently.

Glancing at the time, it was now 10:30, and she had to get going. Grabbing her purse and credentials, Poppy came out of her bedroom and met with Erdene, who was waiting in the kitchen.

“Damn, Pops! You look amazing!” Erdene chirped.

“Ugh, don’t call me that,”

“What? Amazing? You’re really bad at–” Erdene started before Poppy cut her off.

“No, I mean Pops , don't call me that. I actually hate that name, and for whatever reason, people still call me that. Don't feel bad; you didn’t know,” she reasoned with a soft smile.

Erdene smiled and said, “No Pops, got it! Now come on! You have an interview to get to!” The taller girl glided to the front door, and Poppy followed her. They got to the apartment garage and got into Erdene’s car before making e their way to Ulaan Academy.

On the way there, Erdene talked about the different teachers. There was Gyu. He was the computer elective teacher she swore could hack into anything. But those were just rumors. There was Shing Ma, who taught anything from basic algebra to advanced calculus. Then, there was Claude, he was the PE teacher and the boy's wrestling coach. Then, there was Smithy. He taught world history, but she laughed and said his version of world history always seemed a little off. 

Then she excitedly talked about a science teacher whom she hinted at having a thing for. And even though he was a science teacher, he usually just went on about astrology. His name was Damien, but he had the nickname “Pinky” because one day at a high school benefit, he lost a bet and had to get his hair spray-painted pink. Then there was Brian. He was the guidance counselor and always said stuff that belonged in a poorly written fortune cookie.

Then there was Quincy B. He was the drama teacher and his mother, Ghoa, owned the property Ulaan High was built on.

Poppy giggled, listening to the list of different teachers until Erdene landed on an economics and agriculture teacher named Julri. He was a jerk, and it would be good not to even blink in that creep's direction. Erdene placed her perfectly manicured hand on hers and said “Don't worry, girl. No one likes that asshole. Everyone is pretty decent, and if they see him bothering you, they’ll kill him.” 

When they pulled up to the school, Erdene parked and gave Poppy a friendly smile. “Go in there and knock him dead, kid. You’ll do great! Call me when you're done. I’ll be at the coffee shop working on my syllabus for this year.”

“Thanks, Dene. I appreciate it,” she said in return before heaving herself out of the car.

The building was absolutely immaculate. It looked like it had been placed from a different point in time, like the Victorian age, with how many towers and turrets there were.

It had a slightly eroded brick exterior that boasted earth-toned bricks ranging from a harsh amber to a soft poppy red. She brushed her hand against the two types of stone as she approached the building. It made her smile softly since both appeared so different from far away. However, looking deeper, both were flawed, no doubt, but still had an undeniable beauty and purpose.

Pressing towards the door, Poppy smiled as she grasped the handle. She pushed through the barrier and gripped her purse tighter, excited to walk through halls with so much history. 

Her heels clacked against the wooden floors as she made her way up to the secretary’s desk. Before Poppy could speak, the woman at the desk whose plate said “Audrey-School Secretary” spoke.

“How can I help you?” the woman asked.

“Oh. My name is Poppylan Wilkes, I’m here for an interview with Mr. Lam for the English Teacher position,” Poppy advised.

Audrey raised an eyebrow and did a once over at Poppy, who was trying her best to hide how nervous she was.

“Have a seat. He’ll be with you shortly.”

Poppy turned to her left, where there was a row of chairs.

“I have Poppy Wilkes here for the interv–yes sir right away.” Poppy heard Audrey speak before the clack of a phone hit the receiver.

“Ma’am, walk in through those doors, and Mr. Lam will be on your 1st door on the left,” Audrey explained, pointing towards the double doors while sounding like a broken record, less than enthused for the bright-eyed fresh-out-of-college graduate.

Poppy continued through the doors where her future lay. Where someone would deem her or deny her as part of this society. When she stepped in front of Mr. Lam's office, she knocked lightly, and an older gentleman looked up from his newspaper.

He greeted her with a warm smile and said, “Come in, Poppylan. I’ve been expecting you. Please have a seat.”

Poppy went over to him and offered a handshake. He smiled and took her credentials.

“Well, on time and dressed professionally for this interview, you already have my attention. Instead of going on about myself and my history with education, let's talk about you and your fascination with literature. Why did you choose to become an educator?” Mr. Lam asked.

Poppy was elated that he was taking her seriously. “Well, growing up, I lived in a small town where nothing ever really happened. I went to the library one day when I was about 10 and I wandered around until it was time for it to close. I became entranced at the world that these storytellers offered. It was an escape, really. When I was bored on summer days, I would go down by the river and read. When it was cold in the dead of winter, I would read as the fire roared. I was in the comfort of my own home but off in a faraway place where adventure waited for me with the flick of a page,” she explained with a passion, moving closer to the edge of her seat.

“Well, Miss. Poppy, while we do have an outline of a syllabus, I’m sure we can work with you and your love of literature. Tell me, who is your favorite author?” Mr. Lam asked, his hands folded as he leaned back in his chair.

“I don't even know where to begin. I love how Edgar Allen Poe is so brilliant with his despair and his dark imagination. “The Cask of Amontillado” made me cringe when Fortunato had his fate sealed, literally. But also his other works, you can feel his words down into the very depths of your soul.”

He chuckled. “Ah yes, I remember when I read that story. I was just a young lad. Tell me, why do you think you should work for Ulaan Academy? What can you bring that others can't? You’re fresh out of college so your experience is less than what I am looking for.”

She took a deep breath. “I understand what you mean, Mr. Lam. While I appreciate your opinion on the matter of my lack of experience, I would hope you can agree that my passion and my persistence as seen before you with my credentials, years don’t always bring you wisdom, sir. I didn’t continue to go to school just to pass the time. If you choose me as this next year's English teacher, I promise you, you won't regret it. Just please, don’t pass me off before I even get a chance to begin.”

Mr. Lam pressed his glasses up his nose and a small smile landed on his face. He was an older gentleman, most likely in his early 60s and from the smile he kept on his face, she could tell the lines that formed with the expression wouldn't go away easily with his face relaxed.

“Ok, Miss. Poppy. I will give you a chance. As you know, the school year starts in two weeks. I will be holding an orientation for all new staff in one week's time. If you are as passionate about literature as you say you are, you won't have any problems inspiring the future generations of scholars that pass through these hallways,” Mr. Lam explained while Poppy smiled radiantly at him, nodding with enthusiasm.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Lam! I won't let you down, I promise! Thank you for giving me this opportunity!” she said, feeling tears trying to escape from her eyes.

“Of course. I believe in you. I’ll walk you out,” he said as he got up from his chair. He was so short! She had to stifle a laugh at the fact that he was as tall as she was but held himself with dignity that made him appear bigger than he actually was.

Mr. Lam led the way and as they crossed through the threshold of Poppy’s new life in the city, he patted her on the arm.

“Miss. Audrey, please see to it that Miss. Poppy is set up for orientation.” He then turned to Poppy and said, “I will see you next week, and welcome to Ulaan Academy. I am pleased to have you.” He turned away and went back through the doors and back into his office.

“Orientation will be next Friday at 4 PM. There will be a tour, refreshments, a FAQ session, a handbook of faculty expectations along with other topics for the evening. You’ll be getting your photo taken and a badge will be given to you before the end of the orientation. Bring your ID. Fill out these forms and have them ready to be handed in when you arrive. Don’t be late,” Audrey said, passing the papers to Poppy, again acting like she had done this a thousand times before.

Poppy took the papers from her hands and stroked the top page with her thumb. “Thank you,” she said at the top of Audrey's head.

“Have a nice day,” Audrey said to her computer.

Excitedly, Poppy took steps towards the front door, heels clacking as if the floor was applauding her. She took out her phone and called up Erdene.“Hey! I’m done! Can you come and get me?”

“Sure. I’ll be right there!” she confirmed.

Poppy went out of the building and waited until Erdene pulled into the parking lot. She hurried over to the car, opened the door, and practically bounced in her seat upon impact.

“So?” Erdene asked, a big grin on her face.

“I got the job!” she squealed as both of them bounced up and down in their seats.

“This is a cause for celebration!” Erdene said, pulling out her phone.

“What time is it?”

“11:30. Are you in the mood for brunch?”

“Absolutely!” Poppy beamed back.

Poppy shut the car door and looked at the steps in front of the building and tears formed in her eyes. 

For the first time in her life in who knew how long, she felt certain this adventure would be amazing.

Chapter Text

Tora

Tora lost track of how long he had been walking, not that time made much of a difference to him anymore. The sun was growing higher in the sky and the cool breeze that was keeping him comfortable was weakening, much like his resolve to keep on his pair of chucks. His feet were screaming at him for relief but his sheer stubbornness demanded he kept pushing forward. 

His long, jet black hair was becoming problematic for him as well. His last hair tie snapped a few nights before when he was irritated and just needed his hair out of the way. Now, the tendrils prolonged his torture as they adamantly clung to his skin. 

The hoodie that was draped over his arm was now knotted around his waist and his old clothes were hanging from around his neck, drooping d over his shoulders.

Squinting, he saw what looked like a large building in the distance. When he looked over his shoulder, the prison was now a small speck of land. Stopping for a moment, as the world continued around him, he set his eyes on a small log off of the road. There was a shaded spot under a row of cherry blossom trees. It was the most inviting scene he had laid his eyes on for miles–for years–that didn’t exist only in his imagination. He hopped over the guard rail and laughed at himself by how good it made him feel to jump over something that resembled a fuckin’ fence. 

Before sitting down, he took his old phone, wallet, lighter, and cigarettes out of his pockets. Then, he laid his clothing materials down on the ground, a makeshift cot now in his possession. 

The day was warm, but being under the drapings of the soft sakura petals and away from the rushing cars, made it manageable. He put his ever faithful hoodie against the log and sat propped up. He looked upward and watched as the clouds drifted in the sky with a few petals catching up to join the race on the wind. Lighting up his cigarette and taking a drag, he exhaled steadily as the birds sang above him. As his cigarette hung lazily to the side of his mouth, between his lips, the nicotine filled his bloodstream. He palmed his wallet and took a look inside.

There wasn’t much in it with the exception of his ID that had him sporting short green hair. That made him grimace. Christ, he wished someone was around to tell him that was a horrible color for hair. He moved on to the little pockets of the wallet, trying to see if any money was-–two hundred fuckin’ dollars? How the fuck? His brows narrowed as he tried to recall the day his ass was hauled off to jail as he gripped the cash between his forefinger and his thumb. After dwelling a moment and coming up with nothing, he shrugged lightly and put it back in his wallet, thinking of what the travel station up ahead could bring him with his new found riches.

Taking another drag, he let his eyes slip close. The grumble in his stomach that followed soon after had his attention almost immediately. He thought back to the last time he ate. It was last night’s dinner, if ya could call it that. It was salisbury steak and mashed potatoes, but in reality, it was gray shoe leather and a side of questionable goop. His mouth watered at the thought of the taste of fresh strawberries dipped in velvety whipped cream. Or, hell, even the taste of fresh sushi that old Alice would make him after each shift so he had something to eat for the night. 

Hoisting himself up and yelling “Fuck” loudly at the blisters he could feel forming inside his fuckin’ shoes, he gathered up the meager belongings   he had and stuffed them back into his jeans. He pulled up his hoodie and his other clothes, then  patted them off heartily before rearranging them for the walk ahead. He made his way over to the partition and climbed it easily back onto the road. He took one more step before something exploded in his shoe.

“MOTHER FUCKER!” he yelled before leaning on the edge of the guard rail. A burst of birds came from the tree he was under as the curses echoed through the once peaceful meadow. He took off the shoes that were committing treason whether by his own doing or not, and threw them, letting them land wherever the fuck they wanted to.

Suddenly, as if things couldn’t get any fuckin’ worse, he turned from his fit of fury and noticed a car coming up behind him, slowing down. It stopped in front of him as he heaved, hands on his thighs, trying to catch a few steady breaths.

Looked like an old person's car like a Buick LaSabre or some shit like that. The windows were slightly tinted and the paint was gold. Kind of like some of the guys had on their teeth in prison. The kind of guys who would gesture slittin’ ya throat if ya looked at them funny but would cry at the drop of a fuckin’ hat whenever their ma sent them fuckin’ cookies.

A fat ass white guy came out of the car. His hair was brown and he was tall too, but not as tall as Tora. Something about his face looked familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Hey, kid, are ya ok?” he asked timidly, stepping towards Tora. The dumb mother fucker must’ve had no sense of self-preservation.

“DO I FUCKIN’ LOOK OK TO YA?” Tora spat as he gestured wildly around at his current situation. 

Christ, what he would give to have a fuckin’ hairtie that moment.

“Take it easy. Just tryin’ to help. Ya look like ya been through some–” The man stopped mid stride as Tora let go of his thighs and stood straight up. Now, incandescent golden eyes met soft chocolate eyes.

“Look, kid, I don’t want no trouble,” the guy sputtered, retreating back to his car.

“The fuck? I’m not gonna fuckin’ hurt y,.” Tora sneered.

The guy wasn’t sayin’ nothin. It all clicked in Tora’s head a moment later.

“Ya recognize me, don’t ya? Convicted of havin’ dealin’s with a murder. Just got out today after being deemed innocent, ” Tora said, whipping out another cigarette and lighting it up.

When he took a drag and blew it to the side, he felt himself calm down and his body relaxed as he leaned up the guard rail. He placed the hand that wasn’t holding his cigarette and lifted it to his forehead in an attempt to shield his eyes from the sun. With Tora’s body language more open, the guy in front of him, who looked like he was about to shit himself, relaxed visibly as well.

“You walked all the way from over there?” the guy said, pointing in the direction of the prison in the distance behind them both.

Tora nodded as he took another drag then exhaled, letting the smoke escape from his lungs.

“Ya got anywhere that you’re goin in particular or ya just walkin until you hit the end of the line?” the guy asked seriously.

“What’s it to ya? Ya lonely? Ya wanna friend? Trust me pal, ya don’t want me ‘round, kay?” Tora scoffed as he turned his head in the other direction, looking towards the travel station in the distance.

As soon as Tora’s head turned direction, the man’s tone turned as well.

“Look, kid, don’t be a little shit. I ain’t lookin for a friend. I saw ya throwin’ a bitch fit here on the side of the road lookin’ like a fuckin pack mule gone crazy. If ya don’t want help, fine. But from the looks of it, ya need the help,” the man snapped back, making Tora’s head whip around.

 Christ, he was such an asshole. 

This guy was just trying to offer help and Tora shit all over it. He wasn’t wrong though. No one ever wanted him around. Not since he was 12. Now that he thought about it, probably before then, too. He saw the looks his ma gave him before she hit the bottle every night. The look on his dad's face too before he disappeared when he was 5. Tora doubted she cried when he didn’t return home from school after being taken by some assholes in suits and sent off to foster care. 

She probably felt relieved that she didn’t have to deal with a shit stain of a son anymore.

Tora took his hand and rubbed it down his face, taking the now finished cigarette and stubbing it out on the guardrail. 

“I ain't goin’ nowhere in particular but can ya at least get me to that gas station?” Tora asked, nodding at the building up ahead.

The man chuckled and shook his head in amusement. “You’re a real piece of work, kid. Sure, get ya shit and get in the car.”

Tora bundled up his stuff and walked over to the passenger side. Opening the car door, he sat on the seat and kept his items in his lap. Then, the other guy, who’s name Tora still didn’t have, got on the driver's side, and shut his door before putting on his seat belt. The guy gave Tora a pointed look, to which Tora rolled his eyes and put on his seatbelt too. 

Fuck, still being given orders despite no longer being on the inside.

Tora looked at the man’s hand as it gripped the steering wheel. There was a silver ring on his middle finger, not his ring finger. Tora wanted to ask, but he didn’t even know the guys name for fucks sake. Letting his eyes slip close once again, he and the guy rode in a comfortable silence up the road.

The car came to a stop and the guy who gave him a lift said, “OK, This is you. Ya sure this is as far as ya need to go?”

Tora opened his eyes and saw a huge sign outlined with yellow and said in black bold letters, “Narin City’s Finest Fuel, Food and Gifts” with a building in front of him, mirroring the same words.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m just gonna grab a backpack, some more smokes and sandals if they have any,” Tora said, getting ready to open the door.

“Alright kid, suit ya’self,” the guy said with a pained look.

Tora opened the door, heaved himself up along with his items, planted his socked feet on the asphalt and before he shut it, he bent down to thank the good samaritan.

“Thanks for the ride…um…” Tora awkwardly trailed off, hoping the guy would get the hint and provide a name.

The guy chuckled. “Joe,” he supplied, his look changing from morose to warm.

He nodded, “Thanks Joe.” and smirked before shutting the door.

Joe rolled down his window, and pulled a piece of paper out from his dashboard along with a pen. He scribbled something down on it, handed it over and said, “If ya ever need help, take my number. I’ll be around.” Tora took the paper without the intention of actually using it, but put it in his pocket anyway.

“Thanks again,” Tora said as Joe simply smiled back and rolled up the window.

Tora stood for a moment as Joe waved briefly, putting the car in reverse and continued onto his next destination. He looked at his surroundings. In front of him were multiple rows of gas pumps against the Narin Mountain Range. To his left, there were a few trash cans, a bike rack and a few people shuffling in and out of their cars. To his right, along a wall, there was a newspaper stand, an outdoor ashtray, and more trash cans.

When he turned around, he saw the building that promised food and a gift shop. He looked at a sign that said “No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service” He looked at his feet that only had socks on and cursed at himself, he should have just kept his fuckin’ shoes. But no, of course he ended up chuckin’ his chucks. Well, at least he wasn’t completely barefoot and he still had his shirt on. 

As he moved through the automatic doors, Tora’s nose was bombarded with all sorts of smells while his eyes grew wide at the never ending selection of different goods. His eyes flitted to the left where there was an entrance to a small cafe. His mouth started to water as his nose led him in the direction where non-prison food was. 

As he entered the little cafe, an older woman came over to him. She had a basic white apron on her waist, a pad and a pen in her hand and a whole lot of attitude nestled on her wrinkled face. 

“Sit wherever ya want. Menus are at the table. We got brunch going until two. It’s 1:30 right now so if ya want mimosa’s ya best get to it,” she said. 

Tora looked around the diner, most of the tables and booths were taken. One booth was occupied by some girl with hair that looked like a rainbow and a girl with brown hair in a bun whose face he couldn't see.There was an open table next to them. Tora frowned. He didn’t wanna sit by some fuckin’ girls who were probably prattling on about stupid shit.

Along the row of other seats he saw an old married couple who were bitching about whether they were gonna share a meal or not. As he looked on, he saw a row of swiveled chairs against a bar. Normally, he wouldn’t sit on a stool but he was hungry and desperate. He took his chances and planted his ass on the swivel chair and crouched awkwardly at the bar top.

Looking over the plastic menu, there was an interesting selection of foods. His eyes narrowed at the drink menu as he saw “Strawberry Juice” along with different varieties. His eyes wandered to the brunch menu and he saw waffles, pancakes, biscuits and gravy. Christ it was all fuckin’ junk food. He turned the menu over to the other side and there was a small selection of steak and eggs, salads and something called “Chicken Fried Steak”. 

Was it Chicken? Was it Steak?

Settling on the steak and eggs along with strawberry juice, he called the waitress over.

“Oi!” he called out, his manners obviously left at the door.

“Yeah, what can I get ya?” she asked.

“Strawberry juice, steak and eggs and water. Medium for the steak, over easy for the eggs,” Tora said eagerly, pointing at each menu item.

“Anything else?”

“Nah. I’m good.”

All of the sudden he heard a burst of laughter coming from behind him. The rainbow haired girl and the short, no, tiny brunette who had an ass for days were walking out of the diner. He cocked his head to the side as he watched her sway her hips. 

Huh. Orange looked good on her. Well on her ass at least.

Damn. Maybe he should have sat at the table next to them.

“Here’s ya drinks kid. Juice and water. Ya steak and eggs will be up shortly,” the waitress said as she placed his drinks in front of him.

“Oh my god, Dene! I’m not going to do that! ” Tora heard the tiny brunette say through a fit of soft giggles as he took a sip of his juice. 

Fuuuuuck that tasted good. The tart that swirled with the sweet as he took anoth-

“Whatever, girl. I’m just saying, there’s no shame in buying yourself a vibrator…”

Tora choked on the juice as his brain short circuited. The rest of their conversation left his earshot and he tried  to remember how to breathe. Then the waitress showed up and placed the steak and eggs in front of him.

“Here ya go kid,” she said as he cleared his throat, taking the knife and fork into his hands. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled as she smirked at him and left him to his meal.

Tora ripped into the steak and eggs. It was definitely a five star meal in comparison to whatever it actually was he ate the night before. The steak was grilled to perfection, a perfect pink in the middle with the eggs gently laid on top. The yolk cascaded down like a gravy, smothering the rest of his meal. Tora moaned as the food hit his tongue. The pepper grains and the right amount of salt teased his taste buds as he greedily inhaled another bite.

Tora frowned as he looked down at the empty plate that was full not 5 minutes ago and his empty glass of strawberry juice. He looked at his untouched glass of water, very suddenly aware that from all of that walking, salt and smoking, he hadn’t had a glass of water all fuckin’ day. Before he could get a sip though, the waitress came by with the bill.

“Ya want anything else before I hand this to ya?” she asked with a hand on her hip.

“Can ya break these?” Tora asked as he thumbed out his wallet and his two-hundred dollar bills.

“Ok, Sugar. I’ll be right back.”

A few moments later, she returned, handing him an assortment of bills.

“Be safe out there. Oh and while ya at it, there’s some sandals in the gift shop, get yaself some. And if ya need a taxi driver to get to wherever ya goin, my hubby runs a taxi service. Ya can’t miss him. Red hair, black cap, blue car. Probably smokin’ too.”

Tora looked up at her from under his lashes. “How did ya–” he asked as he lifted his mouth from the edge of the glass, gulping down his water.

She snorted before he could get out the rest of his question. “Kid, I’ve been running this damn cafe for years. I know a drifter when I see one. Tell ‘em the wifey sent ya, he’ll take it easy on the fare ok?” 

“Thanks um…” Looking at her tag, it said “Gina.” “Thanks, Gina,” he said awkwardly, still trying to figure out the pleases and thank you’s he had abandoned a long time ago.

She simply winked at him, turned, and walked through a set of double doors.

Tora took a look at the bill and saw that the number 0 was slashed. His eyes shot wide and he couldn’t see the woman anywhere in sight. He didn’t feel right just leaving without so much as a nickel. So, he took one of the 20’s that was part of the two-hundreds and placed it down.

Fuck. That didn’t feel right. He placed another twenty down. He frowned again. He laid a ten down. That was enough, right?

Content that fifty bucks for a zero dollar charge was good enough, he swiveled from his chair and grabbed his belongings. He went over to the gift shop and looked up and down the rows of different items. He settled on a backpack that was green, like his hoodie, that had a canteen hanging from it. He immediately shoved his shit in there and moved on. In the next aisle over, he found sandals that didn’t look like they’d hold up for long, but they were at least better than fuckin’ socks. He ripped the tag off, took off his socks and placed the sandals on his feet. Sure, his heels stuck out just a bit but at least the pads of his feet had some support.

Looking over just past some mugs and shit, there was a bin. It had a sign that said

“Books $20 or less.” He huffed in amusement and started looking at the variety.

A book of someone holding an apple called “Twilight”- PASS

A book of a gray tie “Fifty Shades of Grey”-PASS

A book with some kid and an unfortunate looking lightning bolt scar riding a fuckin’ broom “Harry Potter” PASS

Everything else looked like a kids book. Fuckin’ bullshit.

He meandered over a few aisles down and found the beverage section. Water bottles, juices of almost every flavor, energy drinks among rows and rows of alcohol took up a whole half wall. He opened the cooler and plucked out a few water bottles and a shit ton of strawberry juice. He then nudged the cooler closed with an elbow as he awkwardly walked over to the cash register. When he placed the items down onto the top where the scanner was, the cashier gulped thickly when he realized who was looking back at him.

“Hey look man,” the cashier said as he was backing up, arms raised.

Tora rolled his eyes, the normal feeling he had now gone as the kid looked scared shitless.

“Kid, I ain't gonna hurt ya. I’m just gonna buy this shit and get outta ya hair.” Tora said unamused.

Speaking of hair. Tora spotted a few bundles of hair ties on his left.

“These too,” he murmured, putting them near the rest of his stuff.

When the guy didn’t come any closer, Tora huffed and looked at the different tags he had pulled from each of the items.

Backpack-forty bucks.
Sandals-ten bucks.
Shit ton of beverages-shit…how much were they? He counted, he had 4 waters and 10 juices. Whatever twenty bucks.
Hair Ties- sign said 4 bucks. He grabbed another one and rounded that to ten.

He grabbed four twenties, and placed it on the counter, then, with the exception of the hair tie pack, put the items in his backpack. Heimmediately ripped into it, turned around, and walked out as he pulled up his hair. 

Fuck, he didn’t even get the cigarettes. Whatever, he had enough to get him to the city if Gina’s husband was out there.

To his surprise, the old guy was standing up against his car. Tora recognized the guy right away. Yup, blue car, black cap, and a redhead. He was smokin’ too. Tora approached him steadily, not wanting to give the poor bastard a fuckin’ heart attack like young blood at the cash register.

“Um, excuse me?” Tora said while the old man took a drag.

“Yeah, kid? Need a ride?” the guy asked, letting the smoke drift away This time, when Tora’s amber eyes met another pair of eyes, they were emerald, soft. No hint of fear. No judgment.

“Gina said to tell ya she sent me,” Tora said, his body going from rigid to relaxed.

“Oh yeah? Wifey givin’ out discounts again I see. She give ya free food too?” he chuckled. Tora liked him already. The guy knew his wife like the back of his hand but there was no malice in his tone as the words came out. 

“Anyways, ya gotta place in mind or do I just drop ya off wherever I feel like?” the ginger pulled his cigarette towards his mouth again.

Now that Tora had thought about it, he had NO FUCKING CLUE where he was going next. He looked down at the ground. Staring at the different colors of melted in gum and old tire marks, he was hoping they had the answers. Looking up and then to the side, he saw a sign that said “Fresh Sushi” inside and somehow he doubted that. Who gets sushi from a gas station?

Fuck. That was it.

His head whipped back around to where the ginger was looking at him with a cocked brow.

“Ya know a place? It’s called the Black Swan? Is it still there?” Tora ventured as the guy shook his head yes. “Can ya drop me off there?”

The old man, still nodding, walked over to one of the ashtrays and stubbed out his half finished cigarette and put it back in his pack. “Get in, kid,” he said, opening his door and plopping down on his seat.

Tora opened the back door and slid his backpack in. He then settled himself and shut the door. The taxi driver looked in his rearview mirror and cleared his throat as he buckled himself in. Tora took the hint and put on his seatbelt as well. 

“Next stop Black Swan.”

Tora slid his eyes back closed. Thankfully, this was a longer drive and the guy must have tuned in to how exasperated Tora was feeling. They too drove in a comfortable silence for the most part with a small sound coming from the radio, small hums coming from the man in front.

Before Tora knew it, the car came to a stop.

“OK Kid, we’re here,” the guy said, putting the car in park. Tora opened up one eye and looked to the left of him where the “Black Swan” was looking as prominent as the last time he walked by it.

“How much do I owe ya?” Tora asked, looking at his wallet and the lack of funds he was approaching upon.

“Nah don’t worry about it kid.” 

What was it with these people givin’ shit out for free? First food, then a 15 mile drive out of the way? Must be nice to be able to do shit without having to worry about where ya fuckin’ meal was gonna come from next.

“Hey, kid, I said don't worry. Just take it easy. Be safe.”

“Thanks…um..” Tora ventured again. Fuck, he needed to get better at not gettin’ into cars or taking shit from strangers. He laughed at himself deprecatingly, feeling like a fuckin’ 5 year old who had to be reminded what was safe and what wasn’t.

“Jim. My name is Jim,” he said as Tora subtly pulled out a ten dollar bill from his wallet, intent on slipping it on the center console when he wasn’t looking.

“Thanks, Jim,” he said as he opened his passenger door and slid out, taking his backpack with him. He carefully placed the ten dollar bill on the console, just as he meant to.

“No problem kid,” Jim said as Tora shut the door.

Jim drove off as Tora looked in the opposite direction, a new destination in mind. 

He took a right, then a left into a back alley, the same one he would disappear from the cops all those years ago as a street kid. The same alley where he fell over a cane one day after running from stealing a few apples and a fuckin’ piece of bread. The same alley where he met the old bat, old Alice, as she called herself. The same alley that he used to walk down to work after getting into fist fights and would bleed all over her fuckin’ floor at her sushi joint he used to bus.

It still looked the same. The same stupid fake cherry blossom tree that she insisted on buying one day at a junk sale. The one his ass had to haul from her old beater truck to the front of the store in exchange for a few extra bucks. Said she was feeling generous because she got a good hand at poker the night before.

He went to the door and frowned when he couldn’t get in. He pounded on it a few more times, thinking maybe her hearing went with her memory.

Christ. He’d hoped she remembered him, just enough anyways.

Suddenly, he heard movement.

“Yeah, Yeah, calm ya shit, I’m coming.” He heard a voice say. But it wasn’t Old Alices.

The door opened and Tora’s eyes grew wide. “Joe?”

Chapter Text

“OK, So, I know this place where we can go. It’s a bit outside of the city and at a gas station. But I’ve gone there a few times and their french toast is ah-mazing!” Erdene gushed as she put the car into drive.

Poppy’s eyebrows rose. She was half intrigued and half shocked. Her friend, roommate, and soon to be co-worker, was full of surprises. She didn’t seem to be the type of girl to go to a gas station for food when she would hardly drink a glass of water that didn’t come from a bottle. It almost sent Erdene into panic mode when her and Poppy were at a park and Poppy stopped by a water fountain to get a sip.

Poppy recalled how many times she would drink from the hose every summer during her childhood. Her days were spent outside, scraping her knees, saving bugs from the circle of life, running around with her net trying to catch butterflies but ending up catching leaves in her hair instead. She always turned on the spigot when the sun was high and her energy was low. 

“Well, that sounds tasty,” Poppy admitted. She loved french toast and always had such a hankering for it no matter what time of the day it was. It didn’t matter that it was doused in syrup and whipped cream. It was made with eggs. So, therefore, it had to be somewhat healthy.

“You think we can stop by the apartment first though? My heels are killing me. I just need to grab my sandals,” Poppy asked as she took them off, rubbing her pinky toe and the back of foot that was already sporting a blister in each location.

“Sure thing! I wanna change my clothes anyways. I spilled coffee on my shirt.  What about you?” Erdene asked, looking both ways as they came to a stop sign.

“Ah, no, just my shoes. I really like this outfit,” Poppy said as Erdene nodded and took her turn at the sign.

Poppy turned on the radio, hoping some music would be on.

“This just in, Toraki Hara who was found innocent is now-”

“Man! What is it with the city and never playing music?!” Poppy cried, turning the dial with a rapid succession.

“It’s called bluetooth, babe. If you wanna listen to some music just connect your phone.” Erdene said, gesturing with one hand towards the radio and the other hand still gripping the steering wheel.

Poppy just nodded and watched as the city went by. It really was a gorgeous day and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. She thought back to the last time her dad was having a good day before he left this world for the next. It was a beautiful spring day much like this one. 

Even though he was tired, he had insisted on sitting down below the curtains of soft pink from their cherry blossom tree. They had made a game with the floating petals. Whenever a bunch would fly away, they tried to see which could go the furthest. More often than not, they would lose track of which one was which. However,  just as so, the memories that she had from that last day, she hoped she would never lose sight of. As that was the last day she saw and heard her father laugh without so much as a cough.

“They sure are pretty, aren’t they?” Erdene asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“The cherry blossoms. I always love when they come in,” Erdene said just before they turned into the apartment complex.

“Oh yeah. They are stunning.” She sighed, her gaze trailing out the window as they disappeared from her sight.

Erdene parked. Poppy hoisted herself up from her spot upon opening her door. In one hand she had her purse, in the other, her shoes.

“Girl. I KNOW you’re not walking barefoot on the gross cement,” Erdene said as she rounded from the drivers side and took in the scantily clad feet.

“So what? My feet hurt and the apartment is just down the way.”

“Take a look at the ground though. You’re standing on old gum and who knows what else,” Erdene chided as Poppy rolled her eyes and kept walking. Even though her friend was right, something about walking around barefoot always gave Poppy a boost of serotonin.

“OK, Dene. I’ll be more careful,” she said as they went from the garage to the pathway leading to their apartment.

As they approached the front door, Erdene unlocked it and both of them filed inside. Poppy shut the door behind her and went on the hunt for her sandals while dropping her shoes off in her room. She started throwing around the clothes that she had scattered around the floor before laying herself down to look under her bed. She couldn’t find them anywhere!

Heaving herself up and blowing her bangs out of her face, she looked around at the tornado she had created in no less than five minutes.

“MOTHER FUDGER!!”  Poppy yelled at her English ivy that was minding its own business.

“Girl what on–” Erdene came into Poppy’s room. Her hand was covering her mouth, eyes wide, and trying desperately to stifle a laughter. 

Poppy was panting from the sheer frustration of not being able to find her sandals and now had a mess to clean up. “I can’t find my gosh darn sandals!” 

“Sooooo, does that mean you’re not ready?” Erdene asked cautiously, her words came out distorted since her mouth was still covered by her hand.

“DO I LOOK READY?!” she screeched as she gestured wildly around at her current situation.

“Shit Poppy. Calm your tits. They’ve gotta be around here somewhere,” Erdene scolded her friend in feint as she giggled. “Where were they the last time you saw them?” She came inside, closing the door, and they both saw the hot topic of discussion nestled between the wall and where the door was.

“Oh,” They said in unison. Erdene picked them up and shot Poppy a sly smile.

“Found them,” she said as Poppy held out her hands to receive her sandals. 

“Thanks Dene. Sorry for yelling at you,” she said, sitting on her bed to put on her sandals.

“Ah don’t worry about it. I was laughing at you so it kind of balances everything out,” Erdene offered as she stood in the doorway, leaning onto the door jamb.

Poppy slipped on her sandals and hoisted herself up from her bed. She went over to her mirror to inspect herself one last time. She re-shaped her clothes, trying to re-shape her dignity in the process as well. “I really do like this outfit,” she thought to herself as she looked into the mirror and at her behind.

“Come on, let's get going. I’m starving!” Erdene said as she waved her hand, gesturing to Poppy’s door.

Poppy pranced behind Erdene, grabbed her purse, and they left the apartment. When they got nestled into the car, Erdene pulled her phone from her purse.

“OK. I have a few music lists. One of them is my lazy morning indie pop, the other one is my road trip list with all of the classic fun songs or we can listen to a pod-cast. My favorite one is about murders. What sounds good to you?” Erdene asked before turning on the car.

“Well, I do love Indie Pop! And it seems relaxing. I’m not quite ready to listen to a murder podcast but maybe we can listen to it tonight. You know, have a girls night in, listen to a good story, eat junk food and paint our nails. How does that sound?” she offered.

“Yes, bitch! Ugh I love the way you think. And why is listening to murder stories so damn relaxing before bed?! Oh, but this one tonight might not be so relaxing. Apparently, it’s about this guy from Narin City! He’s been at the prison outside of town for the past, like, I think almost 6 years. Isn’t that crazy?” Erdene asked as she turned on the car and flipped the music source to bluetooth.

Before Poppy could voice her opinion, the musical musings of Lana Del Rey floated through the speakers. Erdene had it loud enough to hear it in the background but low enough so they could talk.

“So are you excited?” Erdene asked as she put the car into drive.

“Yeah! I love french toast and–” Poppy was cut off as she started laughing at her.

“No, not about that. I mean about your new job! You’re going to love it! We didn’t really talk about how it went just that you got it! Anything you wanna know?!” Erdene asked as they peeled out of the garage.

“Oh well, Mr. Lam said something about how the syllabus is given to us. But didn’t you say that you were working on yours?”

“Ah, you’re right. Well, within the arts program, there’s a bit more leniency because even though its education, Ms. Balthuman, Ghoa, owns the property. Apparently, a few years ago, when her son, Quincey became the theater instructor, Him and Mr. Lam butted heads. Mr. Lam accused Quincey of being a diva because he wanted to write his own script but Mr. Lam said it was out of the question,” she said as she snorted at the last part.

“So, then what happened?” she asked as they hit the highway.

“Ghoa paid Mr. Lam a visit. It did not go very well and she demanded that the arts be taken more seriously and the department be given more freedoms. And that if he didn’t, she would be forced to do something she really didn't want to do.”

“Like what?

“I have no clue! But because of that outburst of Quincey’s, while the art programs have more liberties, the other subjects kind of got the shaft. It’s been this way for a few years now. Everyone just does their job how they're supposed to and that makes Mr. Lam's high school run smoothly.”

Poppy frowned. That seemed terribly unfair. What on earth did she sign up for? Maybe the school should be changed from “Ulaan Academy” to “Nepotism High”.

Poppy and Erdene chatted the whole way to their breakfast destination. The drive wasn’t very long, since Erdene tended to drive like a bat out of hell. The further they got from the city and away from the buildings that reached the sky, the more it turned into Moonbright. Her heart clenched in a bittersweet pain. The hills were rolling with lush green grass. The cherry blossom trees were spread out and looked like low hanging cotton candy clouds. Poppy rolled down the window and let the smell of spring tickle her nose.

“Look over there!” Erdene said, pointing out the window.

Poppy squinted, not quite sure what she was looking for. It was hard to see past the trees.

“If you look really hard, you can see the prison!” Erdene said as they came upon the gas station for their brunch date.

Poppy gulped thickly, Erdenes words doing little to impress her.

“The same prison you said that guy was at?”

“Poppy, you need to chill, babe. It’s FINE. No one is going to hurt you. Just relax, pound a mimosa or two and just go with the flow. You have been uptight all day,” Erdene reprimanded.


Poppy supposed she was right. She had been a little wound up and she had no idea why. She got a position at Ulaan Academy, had a great new room set up, a new friend in the city, and had moved out on her own. She was doing everything that she said she was going to do. Yet, for whatever reason, she felt like there was one more thing that she needed and it bothered her that she couldn't even put her finger on it.

“Ugh. I’m sorry. You’re right. I don't know what's wrong with me! It’s not like this prisoner guy is gonna escape and come try to sweep me off of my feet,” Poppy giggled as they turned into the gas station.

“You just need carbs and alcohol. Don’t worry, girl, Gina will take care of us,” Erdene said as they parked at the entrance.

“Gina?” Poppy asked as she saw the sign that said “Narin City’s Finest Fuel, Food and Gifts.”

“Yeah, she runs the diner. Really sweet older lady. Has red hair and a ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude. She’s great. Also, her hubby, Jim, takes the drifters that come in here every once in a while and takes them to where they need to go. Really sweet couple. Are you ready for the best french toast? Because I am! Let's go, Miss. Grumpy pants!” she said with a wide smile, turning off the car.

Poppy rolled her eyes at the not so endearing nickname and hoped she wouldn’t be held accountable for her morning mood all day. She opened the car door, grabbed her purse, and slid out. She joined Erdene who was almost to the front door. 

When they walked through the automatic doors, Erdene hooked her elbow with Poppy’s and led the way from the entrance to the little diner. From what Poppy gathered, the waitress at the bar who was yelling at the short order cook, who had red hair was in fact, Gina.

“I said french toast not french dip with roast. What the hell is this?!” she heard Gina reprimand.

“Is that–'' Poppy started before Erdene cut her off, pointing at the surly redhead.

“Yep. That’s Gina. Come on. Let's take a seat. I usually like the booth over in the corner, it’s more private and we can talk about whatever we want.”

Erdene dragged Poppy further into the diner, past a few rows of tables, past an old jukebox player and another table before fixing themselves at the booth. Poppy scooted in and took a look around as much as she could. The walls had a bunch of old license plates and pictures of celebrities with autographs. She laughed when she noticed a singing trout much like what her dad used to have.

The tables were a bit wobbly and worn down, but the structure was still sound. The table clothes were hideous, a checkered blue and white with chickens as salt and pepper shakers. There was a clock at the top of the bar wall of a black and white cat that whenever the clock would tick in seconds, his eyes and tail would play to keep up.

It was the least sophisticated place she had ever been, but if Erdene kept coming back, Poppy thought to give it a chance before completely shutting the place down.

The menus were at the end of the booth and Erdene handed one to Poppy. Surveying it on both sides, she scoffed at the steak and eggs. How anyone could eat that as a breakfast dish was a mystery to her. She flipped it over and saw the french toast that she had been coveting for the past hour. Her eyes drifted down and saw the section for drinks.

Cranberry, Orange, Grapefruit, Kiwi, Strawberry Mimosas. They all sounded so good.

“What are you gonna get?” Poppy asked casually.

“Duh! I’m gonna get a mimosa and french toast! Oh and if you want, we can split the hash browns. It’s a full plate of carbs, grease and potatoes. Perfect for countering the alcohol,” Erdene pointed out.

“OOOH! That does sound really good. OK yeah. Let's do it. Are you going to get the regular mimosa? I want to try the strawberry one.” 

“OOOH, that is a good one! I’ve had them a few times. But I’m just in the mood for orange!” 

“Why hello, Erdene! How are you? Who’s your friend?”

Poppy looked up from her menu and to her right where Gina was now planted before them.

“Hey, Gina! This is my roommate and good friend, Poppy. She just moved here and she got a job at the school that I work at.”

Before Poppy could speak, Gina looked at Poppy and asked, “Oh, and what position did you get dear?”

Poppy opened her mouth, and just after taking a breath, Erdene chimed in, “Oh, she’s going to be a literature teacher. You should see her book collection. She had two whole boxes filled to the brim with books!”

“Is that so?” Gina asked Erdene, the spokesperson for Poppy.

“Yes. Oh my god. And some of the books, well, let's just say, she doesn’t exactly show those off,” Erdene said, shooting a wink to Gina.

“I’m gonna get the french toast and the strawberry mimosa!” Poppy blurted out.

Erdene and Gina both looked at her like she was growing another head.

“And it’s nice to meet you, Gina! Dene told me about you and your husband. How long have you been running this place?” Poppy asked with a smile.

“Oh, probably since before we were in--” Erdene started before Gina took the reins.

“A long time, darling,” Gina said, turning her attention to her notepad and pen. “Now, Erdene, what would you like to eat?”

“Same as Poppy, but make mine just an orange mimosa.” Erdene said, laying down her menu and sliding it back down the table.

“Got it, two french toasts, one strawberry and one orange mimosa. Anything else?”

“Oh! Hash Browns!” Poppy squeaked.

“Hash browns. Got it. You ladies give me a few moments and I’ll be back with those.”

“Hey Gina, Turn on the television would ya?” they heard an older man yell.

“Give me a second, Joe. Gotta run this order back.” Gina left and came back with the mimosa’s and placed them on the table. “Drink up, ladies!” she said as she whipped a remote control out of her pocket and turned on the TV.

“Good Afternoon, Narin City! In today’s top story, we have reports that the murder suspect who was found innocent after nearly six years in prison has been released. Tor–”

“Ah man. Signal went out again. Gina, when are ya gonna convince Jim to switch over to real cable instead of those bunny ears?”

Poppy and Erdene sipped on their mimosa’s as the world around them fluttered by.

“Oh my god. This is delicious!” Poppy said as her eyes widened with her lips on the fluted glass. The way the bubbles tickled her nose and the tart mixed with the sweet made her want to order another one.

“Right?! See, I told you!” Erdene laughed as she took another greedy sip. “When is your orientation? Next Friday, right?”

“Um, yeah, next Friday. Mr. Lam said that it's for all new teachers. Do you know of anyone else who got a teaching position this year?” Poppy asked.

“Hmmm…not that I can think of. But that’s perfect. I’m going to take you shopping for more clothes! And--” Erdene was cut off by Poppy, who raised her hand, signaling silence was needed.

“Dene. I appreciate it. I really do. But you can’t keep buying me things. I am racking up a debt already and I don’t know when I can pay you back. So, no, you won't be taking me shopping. I’m trying really hard to make it on my own. I don’t want any more help from your wallet.” 

“You know what, Poppylan?” Erdene sneered.

Poppy’s eyes rounded at the sound of Erdene's vehement tone and the dark clouds in her eyes on this bright and beautiful spring day.

“I’m going to give you a pass today. I don’t know what keeps crawling up your butt, but I’m getting tired of trying to pull it out just for you to shove it back in. You may not want the help. But you need some help. I know moving in has been stressful. I know the interview was stressful. I also know that any type of change can be stressful. But girl, when someone offers you help, believe me, being an independent woman is a woman after my own heart, but shutting down every time? That’s not independence, it's just being plain stubborn.”

Poppy shoved her face into her hands. Had she been stubborn? She did let Erdene go shopping for new furniture the other day. Well, that was after a few hours of convincing. She also let her take her shopping for interview clothes, again, after some convincing. Maybe Erdene was right, that even though Poppy had prided herself on being independent, she sure as heck was acting like a brat now that she had been called out. All her friend was trying to do was just show her a good time, welcome her like they had been best friends for a while instead of strangers who lived together.

Before Poppy could say anything, she felt Erdene’s hand coaxing one of hers into a hand.

“Let’s just have brunch and we can talk about it later. OK?” Erdene smiled, her eyes and tone much softer than the one she was sporting a few moments ago.

“I sound like a broken record. I’m so sorry, Dene.”

“It's fine bitch. But knock that shit off before I club you over the head,” Erdene giggled.

“Orders up ladies!” Gina said, bringing over the french toast and the hash browns.

“Thanks, Gina!” Both Poppy and Erdene chirped at the same time.

“Sure thing,” Gina said, waving her hand behind her as she sauntered off.

Poppy and Erdene dug in right away. Poppy moaned in delight as the epitome of comfort hit her tongue. The cinnamon and sugar danced on her tongue while the maple syrup, creamy butter and the small crunch of the bread lazily passed through her mouth as she savored every morsel.

“Holy crap this is good,” Poppy said as she reached for a piece of hash browns. Her mood had significantly shifted upon food being brought to her.

Erdene smiled with a closed mouth and nodded before jabbing at a piece of hash browns herself. “I knew you’d like it.”

“Are you enjoying yourselves, ladies?” Gina asked as she approached Poppy and Erdene’s booth.

“You bet!” Poppy said, shoving another piece of french toast in her already full mouth.

“Ok, just holler if you need anything!” Gina said as she went back to her post.

Poppy and Erdene enjoyed the rest of their meal while Poppy ordered another strawberry mimosa and chatted about everything and nothing all at the same time. It meandered from how Erdene got into art to how she had even sold a few of her pieces to art galleries around the city. It delighted Poppy that her roommate was opening up, not that she needed the encouragement to. That girl was such an open book. Poppy thought she could use a lesson or two.

“Holy crap! How is it already 1:30?” Poppy asked as her eyes widened. Last time she checked it was only 12:30.

“It’s because you've been enjoying yourself. Now that I have you in a better mood and liq–” Erdene’s Eyes were bugging out of her eyes and she looked as if she couldn’t decide if she was going to go into panic mode or go into a fit of giggles.

“Dene, wha-”

“Bitch. Don’t look now. But there’s a hot and I mean HOT mess over your shoulder,”she whispered.

“Hot? What do you mean hot?” Poppy asked as she attempted to look.

“I said don’t look, bitch!” she hissed.

“Would you stop calling me, bitch?”she hissed back.

“Just wait until he’s sitting down. Jesus. He’s huge,” Erdene whispered, her hand shielding her mouth so whoever it was couldn’t hear the gaggle coming from the corner booth.

“Is he sitting down yet?” Poppy asked, completely immersed in her friend's odd behavior.

“Shit, he looked at me. Shut the fuck up.” Erdene said, to whom, Poppy wasn't quite sure.

“Huh?”

“OK, OK. Thank Fuck, he’s sitting at the bar. God Damn he’s bigger in person. I think it’s time to get our check,” Erdene said as her head nodded towards the behemoth who was now perching on a swivel seat at the bar.

“Holy…shit…ake mushrooms. Where are his shoes?” Poppy asked as the man on the chair came into her view.

“That’s what you’re concerned about? His shoes?! Bitch, that guy is Toraki Hara.”

“Who?!”

“Do you never listen to the news? Ugh girl. He was framed for murder and was set free today. Apparently the guy didn’t do it. But he’s been serving for like almost 6 years in prison. God. I can’t imagine the pent up sexual frustration he must have.”

Gina came over and interrupted their conversation. “Are you ladies done?”

Both Poppy and Erdene jumped at the sudden intrusion.

“Yes!” They both squeaked.

“What’s got you two girls riled up?” Gina asked as she placed the bill on the table.

“No-nothing. Nothing at all,” Poppy sputtered as she took a side glance to the huge guy at the bar.

“Ladies, he’s harmless. Just came in here for a bite to eat and some strawberry juice. Mind your business just like he’s minding his,” Gina scolded them, giving both of them a pointed look before she walked away.

Erdene popped enough money out of her purse for the bill and tip and placed it on the table.

“Say, Poppy, speaking of pent up sexual frustration,” Erdene started as they both got up. “You should indulge in some self love and buy yourself a toy. You may loosen up a bit without alcohol.” There was a glint in her eye as she fixed her purse.

Poppy and Erdene let out a burst of laughter. She couldn’t believe her friend would say something so upfront in the middle of the diner. However, the way Poppy started to walk in cursive, she couldn’t stop the fit of giggles that came right after.

“Oh my god, Dene! I’m not going to do that!” Poppy snorted.

“Whatever, girl. I’m just saying, there’s no shame in buying yourself a vibrator,” Erdene said as they lazily walked out of the diner.

Poppy and Erdene walked back to the car and started it back up.

“Now what?” Poppy asked as she let her eyes close with her head leaned back in the seat.

“You like Cherry Blossom trees, yeah?” Erdene asked as she put the car in drive.

“I do! They remind me of my dad,” she sighed.

“Great! There’s this cute little meadow I know just down the road,” she said, pulling out of the parking lot.

Poppy and Erdene drove a mile down the road and stopped at a little pull off point. Poppy was glad she had changed into sandals as they went over the partition and down a little hill. Erdene had even had a small blanket that she pulled out of her car so they could lay down in the grass.

The word “cute” did very little to give it justice. The springtime bloom was a lavish spectacle draping with soft pink. The petals created a dance on the wind, swirling and drifting from one tree to the next. There was a small tree branch that had laid itself down, letting the other weary souls of this world to find support upon it. The slight breeze sifting through the opening graced Poppy with a smell of petals, fresh grass and…something very smelly.

“What on earth?” she sighed, picking up a shoe that had clearly seen better days.

“What did you find?” Erdene asked, coming closer.

“A shoe,” Poppy said, her head tilting to the side.

“Huh. I wonder who that belongs to.” Erdene turned her back to lay down the blanket.

Poppy smiled and laughed at the memory of the tall man at the diner who didn’t have shoes.

“I think I know,” she said to herself, as she dropped it.

“Come over here!” Erdene said.

Poppy wandered back over to the tree stump where her friend was waiting for her on the blanket. They laid down and looked up at the sky. Her eyes flitted around the different petals that were playing among the invisible current. Suddenly, as her eyes closed, she felt calm, for the first time all day, all week, all month.

“I hope you’re proud of me, dad,” she thought as a petal dropped on her nose.

Chapter Text

Poppy

It was 3:30 on a Friday afternoon and Poppy was running around her room like a chicken with its head cut off. The orientation started in 30 minutes and she couldn’t find her shoes, yet again. She had bought a shoe organizer to stick in her closet. But did that mean she was going to properly use it?

Of course not.

Unlike sticky notes and calendars she can stick in her purse, the shoe organizer did very little, or so it would have seemed, to encourage the point of such an object.

She had done her hair in a crown of french braids and a mix of bangs and baby hairs to help shape her face. Normally, her braids were left down but it was hot that day. She had planned on wearing the same outfit she had during the interview, the one that left quite the impression with Principal Lam (and unknown to her, a fresh out of jail, Tora) But that would mean having to get in a blazer and long pants.

Instead, she opted for a plain black pencil skirt and a champagne colored shirt complete with ruffles at the sleeve. After her incident with her heals last week, she opted for the black flats that were the cause of her current meltdown. She added a splash of pink tint on her lips and swept her lashes with mascara.

“Dene!” she shouted as she took her third lap around her room. Under her bed, in her closet, behind her door and back again.

“Looking for these?” the willowy woman asked, holding up the shoes in question against the door frame.

Poppy whipped around and Erdene had a shit eating grin planted on her face.

“Where were they?” Poppy asked, trying to catch her breath and wiping the sweat from her forehead.

“By the front door,” she said, hooking a thumb over her shoulder. Poppy rolled her eyes and walked towards her shoes to grab them from her friend's hand.

“Thanks.” She propped one hand on the door jamb, lifting her leg to place her shoe on her foot, and then the other. “I’ll get better at using that organizer, I promise,” she said to Erdene who was looking at her, a brow arched as if to say ‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’.

“Come on, girl. We gotta get going or we’re going to be late. Do you have everything? Your ID? Your sparkle gel pen with the unicorn on top?” Erdene giggled.

“Oh please. It’s not a unicorn. It’s a butterfly,” she said, grabbing her purse and looking to check. Yep. The sparkly gel pen with the butterfly was in fact there.

They made their way out of the apartment and into the car. Erdene made it hum to life and they hit the road.

“So, I know you’re helping with the tour but is there anyone else that you talked about going to be there?” Poppy asked as she looked outside the window, the world in motion.

“Nah, I think it's just me, Audrey, and Mr. Lam,” Erdene replied nonchalantly.

Poppy just nodded as they shared the rest of the ride in comfortable silence. When they pulled up to Ulaan Academy, Erdene parked in what she called princess parking which was code for, the closest possible parking space that wasn’t for the handicapped .

Poppy traced the hard edges of the brick and mortar as they walked into the building. As they got inside, Erdene led her down a hallway. Poppy’s eyes flitted between the walls on each side. They were painted gold with red accents, the Ulaan Academy Warriors, the mascot of the school. On the wall to the left, there was a row of what seemed to be an endless amount of achievements. On the wall to her right, there were pictures from the past as the shades progressed from sepia and blooming into color.

“It’s in here,” Erdene pulled Poppy from her explorations.

They were in an exquisite library. There were rows of countless books, the words contained on each page begging to be read. The smell of worn paper against the aged oak shelves as tall as the trees they came from sent a shiver down her spine. It was the aroma that any real literature enthusiast considered a comfort.

Sitting down in one of the few chairs that were set up was a guy who looked lost and a woman who looked like she had somewhere more important to be. She had bleached blonde hair, was slender, had blue eyes, and a very annoyed look on her face as she filed her nails.

Whoever she was, she was unhappy when Poppy plopped down on the chair next to her on the left and smiled.

“Ugh,” the other woman scoffed as she got up to change her seat.

Before Poppy could say anything or feel defeated, the guy who was to her right a few seats down, moved over beside her and smiled. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and even though his teeth were semi crooked, he didn't seem as such.

“Hey. I’m Louis. Want a Swedish fish?” Where it came from, Poppy wasn’t quite sure. But, as he held it out, she took it from his hand and smiled back.

“Thanks, I’m Poppylan. But you can just call me Poppy. What position are you here for? I’m the new literature teacher.”

Louis smiled back at her but before he could say what it was, Mr. Lam and Audrey came into the room.

“Welcome to Ulaan Academy. As you know, I am Principal Lam. Right here is my secretary, Audrey and to my left is our Visual Arts instructor, Erdene. While you are part of my faculty, you represent not just this school, but Narin City as a whole. Parents send their children here to become future scholars, not just for a generic education but to enrich their lives and the journey through learning. Now, before I go too much further, let's go around the room and do introductions, shall we?”

Mr. Lam gestured to Poppy, a silent request to go first. She awkwardly stood up, pulling at her skirt and flattening her shirt. She waved with a nervous smile plastered on her face as her eyes flittedto Erdene, who gave her a nod of encouragement.

“My name is Poppylan Wilkes. I just moved here from Moonbright.  I have my degree in literature and I just graduated college. I'm here to be a literature teacher. I–”

There was a snort coming from the opposite side of the room coming from the girl who removed herself not more than five minutes ago from the chair by Poppy.

“Mimi, do you have something to say?” Mr. Lam inquired tersely.

“No, not a thing. Sorry, Pops, continue.” Mimi smiled, the sentiment not reaching her eyes.

“It’s Poppy actually. Not Pops,” Poppy retorted, a sneer in her tone.

“Ladies,” Mr. Lam said disapprovingly of the verbal cat fight.

Poppy fiddled with the hem of her shirt, glaring at a piece of thread that had taken it upon itself to come loose. “Right. Well, actually I was done,” she said as she took her seat.

Next, Louis went. “Hi, I’m Louis. I’m from Narin City, grew up here. I’m here as one of the guidance counselors for juniors and seniors. I have my masters in psychology, a minor in early childhood development, and on the weekends, I like to watch The Test Kitchen and try my hand at how to make perfect desserts.”

Louis sat down and Poppy had to bite back a laugh. Was he serious? If Mr. Lam approves, then he must be. He sure as heck didn’t sound or look like someone who had spent years in school. He didn’t look any older than 24, 26 at most.

Poppy looked up at Erdene, who was frowning at something on her phone. She wandered over to Mr. Lam, whispered something with her back towards everyone else. He nodded and Erdene left the room. Mr. Lam turned to Audrey and whispered something in her ear, she nodded and left the room as well. Then Poppy’s phone buzzed in her purse, signaling she had a text message.

ERDENE: Hey I'm so sorry I had to bail. Something came up. You’re gonna have to get an Uber or something home. I’ll pay you back.

Before Poppy could type back a reply asking if everything was ok, Mimi stood up and cleared her throat.

“Hi. As you all know, my name is Mimi. I am the new school per diem teacher and I also am a teachers assistant when there’s no substitutes needed. Mr. Lam is my father,” she said as she gestured at him. Was he holding back a grimace?

Louis whispered in Poppy’s ear, “Well, that explains a lot.” Poppy had to bite back a giggle as Mimi shot daggers in their direction.

“And I’m Julri!” In came a man who was about 5’7 with  brown hair and beady brown eyes that lurked too appreciatively upon herself and Mimi. He had on black slacks that were just a bit too long and a white polo shirt with the Ulaan Academy Warriors logo in gold and red. He looked as interesting as an uncooked potato. He planted his feet next to Mr. Lam and shot another glance at Poppy. She hated how sleazy he seemed and he hadn’t even introduced himself to her properly yet.

“Thank you, Julri. I’m glad we could pull you from your classroom, I know it's crunch time before the beginning of the school year. Why don't you tell us a little about you and what your role is here?” Mr. Lam asked.

“I’m an agriculture and economics teacher. This is my fifth year teaching. And I’ll be assisting with the tour.” He crossed his arms while shooting an insincere flat lined smile across the room, as if he was waiting for some sort of applause.

“Thank you, Julri. Now, everyone, let's get this tour over with,” Mr. Lam said as Audrey came back into the library.

“Sir, there’s someone here to see you about an open position,” she told him loudly enough for everyone to hear.

To this, Mr. Lam frowned and quickly inquired, “What position? I thought all faculty had been taken care of?”

Audrey nodded. “It has been but this is more for facilities. Should I have him fill out an application and give it to Jacob when he gets back from leave or…?”

Mr. Lam sighed. “Have him fill out the form and I’ll see if I can pencil him in for an interview but I need to get Jacob involved somehow. I’m an educator, not a mop boy.”

Audrey nodded, disappearing out of the room as Poppy blanched. That was certainly a rude retort. But she couldn’t deny the accuracy of his statement.

“Shall we get this tour on the road?” Julri chimed in.

“Yes. Very well. We should.” Mr. Lam agreed as Julri led the way.

Poppy and Louis stayed back as Mr. Lam, Julri and Mimi went up front.

“Are you doing ok?” Louis asked almost in a whisper as if it was a secret between the two. 

But her ears redirected her attention to a gruff voice that was floating down the hallway. She could have sworn she recognized it. As rough as it sounded, there seemed to be more in the undertones, distress.

“Earth to Miss. Poppy!”

“Hm?” Poppy replied to Louis, who was now waving his hand in her face.

“You seemed like you were about to have a smackdown with Mimi, Miss. Poppy,” Louis stated as Mr. Lam started talking about the history of the school.

“Oh, It’s Miss. Wilkes, actually, or Poppy. Never Pops. Well, now that I think of it, Miss. Poppy has kind of a fun twist on my name I guess. As long as you don’t call me–” She was cut off when Louissnorted.

“OK. Miss. Poppy it is. But you never actually answered my question,” he said as they made their way into the teachers lounge.

“Oh, yeah, I’m–”

“And this is the teachers lounge.” Julri gestured at the set up, complete with an over the top refrigerator that had more buttons than she thought an appliance came with. It was sleek and stainless steel. The sink was farmhouse style, stainless steel as well. She wasn’t sure if she was in a teachers lounge or on the set of a cooking show. Louis seemed to have taken a liking to it as his fingers grazed over the butcher's block counter.

Room after room, hallway after hallway, the labyrinth that was Ulaan Academy all started to melt together. Louis kept Poppy entertained as they wandered with the rest of the group. He snorted when Mimi laid a hand on Julri’s shoulder, making him sputter and blush.

“Well that’s the end of the tour. Everyone grab your welcome pack at Audrey's desk that comes with your very own polo, like the one I’m wearing, and we will see you all on Monday for Teachers day!” Julri explained as they came to the front of the lobby.

Everyone disbanded and Louis turned to Poppy.

“It was good to meet you, Miss. Poppy. I’m sure I’ll see ya on Monday!” Louis said as he went to the desk, popping another swedish fish into his mouth.

“See you around, Louis! Thanks for keeping me--”

“Poppy, is it?” Another voice came from over her shoulder.

She turned around and looked up at Julri, who was now way too close for her liking. He stuck his hand out, offering a handshake. She balled one hand into a fist like there was a stress relief to come of it and stuck out her other to return the greeting. She wished she hadn’t. His hand was as slimy with sweat as his eyes were with his gaze.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand, if it weren't for the perspiration, it would have been a tighter, possessive grip.

“Same,” she lied, a smile on her face as she tried to hold back a gag. 

Poppy took her hand from his, wiped the sweat from her hand on her now soiled skirt, and made her way over to the desk where her welcome pack was. She grabbed it and immediately took her phone from her purse. She walked out of the door, trying to escape Julri, who was still eyeing her. With her phone in her hand, eyes glued to the screen, she walked into, no, bounced off of a human wall.

“Oi, Watch where ya goin! Fuckin’ teenagers.”

Tora

Tora was a little stunned to find fuckin’ Joe at the place that was supposed to belong to the old hag, Alice. It took a lot of back and forth of “Come on inside kid” and “I’ll fuck off to somewhere else.” mixed with “Park benches aren’t beds.” When Tora finally gave in, walking in through the doors of his short lived teenage years when life either was being held together by too thin and few threads or being ripped at the seams, he felt a tightness in his chest. Whether it was from the dust that had gathered in the nook and crannies or the memories that seeped into his brain, he wasn’t quite sure.

Tora had asked where Alice was, if Joe knew who he was even talking about. Joe explained that his Ma had passed away a while back. He had tried to tell her to quit the vaping cause that shit was bad for ya but Alice was stuck in her ways. Christ, she vaped so fuckin’ much that the curtains were laced with the smell of fake grape and strawberries. Alice had met her demise when her lungs filled with too much fluid and she bit the dust.

It didn’t occur to Tora until after the explanation of how Alice had died that Joe said “Ma.” Looking back on his time in the restaurant as her hired hand, Tora recalled that she would call him “Joe” sometimes, allowing Tora to connect the dots.

“Ya Ma was Alice?” Tora had asked.

“Yeah. We didn’t talk much up until a few years ago. When I was a kid, I was fuckin’ angry, pushed her to her limits that I didn’t know she had. Stopped talkin’ to me till I cleaned up my act. Even though it took me too fuckin’ long to get my head out of my ass, I’m glad I was able to when I did. I hope that she died happy, even if she did lose her goddamn mind at the end of it all, I think ma was still alive somewhere in there, proud of me.”

After clearing his throat, and righting his blue and white boxers, Joe had showed him around. On the ground level to the right was the bar that now had a coffee maker and the kitchen. Joe had kept everything as it was, a deep walk-in freezer with a heavy stainless steel door that housed all sorts of meats, a regular walk-in refrigerator, and a stainless steel sink. 

What used to be the dining room was still as such but only had one table, and a few chairs around it. It didn’t look comfortable but Tora was no stranger to such things.

When they went up the stairs where his favorite place was to eat on his breaks, it now had a door attached to it. 

Joe had opened it and there was a bedroom complete with a black leather couch, a TV, a cheap dresser that was fashioned out of the same particle board that Tora had sworn some of the prison food was made out of, a bed with two pillows, a quilt, and an open closet. Tora had cocked his head to the side as he noticed something gold, semi round and had some inscription on it. He went towards the dresser where it was laying, and he could feel his blood go cold.

Joe was a fuckin’ cop.

“Fuck this. I’m leavin’,” Tora mumbled harshly, blazing past Joe. He was fuckin’ pissed. Fuck Joe. Fuck his life. No cop had ever done him any fuckin’ favors. In fact, it was because of the fuckin’ police that Tora had landed his ass in jail, not bothering to believe a god damn word he said. Always fuckin’ judged him off of his size and his demeanor. He had been handed a fuckin’ shit hand at life, what did everyone expect him to be? Fuckin’ butterflies and unicorns with glitter or some shit? Nah, fuck that. He stomped out of the room and basically flew down the stairs with Joe stompin’ right after him.

“Kid, it ain't that bad. Trust me, it looks like shit but where else ya gonna go, huh?”

“Fuck off. I ain't shackin’ up with a fuckin cop,” Tora spat as he lunged towards the front door, his long arm reaching for the knob that was a few steps away.

“Christ, is that what this is all about?” He spat right back.

Tora's head whipped around, glaring daggers into the eyes of the man who clearly had a death wish.

“I’m leaving.” was all Tora said as he grabbed his backpack and opened the door.

He wandered over Narin City in his cheap ass sandals that were starting to leave a blister between his big toe and the smaller one beside it. Eventually he came to a park where he sat down and pulled out a cigarette to take some edge off.

Post prison life was bullshit.

Guilty, not guilty, didn’t fuckin matter when ya face is plastered everywhere and no one can fuckin’ trust ya even when ya didn’t do shit to them.

In prison, it didn’t matter if ya were in there for a different reason than the one ya sharing a cell with. The both of ya’s still in the same fucked up predicament and ya sure as shit wouldn’t be judged when the both of ya can’t even take a fuckin’ dump alone.

For fucks sake, he couldn’t even go to a fuckin’ park without the yoga moms lookin’ at him like he was gonna kill their little shit head who was making fun of the lesser of the little shits. Old women hurried past him while they walked their toy poodles, probably named “Coco” or “Sugar” or some shit, the dog, not the broad.

Well maybe both.

It took all of two hours, hitting dusk when he started fighting with himself. He had been so in the moment, that he had fucked up day one of being out. He didn’t trust cops. Not one bit. But, in Joe's defense, he didn’t give him a reason not to trust him. In fact, the bastard had been nothin’ but helpful all fuckin’ day when Tora was pretty sure he didn’t deserve it.

Tora was fuckin’ pissed still.he could have said something. Christ, what was the bastard thinking letting him stay with him?

He exhaled heavily on the bench as smoke floated from his lungs. The sky was turning from a soft blue into shades of colors that reminded him of the pants that the girl with an ass at the diner earlier had on. He was never gonna forget how perfectly plump it was. Especially when she–

“Hey, kid. Are you done now?” A familiar voice came to invade Tora's lewd thoughts.

He groaned, it was Joe. “Didn’t I tell ya to fuck off?” he replied as he took a drag, closing his eyes.

“Yep. Ya did. And I did. Until ya cooled off.” He sat down on the bench next to Tora, waving the smoke out of the way.

“How’d ya know I'd be ok? Maybe I wanna fuckin’ punch ya.” 

“Believe it or not, I used to be as angry as ya are now. But if it weren’t for the second chances people gave me, or in this case for ya, might be the forth, kinda lost count honestly.” Joe chuckled as Tora glared at him. “I wouldn’t be where I am today” he continued as they both looked on into the distance.

“Ya saying ya gonna give me another chance, huh?” Tora huffed out.

“Sure as long as ya keep ya head on straight. Now, I know you need some fuel after ya raged. Ya hungry? It’s not my ma’s sushi, or nothin’, but how about we grab a burger or something?” Joe offered.

Tora knew he was in no position to fight. Beggars can't be choosers. So, with a flick of his cigarette, a disapproving look from Joe, a sigh and a quick pick up of the butt from the ground and into the near ashtray, they went to dinner.

The next week went by in a blur from him and Joe at odds over what Tora was going to do next. Then Tora went out to find clothes through a homeless assistance program. He found a black hat in the bin that he could wear so he could at least walk with his head up.

Joe had him get an ID at the motor vehicle department, which Tora almost straight up refused to do until he took a look at his old one with the green hair. He wore the hat at the DMV up until he had to get the picture taken. The dipshit taking the picture almost fucked up when they realized who it was they were taking a picture of. 

Joe had even found a charger for Tora’s old phone to see if it would come back to life. When it did, Tora found himself straining his eyes to keep the dam of emotions from flooding his eyes. He went for a run that night, needing to distract himself from his feelings. The phone didn’t really work since that model was over 6 years old and had no data plan attached to it anymore but the pictures he had were still on there. One was of his ma and him that he had found when he was a kid, the only one where they looked happy enough before his world turned to shit. He was in a green jumpsuit with a t-rex holding a guitar. She had on a pink bathrobe and was looking at Tora like he was the stars in her sky. She had inky black hair just like him. Her eyes were brown though. They were not of amber like the ones he had inherited from his pa, who he had no picture of.

The picture he took everywhere with him when he bounced from shelter to shelter when his ma gave up being a ma. Trading him for alcohol, metaphorically speaking. When he got the phone, he took a picture of it, hoping to keep it digitally in case anything ever happened to the physical copy.

After a night of trying not to grieve, Tora started to make use of his time, grossed out by the fuckin’ dust that had collected, his allergies that he didnt know he had coming to wreak havoc on his sinuses, he got handy with the cleaning products. It amused Joe to no end when he came back from duty one evening. He came in with a frown planted on his face and sniffed as Tora blasted some lysol.

“Holy shit, it looks good in here. Thanks. Tora!” Joe laughed, gesturing at the clean surfaces.

“Pfft, didn’t do it for y-achooo!” he sneezed out.

“Well, all the same, kid.”

A few days later, Joe was looking through the help wanted ads over coffee. It was a Friday morning and Tora was in a piss ant mood. The couch he had been sleeping on fucked up his back and he went back to sleeping on the ground. Not that he wanted to sleep on the couch to begin with but he sure as shit wasn't about to lay on a bed in a bachelor pad.

“There’s an opening at Ulaan Academy,” Joe said as he slurped on his coffee, glancing over his newspaper at Tora.

“I’m not a fuckin’ teacher, what kind of fuckin’ joke are ya trying to pull?” He scowled as he sipped on his green tea.

“Not for a teaching position. Janitor,” he stated blandly, taking another sip.

“You’re kiddin’ right? A fuckin’ janitor? Cleaning up after little assholes all day? No thanks.” What the actual fuck? What did Joe think of that suggestion? Was he serious? He cleans once and now he’s Mr. Fuckin’ Clean?

“Well if ya change ya mind, I got to be on duty at 4:30, I can drop ya off beforehand. The front office closes at 5,” Joe said as he laid the paper down.

“Yeah and say what? Hey I just got acquitted of murder, let me work with a bunch of kids? Yeah fuckin right, Joe. They’re gonna take one fuckin look at me and tell me to fuck off,” Tora admonished the older guy who was holding back a fuckin’ laugh.

“Just put on ya nice slacks, take a shower, brush your goddamn teeth, and put on a smile. Ya gotta start givin’ some people in society a chance. Not everyone is out to get ya, son,” Joe said before he got up and patted him on the shoulder.

Tora bit his tongue from a snide remark, taking in Joe's “words of wisdom.” Throughout the rest of the day, up until the last minute, Tora had decided he wasn’t going to do it. He could find a job somewhere else. He wasn’t going to be a fuckin’ mop boy. That was until he looked at himself in the mirror and frowned. Was he really debating this?

He scrubbed his face with his hand and cursed.

“Fuck my life,” Tora said as he reached for his nice slacks and a button up white polo shirt. He placed some of his hair in a top knot, just to get the strays out of the way. Then took the pair of black shoes he found in the homeless shelter donation bin and put them on.

“Oi, Joe. I’m coming,” Tora called out as he booked it down the flight of stairs.

Joe was standing by the door, fuckin’ grinning like a cat that got the cream. “Alright, Tora, let's get goin.”

On the way there, they didn't talk much. They just rode in a comfortable silence as the city rushed by.

Before Tora knew it, they were pulling up to the high school. With his ID in his wallet, a steadying breath, and self deprecation filling his head, he got out of the car.

“Just be honest. I know it's not a dream job or nothin’ but ya gotta start somewhere. You’re a smart guy, this wont be forever,” Joe said as Tora looked at him one last time before he turned to make his way up the steps and in through the door.

The building looked old as fuck like it came out of a fuckin’ Charles Dickens book, the one with the guy who drank too much spiked eggnog before going to bed on Christmas. 

In the distance, Tora’s ears heard Joe's car take off. He then noticed the amber and red brick side by side. Different colors, shaped differently too from the wearing of time, no doubt. But, they were part of the same purpose. As they held the foundation together side by side with the mortar connecting them, a force that wasn’t deteriorating any time soon, Tora admired the craftsmanship of it.

When he pulled the door that led into the inside, he noticed right away that there was a woman who was ushering some weasel looking guy in almost the same attire as he was. Black slacks, white polo shirt and a look on his face that Tora didn’t appreciate. Bastard looked smug as hell. But that's not what Tora was here for.

Tora cleared his throat, “Miss?”

Both her and the shit stain turned to look at Tora. She dismissed the guy as he kept walking, holding up her index finger, an indication of “one moment please” to the guy.

As she approached him, her eyes widened and her steps were far and few in between, going towards him slower than molasses.

“I’m, uh, here for the open position.” Tora said, his hands itching for a cigarette as her mortified glaze slapped him in the face.

“I'm sorry. All positions are filled,” she said. Bitch was lying and they both knew it.

“Ya mean ya got someone to clean up shit so readily? The ad was in the paper this morning.” 

Probably not his best way of calling her out on her shit by the way she was looking at him but he didn't want to do this in the first fuckin’ place.

“Oh.” She laughed nervously.

“Yeah. Oh . Now do ya got an application or nah?” Tora asked, his tone flat.

“Well. I do, we do. But, you see, the only person here for interviews is Principal Lam. And well, he’s running orientation for new teachers. But I can see if--”

“How ‘bout ya give me the application, I fill it out, and Mr. Lam figures the rest out, yeah? Can we do that?” he countered, the need for nicotine getting stronger and stronger.

“Of course, give me one moment,” the lady said, hurrying to the room that the other guy disappeared into.

She was only gone for a moment, but long enough for him to have a glance around. While the building was old, that much Tora knew, the interior looked quite new. Though, the school colors stuck out like a sore thumb. Red and Gold? A warrior as a mascot? That’s fuckin’ original.

“Sir?” The lady called as she returned.

He turned around as she busied herself looking for something at what he assumed was her desk. “Secretary Audrey” it read.

“Here, fill this out, the best you can and please, if you have your ID, I will need to see it. I have a pen too.”

Then as she handed it to him, the application on a clipboard, he dug in his wallet and fished out his ID. She glanced at it, and Tora didn't miss how her eyes were bulging out of her god damn sockets as she flicked her head down.

“Thanks.” His attention wandered over to a group of people who were filing from the room where she had disappeared into before. It was the asshole, some blond with a stick thin body, an older short man, some guy with brown hair and someone else who was being shielded by him.

He shook his head and regained his focus.

Tora sat on one of the chairs in the lobby and looked down at the application:

Name
Address
Jobs held previously
ID number
Email address
Phone number
Salary Desired
Reason for interest in this job
Date available to start
References and numbers: Shit.
High school Diploma or equivalent…SHIT.
Any time in prison…Fuck.

Tora had tried to fill out what he could, he really did but he felt defeated. What the actual fuck was he supposed to say, his name sure, address was fine, but fuck him and his ability to not able to get his highschool diploma when he fucked around as a teenager. Fuck his life for just getting out of prison, innocent or not. He wasn’t aware of how long he was staring at the application. But he needed to take a break before he broke the god damned clipboard.

“Miss, I’m gonna take a smoke. I’ll be back in a minute,” Tora said as Audrey dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

As he stepped down the stairs, flicking his cigarette to life with his lighter, he took a drag. The smoke invaded his lungs and the nicotine cleared his brain. Maybe he should take the application back home and have Joe help him? Why was being out of jail harder than being in? Why was society so fucking backwards? He felt like a god damned teenager all over again, just trying to survive. This was a janitor position. Why the hell did they need to know so much shit?

Tora stubbed his cigarette out, as he inhaled the smoke one last time. He was just going to take the application home as his final resolve.

Tora had stuffed his hands into his pocket, canting his head down so he didn’t punch the first thing he saw.

He took the steps one by one, head still down, hand reaching for the door when something, no, someone bounced off of him. He only saw the top of her head and she was wearing some fancy ass braid in her hair. She was so fucking short and must have been a student here for whatever fucking reason. Maybe her dad was Mr. Lam?

Whatever.

“Oi, Watch where ya goin!” he spat as they both steadied themselves from the impact.  “Fuckin’ teenagers,” he muttered, going past the girl as he went inside to collect his application with her brushing past him.

Poppy whipped around, faster than she thought was humanly possible at the guy with his back to her. How dare he not apologize and then insult her? She was a grown adult woman! Not a teenager. First with Mimi, then Julri, then whoever this jerkface was? Absolutely not. She was going to make him say sorry.

“EXCUSE ME?! Who are you calling a teenager?!” she chided as he stopped in his tracks.

Tora was taken aback at the delicate voice coming from behind him. Sure, she probably thought she sounded angry, but to him, she sounded kind of hot and he hadn’t even seen her face yet. Just the top of her head. He turned around and was instantly met with eyes that were hard as steel but rich as chocolate.

Whoever this guy was, he was still staring. Oh god was there something on her shirt? She had a horrible tendency of spilling things but she hadn’t had anything to drink and the shirt looked clean when she put it on. Or, oh, could it be her hair? Did it look THAT bad? She was in a hurry and it was so hot that day. What was wrong with her? She needed to make him apologize!

“I asked you a question. Who are you calling a teenager? YOU bumped into ME and then insulted me. I think you should–”

Fuck, she was going a million miles per hour. How was he supposed to defend himself when she wouldn’t shut the fuck up? Her mouth was moving, words were spewing out, but he was focused more on her plump lips. Lips that he wanted to get a taste of. He wanted to see if they tasted as good as they looked.

“I’m sorry,” Tora said, stopping this non-teenager woman from making her animated hand gestures. He’s pretty sure that if she could, she’d kill him with her phone with how she brandished him with it like a knife. She was looking at him now as if he said something even more wrong than the words she was clearly directing him towards.

“Huh?” Poppy was absolutely shocked. She wasn’t expecting that so quickly. So much for making him apologize. Maybe she was right and it was actually his fault. Even though she wasn’t looking either and–was he smirking at her?

Christ. He hated repeating himself. But he wanted to hear more of her voice. Sounded a lot nicer than fuckin’ Joes snoring at night. Maybe he could get her to talk more, it’d be something to fill his head instead.

“I said I’m sorry . I had my head down and wasn’t payin’ attention. But from the force ya hit me with, I think ya should apologize too,” Tora said, biting the inside of his cheek from laughing. She was turning red now. He loved when he got to call people out on their shit. But with this tiny woman with big balls who clearly either didn’t recognize him or did not give a single shit made it even better. She was probably so used to getting away with murder that having someone call her out on her shit was a new one for her.

Well. Shoot. He did notice. So much for getting away with murder. She looked at him then, before she was looking towards him. She studied his features as she cocked her head to the side. His eyes were a brilliant shade of amber that were like two stones placed against a warm olive complexion. She saw his tattoos that were painted onto his skin, they looked familiar. She tried to place in her mind where she had seen them before.

“Well?” Tora asked as she was still standing there. Motionless, her eyes were the only movement. Normally, when people looked at him it was one of two faces: Horrified or with perversion. She seemed to have a soft curious gaze though. One, that if he was being honest with himself, was a different sensation that he awkwardly wanted more of.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking either. But you’re so much bigger and taller than I am. I’d think you’d be able to see me if you were looking down.” Well, that was a backhanded apology if she had ever heard one and it came from her mouth.

Tora couldn’t believe this girl. Not only was she not turning away from him, she was also calling him out on his shit inside of what's supposed to have been an apology. Shit she was still looking at him, her eyes going from a hard steal to a melting chocolate. Maybe she caught what she had said? 

They both took a breath at the same time. But before either of them could get a syllable out, Erdene had come up in her car at that moment.

“Hey, Miss. Wilkes, How was your orientation?” Erdene yelled from her car.

“Oh, Dene! I’ll be right there,” Poppy said. “Well, see ya. Sorry again!” she said over her shoulder to the guy with the tattooed arms and beautiful eyes. She wondered what he was doing here anyways. She went down the stairs and got in the car and asked Erdene, “I thought you said I’d have to take a cab home?”

“False alarm,” Erdene said cryptically as she shrugged, putting the car in drive, both unaware of Tora, who’s eyes went wide as fuck.

Christ. Her ass. That’s it. Fuck. She was the girl from the fuckin’ diner and she fuckin’ worked at the school he was trying to get a job at as a fuckin’ janitor.

Fuuuuuuuuck.

Later that night, as Poppy went to sleep, her eyelids heavy with sleep, her eyes opened wide at the sudden realization of where she had seen those tattoos and heard his voice before. It was Toraki Hara and he was at the diner that day. Why on earth was he at the school?!

Fuuuuuuuudge.

Chapter Text

“This is fuckin’ bullshit.” Tora seethed, trying his hardest to fill in the application. For fucks sake, he couldn’t even go two letters without making it look like chicken scratch or making the pen bleed. 

It was Monday morning, 10:30 AM, and both him and Joe were downstairs. While Tora was at the table trying to fill out the piece of paper in order to work, Joe was standing by the bar, pouring his cup of coffee. Both of them were in a piss poor mood from their lack of sleep over the weekend. The forecast had called for rain. 

The forecast was a crock of shit.

Not only was there no rain, but it was hot as fuck all weekend.

Friday night, Tora was doing a few reps to distract himself. He was trying to keep his mind off of the confrontation with the hell on wheels of a woman that he had earlier that day. Even though it was closing in on midnight, he wasn’t the least bit tired.

During his last set at around 1 AM, the air conditioning sang a swan song and died. With the smell of a disgruntled unit that was carrying a hint of rust and smoke, it had torn Tora from his concentration.

As he stood, his body screamed at him, his environment quickly becoming a sauna. It’s not that he wasn’t used to sweating, since he spent most of his time in prison working out his rage when his nose wasn’t stuck in a book. However, he had rather become used to central air conditioning in the small amount of time he was at Joe’s.

 He went up into the upstairs bedroom to try to find some relief there. Instead, he found it had been a horrible decision as it was hotter upstairs. Tora decided there was only  one way he would find some sort of reprieve from the punishing suffocation of the air around him. He stomped over to his shitty pillow and his bare thread blanket and set up camp on the floor in the kitchen with the walk-in refrigerator open. Soon, as visions of that feisty girl on the steps of Ulaan Academy flooded his mind along with the cool air floating from the appliance, Tora fell asleep.

That’s how Joe had found him after he came in from patrol on Saturday morning at 7:15. 

At first, Joe had looked at the younger of the two who was curled in on himself, as much as one could when they were pure muscle and 6’3”, completely perplexed. However, it didn’t take long for Joe to piece everything together as he felt the stale heat leaving items to fester around the house. Joe cozied up to the walk in fridge out of desperation for sleep.

And that’s how Tora had found Joe when he woke up late Saturday morning.

Their agitation peaked Sunday morning after Joe bitched about the building being too goddamned old, which in turn led Tora to mutter some bullshit about Joe being too cheap to fix it. That had infuriated Joe, and he told him that if he had the money, he would have done it already but he was too strapped for cash at the moment, something clearly due to Tora. Tora roared out strings of curses mixed in with self depreciation about how fucking hard it must be to willingly take in an ex-prisoner who is too fuckin stupid to fill out a goddamned fuckin piece of shit paper.

At that moment, Joe stopped swinging his dick around, completely forfeiting his turn. Joe told Tora, after placing a bag of frozen peas to his forehead, that he was sorry for making him feel like he was a burden, that he was just overwhelmed and tired.

“What do you need help with son?” Joe muttered around his coffee cup.

“Writing is bullshit. Jobs are bullshit. Everything is bullshit,” Tora yelled, chucking the innocent pen across the room as he placed his head down into his hands.

Joe came over to the table after picking up the banished writing utensil, where Tora was having his current meltdown. He sat in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and slowly reached for the paper that was causing so much distress.

“Tora,” he started, his voice calm but commanding.

Tora grunted, his face still buried.

“Do me a favor and tell me your information,” Joe said as he got up to get something.

“What?” he asked as he ripped his head from the valley of his hands, not quite sure where Joe was going with his sudden request.

He sat back down with white out and started working on the muddled letters and numbers that were on the application.

“I said, tell me your information, the best you can and we will figure out the rest as we go,” Joe commented as he blew on the white out, drying it.

Name Toraki Hara
Address XXXX Little Doll Ln 

“Did ya do anything while ya were locked up?” Joe asked as both of their attention went to the next question.

Tora snorted. “I had one. I fuckin’ hated it.” 

He arched his brow. “And what was it? I gotta put something on here, kid.”

“Joe, ya ever get paid $0.13 an hour to fish a turd from the shitter?” He asked seriously.

He barked out a laugh as the pen in his hand made an illegible marking on the paper.

Jobs held previously in the past 5 years: Plumber
ID number xx-xx-xxx-x
Email address: Unavailable
Phone number : See reference
Salary Desired : Starting wage

Their eyes dropped to the next question, and Tora’s brow arched as he was about to say something, Joe cut him off. “Tora I can’t put “No interest, just need money.”

“Fine. Put some shit like “has experience in cleaning shit up,” he said as he gestured to the paper.

Joe rolled his eyes and Tora took note of the smile tugging at the man's lips.

Reason for interest in this job: Looking to apply my appreciation for cleanliness outside of the home.
Date available to start: Immediately
References and numbers: Joseph Alice XXX-XXX-XXXX
High school Diploma or equivalent : In progress 

“Shit Joe. Ya know that ain't fuckin’ accurate,” Tora snapped as Joe looked at the last question.

“Quiet, kid. Progress don’t have to be overnight. We’ll get ya there.”

Any time in prison : 5 years served upon being acquitted.

“Joe, ya can’t be serious…” Tora said, a hint of bitter amusement slipping out in his tone. From the way it looked on paper, Tora was just another low class fuck up in life and it was down in writing. For Christ's sake, he didn’t even have more than one god damn reference and it was the guy filling it out for him.

“Listen. I know how this looks. If ya want, I can take a look around for ya and help ya get placed with an agency that helps guys like you. But ya gotta at least try at once and then go from there. Just go and hand in the application and if they call, they call. If not, we can keep lookin, okay?”

“Yeah but, Joe, the air conditioner is–” he started as he got up from his seat before Joe promptly interrupted him.

“Ah, Christ. Don’t worry about that kid. I was being an asshole. That wasn’t fair of me to lay that out on ya. I got a buddy that said he would take a look at the busted one today after you and I get back from droppin’ that thing off, OK? No more sleepin’ by the walk in fridge for us. Now go get ready.”

After a cold fuckin’ shower and sifting through his minimal selection of clothes, Tora settled on another polo, black this time because fuck him, his white one was dirty. And of course, black pants because that’s all he fuckin’ had at the time. Put on his same old black shoes, tied his hair back up in his usual style, partial bun to keep a good portion of his hair out of the way and went downstairs.

Joe was sitting at the table, keys in hand, looking like a proud dad or some shit. Not that he would know what one looked like.

“Ya ready?” Tora asked, motioning to the door as he grabbed the goddamn application from the table.

“Yeah, let's get going.” Joe e heaved himself up from the chair, following Tora.

When they got to the school, the parking lot was full with cars. But there was no one in sight. Tora felt a beating in his chest that mimicked the sputtering of the engine, on the precipice of giving out any moment from stress.

“Well, Tora, this is you,” Joe said as they pulled near the curb.

“I’ll only be a minute. They’re probably just gonna look at this and put it in the shredder before I can walk away,” he said as he pushed his door open with the paper in his hand.

“I’ll be here.”

As Tora took the steps one by one, head down, he smiled thinking the last time he was in this position, he had a run in with the most intriguing person he had ever met. Which said a lot because when you’re in prison, you’re in a cesspool of humanity. His head jerked up, notating that maybe he should start looking where he was going. His hand reached for the handle and walked inside.

There was a sign that said Welcome to Ulaan Academy for the new school year !. On each side of the sign were red and gold balloons. To the left of the sign was a table that had been set up. Tora approached it to see what was on it. Looked like a clipboard and pens. Before he completely was able to land there, a voice came from his left.

“Hey, man. Can I help you?”

Tora turned and looked about a head down from his own height. The guy standing next to hi, clearly realizing  who he had just approached, took a step back. He had on a blue jumpsuit and a patch that said Jacob and sported thick black rimmed glasses. He had a broom with him that he was holding onto with a vice grip.

“Yeah, gotta apply for a janitor position. Can ya see to it that it gets in the right hands?” Tora asked, noticing the grimace on the guy's face.

“Oh. Um. That’s actually me. My name is Jacob. I just got back from my leave. I was told we had someone looking for a job. I just didn’t realize it would be–”

“An ex-convicted murderer? Surprise,” Tora stated as Jacob reached out his hand in unison with Tora handing the paper to him.

“Yeah,” he croaked. It took Jacob all of 30 seconds to glance over the application, smirking at the obvious bullshit that Joe had jotted down earlier in the day. To Tora’s surprise, even though there was a hesitance associated with it, Jacob gestured for Tora to follow him.

“OK, Toraki, let’s go this way. Normally, I don’t do this but, we had a guy quit last month and the school year starts up this Wednesday.”

Jacob and Tora went into what was assumed to be the school library. Though to Tora, it was more than that. It was where old friends were sitting, cooped up on dusty shelves, begging to reunite with him. He noted the ladders that were practically floor to ceiling like the bookcases. Whoever dared to climb up that high was crazy as fuck. And holy shit that smell of old paper that blended in with the spines and covers of the books, was a calming sensation for him since he entered the parking lot.

Jacob led them to a table with a few chairs, inviting him to sit.

“As I said, I don’t normally hire people on the spot but–”

“Excuse me, what? Ya hiring me? Ya sure? Ya know I went to prison right?” Tora interrupted. 

Was this guy fucking with him? Ballsy little fucker.

“Well, yeah. I mean. I think a lot of people know you went to prison. But it’s also common knowledge you got released on a count of new evidence. I mean if you got released for a crime you didn’t commit, you’re not a real felon or murderer, right?” he asked just as seriously, eyeing him.

Tora nodded. “Not really a murderer. Not really a felon. Though, from the looks I get from people, you would think I was even worse. But what if the parents at this school find out who’s workin here? Wont ya guys get into trouble or some shit?”

“Pfft. They’d have to go through Principal Lam first,” Jacob said as he trailed off into a chuckle.

“This Principal Lamb–”

“Lam. Principal Lam,” Jacob interrupted.

“This Principal Lammmm, when do I meet him? Isn’t he in charge of who gets hired?”

“Not when it comes to facilities and junk. He leaves that to me. Security, he leaves to Trevor. He’s not good at his job though. Probably will get fired soon,” Jacob said, rolling his eyes.

“And ya just gonna trust me even though I don’t got much experience or nothin’?”

“Well, unless you plan on plowing into someone with a floor buffer at full speed, I don’t think we will have a problem. The only thing I need to do is call this “Joseph” guy.”

Tora perked his ears up at that.

“He’s actually here with me. He drove me here. He’s waiting in his car by the curb. Or was, the time I checked.”

“Oh, is he your…?” Jacob started.

“Fuck, no. He’s kind of I guess, like a sponsor? He took me in after I got out.” Tora explained.

“Well, do you mind waiting here? I can just go out there quickly and check to make sure you’re not full of shit,” Jacob asked as another set of voices filled the once quiet sanctuary.

“Yeah. Go for it.”

“Before I head out to Joseph, is there anything else I need to know?” he asked, already standing up.

Tora mirrored him, not liking to be looked down on, no matter the situation.

“Yeah. Call me Tora.”

Jacob cocked his head at the invitation. A small smile was placed on his face as he nodded in agreement. “Ok. Tora, I’ll be right back. Have a look around. This library is a big one and a pain in the ass to clean sometimes.” Jacob chuckled as he left.

Tora had been perusing the shelves of the fiction section when he landed on the most colorful section. It was by an author called “Dr. Suess.” The name sounded vaguely familiar, like a memory knocking on the door with a brick wall behind it. It looked like books for children with how whimsical the characters looked. If Tora didn’t know any better, he’d swear he wandered into the children section. Yet, when he looked up, the sign said “Fiction: Authors A-D”. His eyes skimmed the colorful selection when he saw a book called The Sneetches and Other Stories .

As he began reading, he pressed into the shelf to hold himself up.

“Those stars weren’t so big. They were really so small 

You might think such a thing wouldn’t matter at all.

But, because they had stars, all the Star-Belly Sneetches 

Would brag, “We’re the best kind of Sneetch on the beaches.” 

With their snoots in the air, they would sniff and they’d snort 

“We’ll have nothing to do with the Plain-Belly sort!” 

And whenever they met some, when they were out walking, 

They’d hike right on past them without even talking.

When the Star-Belly children went out to play ball, 

Could a Plain Belly get in the game…? Not at all. 

You only could play if your bellies had stars 

And the Plain-Belly children had none upon thars.

When the Star-Belly Sneetches had frankfurter roasts 

Or picnics or parties or marshmallow toasts, 

They never invited the Plain-Belly Sneetches. 

They left them out cold, in the dark of the beaches. 

They kept them away. Never let them come near. 

And that’s how they treated them year after year.”

 

Tora frowned. The star belly sneetches were assholes. So what if the others didnt have a fuckin’ star on their tummy? Wasn’t the plain bellies' fault for getting fucked over. It was just a star for fucks sake. Before Tora could finish the story about the cocky little shits and their fascination with stars, he heard a few familiar voices coming from a table nearby.

Shutting the book and placing it on the shelf with all of the other books by said “Dr.” Tora tuned in to the conversation being held by none other than “Miss Wilkes,” as he had learned on Friday, and her mermaid hair friend.

“Seriously, Dene, I’m not interested. I have so much that I still have to do.”

“Yeah. But, girl, he’s cute, right? Just think about it. And it's not like it was Julri asking you.”

Tora frowned. Who the fuck were they talking about?

“It’s not like he asked me directly. So I don't want to embarrass myself and him at the same time. Louis is nice, but I’m not interested.”

And shit, what slammed on the desk?

“But Poppy–”

Poppy was her name. Finally, Tora had a name to put to the most beautiful, intriguing pistol of a woman he had ever met.

“But nothing.”

“Oh, I get it. It’s because he’s not that dark, tall and handsome ex-convict, Toraki, huh? The one who’s podcast story you were tuned into on Saturday?”

Tora’s eyes widened, the library starting to become a lot smaller in a matter of moments. Where the fuck was Jacob?

“Oh, please. What would me and someone like him –”

Fuck her.

She could go fuck herself. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? 

“ Like him”.

She has one conversation with him and thinks she knows him? Not like it was an actual conversation, just her and her gorgeous face spewing out words from her perfect lips that were condemning him.

He stomped out of the library, not giving two shits if people stared at him or not as he made his way to the car out in front.

Joe and Jacob were chatting like old friends, as Tora was the subject of another fucking conversation.

“Hey man, I was about to come and–Are you OK?” Jacob asked hesitantly. No doubt Tora had looked like a man possessed, but he was fucking fuming.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“Well, if you still want the position, it’s yours,” he said sheepishly.

Tora looked at Joe, whose brow was arched, through the window. He wanted to punch something so desperately that moment. The car, the guys who were fucking staring at him. For fucks sake, he’d punch himself in the fucking face if he could.

Fuck. 

“Yeah. Still interested,” Tora muttered.

“Well. Great! Come back tomorrow around 11. We’ll get you all settled in, get you one of these amazing suits, and I’ll have a name patch made for you. I’ll show you around and give you the tour too. You know, normal first day stuff,” Jacob told him without hardly taking a breath.

If Tora didn’t know any better, He would have sworn that Jacob was just trying to dismiss him as quickly as possible like every other fucking person he had met when he went to that school.

Fuck them all. Just because he got a job, doesn’t mean he had to like the assholes he was working with.

Tora simply nodded. When Jacob extended his hand, Tora blinked down at it.

“Welcome to Ulaan Academy…We’re glad to have you,” Jacob said, hand still extended.

Tora reached out and shook his hand awkwardly.

“Thanks. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

When Tora let go, he climbed into Joe's car and slammed the door closed as Jacob disappeared back into the building.

“Jesus, kid. You got all wound up. What the hell happened to ya? Thought you’d be more excited than this. Ya always look like that when you get good news?” Joe asked as he pulled the gear into drive.

Tora didn't answer. It would just make him go on another fucking rant about giving people chances and all that bullshit. He felt the years of disapproval; the words ripping him apart as a new phrase was added to his list.

Someone like him.

A fuckup

A piece of shit.

Human garbage

A monster.

No one special.

An accident.

People and their fucking stars.

Chapter Text

“OK! I think that's the last of it!” Poppy said to herself, wiping her forehead free of the dripping sweat.

It was supposed to be nice weather all weekend, with rain predicted in the forecast. However, the only precipitation currently present was in her crevices.

The weatherman was full of bologna.

After placing the box of room supplies along with some of her favorite books, Poppy sat down at her desk. It was dark cherry wood that had a single drawer in the middle, and one small door to the left with two bigger ones following below. The piece was new but had an antique style bronze drawer pull. The desk was massive, commanding its presence when she first walked in. As she studied the intricate grains that swiveled and swooped, Poppy was almost disappointed how the edges were sharp. Still, even as she ran her hand across the top, despite its off putting nature, she couldn’t deny how captivated she was when she looked at the different layers.

In contrast, her chair was new. It was plain and black, nothing like the cherry wood that was in front of her. It still had the warranty tag on it and felt as if no one had sat in it before. She moved around, spinning it like a tire swing of days from long ago. With one last push, she swept from one side of the desk to the other where her boxes were.

Taking in the room around her, past the desk, Poppy found the perfect place for her books on a small shelf to the left, by the whiteboard. It was the same color as her desk, but was small and had soft edges. She laughed. Interestingly enough, while they were so different, they were almost the same. Soft and sharp in contrast, but made of the same material. She pulled a lace table runner from her box and placed it down on the top shelf, banishing it from people to see the delicate details that laid from just beneath their eyes.

Taking her books from the box, she smiled at them, greeting old friends that had stayed up with her during nights when her world was crumbling. Pride and Prejudice , A colorful book -- Oh the Places You’ll Go , The Collected Poems of Sylvia Plath , The Complete Collection of Edgar Allan Poe and, lastly, her treasured Little Women . While it wasn’t the one that her father had left to her before he had passed that laid with worn dog ears on its pages, this copy was for her classroom. She placed them on top, spread out like a literary buffet. If she was able, she was hoping to add more books, a collection to have for her students.

The students’ desks and tables were all uniformly placed. Made out of plain brown particle board, the top looked soft but it was a facade. Under all of the smooth exterior was nothing but bland rough edges, warped into looking like something it wasn’t. The chairs even looked stiff. Frowning as she stroked one of them from an aisle, she felt grime on the surface. No, these desks wouldn’t do for her at all in her years at school.

Going back to her desk, Poppy took out her laptop, glancing at the syllabus outline that was emailed to her on Saturday. It wasn’t the size of the syllabus that had her heart pounding and her mouth dry, for it was only about 7 pages long, but rather, the consequences of not following the harsh guidelines. The words were all but condemning her if she didn’t follow the rules. As she scanned it  page by page, looking over the different assignments, her heart started to beat at a dangerous pace. She should have been a visual arts major.

Before she could damn the literary arts any further, there was a knock at her door. Spinning her attention around, it was Erdene and Damien, the latter of the two who she had met a few moments prior. He had dark features, black hair, dark brown eyes, and a few tattoos with skulls. If it weren’t for his stark contrast light blue shirt that bordered on purple that read “ask me about my star sign” and his casual jeans paired with pink converse, he would have looked like a thug.

“Hey Dene! Hey Damien.” Poppy chirped as she put her laptop down onto the desk.

“Girl,” Erdene started as she swayed over to Poppy, looking down at her with an amused, cat-like grin. “She is totally his type. Don’t you think so?” Erdene asked Damien, her co-conspirator. One of her hands was on her hip while the other played with one of Poppy’s signature french braids. 

Poppy swatted her hand away as she felt her face burn with embarrassment, turning the shade of the flower that was her nickname.

“Who’s type?!” she demanded as Erdene stepped back, returning to Damiens side.

“Louis, Miss. Poppy,” Damien replied.

The name ‘Miss. Poppy” had spread like wildfire among the staff. She was sure now, her name was no longer respectfully Miss Wilkes. It was fine, she supposed, as long as it wasn’t the other nickname that her mother gave her all those years ago before she abandoned Poppy and her dad.

Pushing those thoughts away to avoid tears pouring from her eyes like a broken dam, she shook her head.

“Thanks, but no.” She busied herself opening her laptop that now sat on her desk. She hardly knew the guy. He was nice, yeah, but something about him wasn’t for her. Maybe it was because he was just too nice? Maybe, just maybe she just wasn’t interested. And that was good enough for her.

“Well, just think about it. He’s a nice guy. And we all wanted to go out this Friday to kind of kick back…” Damien said, without actually concluding that it was Louis who wanted to know. Actually, now that she thought about it, it sounded like they were trying to set her up. 

Who knew if the poor guy even knew what they were up to?

Poppy nodded her head, canting it down so the room intruders didn't see her roll her eyes in exasperation. 

Her room was on the same level as the library, which was just down the hall and to the left. She had imagined herself already taking breaks in there, perusing the shelves one by one. That didn’t sound like a bad idea at this moment;maybe she should take her work there in hopes of finding solace.

“Well, I’m gonna go look at the library some more. Maybe get some work in. You know, since school starts Wednesday and all,” Poppy said as she put her bag back together.

Damien shrugged without pushing the subject more. “See ya around!” He half waved before sneaking a nod and a wink to Erdene, who was practically purring from the attention.

“See ya, Damien,” Poppy said as her attention went back to the laptop. She placed it in her bag, as he slipped out of the door, leaving her with Erdene. From the suspicious look her friend was giving her, Poppy knew that she wasn’t going to be as easy as Damien to dissuade from the former topic of conversation.

“Soooo…” Erdene drew out while Poppy closed her bag.

“Soooo…what?” Poppy asked, mirroring the drawn out words.

“If you’re going to go into the library, mind if I come along?” she asked, to Poppy's bitter amusement.

It’s not that she didn’t like her roommate, but she needed some alone time to process her thoughts. School started on Wednesday and she only had today and Tuesday to get her act together. Mulling it over for only a few moments, she sighed and nodded, fixed on the idea she would just take her chances and try to get everything done later that night and come back tomorrow.

She grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder and the two of them walked out of the classroom and down the hall. Poppy started counting down to when Erdene was going to strike with her version of an interrogation.

Before they hit the library, Erdene chimed in like clockwork. “What if you just come with us on Friday, no strings attached or anything, and Louis will just happen to be there?” Erdene ventured.

Before Poppy could answer, upon their arrival at the library, a guy in thick black glasses and a blue jumpsuit walked out as they walked in. Poppy didn’t get a good look at him but she did see his name badge read “Jacob”. From the looks of it, he was a custodian with a paper in his hand and a purpose in his gait.

When they walked further into the library, there wasn’t a soul in sight; or so she thought, other than her and Erdene. Poppy focused on a table over by the fictional section and sat on the chair that faced away from the aisles. She took her bag from her shoulder and placed it on the table before her.

It was when she felt the heavy gaze coming from Erdene that she finally snapped.

“Seriously, Dene. I’m not interested. I have so much that I still have to do.” She really did. She was starting to lose her patience. Maybe she should just get a bus pass so she didn’t have to rely on Erdene so much. They needed to establish some sort of a boundary between them, and Erdene was obviously missing the hint left and right.

“Yeah. Bu,t girl, he’s cute, right? Just think about it. And it's not like it was Julri asking you.” Erdene offhandedly said as she looked at her perfectly manicured hand, unaware of how much Poppy was debating whether or not she was going to reach across the table and slap the smirk off of her face.

“It’s not like he asked me directly. So I don't want to embarrass myself and him at the same time. Louis is nice, but I’m not interested.”

Holy Crap, it was like talking to a wall. Poppy took her laptop from her bag and practically slammed it on the desk, like it was responsible for her irritation. She felt her eyes twitch in perfect unison as Erdene’s unrelenting gaze hardened.

“But, Poppy–” Erdene tried one more fudging time.

This was never going to end was it?

“But nothing,” Poppy finalized. Her gaze hardened, matching Erdene’s.

Erdene’s gaze softened as a new look took over her face. There was a small glint in her aquamarine eyes and a smirk tugging at her lips, ever so slightly. A squint in her eyes followed, so microscopic that if Poppy wasn’t so close, she would have missed it. Her friend was about to call her out. And she knew it.

“Oh, I get it. It’s because he’s not that dark, tall and handsome ex-convict, Toraki, huh? The one who’s podcast story you were tuned into on Saturday.”

Erdene was right, of course. Gosh darn it! After realizing who he was later that night after what she had thought was verbally duking it out on the steps, instead of being completely mortified, she became a woman possessed.

All Saturday, even after receiving her outline for her syllabus, Poppy put everything off in favor of listening to podcasts, watching documentaries, and reading news articles about Toraki Hara. It wasn’t that she was obsessed, she had always just been a curious person.

She read that he had a troubled childhood, bouncing from one foster home to another. His dad left when he was 8, close to when her mom had left her and her father. When he was 12, his mom basically handed him over to the government. When he was 13, he landed in juvenile detention centers for stealing anything he could because he would much rather live on the streets than in the foster system.

The footage of Tora in police custody crushed her. All he did was sit there and just take the accusations spewed from the questioning officers, like a beating that he had endured one too many times. He was worn down from the life that he was given and it showed. He even blew cigarette smoke into the officers’ faces, pretending he was in the room by himself.

When she got to the trial clips, he looked like he was waiting to torch the whole courtroom down with just one blink. He had spoken very little and when he did speak, it was only in the ear of his lawyer, Cordelia.

Poppy watched with pained eyes as the man squeezed his eyes shut, willing the world to go away when the guilty verdict was issued.

She cocked her head at something he had said in a later interview when he was asked by a reporter just a few days before his release.

“Mr. Hara, what have you done in your time here to keep yourself busy? Can you tell me and those watching at home a little about your daily life? And what do you plan on doing when you get released?”

And this time, he looked like a much different version of himself than he had presented in the courtroom, almost 6 years ago. Instead of being ready to scorch the reporter, Leslie, and her camera-men, he gave her a soft smile that Poppy didn't expect. Under that rough exterior concealed by tattoos, a husky voice, jet black hair, and blazing amber eyes, was something truly delicate.

“I’ve read a lot. Helped me get through tough shit. I’ve read more in the time I’ve been in this shithole than my whole fuckin’ life. I still plan on reading. It’s the one thing other than this goddamn cigarette that I can rely on,” Toraki had said, taking one last drag and stubbing it out in an aluminum ashtray, waving the smoke away.

“I see. And what kind of books do you like to read? Philosophy maybe? Self-help books, perhaps?” Leslie had asked as one of the camera’s zoomed in on his face.

Poppy found herself smiling when he let out a small snort.

“That’d be what everyone fuckin’ expects from one of Narin’s biggest train wrecks. But nah, I don’t read none of that philosophical bullshit no more. I used to, but it actually pissed me off more. I hate being inside of my own head. So instead, I decided to escape from these god forsaken prison walls. Kinda fucked up, but I laughed my fuckin ass off at a short story about this guy in the Cask of Amontillado by that Poe guy. Now that guy was fucked. Fuckin’ trapped alive, left to die,” Tora concluded.

“Well, Mr. Hara, I appreciate the time you took to speak with Narin National. Is there anything that you’d like to end this interview with, words of wisdom, perhaps?” the reporter had asked.

Toraki nodded his head in agreement.

“Am I to be thought the only criminal when all of mankind has sinned against me?” he had finalized in a rather poetic way, Poppy thought. Frankenstein, a man made monster, almost fit him.

Almost .

“Thank you, Mr. Hara.”

The clip stopped there. Poppy glanced down at the time on her laptop, widening her eyes when she realized she had just spent the last 10 hours fully immersed in learning more about Toraki Hara. She rolled her eyes at herself when she thought perhaps it was because she wanted to see him again.

Women probably threw themselves at him in a heartbeat. The only reason why they had that interaction was due to the fact that they were both being clumsy. The fact that he was there at the school was pure coincidence. And shoot, knowing that he was fresh out of jail, she was probably the last kind of woman he would seek out.

Guys like him, didn’t go for girls like her. She was short, a little too round in some places, didn’t have hypnotizing eyes, or much of a story to tell. She was Poppylan Wilkes, just a girl from a little town with nothing to offer other than gel pens, facts about plants, and advice on how to write a good essay.

Poppy looked up at Erdene after recalling what Poppy had settled on Saturday night.

“Oh, please. What would me and someone like him have in common? Have you seen him? Have you read his story?” Poppy asked seriously. 

“Girl, what are you even talking about?” Erdene asked. 

She looked at the willowy woman sitting across from her, asking herself if her friend was delirious.

Erdene’s eyes shifted and Poppy turned her head, noticing a shadow disappearing through the library doors.

“I’m talking about how you just put yourself down all of the time, don’t let anyone see you for who you are and YOUR story. Stop being so hard on yourself; let people in. You’re a beautiful person but no one sees that because you’re so intent on covering yourself up. It's like you’re afraid that if people see the real you, they will be disappointed,” Erdene said, her hand placed on Poppy’s. When it got there, Poppy wasn’t sure.

Poppy smiled softly at her friend, all ill feelings towards her vanishing. Erdene was clearly just trying to boost her mood like she always did.

“Anyways,” Poppy said, clearing her throat. “I still have to do this silly syllabus. Do you want to go and I’ll just ride the bus?” She turned her attention yet again to the laptop in front of her and powering it on.

“Ah. I’ll stick around. I just have stuff I need to work on in the art room. I can’t decide if I want to put up work that I have re-created for the classroom from the galleries I attended this summer or if I want to stop being so into myself and put up classic art.”

“I think you should do a little bit of both. Who knows, Dene, maybe one day, your art will be among the great painters of yesterday,” she said, remembering the beautiful artwork that her friend had created and sold and then recreated as if it was just a few flicks of an artbrush.

“See? Right there, Poppy; you’re so much more than you give yourself credit for. I think that’s a great idea. Thanks! Let me know when you’re done here and I’ll come get you. Or come get me while trying to navigate yourself through this maze of a school,” Erdene proposed as she stood to her full 5 feet 10 inches, without heels, stature.

Poppy just shook her head in amusement. “I’ll come look for you.” 

Erdene nodded in agreement, heading out of the library.

Poppy’s fingers pounded the keyboard in frustration, desperate to make the outline work. None of the ideas she liked went  along; she blanched when the default syllabus clearly preferred books that were so generic. She sighed when the “free write” wasn’t very liberal.

Before she knew it, three hours of scouring through notes, reading blogs on how to captivate and engage with students in the classroom had passed quickly. Her phone rang, signaling Poppy to get up from her chair and stretch. 

“Bitch are you done yet?” Erdene’s voice boomed at the other end of the call. “Everyone has gone home. You and I are the only ones left.”

Looking at the time, Poppy concluded that Erdene was right.

“Oh shoot! I didn’t even realize what time it was. I’m on my way.” She packed up her work, intent on coming back tomorrow, and slung her bag over her shoulder.

Meandering through the halls, with the help of Ulaan Academy’s map, she finally made her way up the stairs to Erdene’s room within the art department. She absent-mindedly wondered if her name too would soon be printed on the map right by her classroom.

As Poppy followed the soft melodies and melodramatic chords of Indie Pop flowing from the last room on the right, she felt some excitement trill through her.

“Erdene?” Poppy knocked on the wide-open door so she didn’t scare her friend.

Poppy took in the view of the art room; there were no desks, instead, there were numerous canvases, each with its own chair, circling around the center of the room. At the front of the room was Erdene’s spot, but instead of a desk, there was a huge sculpture of a hand she’d been working on.

To her right, she saw Erdene standing on one of the shelves, placing a piece of her latest work on the wall.

“Hey. What do you think? Can you go stand back behind me and see if it’s straight or not?” Erdene asked with a serious disposition, furrowing her perfectly sculpted brows.

Poppy did as she was asked and stood back, not looking at the painting itself but where it was placed and how it was placed. 

“Looks good. It's balanced!” Poppy said before Erdene huffed.

“Damn.”

“Is it not supposed to be balanced?” She gestured at the art piece in question.

“Art is never perfect. And dammit, I want this room to reflect that.” She tipped the top of the painting down to the right.

“Ok, well that’s better. It’s off balance now,” she said as Erdene hopped off of the shelf.

Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Erdene grinned down at Poppy.

“Thanks, girl. I didn’t want to have to climb down just to get back up again. You came just in time. Let's go get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Both of their stomachs gurgled in unison and they both laughed.

“Fine by me,” Poppy said as Erdene turned off the music, shut off the lights, and walked out of the door.

The next morning, Erdene and Poppy went back to Ulaan Academy;  Poppy needed to finish putting her classroom together and working on the rest of her syllabus. She noticed that none of the other faculty staff members were there.

She did see Mr. Lam, however, and he was talking to that “Jacob” guy about something with a stern look on his face.

By the looks of it, something had gone wrong and needed to be fixed right away. When she got to her room, after parting ways from Erdene, who went to make her perfect art room imperfect, she looked around at her space.

She removed her bag from her shoulder and placed a canister of alcohol wipes in the bottom drawer of her desk. When she looked back up, she sighed at the state of the student desks that sat in front of her. Remembering how unpleasant they felt, she pulled off a few sheets of wipes before making her way over to the desks.

Poppy found herself scrubbing the same desk for twenty minutes, determined as ever to get the stubborn grime off the surface, when she heard a wheel squeak.

Turning around, she saw a statue of a man in a blue jumpsuit with his head down, pulling a trash can behind him. Thick strands of jet black hair escaped from his cap. 

Poppy’s eyes widened as she recognized him. She wondered if he was part of a job placement company for ex-inmates; she had heard of those and she smiled, knowing that he was getting the help he needed.

Poppy decided to speak to him. Which to her, from the advice just given by Erdene the day before, was a step in the right direction.

“Oh, hey! I know you!” She smiled, standing to her full height of 5’2. His head snapped up and all courage that she had just mustered swiftly disappeared as dread took over.

His eyes were set on hers, a dark look all too familiar from the police custody and the courtroom videos. Poppy winced as the cold amber daggers skewered her.

“No, ya fuckin’ don’t.”

He turned away from Poppy after looking at the empty can by her desk and left the room. Her heart was beating wildly, and she almost doubled over from how petrified she was of the interaction. Any sympathy that she held for him since Saturday vanished along with Toraki Hara when he walked out of the room.

“I am malicious because I am miserable,” Poppy spat, in the words of Mary Shelley, scrubbing harder at the grime that would not budge.

Chapter Text

It was Tuesday afternoon, three weeks after starting his job at Ulaan Academy. Tora was fucking tired, and he just wanted to end his shift, go home, take a shower, and relax. But instead, he was cleaning up another goddamn mess created in the cafeteria when a kid tripped over someone's intentional foot, sending a variety of vegetables flying through the air. And what the fuck is that smell? 

Tora had been walking past the cafeteria on his way to the library to collect the trash when he saw the scene unravel in slow motion. First, a kid, tall, lean, and with brown hair that practically covered his eyes, minding his own goddamn business, was walking towards a table in the back. Then, some meathead in a bigass red and gold jacket with the letters "UA" in white on the breast stuck his foot out, which sent the tray, the kid, a questionable burger complete with the trimmings and canned carrots, corn, and green beans on an impromptu lesson on physics. It was followed by his soda, which had rocket launched itself across the room after landing, exploding on impact.

High schoolers were fucking assholes.

The lunch room erupted in laughter at the kid sprawled out on the floor in a mess. Tora's teeth ground together as he recalled the day in the courtroom when a witness made a joke at his expense; he was already humiliated enough. And like how the kid was probably feeling, Tora had wanted nothing more than for everything to go away.

Before Tora could see if he could turn the jock into a meat stick, she walked in. And fuck, she looked fucking pissed.

It was a sight to behold seeing Miss Poppy Wilkes storm in, looking fierce with clenched fists. That day, she was wearing those goddamn peach-colored pants along with a form-fitting white lace shirt with capped sleeves. Her hair was down, and her brown caramel tendrils swayed vigorously. Tora marveled at her while she bounced, not just on her feet, no doubt on her way to set things straight.

"Mason Porter. That is the second time since last Wednesday I have seen you trip Ben. Help clean this up," she scolded, one hand on her hip, the other gesturing at the floor vegetable medley. 

"And if I don't wanna help?" Mason asked, rising from his seat to his full height, arms folded across his chest and a smug ass grin on his face as he turned to look at his buddies in amusement. 

Miss Wilkes did not back down. Instead, she glared up at Mason, who was a whole head taller than she was. 

"You have a wrestling match this weekend, do you not?" Poppy asked in front of everyone before looking down, offering her hand to Ben.

Ben shooed her hand away, propped himself up on the table bench, and stood before angrily sending more of the vegetables into exile.  

Tora had to hold back a snort when what Miss Wilkes was hinting at slammed into Mason's brain. It was like his wires short-circuited while his eye twitched.

"You can't be serious," Mason sneered; the cafeteria was practically at a hush.

Some students came closer to get a better view, while others told their friends to shut the hell up so they could at least hear better. Tora was also closer to the interaction; he didn't even realize he had moved.

"Oh, I am. It would be a shame if Ulaan Academy lost because the star wrestler couldn't make it on a count of Saturday detention," she threatened. 

"In fact," she paused, turning her body to glare at the group of guys behind Mason before turning her attention back to him, "It would be a real shame if all of you had to forfeit the match this Saturday." 

A fit of complaints and wild limbs consisting of arms and hands were thrown left and right while Poppy stood there, her arms placed across her chest, her black flat-clad right foot tapping impatiently. 

Tora, being caught up in watching everything, didn't even notice Jacob had snuck up on him.

"What happened now?" Jacob asked, making Tora jump like a cat landing on a hot tin roof.

"Jesus, Jacob. Can ya announce yourself next time? Ya scared the sh-crap outta me," Tora chided the smaller man.

Tora didn't mind Jacob. He had some quirks, like complaining about the texture of pudding in the plastic cups, but he seemed fine with eating sandwiches drowned in mayonnaise. Tora’s preference for the floor over an actual bed was something he was working on overcoming.

There had even been a few instances where Jacob succeeded in making Tora crack a small smile. Most notably while shit-talking in the bathroom after a bowel bomb exploded in one of the toilets. 

"If ya really wanna know, that kid Ben got tripped by that Mason guy and Miss Wilkes threatened them with Saturday detention if they don't help clean up the mess," Tora explained as best as he could.

Jacob nodded in understanding as he threw an old rag over his right shoulder. They both watched on in silence, waiting for the next power move. 

"What's going on here?" a male voice came from behind Miss Wilkes. 

It was fuckin' Julri. Tora watched Miss Wilkes close her eyes and exhaled slowly, her fists balling up again before turning around and plastering on a smile. There she went again, getting pissed and fuckin' sexy as hell.

"These boys were just getting ready to help Ben pick up something they helped in spilling," she explained, her body language and voice walking a tightrope of patience and anger. 

But before Mason and his friends could answer, Julri dismissed her explanation almost as quickly as she gave it.

"We have janitors for that. In fact, they're right over there." Julri pointed over to Jacob and Tora. Poppy followed Julri's finger in the direction it was going. 

Tora tried to plaster a stoic look on his face, desperately grasping at a mask of indifference. But between his far and few in-between interactions with her that left him feeling fucking ashamed of himself, the quick crumble of how fast Julri had beaten her down, and the defeat in her once molten chocolate eyes, Tora couldn't do it. So he settled on a slight smirk.

She did not return the sentiment.

God Dammit.

Tora shrugged, looking over to Jacob, who rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. Alright. Break time is over," Jacob sighed as they rolled the janitorial cart over and into the cafeteria.

The show was over for the most part, and everyone returned to what they were doing. Ben fled the scene and Mason and his goons dismissed the altercation altogether as they sat back down. And Miss Wilkes ventured to a corner with Julri to speak with him.

Keeping busy, trying to look like he wasn't paying attention, collecting pieces of trash, and ignoring the girls around him giggling, Tora kept his ears trained on the conversation that was happening no more than 10 feet away.

"Julri, I understand that we have parts of the staff here to assist in clean-up; I don't appreciate that you just dismissed everything like what I said didn't matter. These boys need to be taught a lesson," she was explaining furiously.

"Oh, come on, it's not that big of a deal, Pops. Messes happen, boys will be boys, and Ben should have been watching where he was going," Julri retorted offhandedly.

Tora felt his eyes narrow and brows snap low. This guy was being an absolute asshole for no rea–well fuck him. God damn, Tora had been a complete asshole to her, too.

"Julri,don't call me that. I have told you numerous times that it's Poppy or Miss Wilkes. Never "Pops. If you’re not willing to reason with me on the bigger problem at hand, can you at least-”

Julri let out a cold, loud laugh as he tossed his head back before sauntering off. "OK, Miss Wilkes, have a good rest of your day."

"But I'm not done ta–" She was cut off as the lunch bell rang, signaling the end of the final block of time before all classes resumed for the rest of the day. 

Everyone fled the room, Julri included. The group of jocks practically side-swept her, making her move out of their way. Tora watched in mild disgust as he continued to pick up the trash like there was nothing to see, though he had seen enough. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and her bottom lip trembled before squaring her shoulders and walking out of the cafeteria. 

Still cleaning up from the afternoon lunch room, Jacob had spoken up, tearing Tora away from what had happened 30 minutes prior.

"It's bullshit," Jacob muttered.

Tora's eyes jerked up, taking his attention off of the ketchup.

"What's that?" Tora asked, leaning on a table next to him.

"Miss Wilkes is one of the nicest people I know, and everyone tramples on her. Like they don't take her seriously. Since starting here, she has been a breath of fresh air. She can sometimes be a little messy, but she always asks me if she needs to move when I'm cleaning her room. My wife, Megan, fell sick last week. I was emptying the trash when Miss Wilkes asked me how I was doing. I told her other than Megan being sick, I was fine. And she came in the next day with homemade chicken soup and told me to take it home,” Jacob explained before adding, “She must have stayed up late making it because her eyes were puffy.”

That day slammed into the forefront of Tora's mind. 

God fucking dammit.

_______________

It was a Wednesday afternoon. Jacob had left to go home early. Tora didn't ask why because he didn't give a shit that day. He didn't care about other people's problems after having to endure a cold fucking shower, and more of Joe's bar of soap that smelled like fake mint had a baby with pipe tobacco. He also didn't get much sleep the night before as the AC still hadn't been fuckin' fixed. "Joe's Pal" had skipped town, and Tora hadn't received his first whole paycheck. 

To say his mood was foul would be an understatement.

He was written a task list of what rooms needed to be cleaned. Tora groaned, muttered, and cursed a string of explicit choice words. He had avoided Miss Wilkes, since overhearing a conversation with him being the subject. Then, the next day, she dared to claim she knew him, sweeping her words under the rug. 

He trailed the trash and other cleaning supplies on his cart to her room, hoping she wasn't in there. But as his luck had turned out, because fuck him, she was. 

Miss Wilkes was discussing her grievances with one of her students. She was sitting at her desk with an exasperated look on her face.

"Ben, listen, I know it's tough for you. I understand. But you need to turn in your assignments. I am more than happy to help you if you need it. So what is it that you need from me?"

"Nothing. Just get off of my back. When I'm interested in something, I do it. Your assignments aren't interesting," Ben had answered honestly. 

Tora had to give the kid credit. He spoke his mind and wasn't afraid to do it. Not taking any shit from someone who didn't have a fucking clue what it was like not to be fucking perfect. 

Miss Wilkes sighed and finally noticed that Tora was waiting on her as she twisted her head to his attention, dismissing Ben.

"We will talk about this later, Ben. Please think about my offer, though. You're a smart kid," she explained as Ben just shrugged and walked out of her classroom.

Tora walked in as Poppy was putting her laptop away, pointedly ignoring him. Fine with him; he didn't wanna fucking talk to her either. She sighed again, scowling at the stack of papers she had on the desk before her.

Tora snorted at how flustered she was. Nothing was going her way that day, boo fucking hoo.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she said, head whipping in his direction. Brows furrowed, her eyes packing heat.

"Nah. Just must be really hard to be so fucking perfect," Tora spat. No humor in his tone.

"Excuse me?" she shrieked, coming over to him, looking appalled.

"Ya heard me. Ya wanna get on these kids' asses who have a bad life at home? Then ya fuckin' parade around acting like ya know what they're going through though ya ma and pa probably raised ya with a god damn silver spoon in ya mouth? Wise up, sweetheart. Life ain't a fuckin fairytale, and you live in the real world," Tora explained as her face morphed into a horrified, heartbroken look. 

Her mouth dropped, and she clamped it back together. Tora noticed a small tear well up in the corner of her eye; her lip was trembling too. She probably never had someone be so honest with her before.

Squaring her shoulders and renewing her vigor, Miss Wilkes blasted right past him. He smirked and then suddenly lost his smile when he turned around, seeing her friend, Erdene, openly gawking at him.

He grunted. "What?"

"What the fuck did you say to her?" Erdene asked, hands on her waist and eyes growing from an ocean blue to a stormy sky.

"The fuckin' truth. She's got a stick up her ass because she doesn't understand what it's like to be a kid in a tough spot," Tora spat as he rounded her desk, collecting the trash.

"Jesus Christ. You're a piece of work. So you go around after being imprisoned for something you didn't do, yet you have no problem stuffing someone in a box? I hope it makes you feel fucking fantastic at the end of the day," Erdene seethed right back at him. 

Tora didn't fucking care, though. He had heard enough. Dismissing her with a shoulder shrug, he finally picked up the trash and transferred it into the bin on wheels.

"Oh, and one more thing, you're wrong. Her mom left her when she was 8, and her dad died just before she graduated high school. So, before you judge someone, why don't you wait to hear their story before deciding on their true character? I think you would know all about that, Toraki Hara," Erdene reprimanded him, not holding back. She flipped her ponytail in disgust and chased after what he had assumed to be a completely devastated Miss Wilkes.

Fuck.

______________

And then she went home and made fucking chicken noodle soup for Jacobs's wife, Megan.

Learning that last bit tore at Tora. It re-opened the flood of guilt he had tried to patch up for the whole fucking week.

"Fuckin' Christ," Tora muttered as the last of the strewn fruit cocktail was wiped up and thrown into the garbage pail.

"Well, anyway, do the library next, and I'll take care of the art department. We should be good to go after that. The night crew will do the rest," Jacob concluded, ignoring the anguish radiating off of Tora.

Tora nodded, and they both went their separate ways after the satisfaction of a now clean cafeteria radiated through the air. Instead of the festering smell of mystery meat and teenage hormones running rapidly, it smelled of lemon. The floors muddled with food of all shapes, sizes, and textures were now sparkling clean. Spic and span.

Going into the library, hoping to find a book or five to bring home, Tora perused the aisles just a bit before starting the job he was tasked with. It wouldn't take him long, maybe an hour tops, if he went fast. The library was all but abandoned except for the uptight librarian, Mrs. Haru, the keeper of the books. She was always so stingy about how many people could check out; if it were a late return, she'd charge you a quarter.

"CAT...CAT…CAT..." He heard a familiar, soft voice say. There she fuckin' was. Miss Poppy Wilkes in the same fucking section he was about to go into. Christ. 

"Why is Catcher in the Rye up there?! That makes absolutely no sense. Someone needs to re-do these," she scoffed, damning the books for their involuntary placement on the shelves.

Tora watched her huff, growl, and then square her shoulders again as she met her resolve. She placed her hands on each side of the ladder, looked up, and took a deep breath before starting her climb up to get the damn Catcher in the Rye book. He watched with a bated breath as her hips swung like a clock on a pendulum, her ass teasing him like a fucking peach.

It shouldn't have surprised Tora, her being the kind of crazy to climb up the ladder. And if he had to be honest, she had fuckin' balls that of a hamster or some shit. He snorted at the memory of being in a foster home, and the foster mom brought one home. That fuckers balls were fuckin' huge. No wonder the day on the stairs, she didn't mind calling him out on his shit. 

God Damn, she really was going all the way up there.

"Ah ha! There you are!" Miss Wilkes exclaimed, yanking it from its wrong place.

She put the book between her perfectly round tits and arm.

Before she made her way down, she took another breath, and Tora was leaning on a table, watching in amusement as she started her descent. 

Then, they both heard it at the same fucking time. The ladder had a crack at the very top and gave way under her weight. Her wide brown eyes looked down at Tora in horror before crying, “Oh, fudge!”

Tora ran over as fast as his feet could carry him, firmly holding his stance, rooted like a tree, waiting for her to land.

The next thing he knew, they were both on the floor, panting heavily from the blunt force intrusion of boobs and biceps. She was staring at him, lips parted, a brush of pink striped across her face, and fuck if she wasn't fucking gorgeous. 

She started giggling nervously, a different reaction from what he was expecting. He'd at least appreciate a "Thank You" or some shit, not a fucking laugh.

"I'm so sorry. I'm-- haha –not laughing at you–I'm ha –this day has been absolute crap. Thank you for catching me," she said, wiping tears from her eyes as he studied her suspiciously. It hadn't even crossed his mind that she was still lying on top of him.

"Oh god. I'm so sorry. You're not hurt, are you?" she asked seriously, her tits squished up in his fucking face.

"Nah, I'm fine," he said with a grunt, pushing her shoulders away from him, gesturing wordlessly to her to get the fuck off before he started sporting a fucking hard-on. 

Her eyes grew wide, and she stood straight up. She offered her hand to help someone significantly larger than her up for the second time that day, and he readily took it. Her eyes were soft now, not the harsh dark chocolate they were the week before.

She smiled at him warmly, her eyes twinkling as she picked up her book. "Well, thanks again." Miss Wilkes offered before she nodded and started to walk off.

Tora sighed, looked up to the ceiling, and came to a decision. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Wait...I have something I need to say." 

Miss Wilkes stopped dead in her tracks, turned around, looked at him with a raised brow, and smiled. “Oh? And, what would that be?” she asked as she sat down haphazardly on a table's edge. Her legs were swinging and she held the book in her lap.

“I know I’m very hard to talk to. I realize that,” Tora sighed, his hands twisting together, hoping she would recognize the quote from the book on her lap.

Miss Wilkes looked at the book on her lap, smiling at it. She then put it on the table beside her. She gestured for him to continue before adding, "Go on. I'm listening."

Chapter Text

When Poppy woke up that Tuesday morning, her planner did not include falling into the arms of someone she had been avoiding. Well one of them at least, Julri being the first. Nor did the forecast call for rain.

Both, if not all three hopes failed her spectacularly.

When Poppy walked into the teacher's lounge that morning, her hair frizzy with no hair tie to be found and clothes all but soaked, she needed just a bit of caffeine and warmth after running through the rain. 

She immediately saw and waved at Mr. Smithy. He seemed distressed as he half-heartedly waved back, canting his head down while rubbing his temples in a slow, circular motion. 

Smiling to herself she walked over to the coffee machine, grabbing her mug from the maple-colored butcher block counter in the process. 

The cup was from a traveling book fair her father and she attended yearly. It was initially his before he got sick and it said, "Quote the passive aggressive raven, "Nevermind." in crimson lettering against the black mug. Perched on a red branch was a silhouette of a raven, wearing a scowl firmly planted on his face.

Poppy caught the sound before she could laugh, the raven bringing it to her mind reminded her of a grumpy janitor. She banished the thought and reminded herself he was someone she shouldn't be thinking about despite listening to another podcast about him the night before.

Before she could put her cup under the machine that would lead her on her journey to feeling human again, someone came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder, causing her to lose grip of the priceless ceramic. She had barely caught it before turning around to address them. And to Poppy's dismay, it was Julri, and Mr. Smithy seemed to have slipped out of the lounge just in time for them to be alone.

Julri had the nerve to ask her if what she was wearing was work-appropriate, his eyes more south of her neck than she liked. His reasoning being there were male students and male faculty members who walked the same halls. 

Then, before she could even get a word in, the bell rang, and he offered to walk her to her classroom as if he hadn't just insulted her.

She pointedly ignored him, stepping around his body, and could hear a distinct "bitch" coming from behind her. Not wanting to cause another "distraction" she hurried to her class with an empty coffee cup and eyes full of tears that she swiped away before the first period began.

It didn’t hit her at what Julri was hinting at until a girl in her first-period class, Yuwa, was wearing a rain-soaked white shirt, asking for a sweater to cover up. Which led to a very heated discussion between Yuwa and the student behind her, Ulaan, yelling at him to stop treating her like she was an incompetent child. His comment “Maybe you should have planned better” set Yuwa off. 

The pair arguing was almost a daily ritual which inevitably led to another daily ritual of Poppy having to tell them that making out in the hallway was not appropriate.

Then, between the third and fourth periods, Julri had snuck up on her when she was reading Ben's first assignment he handed in since starting the school year. It was a profound piece of work, and Poppy was so engrossed in it; reading about why he chose The Catcher in the Rye that she hadn’t noticed Julri standing right next to her.

He had asked her what she was doing, to which she startled, her heart skipping a dangerous beat while her lungs took in a tremendous amount of air. Her hand knocked over her slightly opened canteen of water, which spilled all over her desk.

She understood then why most teachers never allow drinks on top of the desks in class.

He asked some asinine questions that he could have looked up on the school calendar. Poppy hadn’t paid enough attention. She waved her hand towards the door, willing the man to just leave her alone.

Julri muttered a few choice words upon her second dismissal of him that day and he left as students were walking in. Being left with a stack of soggy paper and wet pants, again, Poppy audibly moaned at all the hard work became illegible as the ink bled.

Why this man was so intent on making her life a living hell was so beyond her. She had seen Mimi fawn over him multiple times. It was clear that she was into him and Poppy had tried to make it clear that she wasn’t.

Then lunchtime happened—that horrible, horrible lunch hour. Poppy had seen that assault on Ben coming from a mile away. It had mainly been due to Mason, her senior student, talking loudly in the fourth period about how he got a kick out of tripping the kid. Since she was on cafeteria duty that rainy day, she’d made sure to keep her eyes and ears trained. 

Poppy almost had a grip on the situation when Julri had stepped in again, unwelcomed. Then, as if he hadn’t undermined and embarrassed her enough, he pointed at Jacob and the other jerk she’d been avoiding. Toraki must have been enjoying the show, from his smile. Probably as much as Julri had enjoyed orchestrating the whole thing.

After lunch but before her last class of the day started, she decided to take it upon herself to find the book that inspired one of her brightest students and his essay. She needed a bit of a moment to breathe anyways and the smell of the library always seemed to do just the trick of soothing her. 

She remembered the quote Ben had used: "I'm hard to talk to, I realize that." She had been about to read what the quote meant to him when the universe decided it wasn’t done ruining her day. 

A broken ladder rung was how she found herself lying on top of Toraki Hara in the library. The man who’d been framed for murder and spent nearly six years in prison had just saved her life.

She had hoped that her last words would be more noteworthy than "cat" or "fudge" and thankfully, he had made sure of that. As she comically lifted him up from the floor, she noticed a softness in his eyes.

Taking a deeper look, she noticed they weren’t just a golden honey, but they had flecks of the color in a deeper shade, harsh on the outer rim of his irises, but softening in the center.

Despite how much time he spent cleaning up around the school, she had to admit, He didn’t smell that bad. There was a lingering scent that reminded her of camping trips. The rich pine mixed with a roaring fire, had Poppy thinking of one of her books, with the spine facing in. 

She was stuck in limbo. While she was grateful that he was there to catch her, he had still said some horrible things to her last week, and she still wasn't up to talking to him outside of this ordeal.

She quickly thanked him, and now, with the book in hand, she had every intention of returning to her room, choosing to leave it for another day, along with some improper thoughts.

"Wait...I have something to say."

Poppy stopped mid-stride and planted her feet, grounding them lest her nerves decided to team up with gravity.

Taking a moment, willing her mouth not to speak ahead of her brain, she took a deep breath and counted down from three.

By the time she had rotated enough to see Toraki from her peripheral vision, she had noticed his hands were twisting within each other. His brows furrowed, and a pleading look overtook his usually gruff features.

Darn it.

She looked to her side, located the table, and promptly sat on its edge before speaking, opening her face with as much softness as the storm brewing inside her would allow.

"Oh? And, what would that be?" she asked, her curiosity piqued at that moment. What could he possibly have to say to her? More damning words? 

Her legs started kicking on their own accord, her nervous habit dancing with his. He looked up at her, well, at her lap, eyeing her book. At least he wasn't staring at her chest.

"I know. I'm very hard to talk to. I realize that." Toraki sighed. She instantly recalled the quote from earlier, not for the first time that day. She knew he was a reader, but goodness, he had just impressed her enough to smile slightly at the book in her lap before placing it on the table.

"Go on; I'm listening." She gestured for him to continue as he took another shaky breath. 

He took another step closer, closing the wide gap between them by just a few inches. 

"What I said to ya, it was fucked up," he started, his voice low and gravelly. "I shouldn't have said that." His eyes went to and fro between hers as they widened at the admissions. He stepped forward again and planted himself in a chair in front of her, lower than her. 

Poppy suspected there was more to what he was trying to say, but the words were trapped, just like he had been. And just like the day he was set free, he needed some assistance getting there.

While the seconds passed into moments, her gaze never faltered or flinched away, despite how her sweat glands were starting to give way under the impromptu staring contest.

"Do you know why I said those things to ya?" he asked, breaking the silence and re-focusing on the book. Then, reaching over and taking it, he fiddled with the crimson-colored cover with soft amber lettering. He grazed over it with his thumb before carefully opening it and inspecting its contents. 

Guessing it was because he's an insensitive asshole wasn't the proper answer in this situation, even if it would have been a precise answer. It played on the tip of her tongue before Poppy bit it back and swallowed it down.

"Tell me," Poppy stated, all too eager to hear what rich explanation he had. She wanted to listen to it regardless of whether it was a good explanation.

Taking a deep breath, she hopped off the table and found her own chair across from him to be more on his level. At first, the look he gave her as she moved was severe. It was as if he couldn't believe she dared to walk away from him. Then, a slight smirk tugged at his lips and a little twinkle was playing along his eyes. As his body language relaxed, Toraki's resolve must have renewed. 

"It's because a few weeks ago, I was in here, waitin' for Jacob. I overheard ya and ya friend with the hair." 

Poppy stilled. He probably felt like she was drooling all over him. She had heard many of her female students and even some of the faculty swoon over him. It couldn't be easy being out and under a microscope. She knew how it felt to be scrutinized, especially with the day she was currently having.

"Yeah, so anyways. I heard ya say, "people like him." I didn't like it much, and I left. Ya don't even know me and, to be honest, I'm tired of people thinkin' they know me. Ya know, just cause ya hear about me and shit don't mean ya fuckin' know someone. It irritates the fuck outta me. D'ya always assume things about people based on how they look?" 

Poppy couldn't breathe; he was practically stretching across the table, caging her in even though all she would have to do was move backward to escape her confines. It took her a moment for his words to take hold of what he was insinuating. Then, like a twig snapping, the tension she had been feeling all day, heck all damn month, released. She shot up and his gaze followed her.

"Oh, how perfect," she scoffed, taking the book out of his grasp, ready to leave.

"Excuse me?" he retorted, his words just as clipped, brows narrowing as he started to stand at his full height.

"This whole time, you have been so horrible to me based on an assumption. If you had stayed the entire time, you would have heard every single. little. thing. I admitted to my friend with the hair.” Poppy seethed as she gestured towards her hair with exaggeration.

“Do you know what else I said? Do you want to know? Or would you rather keep assuming that was all I said?" Poppy continued. The once quiet and welcoming spaces now filled with the wrath in her words.

She clenched her fists, the book somehow finding itself being held in the tight grip between her side and arm. She glared up at the man, whose lips curled with a snarl. 

"I-" Toraki started before she deftly cut him off.

"And another thing!" she half shouted and rounded the table, intent on getting into his bubble. She threw the book onto the surface, so she didn't try to hit him with it.

"You wanna talk this big game about how you don't like how people assume things about how you look? Well, good sir, I have news for you. Sometimes, what it sounds like isn’t what they’re like either. So, please stop assuming things about me." She was on her tiptoes, meeting him glare for glare, as she found herself practically breathless.

"Ya right," he muttered, his words leaving her baby hairs twirling around her face.

"And! Wait." She paused, taking a step back, and craned her head only to see sorrow in place of the rage from moments earlier.

"I said, ya right. That was pretty fucked up of me. I just...I mean, I don't...Christ. I'm trying to say, I'm sorry, OK? My manners are shit. My mood has been shit. Everything has just been shit and..."

The sincerity of his words and his tone extinguished her anger, making her respond gently. "Sounds like you did say sorry, which I accept. It wasn't too bad of an apology, either," she offered warmly, picking up the book and looking at him over her shoulder. That’s all she really wanted. Well, after she told him off. But she took it to heart, all the same.

"What's your name anyways?" Poppy asked, determined for a proper introduction that didn't include shouting or assumptions.

His mouth curled upwards, a grin spreading across his features, complete with dimples.

"Come on. Ya know my name," Toraki huffed out, amusement in his tone as he walked over to the trash can he abandoned earlier.

"Are you assuming I know your name? Really? I could guess. Is it...Tony?" she asked cockily, her head tilted to the side, examining his face.

"Nah, guess again." He smiled at the answer, pulling the trash can behind him as the bell rang.

Walking out of the library and into the sea of students, she bit her lip in feigned concentration.

"It's Totoro. You definitely strike me as a Totoro." She laughed as his face fell.

"The fu-heck is a Totoro?" Toraki had asked, looking down at her. The sincerity of his confusion made her want to keep playing this game, absolutely giddy at seeing how this day had turned around.

She noticed out of the windows that the rain had stopped and there was a bit of sun shining through the lobby. 

"Come on, quit ya teasing. What is it?" he asked with an eye roll but with the same slight smirk. 

They were practically at her classroom now, and she didn't even realize he had been walking with her the whole way. He was standing at the threshold, leaning up against the wall.

As they stood there, she gestured wildly and exhaled, exasperated. "Okay, fine. It's Toraki Hara. Is that right? Did I get it right?" 

"That it is. But ya can call me Tora." He laughed, walking her through her classroom as if he had done it hundreds of times.

"Okay, now what about me? Do you know my name?" she asked stupidly since her desk had a placard saying "Miss Wilkes" and her diploma displayed behind her desk with her full name. She sat at her desk, folding her hands and looking up at him as Tora squinted at her wall.

To her delight, though, he played along. She had seen him look around while he was cleaning the few and far between times he was there. Sometimes, she saw him grab the books from her small shelf or gently caress the coffee mug as if he just knew  how much it meant to her. He'd also peered at the contents on her desk and the wall plaques. 

He knew her name but had been seen tinkering with the idea of getting to know her more.

"Is it...hmmm..let's see...is it...Bobbylan Wilmer?" 

Poppy’s head snapped back with a loud laugh as students started trickling in, forgetting where both where her and Tora were and what time it was as if they didn't just walk through the school.

She shook her head as she muffled her laugh with a hand.

"Is it...shoot...I don't know. Just tell me." He raised a sarcastic brow in challenge, standing next to her diploma.

Noticing more students were trickling in, she gave in.

"Fine. It's Poppylan Wilkes. But that's a strange name. So you can just call me Poppy. Or Miss. Wilkes. Just please, not Pops. Please," she pleaded as he nodded. 

Before he could respond, a voice, much like Jacobs, came over the hand-held two-way radio, beckoning Tora to answer.

"Go for Tora."

Between a few static responses and a grunt, Tora turned to leave her classroom while a few female students looked at him with appreciation and studied her.

"Oh hey, Poppylan, remember.” He nodded to her mug, “That Poe guy once said, "There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion," Tora said to her before disappearing from her sight.

Poppy allowed herself a smile while looking at the mug and thought of him again. 

But all for a completely different reason.

The beauty was exquisite and so strange, bizarre even. Despite how disproportioned the day had been, there had been moments that offered her happiness and warmth. And they were filling her chest instead of the anxiety that had been her constant companion. 

She absent-mindedly wondered if they would have more interactions like the one they just had. 

Before she was about to acknowledge her last class of the day, intent on enjoying introducing the upcoming book they were going to start on, her classroom phone rang. And her heart and good mood plummeted.

"Yes?" 

"Mr. Lam needs to speak with you."

Chapter Text

" Location of incident: Library

Time: Around 2 PM

Complaint made by: Aiko Haru; Librarian

Written down in chicken scratch was a formal complaint from the librarian, Mrs. Haru. Both women sat side by side in Principal Lam's office. Though to Poppy, she felt front and center. The last time she was in his office, she was being interviewed for a teaching position. Mr. Lam had been warm and inviting. It tickled her the first time that she saw the owl-shaped paperweight on his desk. It even had glasses, kind of like Mr. Lam. But now, chancing a look at the figure, it too was looking at her with unbridled judgment.

From Poppy’s peripheral left as she studied the paper, Mrs. Haru's steely brown eyes were narrowed in her direction with her arms folded across her chest. The woman's foot tapped while Poppy continued to read the report. When her eyes fell on the fourth line, she stumbled, not completely sure what she had just read. So, she decided to read it out loud for good measure.

“ Cause of complaint: Damage to school property from Miss Wilkes....? ”

Staring at the paper in disbelief, Poppy blinked, still not confident if she read it correctly.

A small huff came from the agitated woman to her left.

Poppy closed her eyes as she placed the statement on the desk, sliding it away from her as if the further away it was, the less threatening it became.

The sounds of paper brushing the surface, the constant tapping of Mrs. Haru's black, blunt heel, and the ticking of the bronze table clock on Mr. Lam's desk were practically deafening compared to the silence coming from all three people.

"Mr. Lam, I-'' Poppy started as she attempted to anchor herself, gripping her hand to the tan leather chair, the trimmings of warm acacia wood. Before she could continue, he raised his hand, silencing her.

Her mouth clamped shut and her eyes widened. She fidgeted, not quite sure what to do. So, she swung her legs, not for the first time that day, out of habit. Her gaze flitted to her feet, grasping at them for a distraction.

Her lip curled up in a snarl as she gazed at the limbs moving to and fro. Her feet were pale like the rest of her body; that was no secret. But were they always that veiny? 

"If there's one thing I will not tolerate at my school, Miss Wilkes, it is unruly teenagers." 

Mr. Lam's words forced Poppy's eyes off her feet and onto his face. His lips pressed flat as he folded his hands together, leaning onto his cedar desk. If she understood correctly, he had compared her to one of the many students that caused a ruckus day in and day out. 

"Tell me, Miss Wilkes, what exactly were you thinking when you broke the ladder?"

If this were the time for honesty, she wouldn't be ashamed to announce to her audience that she was glad someone was there to catch her. Latching on to that thought, Poppy waited a moment to decipher if it was her turn to speak. Then, she took a shaky breath, ready to defend herself.

"Why does it matter? We have to replace it, regardless. And, you know as well as I do that the budget for the library doesn't include damaged property." Mrs. Haru sneered and stabbed her pointer finger in Poppy's direction. 

Mr. Lam nodded; whether it was in agreement or weighing the librarian's words, Poppy didn't know. However, she was unimpressed with how both of them refused to acknowledge that she had something to say.

"And I failed to mention that she was yelling at someone in my library. I saw it all happen before I went  back to my duties."

"So, first, she breaks the ladder, then yells?" Mr. Lam asked, his silver brow arched, and he pushed up his glasses to their rightful place from where they slid on the slope of his nose. He reached for the report in front of Poppy, and taking a red and gold pen with the "Warriors" logo, he jotted something down in continuation of Mrs. Haru's complaint.

"Yes. That's correct. And quite honestly, I don't want her in there if all she will do is cause problems." Mrs. Haru added, only fueling the fire of Poppy's rage. 

Poppy's blood was a tiny ember of heat at first when she willed herself to hear Mrs. Haru out. However, the older, more experienced woman was not reciprocating. And what was worse? They kept talking about her as if she wasn't in the room. Why was it that everyone, for as long as she remembered, overlooked her? Even though her knees weren’t scraped and her hair wasn’t in disheveled braids, she still felt like the little girl that no one took seriously, casting her aside while the rest of the kids went off to play. So many times had she been rejected while the other children laughed and whispered over their shoulders as Poppy watched them disappear into the distance. 

Even Julri had dismissed her several times that day. They were supposed to be equals; colleagues and the man just couldn’t find it in himself to see her as such. In the cafeteria at lunch, in the morning before her first-period class when all she wanted was coffee, and when he had come up and startled her between classes; each time he had dismissed her as if she didn’t matter.

More than that though? She glared at the diploma, encased in worn-down gold, the color starting to flake, revealing black plastic that was hanging on the wall behind Mr. Lam. Did she not also have a diploma? While hers wasn’t in a once grandiose frame, it was just as relevant, was it not?

"Care to elaborate, Miss Wilkes?" Mr. Lam asked, the pen's ballpoint disappearing as he clicked on the end.

Poppy let out a small huff, amused that while Mr. Lam kept asking her to explain, every time she tried to, there was an interruption. She took a split second, coming to a quick resolution; thinking of the only person it seemed who had heard her that day.

"I would love to explain myself. However, I don't think I would be successful, as both of you have made it abundantly clear that I have no respect for property or individuals. I was even compared to a teenager. This is the first time I am able to get a word in edgewise. I feel that I'm not regarded as a faculty member. You asked me what I was thinking at the time, but instead, I'll tell you what I'm thinking now; I want you to call Tora to the office to help explain the situation, seeing as he was the one who witnessed the whole thing." 

Maybe it was a stretch. Would Mr. Lam agree to it? Would Tora? Perhaps he would think of it as a sick joke. But, on the other hand, he seemed open to hearing her out earlier in the day. Maybe if she explained the situation, he wouldn't be opposed to it. But would she be able to find him before he came into the office?

Poppy smiled to herself at the conversation with Tora just before he left her classroom. Bobbylan Wilmer. She rolled her eyes absent-mindedly thinking about how he read her diploma.

Mr. Lam, though, must have taken her body language and tone for flippancy. "Miss Wilkes, it would behoove you to take this matter seriously. You are already stretching my patience. Quite thin, I may add."

Regaining her focus, Poppy retorted at his remark,  "And I assure you, Mr. Lam, I am quite aware of the position I have found myself in. I am not taking this matter lightly at all. I still stand by my request to have Tora come-"

"Who is this Tora fellow you keep bringing up? Is he a student?" Mrs. Haru asked, cutting Poppy off.

"If you must know, Tora is the janitor, not a student who caught me as I fell from the ladder. You should know since you witnessed the whole thing." Poppy directed toward the woman next to her. Poppy's blood was a flame, eager to burn out of control.

"That delinquent?” Mrs. Haru gasped as her hand flew dramatically to her chest. “I knew I recognized him. He's the one who went to prison for murder. Mr. Lam, let me make another thing clear, I do not feel comf-"

A loud sigh came from Mr. Lam, cutting off Poppy and Mrs. Haru, as well as their heated exchange of words. Both women watched silently as he picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear. He dialed a short series of numbers. Secretary Audrey's voice came from the receiving end.

"Get Toraki in here, please. Thank you." Mr. Lam hung up the phone and looked at Poppy and Mrs. Haru.

"Both of you go back to your respective duties. Students need to be taught, and I'm sure books must be put away. I'm having Toraki come in here upon Miss Wilkes' request. But I cannot and will not have more squabbling over this matter. So you are both free to go." Mr. Lam finalized, his hand gesturing towards the closed door.

"Mr. Lam,-" Mrs. Haru started as Poppy took her cue to leave. 

"That wasn't a suggestion," he said as Poppy glanced over her shoulder to look back at his face. It was impassive. Mrs. Haru puffed up while she stood up with closed fists. Poppy stepped out of her way and followed the angry woman's trail into the front office's empty common space. Mrs. Haru disappeared swiftly into the library.

When Poppy got halfway to her room, her flats clacking across the hardwood floors, she saw Tora and froze. He had a frown on his face, complete with a furrowed brow. From what she could tell anyway since he was wearing a ball cap too.

Looking down and shuffling with the rolling trash bin with a squeaky wheel, Tora advanced toward Poppy. She squared her shoulders, refusing to let any further misunderstandings between the two of them happen. She wasn’t quite sure what her need was to have this man with a bad attitude accept her so much, but the desperation was there regardless.

"Hi there, Tora," Poppy greeted him nervously. This was a bad idea, now that she thought of it.

Really thought of it.

She shouldn’t have been so haste in asking for this. No, not asking, insisting that Tora comes to help her. She wanted to kick herself. What if instead of agreeing to it, he said no? What if he said the wrong thing if he did say yes? What if he didn’t say anything? She had seen more than enough of her fair share of video clips featuring him during interrogations and interviews. Sometimes, hours would pass on the time lapse before someone would inevitably throw in the proverbial towel and give up trying to get a word out of him.

But there was no going back now. He was no doubt on his way to Mr. Lam's office.

He stopped dead in his tracks and his eyes lifted to meet hers. The frown retreated into a slight smirk, a dimple to compliment the look. His eyes, which were narrowed and no doubt a scorching shade of amber just moments before, softened and were now bright, full of mirth. 

Poppy cocked her head to the side, taking him in. Moments before, she was in a room full of warm colors; the tan chairs, the warm reds, and golds from the school colors were everywhere. Knick knacks among shelves on the walls, aged pictures of Mr. Lam and what she had assumed was of him and his wife; their children. The photos were of them laughing, enjoying each other’s company. Even his appearance reminded her of a grandpa in his burgundy polyester sweater and wrinkled face. 

And that stupid owl.

Then there was Tora. He was in a denim jumpsuit, a cool contrast from his warm olive skin. His matching hat, in the light they were in, cast a small shadow on his face. If his sleeves were pushed up, she would also see the koi and peonies tattoos, a palette of oranges and pink with hints of green scattered on his arms. But no, they were hiding, just below the surface.

There was nothing to their surroundings but glass cases full of shiny plastic which boasted the accolades of the school's history. Pictures of the teams were mantled along the walls, the athletes had been posed to perfection. 

Poppy let out another small huff, recollecting a poem by Beau Taplin, his book taking up residency on her nightstand back at home. She had found it one day the week before as she perused the bookstore after searching for it at the school library.

“But people are oceans. You cannot know them by their surface”

With the slight breeze cascading from the vents, the smell of summer up in the mountains, pine, and fire, made its way over to her once more, reminding Poppy all over again of when he held her for a brief moment. 

"Well, hello again, Miss Wilkes." 

Chapter Text

Tora looked around the small, stuffy office as he sat in the undersized, uncomfortable wooden chair across from Mr. Lam’s desk. His eyes flitted to the browns and reds scattered around the room. The warmth of the colors did nothing to dull out Mr. Lam's icy greeting a few moments before. He had never been inside of the office until now. Well, that wasn’t true. The day that he had started, Jacob had instructed him to familiarize himself with Mr. Lam's office, which led to a very heated discussion between the older man and Jacob.

That’s when Tora was instructed to go to Poppy’s room. Jacob said it was just a misunderstanding, but Tora overheard them talking. Mr. Lam didn’t want someone who had just been released from prison, guilty or not, cleaning his personal office. For fucks sake, he went to prison on a murder charge. He wasn’t a thief. Regardless, the man didn’t trust him and Tora would just have to respect that.

Tora still wasn’t quite sure what had possessed him to agree to this. But now here he was, with a glass paperweight shaped like an owl staring at him.

Maybe it was the desperation oozing from Poppy’s voice as she explained to him that Mrs. Haru was trying to ban her from the library. How was a literature teacher supposed to do her goddamn job if she didn’t have access to the school library?

Maybe it was because Tora had treated Poppy like shit and he wasn’t in any position to tell her to fuck off. He’d done that plenty in the past few weeks.

Or maybe, quite possibly, he wanted to help? She had caught him off guard and the frown he had been wearing after getting a warranted, though annoying, ribbing from Jacob turned hastily into a smile. He had been caught smirking at how Poppy had blushed before Tora had left her classroom. But seeing her there before him, as she asked for help and her bottom lip worrying itself, the same pink cheeks that had almost caused him to blush, something inside him came tumbling down.

The only times he had ever helped anyone willingly there had been something in it for him. Any other time, it hadn’t gone without resistance.

In prison, he fished shit out from a clogged toilet that earned him 13 pennies per hour. At this job, he got paid for cleaning up messes people had created, earning him a more substantial wage of 13 dollars an hour. His cleaning at Joe's place allowed him to sleep on a shitty couch and eat. Though, in all honesty, Tora would concede that if he didn’t clean, Joe would do a shit job of it between his shifts.

For fucks sake, even when he worked for old Alice back in his teenage years, he nickeled and dimed the hell out of the old bat for each side job she had him do. 

Sure, when he was much younger, whenever his ma would ask for help in the kitchen, back when her eyes were a bright gold filled with nothing but admiration for him, he readily jumped in. 

They would spend Friday mornings in line at the “Bread Basket” to get their fill as his dad worked at his “dead-end job” at some factory. If they had enough beer cans, they'd turn them in for cash at the recycling center.

On the rare occasions that the money was enough, his mom would buy a baking mix, it was always chocolate cake. They would return home with their eggs, milk, and anything else they had been supplied with from the “Bread Basket”, intent on filling the small space with a mouth-watering scent of cake batter. Well, at the time it was mouth-watering, now it just gives him a stomach ache.

What wasn’t a rare occasion was how she would chase him around in the kitchen, running after him with the spoon that he had snatched which hadn’t been ready for licking yet.

Tora’s mom had a laugh in his younger years like a lullaby. It was soft, beautiful, soothing, and commanded the presence of anyone in her proximity. While he, on the other hand, had one that was loud and shrill, filling the small apartment that they lived in, and disturbed the neighbors through the thin walls on multiple occasions. Now, his laugh, if he did, was soft, dull.

It wasn’t until he was a little bit older, the laughter turned into screeching. Tora would hide from the wrath of his mother who drank alcohol like water to escape reality after his dad left. Maybe that’s when his aversion to most sweets, especially chocolate, began.

Maybe that’s when his helpful nature came to a standstill.

Mr. Lam pointedly cleared his throat and pulled Tora from the memories he’d thought he’d buried like a tell-tale heart.

“Do you know why I called you in here, Mr. Hara?” he asked, looking out of the window as the storm came back with a vengeance. It had seemed to have cleared up not thirty minutes ago. But just like the day Tora was having, the weather pattern was also unpredictable.

Tora shrugged at the question before answering, “Miss Wilkes said Mrs. Haru was tryna ban her from the library.”

“Well, yes but there’s more to that. Miss Wilkes said that you caught her after she broke the ladder.”

“After she broke the ladder?” Tora asked, a frown steadfast on his face as he looked at the older man's back, his own storm brewing inside.

“Yes. Mrs. Haru came in here quite upset after the ruckus that happened in the library. Miss Wilkes did not make anything better by raising her voice at you, I may add. A library is a place of peace, where people can go to study. It’s not a place for a janitor and a teacher to have it out with one another like teenagers.”

Tora didn’t know what was pissing him off more. Was it the words that rolled off of Mr. Lam's tongue that left a putrid taste in Tora’s mouth for the educator? Was it the fact that he was saying all of these things to the window and not to his face? Or was it that he was referred to as a teenager? Even more than that, the way Mr. Lam had referred him to as a “Janitor,” though true because that’s what he did, that’s not all that he was.

He deadpanned at himself. He’s an ex-prisoner, too. Despite Joe trying to beat into him that wasn’t all he was either, he had admitted that he didn’t know who the fuck he was. The aggravating asshole that Joe is told him “If you let people get to know ya, you’ll soon figure it out for yourself.” To which Tora had replied, “Yeah? Tell me who the fuck I am that’s how I’ll fuckin’ figure it out.” To which Joe had retorted, “Nah, kid, that’s cheating.” 

Tora gripped both sides of the chair, trying to anchor himself from hurling the goddamn glass owl toward its owner.

Shit, maybe he would actually go to prison for a murder he committed.

Tora looked at the same window Mr. Lam was standing at while the rain beat relentlessly against the pain. The older man huffed at a piece of wood that fell from the sill when he placed his hand on it. Mr. Lam bent over and picked it up and held it in his palm, frowning at it and back at the window.

That triggered a thought in Tora’s brain.

“How old is this school?” Tora asked.

Mr. Lam turned around, bewilderment plastered on his face. “We aren’t here to discuss the age of the school, Mr. Hara.”

“Nah, ya see, how I look at it,” he began, nodding over at the large splinter Mr. Lam still held, “Miss Wilkes fell from the ladder, she didn’t break it. It just happened to seem that way because who knows how old those ladders are. That’s why I’m askin’ how old the school is. I have a feeling those ladders are just as ancient.”

Mr. Lam’s demeanor shrunk from the lofty heights of authority as Tora spoke too fast for him to interrupt, chopping away at the rotting foundation that matched the school’s.

“The doors opened in the fall of 1952. Everything was brand new and state-of-the-art. As the times changed and technology had become more obtainable and with such a wealthy family who had owned it, The Balthumans, the faculty and students alike, wanted for nothing. A few years ago, we had the chance to upgrade everything, the library included. We were to go digital, allowing the students to have some new contraptions where books were on the screen instead of on paper. Mrs. Haru, who had been a student at this school when it first opened its halls as a primary school, fought tooth and nail to have the sanctity of the library stay as it was.”

Tora nodded, though he didn’t agree with the actions of Mrs. Haru that day, he understood the value of a good library. It’s like a time capsule each time you open a book and you’re sitting in a comfortable spot. The smell of a book, the way it feels in your hands as you turn the page. Even the book has its own story. Where it’s been, the different readers that had held it. Shit, there may even be a teardrop or two while the reader felt every word of the passage. If it were the first edition, the pages may have been tattered, or torn, but were more valuable since they were the originals. And though the form of writing had changed over the years, the essence remained the same.

Though, that Tolkien guy took it to an extreme. Tora could recall how fucking long it took to get past the first chapter of “ The Hobbit”. For fucks sake, why did it take so many words to describe eating cheese? He still had it dogeared in chapter two, obediently waiting for its master's return.

“Did that include the ladders?” Because fuckin’ hell if it did, those ladders were over half of a century old.

Mr. Lam's mouth tightened and that was all the answer Tora needed. His employer continued, “The stipulation for keeping the library in its original state was that all funding that was to go to the library was forfeited and went to different programs, such as the arts and sports.”

“So,” Tora began as Mr. Lam sat down in his chair across from him, “Mrs. Haru is blaming Miss Wilkes for breaking the ladder, the same 70-year-old ladder that had been here from day one. The same fuc- ladder that she had probably climbed multiple times in her career and her time here as a kid among all the other people, yeah?”

“That does seem to be the case now doesn’t it.” Mr. Lam agreed, his head canted down and rubbing his temples.

“Did ya ask her if she was OK? Or did ya just go into what she did wrong?”

Mr. Lam shot his head back up, blinking at Tora. Well, this was fucking fantastic.

“I’ll take that as a “no”. How many ladders are in there?” Tora made a mental note to see if she was actually ok. She seemed pretty fucking upset when she got out of his office, whether or not she had wanted him to notice.

“Well, I’m not sure, I would have to have someone take count. I’m sure Mrs. Haru knows.”

“I’ll count ‘em next time I’m in there, and let Jacob know to tell ya since he cleans ya office every day.” Tora offered, but not without a pointed look, calling the man out. If it was still on paid time, there was no harm in doing a little extra. Besides, the old woman was full of shit anyways. She’d probably just count them, forget how many there were, and probably wouldn’t even consider looking at them.

“Well, that still doesn’t excuse the yelling in the library. I have to agree with Mrs. Haru fully on that one.”

“Do ya wanna know why she was yelling at me?” Tora offered. He's already talked more than he did in a fucking week, so why not keep going?? Poppy didn’t deserve any of this shit. It was all circumstantial. 

“Enlighten me.” Mr. Lam agreed, folding his hands together.

“I’m gonna be real blunt here.”

Mr. Lam sighed and gestured his hand to continue.

“I’ve been a real shit.” Mr. Lam’s eyebrows skyrocketed and his eyes widened behind his glasses.

“She wasn’t yellin’ just to yell. She was pissed at some assumptions I made about her. And well, we had sat down to talk, so I could explain myself. While the library wasn’t the right place, the time was. And, I think she was havin’ a shit day already.”

“That does seem to put things into perspective.”

Well, no fucking shit. Tora looked at the clock, it was nearing three PM and school would be out soon which meant, despite the night crew coming in, Tora still had to go back to the library and continue cleaning it.

“Listen, Mr. Lam, I gotta get going, got a few more trash cans to empty in the library. If that’s ok, anyways. I don’t know if Mrs. Haru, or really anyone, is my biggest fan, but I still have a job to do. Can I leave now?”

Mr. Lam stood. “Please see to it that you count the ladders and inform me when you have them tallied. Don’t bother Jacob.”

“Why? Ya don’t like me in ya office or at least enough to clean it.”

“I never said-”

Fuck this guy. Tora wasn’t about to have someone lie to his goddamn face. He had heard the whole fuckin’ conversation. It wasn’t something he had left halfway through.

“I heard ya, Mr. Lam. Ya mighta not have said it to my face, but I heard every single word. And ya just told me to sit down and not touch nothin’ when I got in here.” Tora concluded, gesturing at the owl that he had barely grazed as he sat.

“Well, in any case, I’ll see to it that Mrs. Haru apologizes for her swift action and for spinning such a web of a story without knowing all of the facts.”

“I’m sure Miss Wilkes would appreciate that coming from the both of ya.” Tora bit out

“Excuse me?” Mr. Lam asked with a searing look of disapproval.

“I said, Miss Wilkes would probably appreciate that coming from the both of ya. She most likely didn’t appreciate getting both ends of the barrel, if ya catch my drift.”

It was a guess. But shit, it was probably true. Faded brown met burning amber. Tora wasn’t backing down and neither was Mr. Lam. They both fucking knew it too. His ass was probably gonna get canned for being so honest, but Mr. Lam had told him to go ahead.

“I will decide how I handle my staff. Go back to what you were doing and don’t forget about the ladders.”

Tora shrugged and left Mr. Lam's office. He meandered the hallway as the class bell rang, and teenagers erupted from each corner of the building. He had a destination in mind but knew it was too soon to head into her classroom.

So, Tora took his trash cart, evading every student in his path, heading to the library to do as he was told on paid time.

When he’d arrived, Mrs. Haru pointedly ignored him as she sat at her desk. He rolled his eyes and abandoned his cart to count the ladders. For christ's sake, by the time he was done, there were fucking fifteen. He also took stock of how many had looked worn over time. Some were still in pristine condition as he lowered each one to the ground, inspecting each rung. Some though looked like shit. They had cracks on them, spots where they were sure to break if one more person stepped on them. Halfway through his inspection, he decided to take pictures.

Each ladder was about 10 feet high. And while it was a bit of a challenge to find a spot to place the damn thing, hoisting it back up was no issue at all.

Tora hardly noticed the fading of the light from the windows. It wasn’t until he had heard the sound of the floor buffer hum through the hallways that he had realized the hour was way past his shift. He took his trash cart and looked at his phone, holy shit, it was almost 6. While Nick was working on the floors, Calvin was collecting the trash that had accrued during the three hours Tora had lost. Both of them had earphones in.

Tora looked to his right and saw a light from Poppy's classroom. Was someone working in there? He thought there were only two night janitors. Maybe there was a new hire he didn’t know about? With the squeaky wheels from the trash cart following him, he turned the corner and his brow arched.

There she was, asleep with her head tilted back, a book nearly abandoned as her arm fell to the floor. Her other arm was draped across her chest. Her bottom was planted in her chair and her feet were propped up at her desk. She looked so peaceful but he didn’t want her to stay the night there. Tora bent down, and a smirk not for the first time that day because of her appeared. She had been reading “The Catcher in the Rye” and a stack of papers was at her desk that she must have been grading.

On the top of the pile, was Ben’s. Tora reached for it, reading her notes written in blue ink.

“Amazing paper. I look forward to more of your writing and I will have to read this book. You have inspired me. Thank you for sharing, Ben! -Miss Wilkes”

Tora had placed the paper back down in its original spot. His eyes went to the whiteboard, and in delicate black cursive it read:

“ Sense & Sensibility: It doesn’t matter what we say or think that defines us, but what we do.” -Jane Austen

Well, fuck him. That hadn’t been there when he last saw her. It must have been from her last class of the day.

Tora cleared his throat, trying to coax her out of sleep.

Nothing.

“Miss Wilkes”

Zilch.

“Poppy.”

Jesus Christ, was she fucking dead?

“Oi. Bobbylan.” Bingo. Her head snapped up but her chair went backward. Her eyes were wide as he lunged forward to save her from another fall. Her back was arched as he caught her in mid-air, embracing her with a tight arm around her back

Her cheeks were a soft pink. It reminded him of the sakura petals that had drifted away for the colder months. She wasn’t moving save for the rise and fall of her chest. He hadn’t moved either. It was as if they had been suspended in the air despite being on hollow ground. Her eyes, though wide, reminded him of milk chocolate that when he looked closer, had flecks of caramel. And for the first time in who knew how long, the thought of chocolate didn’t repulse him. Just the very opposite.

He thought for the brief moment they had been staring at each other, how peculiar that all in one day, this feisty, small woman had called him out on his shit, called others on their shit too, asked him for help, teased him, listened to him, and made him smile more than he had in the past few weeks.

And all the while, there was no denying that it was fucking terrifying.

“Are you OK?” Tora asked, his other hand cupping her cheek not entirely sure of himself or what the fuck he was even doing. Or shit, when his hand had even moved. Before she could say anything though, another woman's voice came from behind them.

“Poppylan Wilkes, what on earth are you doing? Working late, my ass.”


God Dammit.

Chapter Text

Julri 🤮

Julri and Mimi had been walking out of his classroom just after 6 PM. They were fooling around since Poppy couldn’t be convinced otherwise, like the untamable shrew she was. It was infuriating. An after school hours quick fuck with Mimi on his desk was always a good way to let off some steam. Especially when Poppy and his barely legal female students teased him all day, the latter wearing uniform skirts that left him tight in his pants all fucking day. 

On Monday, he told Poppy to come to a movie Friday night. He was hellbent on showing her he wasn’t as bad as everyone said he was. He felt another bitter sting of rejection when she told him no, that she had planned on working late that entire week. And not for the first time in the weeks prior, he had questioned why he wanted her so badly. She was nothing special. She had even openly admitted it to her bitchy friend when they thought no one was listening to their conversation in the library. 

Poppylan Wilkes was nice to everyone. Shit, he even saw her smile at that asshole, Shing-Ma, the math teacher that had kept the door open for the slew of students that morning when it was pissing rain. Why didn’t he think to do that? Would she have smiled at him, too? Or would she just frown and ignore him like she did every other goddamn time they crossed paths? She was even nice to Mr. Smithy, the history teacher. Maybe she was nice to him because everyone knew the older man was on early retirement watch. But still, even out of pity, the history teacher garnered more respect than Julri.

It was her friend, that cunt of an art teacher who had planted ideas into Poppy’s head that he wasn’t a good person. It had to have been. He also couldn’t figure out why Poppy got so bent out of shape when he was trying to clearly warn her of what she was wearing. He had seen that ex-prisoner look at her many times. Like earlier in the afternoon at lunch. Julri had seen the way that asshole was smirking at her. It made his skin crawl. It was inappropriate, especially with all of those teenagers around. He was practically putting on display how into her he was. Yet, Julri wasn’t about to admit how many times he would catch himself staring at her long after Toraki’s gaze had relinquished from her to tend to his job.

There was no competition, and Julri had no idea why this man's presence made him so uneasy. Toraki had gone to prison for murder. Sure, he was found “innocent,” but a man looking like that had to have been guilty of one or ten things. There was no doubt in Julri’s mind that the man was trouble.

The introduction to fall had been leaving the days shorter, and the only light from the school hallways that evening came from an all too familiar classroom. Julri made a split decision upon seeing the infuriating glow.

“Hey, Mimi, if I take you out on Friday to see a movie, wanna do something fun right now?” Julri asked, rolling his eyes when she didn’t answer immediately; she was too glued to her phone, laughing at a stupid video of a cat getting scared by a goddamn potato. Her giggles were adding fuel to the fire that was raging inside.

Fuck, not even Mimi was capable of paying attention to him. Why was he always going after the ones who didn’t know a good thing when it was shoved right into their faces?

He bumped his elbow into Mimi’s, making her almost drop her cheetah-print-clad phone. He hoped the device impacted the floor to teach her a lesson about paying attention to him. But she caught it in time.

Shame.

“What were you saying?” Mimi asked, slipping her phone into her oversized cheetah print purse with a bland shade of white material on the inside. He fucking hated that purse. Why couldn’t it just be plain on the inside and out? Julri  stopped them just before they reached Poppy’s classroom door.
“Just sneak up on her, scare her, and I’ll take you out on Friday night.” Julri nodded towards the room, his tone hushed in case Poppy was in earshot.

“Seriously? Don’t you think we’re too old to-” Mimi whispered back, irritating Julri further before he cut her off.

“Do you wanna go out on Friday or not?”

Mimi rolled her eyes. “What’s her name again?”

“Poppylan Wilkes.” Julri sneered as Mimi made her way over.

She had almost reached the door, leaving Julri impressed at how easy it was to manipulate Mimi. God. No wonder she was just a per diem; she was so fucking stupid. He wasn’t actually going to take Mimi out on Friday. But he knew she was so fucking starved for attention that if he said he would take her anywhere, even to the dump, where she belonged, she would obediently follow.

“What the hell is the matter with you? Go!” Julri mouthed at her, egging her on, shooing her with his hands. She was just standing there like an idiot.

She turned her head, her eyes wide as she shook her head “no,” denying him what he wanted. That’s when he heard the harsh, raspy voice come from the soft glow of Poppy’s room.

“Oi. Bobbylan.”

What the fuck? Julri’s eye twitched as his hands curled into fists. Oh, fuck no. Working late, his fucking ass. Julri grabbed Mimi, hauling her back to where he had been standing. If he weren’t so pissed, he would have laughed at the way Mimi almost toppled onto her ass.

“Listen, just say something that alludes to lying about working late. I had overheard her talking to those stupid counselors yesterday; you know, the one who wears eyeliner and the other who pops those nasty gummy fish in his mouth twenty-four/seven. She told the latter of the two she was working late all week.”

“Julri- I don’t-”

“Fine, then we won't go out. Instead, I’ll tell your dear old daddy what you’re doing after hours instead of grading papers.”

She paled on him, and he knew he had her right where he wanted her. He watched her in rapt fixation as she took a deep breath and stood in front of Poppy’s door.

Fucking finally.

“Poppylan Wilkes, what on earth are you doing? Working late, my ass.”

Tora
“Alice: How long is forever?

White Rabbit: Sometimes, just one second.”

When time is at a standstill, a single second can feel like forever. Then, when you're throttled into the moment after, time speeds up, and you’re left wondering what the fuck just happened in the interim.

That’s how Tora felt as he and Poppy whipped their heads around to see the intruder at the door. He was still holding Poppy with his palm on the small of her back and his thumb grazing her cheek. He had almost dropped her from being so startled.

“Oh! It’s not what it looks like!” Poppy breathed out as Tora came to his senses. He helped her up to her full height. All five feet of her, giving or taking since she barely came up to his  pectorals. She had flattened her peach-colored pants and twisted her hair to have it fall beautifully over one shoulder.

Tora had to fight off the disappointment he felt with her words because he wished it was exactly what it looked like. He was about to ask the blonde in the doorway, Minnie, or whatever the fuck her name was, not that he actually cared, what she was doing just standing there. However, quicker than he could even take a fucking breath, Miss Wilkes spoke first.

“Actually. Well, that’s not entirely true. It could be exactly what it looks like. I was asleep, and Tora startled me, and he caught me.”

“Again,” Tora added to himself.

“Anyways, Mimi, what are you doing here so late? I thought per diems didn’t stay after hours.”

Tora’s brows sky-rocketed. He looked at Poppy, who was now packing her work laptop, books, and papers in her crocheted bag. Shit, was she looking down on Mimi? It was kind of fucked up, in his opinion, given the day she had just had. She wasn’t even looking at the woman.

Tora looked over at Mimi; her body language had transitioned from being like a deer caught in the headlights to an angry wild animal about to strike. The cheetah print plastered on the purse was telling the woman to pounce.

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean, Pops?” Mimi bit out, coming closer to Poppy.

Tora had spent enough time in prison, on the streets, and in group homes to know when a fight would happen. Miss Wilkes, on the other hand, had no fucking clue. Tora got out of the way, taking a pointed step back to ensure his safety as the battle lines were drawn. He knew Miss Wilkes hated to be called Pops; he didn’t know why, but Mimi knew where to shove the thorn.

Poppy whipped her head up as she abandoned her bag, gaze settling on Mimi. Her brows furrowed with a slight curl of her lip until her eyes went wide, realizing what was insinuated, “Oh my god, Mimi. No, not like that. I’m sorry that came out all wrong. I guess I’m just confused because the rest of the other teachers usually knock off around five. Unless someone stuck you with extra work, which I understand. But I guess, either way, it’s none of my business.” Poppy shrugged, returning to her bag.

Mimi took a breath, her eyes softening with the apology, but a sneeze coming through the room stopped her, Tora was confused, as no one had sneezed. What the fuck?

Tora stalked towards the door and looked to the side. That dickhead Julri stood still with his hand over his mouth as if that would hide him.

“Ya sending Mimi to do ya dirty work?” Tora asked as he folded his arms. He was pissed. He didn’t know the girl, but she had very obviously been coerced somehow. Why would it matter to Mimi what Poppy had been doing so late at school? They didn’t talk, not that he knew of anyways.

However, he did notice how Julri had sometimes talked to Poppy and how she had spun on her heel in response or dismissed him with a frown. Why did she always rebuff his attempts at conversation? Was Julri trying to get her to agree to something? Had she always said no? 

“Ya gonna answer my question?” Tora asked, glaring down at him.

“Why should I?! She never answered mine!” Julri blurted out.

“Your question? What was ya question, Julri?” Tora asked as he unfolded his arms. His hand instinctively curled into a fist. “Or better yet, why does it fucking matter what Poppy does or doesn’t do? And why did you send Mimi in there if it’s ya question?”

“Look, man, I don’t want any trouble.” Julri held his hands up in surrender. His voice was shaking and Tora could practically see the fear vibrating from the smaller man's nerves. Beads of sweat were trickling down Julri’s face as Tora's disgust for him intensified. Shit, if his fist clenched more, he might start bleeding.

“Ya don’t want ya own fuckin’ trouble but it looks like ya don’t mind having people take care of ya problems like the pussy ya are,” Tora deadpanned, more at himself than Julri. Fuckin’ Joe and his bullshit sayings. Christ, he was turning into the fat cop.

Julri was backing up, and as the glow of the light from Poppy’s room fell further and further from their surroundings, Tora was hoping that the little dick would stumble and fall as a lesson for not paying attention to his surroundings. If he wasn’t careful, he’d back up into the trashcan just three feet behind him. Maybe Tora would be a fuckin petty asshole and trip him with his mop one day if this guy didn’t trip over himself. Or maybe, he would treat Julri like a human punching bag.

Poppy’s voice floated out of her room and into Tora’s ears. Both he and Julri stopped their advance from safety, in Julri's case, anyways.

“Bye Mimi!” Poppy called.

“Mimi, where are you going?” Julri asked from his spot.

“Home! I booked an Uber.” Mimi scolded him as she stormed out of the classroom.

Tora snorted as Julri realized Mimi was on her way out without him. She was a woman on a mission, likely to get as far away from Julri as possible. Poppy was standing in the doorway waving goodbye to Mimi.

Fuck it. He had an audience, he wanted to see Poppy smile, and Mr. Lam wasn’t around. Tora hadn’t appreciated the looks Julri had been giving Poppy for the past month. It even left him feeling slimy.

Tora stuck his leg out as Julri went to walk over to Mimi and Julri tripped and practically bounced upon impact. The ugly brown bag that reminded Tora of a potato had slipped from his grasp, and a slew of papers spilled across the floor

“Man, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Julri spat as he scrambled to collect the contents of his bag.

“Boys will be boys and all that shit.” Tora shrugged, fighting back a grin toying at the corners of his mouth, before lending Julri a hand, or so he wanted the shit stain to believe. Julri took the bait like a fucking moron. As Tora heaved Julri up, his other hand grabbed his shirt by the collar, hoisting him up in the air, so that they were at eye level. “Leave Miss Wilkes the fuck alone.” He gritted out behind clenched teeth. He looked down and noticed Julris's fly had been unzipped. And was that piss?

“Zip ya pants up too, that’s fuckin’ disgusting.”

He let go of Julri, and the smaller man scrambled off.

Tora turned around as Julri stomped off. Poppy was covering her mouth, but from what he could tell, that beautiful blush was taking over the rest of her face. He wanted to peel her hand away to see if a frown was hiding or a brilliant smile was being held captive.

“Tora.” She laughed, removing her hand from her face.

It was a smile.

“Fucker had it coming. Ya gonna go home now?” He changed the subject quickly as she pulled her phone from her bag. He went to go collect his trash can, brushing past her spot. Tugging on the handle of the trash cart, he stole another glance at her and her bag. He liked how cute it was. There was color all over the damn thing. The body was a bright red, but the cover was a soft pink. A green heart-shaped button clasped the two together while a red bow was tucked into the corner as two strawberries dangled from it. It was a strawberry-themed bag.

Usually, Tora didn’t care what kind of purse a woman had. But he couldn’t help but notice how it was probably as colorful on the inside as on the outside. He liked that it was full of spunk like its owner.

“I’m texting Erdene, you know, the one with the hair, that I’m done. She went home early,” Poppy explained as her fingers sent out a message.

“I can put my stuff away and wait with ya if ya want me to?” Tora offered, swallowing thickly, putting himself out there like Joe was always bitching at him to do. If she didn’t want him to, he wouldn’t blame her. Despite the good day he had been having, she sure as shit wasn’t, and if she wanted-

“Thanks, yeah. I’d appreciate that. Usually, I would just wait outside; no big deal. It’s getting darker.”

She walked further outside of her room, “Are you coming?” she asked as she peeked back inside.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m coming,” Tora said as he pulled the cart behind him and flipped off the lights.

She didn’t keep walking with him and when he turned back, she was standing still.

“Ya comin’?”

Muttering out a “yeah,” she moved forward, but he felt she was holding something back.

The sound of the wheel was deafening when it was the only sound coming from hallways except for the clacking of her shoes. What the hell did he do now? She was smiling not just two minutes ago. And she had agreed to let him wait with her until Erdene had shown up.

“OK. I give up.” He sighed as they neared the janitor's closet and opened the door. The other janitors must have just gone up to the second floor.

“Hmmm?” Poppy looked up at him as the automatic lights turned on, her big brown eyes were squinted, and she looked confused.

“I said, I fuckin’ give up. What the hell did I say now? Ya were just smiling two fuckin’ minutes ago, and now, ya, ya- upset or some shit,” Tora explained, hands moving as he tried to turn his thoughts into words.

“Oh, Um. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I tend to associate names that people call me on days that weren’t so great for me.”

Tora searched for every encounter he had with her like a Rolodex in his brain. He filed away the day they had met. He had moved to file away the day he had told her that she didn’t know him. Hell, he had even filed away the day that he was still wanting to slap himself over the past week. He had been calling her Miss Wilkes, despite her telling him to call her Poppy, never Pops. He sure as fuck didn’t ever call her that. Sweetheart? What did she have against-

“I know this sounds really stupid, but last week, when you yelled at me, when I was talking with Ben, you called me sweetheart. And I didn’t appreciate it. You sounded so sarcastic. And don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me today, like catching me on multiple occasions, but it’s just something that didn’t sit well with me. And I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say without sounding self-absorbed,” she explained.

“Is that why ya don’t like Pops?” Tora asked, cursing himself. He shouldn’t have asked that question.

She looked away from him with tears welling in her eyes.

Shit.

“Ya don’t gotta tell me. Listen, Miss Wilkes, I said I was sorry for being an ass to ya, and I meant it. I don’t know who did this to ya; it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have pried like that.”

“It’s OK.”

“From where I’m standing, it don’t look like it’s ok. Ya still upset.”

“It’s been a long fudging day, Tora.”

“I’m sorry, a what ?”

“A long fudging day.” She looked up at him, unshed tears in her eyes.

“Ya mean a long, fucking day?”

She let out a small laugh as the last of her tears slipped out, “Yeah, that too. Anyways, I tend to cry sometimes at the drop of a hat, usually over silly things. Sorry for making you feel like you did something wrong when you already apologized for your actions. We can just put it past us and start fresh if you want?”

“Yeah, I’d like that sweet…cheeks….” Tora fumbled tremendously. Well, she did have sweet ass cheeks. Christ, sweet face cheeks when she smiled at him.

“SWEETCHEEKS?! SERIOUSLY?!” Poppy screeched—the words reverberated off of the walls.

“It’s not the other name,” Tora grumbled, wishing he could be crushed in the school's new cardboard baler.

Poppy’s phone dinged, whether to Tora’s elatement or to his annoyance for cutting this shit show off, that was yet to be determined.

“Oh, It’s Dene. She’ll be here in a minute. Walk me out?” she asked. There was a brightness to her eyes, and shit, was she holding back a smile? He’d take that any fucking day. So, she wasn’t as horrified with him as he had suspected.

“Yeah,” Tora said, only allowing one syllable to save himself from further embarrassment.

He shut the door to the janitor's closet. She was looking at her phone, and giggling again, “Have you seen this video of the cat and the potato?” she asked, holding her phone up to him, stopping their advance.

“Nah, don’t got a fancy phone like ya,” he said, looking at the damn cat video. Tora let out a chuckle when the feline jumped up and bonked itself on the refrigerator upon turning around and seeing the potato behind it.

“Was that a laugh?” Poppy asked, looking up at him as he opened the door to usher her out. “Oh, the clouds have parted. Look, you can see the stars coming out.” She pointed up to the sky. He looked up and then over, enjoying the twinkle coming from her eyes as well. The crisp autumn air nipped at his nose, but he welcomed it. For the first time since walking out of his prison cell, he had finally felt the first real breath of freedom.

That was until the blare of a horn and harsh bright high beams pulled them both out of a comfortable silence. It was Erdene. Tora placed his hand over his face to shield his eyes from the intruding light. She pulled up to the curb, looking at them like they were some of the ones flying over the cuckoo's nest despite the wild look in her eyes.

“Hey bitch, get in. I’ve got pizza, beer, and ice cream waiting back at home.”

“Coming!” Poppy shouted, waving at her friend before turning to him; her little pointer curled in, beckoning him to come closer. He huffed and leaned down waiting for her to call him an asshole or some shit for the sweet cheeks comment.

It was a mere brush of her petal-soft lips on his left cheek, but it was enough to send Tora into a whirlwind. And again, the whole world stopped.

“Thank you for everything today,” she whispered as she pulled back, relinquishing her hold on him, to his dismay. She bit her lip and went down to the car. Her hips swayed back and forth as her ass bounced with each step. He just stood there all the while, not realizing his hand was cupping the cheek she had kissed.

Poppy waved at him when she got into the car, giving him another bright smile. When they drove off, Tora found himself contemplating a few things as he fished for the car keys Joe left him. He was gonna get his ass home. This day had been so fucking weird like he had been dropped into a rabbit hole, and lastly but most importantly…

Was it wrong that he was glad that Joe had a night shift so that he could jerk off back home in peace?

Because fucking hell.

Poppy

“Bitch. What the fuck was that?”

Poppy turned her attention from her strawberry bag and looked at Erdene. 

“What was what?” Poppy asked, trying to act innocent.
From what Poppy had learned in the past few months living with Erdene the second she hears the kettle being brought out, she immediately expects you to pour the tea, whether it’s ready or not. What she also learned is Erdene is used to being aggressive with pulling information out of people because, well, she had to always be the adult in every situation growing up. As the oldest of five sisters, and her parents always going on lavish vacations without them, she was more the matron of the girls than her own mom was.

If her sister, Opal, wasn’t out partying and getting “her ass” in trouble, then it was Tiffany, crying over some boy that had broken her heart. When those two weren’t making Erdene want to rip her hair out, it was either Rose or Diamond taking turns. Just as they had the day when Erdene was supposed to help with the new teacher's orientation. The two of the youngest sisters decided it would be a great idea to try and sneak into a movie theater, and when they were caught by the usher, Erdene got a call from the manager to come to pick her sisters up.

“Oh no, we are not doing this tonight. We are going to go home, carb out and you are going to tell me every single little thing that happened. Because, bitch, last time I talked to you, you had no interest whatsofuckingever to talk to that guy ever again. And now here you are making out on the front steps of the school with the infamous Toraki Hara and you’re going to ask me what I was talking about. Bitch, please.”

When Erdene finally took a breath, Poppy took note of being called bitch three times in the past three minutes. Actually, less. That was another thing that Poppy learned. “Bitch” was more of a term of endearment. It was better than Pops honestly and it always made Poppy feel like Erdene’s sister in a sense, seeing as how she called all four of her real sisters “bitch” more than their own names.

“Ok, Dene, for one, we were not making out,” Poppy started as Erdene parked in the apartment's garage.

“Two, I had a really long day, I don’t want to talk about it. I just wanna eat some pizza and pass out,” Poppy said as Erdene turned the engine off and they both got out of the car, closing the doors behind them.

Erdene squinted her eyes, looking across the car. “Fine. You weren’t making out. But come on, you kissed Toraki Hara, honey. Did you see the way he was looking at you when you pulled away from him? That man must have years of pent-up sexual frustration from being in prison and you know he’s gonna be spankin- ”

“Dene, zip it!” The last thing Poppy wanted to talk about, let alone think about, was how he might be getting off to her. Because she didn’t want to admit that she was uncomfortable in the most delicious way when his thumb grazed her cheek. How rough yet tender the touch was. How her stomach flipped along with the chair, the only difference being that Tora had caught her. She didn’t even notice the chair fell, or the noise that came from it. There was just the moment that had them suspended in time and space.

When they got to the apartment, goodness the smell of pizza had pulled Poppy out of her perverse thoughts. They both toed off their shoes and Poppy went to the kitchen as Erdene locked the door behind her. Poppy hung her bag onto the wall hook that she had picked out a few days ago and huffed. It was amber stone with flecks of gold deep in the surface, perfectly rounded in its gold casing. She wondered what it was like beneath the surface if it had jagged edges or was smoothed out like the parts showing.

She was going to find out. “Hey, Dene, where did you put those pliers that we used when we were hanging my chandelier?”

Erdene grabbed a slice of pizza and came over, and raised her perfectly manicured hand, matching her perfectly arched brow, questioning Poppy silently as she bit into her piece.

“I wanna see what it looks like underneath. Or am I crazy? From the look you're giving me…I feel like I’ve lost my mind.”

“We’re all a bit mad here, grab a slice and I’ll grab the pliers.”

After an hour, two bottles of some hoppy beer, and not enough pizza slices that somehow managed to be more greasy than Julri, Erdene and Poppy finally pried the gold off of the stone hook.

It was jagged. Why anyone would want to cover that up was beyond Poppy. It added to the charm. She threw the gold casing away and put the hook back on the wall and took a step back.

“Much better.” She looked at Erdene, who was cuddling up on the couch and throwing an oversized cream-colored quilt over her body. She patted the spot next to her and Poppy obliged. Taking her seat, Poppy took a swig of the remainder of her beer.

“Here’s what happened today…”

Tora

On the other side of town, Tora was in the shower after a long day. He palmed himself thinking of Miss Wilkes. For the past month and a half since his  release, he had been good. He didn’t think Joe would be too impressed if he got caught with some hooker or had different women rolling through there. Not that he would let them stay.

It was always a quick jerk in the shower where no cleanup would be necessary. But he had been holding off on thinking about her as he made love to his dick with his hand. It always took him too long sometimes to get off when he didn’t have much to go off of and Joe would interrupt him, saying he needed to take a goddamn dump. But tonight, it was just him. Thank fuck. He stroked tenderly at first, letting the soap create friction. He braced himself on the cold tile of the shower as the water cascaded down.

Her lips were so soft against the rough stubble on his cheek. And her skin, smooth against his calloused thumb. He wanted to keep stroking her, but not on her face. Was the rest of her body  just as soft? Would she taste as sweet as her voice sounded?

Tora was pumping faster now, the image of her with her legs wide open wearing nothing as she sat on her desk was becoming more clear. He would approach her, try to read her body, make her giggle, and dive into her pussy first with his tongue. Her laughter would cut off into a beautiful moan, only for his ears. Then he would feast on her.

Christ, he was going to explode all over the fucking shower and soon.

Before he let her come though, he would lay her down on the desk, a fistful of her hair as a broken sob crying out for him tumbled from her lips. He’d tease her sensitive pussy with his cock, and let her feel what she does to him before he enters her. She would be tight. So fucking tight. She would arch her back at the intrusion and he’d let her adjust to him before he pounded into her. And god her tits would bounce spectacularly.

Tora’s balls were tightening and he could feel the need to release upon him. But no, he wanted this fantasy to keep going until she cried out his name. He would grip her hips and slam into her, her eyes screwed shut while she begs for him to go harder. Her legs would wrap around his hips, pulling him deeper. She would cry out his name before her mouth would hang open as she silently screamed upon her release and his orgasm would rip through him as he took out his cock and painted her body with his cum.

Tora looked down and onto his hand when reality hit him. Christ, he was panting hard. Fuck that felt good. He wouldn’t be able to look at Miss Wilkes the same after that night, or her desk. Fuck, what had he done? Before Tora could contemplate it any longer, he heard someone shouting his name downstairs.

He turned off the shower, quickly dried off, and put his clothes on. Going down the steps from the bedroom, he walked into the kitchen where Joe was standing over someone else, and crimson was soiling a rag. Tora rounded the table and realized who it was.

“What the hell happened to Ben, Joe?”

Chapter Text

“ You’ll be fine.”

“It’s the law.”

“Just trust me.”

Three sentences, three syllables and three words. That’s all they were. Yet, to Tora, they were so much more.

When those small, simple sentences fell from Joe's mouth as he tried to reassure Ben that this was “for the best,” Tora could only think of the worst.

It was the same reassurance of the officer dropping him off at the group home when he was only 12. The same group home that Tora had escaped from after being starved for not finishing his chores on time while everyone else got to eat. The younger ones were having problems reaching the tall counters, so he helped them, delaying his own work. No good deed goes unpunished.

It was the law that had failed Tora tremendously when he went to the police station because that’s where they were supposed to help, yet they ended up taking him back to the same group home after everything “looked fine,” and he was probably just “acting out.”

It was the blind faith of a child who desperately loved his parents until they decided they didn’t love him back. When his Pa left, and his Ma gave him away, the trust that he had in them blew up in smoke and left him with only ashes, ruined and impossible to put back together.

“What the hell happened to Ben?” Tora asked as he came over, going down to his haunches. He inspected his face as much as he could, with a damp washcloth taking up most of it. It was soaked in blood while rosy-colored water dripped from it.

“Found Ben here while I was on patrol. I was about to call it a night down by the Ace of Spades, ya know in the gambling district where all of those old speakeasies are. Anyways, I saw him here runnin’ outta one of ‘em and he looked like shit. He practically jumped into my car and begged me to get him the hell outta there,” Joe said matter-of-factly.

He removed the blood soaked rag from Ben’s face, inspecting the gash on his forehead. The wound wasn’t deep, more superficial, Tora speculated as he remembered the medical book he read while he was incarcerated. The book keeper didn’t know how the fuck it got in there but Tora had found it and read it anyways. It was either that or Lonesome Dove.

Tora looked at Joe, making sure he heard him right.

“Ben was runnin’ outta underground casino? The fuck were ya doin’ there, kid?”

Ben flinched, jolting the chair he sat in back an inch.

“His step-dad gambles there, Tora,” Joe explained, gesturing at Ben as he got up to trade the blood soaked rag for bandages. As Joe plopped the rag into the sink, Tora studied Ben; he didn’t know the kid, aside from him being one of Poppy’s students. But the question was begging to be asked.

“What happened? Why was he so pissed?” Tora asked.

“I went there to see if I could get some money. The electric bill was never paid, so they shut off our power. My old man didn’t appreciate that I “embarrassed” him in front of everyone and to teach me a lesson, well, you see what happened.”

Tora nodded and stood up to go over to Joe, leaving Ben's side.

In a hushed tone, he asked, “Joe, where’s his ma?”

Joe had been collecting petroleum jelly, bandages, and gauze but paused before shutting the cabinet.“She passed away a few years ago. Michael, the step-dad, is all Ben has left.” By the looks of the towel covered in crimson that laid in the sink, Ben had absolutely no one at all.

“Can he stay here? Just for the night? I can go fuck off somewhere else.”

“Nah, kid. It doesn't work that way. I gotta turn him over to CPS. I only took him back here because he was so shaken up. He was adamant about not going to the hospital. But, no, he can’t stay.”

“So what, ya just gonna let him go back to that shit hole he lives in?”

“Oh hell no, Tora. That mother fucker is already sitting in a cell right now. My partner who was undercover was down there, saw the whole thing. Ya shoulda seen it, they all scrambled like cockroaches and came flooding out of the building.”

“So, where does that leave the kid?” Tora asked, nodding towards Ben.

“He can either get placed in a group home–”

“A group home?” Tora bellowed. “Ya gonna send him to a fuckin’ group home?”

“Please don’t send me to a group home. Can’t I stay here?” Ben pleaded, cutting off the conversation Joe and Tora were having.

They both whipped their heads around at the same time. Tora took in the pained look in Ben's eyes.

“Ben, look,” Joe started as he came over to him and placed the first aid on the table beside them. “It’s only temporary. The woman who runs one of them is a really nice lady. You’ll like her. She works with us all of the time. You have my word that you’ll be fine . If I had it my way, I’d let ya stay, but it doesn't work that way, it’s the law. Ya gotta just trust me . Can ya do that? Can ya trust me?

“Yes, sir.”

As for Tora, his breath was becoming staggered, his world growing dark as shadows from his childhood started whispering in his ear, taunting him with the memories he couldn’t get to subside. Further and further he was being led into the catacombs of his mind. The skeletons of his past cackled at him when he didn’t know which direction to go.

“ Are you hungry little boy?”
“Are you scared?”
“Stop your crying or else I’ll give you something to cry about?”
“Your mom and dad don’t love you anymore, that’s why you’re here, Toraki.”
“You’re going to be alone, forever.”

“No!” Tora shouted, pounding the counter so hard, the cabinet drawer shook. His chest was heaving and noticed a sea of lights of red and white in the driveway. Shit, how fucking long was he standing there? By the empty chair and Joe ushering Ben into a van in the driveway, he had just spiraled. He hadn’t done that since he was 20, when he was led into his prison cell for the first time. Shit, 6 fucking years.

“No, what?” Joe asked through the open door, a brow arched.

He gave himself a few steadying breaths, and walked his way over to where Joe was now standing when an EMT came over.

“He checks out. He’s going to Lanes. He won't need any stitches, just still shaken up,” the EMT explained before she made her way back to the vehicle.


“Are ya hungry, Tora?” Joe asked with a sigh.

“Are ya fuckin’ kidding me, Joe? How can ya fuckin’ think of eating at a time like this?” Tora berated him as he watched the van that Ben had climbed into. Joe had left the doorway and the headlights disappeared from view as they rounded the corner.

“Tora, it’s been a long day, ya hungry or not?” he asked as he sat at the kitchen table, kicking off his work shoes.

“I ain't fuckin’ hungry. Why the hell couldn’t ya just let the kid stay here for at least the night? What the fuck is so wrong with that? Ya afraid that he’s gonna eat all ya fuckin’ food or some shit?”

Joe looked up at him and his eyes narrowed. The tired look that was on his face a few moments ago had shifted into disapproval. Tora knew he was stepping in shit, he didn’t fucking care though.

“Nah. Don’t look at me that way. Ya got no fucking clue what it’s really like out there. Did ya see the look he gave ya when ya told him he had to go to a group home, that he couldn’t fucking stay here? Or did ya just want him out of ya fucking hair so that ya could go to bed in peace?”

Joe stood up from the wooden chair both glaring at each other. Tora’s pacing became like that of a ship at sea, going back and forth, moved by a raging tempest that he held deep inside. His strides were uneven, and his eyes started to twitch. And the more Joe looked at him, not saying a goddamn thing, the angrier he became.

Tora knew he wasn’t thinking straight and that he had to get the fuck out of there and not wait for Joe to say anything. Shit maybe Joe was trying to distract himself by thinking about his stomach. However, that thought passed as soon as it arrived. Where his common sense was encouraging him to leave, his anger was egging him on to stay for a fight.

“Tor–” Joe started, coming closer.

“No. Just no. Fuck off. I’m leaving. If Ben can’t stay here, then I don’t wanna either.”

“TORA.”

Tora’s fist was getting ready to fly, an instinct that he always had. “WHO’S GONNA FUCKIN’ PROTECT ME JOE?!” Tora screamed as a hot, uninvited tear slipped from his eye. The pain he had been carrying around with him, the animosity, was coming out in droves.

Fuck.

“I meant Ben,” he said quickly.

“No you didn’t, Tora.”

“Fuck off, Joe. I’m heading out.”

“Tora, look at me, kid.”

“What the fuck do ya want?” he sneered as he righted his jacket.

“You are safe.”

“Yeah, ok, got it.” Tora rolled his eyes as he looked around for his smokes.

“You are safe.”

“Joe, seriously, back the fuck off.” Joe was approaching him now, and Tora was getting pushed back into a corner, punching a cop was a crime and like hell he was gonna be put back in a cell.

“You are safe.”

“GOD DAMMIT JOE!” Tora punched the wall as more hot tears overflowed from his eyes. Joe grabbed him and pulled him in, trapping him into a bear hug, not relenting.

“Get the fuck off--” Tora sobbed, while trying to shove the hold Joe had him in. The words died out as Joe clung to him.

“It’s ok, Tora. You’re safe. Ben is safe.”

He gave up fighting then, relinquishing the fight he had wanted to keep up with Joe, with himself, with the whole fucking world. He raised his arms and pulled Joe in closer and cried on his shoulder, the anger melting into sorrow.

“Why is the world so fucked, Joe?” he whispered as he gathered a few breaths, releasing himself from the hug. Joe stood back, both hands on Tora’s arms.

“Come on, sit down over here.” Joe led them to the table while Tora lit up a cigarette. Joe usually bitched about lighting up in the house but with a nod from him, it was a silent agreement that this was within reason.

“What makes ya happy? What do ya like to do?”

Tora thought about it for a minute, “I work out.” He shrugged while taking a drag, letting the nicotine fill his lungs and exhaled.

“And that makes ya happy? Or does that just get ya rage out?”

He blinked at Joe as he thought carefully about the question. What made him happy? He sure as fuck enjoyed teasing Poppy. But he wasn’t gonna admit that out loud.

“I like to read.”

“I’ve seen ya read a few times here and there. Ya like all sorts of books.”

“I had kept a collection going during my time locked up. It wasn’t much, but it got me by. Mostly because I had nothin’ better else to do”

“And have ya gone back to the library since ya got out?”

“Nah. They wouldn’t want me there. Besides, I work at a school that has one. If I wanna read, I’ll just do it when I’m there.”

“My point is here, is that ya gotta do something that makes ya happy. Ya go to work, ya come home and eat and sleep. The cycle just keeps continuing. Go to the library, spend time outside of work and home.”

“But”

“Tora, just do me a favor, OK? Just go to the goddamn library. You’ve got ya freedom but ya still got yourself locked up. Let some light in, stop living in the dark corners of ya mind. But it’s up to ya to find that light.”Joe was looking at him, a firm look set on his face. He wasn’t gonna let it go until Tora pulled his head out of his ass. “Do ya know where the city library is?”

“Yeah, I know where it is.” He took another drag as he sniffed the remnants of his tears back.

“Good. Go there on Saturday. Ya got paid too, right? Go get a hot dog at the park or something. Or cotton candy or whatever the fuck ya want.”

“Yeah but”

He raised his hand up “I don't wanna hear about it.”

Tora dragged his free hand down his face and looked at him “Thanks Joe.”


He smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t mention it.”

The rest of the week went by in a flash and work had kept him busy. Julri had seemed to lay off of Poppy, as he didn’t see the creepy bastard lingering anywhere near her. Tora also hadn’t seen Ben, but Joe explained the home he was put in was in a different school district and he would give Tora an update as soon as he had one. On Wednesday, when he came to work, Jacob had asked him if everything was alright, that Tora was grumpier than usual. After telling Jacob to fuck off, that he was just tired, Jacob seemed to take the hint.

He was in a shit mood though. He hadn’t hugged someone like he had hugged Joe in a long fucking time. He didn’t encourage people to just “hug shit out,” but it felt really fucking good all at the same time. He hadn’t spiraled in years and hadn’t cried for even longer than that.

Then, when he saw Poppy teaching, her voice floating through the hallways with the door opened, he was caught staring at her. She had seen him and nodded at him with a tiny smile before handing out their copies of Sense and Sensibility .

He huffed out through his nose as she came over to close the door, to keep him from peering in. He would have thought of it as rude, like she was shutting him out, but there was no malice on her face and there was a bright twinkle in her eyes.

Thursday passed and melted into Friday. And each day like clockwork, when he crossed from one end of the hall to the other, he stopped at her door from across the way.  She would roll her eyes and smile before closing her door.

As soon as Saturday rolled in, Joe gave Tora the keys to his car and told him to get lost for a few hours.

He had on a basic black tee and his favorite pair of worn down blue jeans. They were faded and had a few holes in them from cigarette burns but they still held up. He even got a new pair of chucks since his old pair didn’t fit him anymore. They were black, like the old pair, hightops.

The crisp air was fluttering around him, the fall season making itself more apparent, and he grabbed his old worn jacket.The green one that matched his green hair at the time of the purchase with the Superman kanji on the back. Even though it didn’t fit him very well anymore, he still didn’t want to part with it. He had a few more to choose from but for whatever reason, his old friend, that had spent the same time with Tora in prison, looked like it could use some sun, too.

Tora parked the car and walked up the steps. He went through the door and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible, then walked in and surveyed the walls of books. The smell, the quiet murmurs of people talking to one another, the kid who was screeching to pick out “just one more book,” it all felt so normal, and he wasn’t quite sure if he liked it.

But then, his eyes wandered over to a familiar woman who was tucked away in a corner in a yellow wingback chair. The light from the floor-to-ceiling windows cast an almost ethereal light onto her.

She was in black leggings, an oversized cream-colored sweater, and tan boots, her hair cascading down over her right shoulder. She was reading a book, biting her thumb as she took in the story.

At this moment, Tora had decided that she must have been the light Joe was talking about.

And fuck if he had any clue what the hell he was doing.

Chapter Text

Poppy was laying on her bed, her eyes fluttering open with Little Women at her side. The sun cascaded in from her window while the cherry blossom tree's bare branch gently rasped on the glass, greeting her for the day.

Her father’s copy of the book, tattered yet still full of life, presented itself the night before when she was scanning her bedroom library. It was a constant companion that comforted her when she had it in her hands, even though she knew each page by heart. 

It wasn’t the limited edition that she had seen on the shelves at the chain of bookstores across the city with a pink leather bound cover, the title in white italic lettering. Instead, it was cloth bound adorned in emerald green. The title was simple inside of a woven gold thread symbol, and the edges of the book were worn with time.

“Opal! Get back here with that! That’s my sweater. You can’t wear it!” Poppy heard Erdene screech from the other room, pulling her out of the tranquil moment the morning had provided for her.

“Oh, don’t be such a bitch. You always used to let me wear your clothes!”

“Yeah when we were younger and lived together. I’m still waiting for you to give me back my sherpa sweater!”

Poppy sighed heavily as the apartment filled with high pitched shrills. Looking at her clock, she read the time.

9:30 A.M

Opal, Erdenes younger sister, crashed on their couch last night. She had been out bar hopping and had run into Erdene. Poppy had been reading on the couch, a flood of words came crashing in through the door. 

It was a mess of pink hair coming from the entrance while Erdene told Poppy to grab a bowl and a glass of water as Opal hung from her sister’s shoulders. Poppy did as she was instructed, tucked her book in between her arm and side, and fetched the items. When asked if she could do anything else, Erdene dismissed her while trying to keep her intoxicated sister from eating the glass blown fruit on their coffee table.

Poppy closed her book and heaved herself up from her bed. She had planned on going to the library later in the day, but with how loud the other two were being, she decided to go early. Sure, she could go to the library at work. But between the ladders being unstable and the cranky Mrs. Haru, she didn't want to risk getting herself in trouble again.

Besides, she could just walk there, grab a coffee on the way, and enjoy the nice fall weather. Going to her closet, she picked out a cream colored sweater and black leggings. On her shoe rack, she looked at the tan boots and swiped them into a bundle with her outfit for the day.

She had washed her hair the night before and decided to just take a quick wash to get the smell of sleep off. She laid her clothes on her bed and went out of her room to the bathroom.

Before Poppy could even make it to the bathroom, the two rambunctious women pummeled through her. She was shoved to the side, hitting the wall when a blur of strawberry pink and lavender hair went by.

“Sorry, Pops!” Opal yelled out with Erdene on her heels. Poppy took a deep breath and let the slip of the name go. Opal had slammed the door to Erdene’s room, and with a click, she was locked out.

Rolling her eyes, Poppy righted herself and went into the bathroom, locking that door, too. She got a new towel from the overhead cabinet, fluffy and white with strawberries neatly sewn in on each corner. Her peach colored shorts and matching top pooled at her feet and she turned on the shower. Soon, the room filled with steam and she had her hair pinned up with a few stray bobby pins.

She got into the shower and let the water run down her body. Taking her lavender and honey body wash, she dolloped it on her loofah and worked it until the suds started to appear. The atmosphere was cozy but the rough feeling of the scrubbing made her think of how rough Tora’s hand was when he cupped her face after catching her.

Was that what it would feel like over her whole body? Her eyes slid closed and let her mind run wild, imagining the roughness of the material was really his hands cleaning each inch of her. She hadn’t had sex in a long time, and when she had, it wasn’t even that good. The first time was just embarrassing for her, while the guy got what he wanted and ended it before she could even begin. She didn’t even remember his name.

But alone in her shower, she was in charge of this. She reached her clit as the loofah worked over her body. The lavender scent needed to be replaced by a campfire up in the mountains. She dropped her loofah after a moment and pinched her nipple, pretending it was him who was biting it. Between that and how fast she was stroking herself, she became dizzy with need.

“Poppy! Are you almost out of there? I gotta take a shower.”

She whimpered as the banging on the door pulled her out of her fantasy. She was panting, desperate for release. But the moment was lost and she was back to being in a small shower filled with lavender and her body still needing to be washed off from the suds.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” she called out as she angrily washed herself off. She turned off the water, toed out of the shower, got her towel, picked up her clothes, wrapped herself up, and pulled the door open.

“There. It’s all yours,” Poppy grumbled as she passed Erdene.

“Geez, what's got your panties in a twist?” Erdene sneered back as Poppy sauntered down the hallway to her bedroom.

“Nothing. Where’s Opal?” she asked as she realized it was just them two in the apartment.

“Oh, she left. Some guy named Scharch picked her up. Said he was going to take her on a brunch date because he just got back from a long trip. He met her last night at the bar before I found her. She says she’s in love.”
Poppy huffed in amusement as she opened the door to her room. She got dressed, swept her eyelashes with a touch of mascara, and teased her hair a bit with her fingers to give it some volume.

She walked out of her room and knocked lightly on the bathroom door. “I’m going to the library, Dene. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

“No, I’m good. Have fun,” she yelled back from behind the door.

********

Well, that walk didn’t go to plan. Her boots were probably not the best idea to walk in and the coffee shop on the way was closed due to a family emergency. When she had finally made it to the library, her feet were throbbing, and she was under caffeinated. She should have worn a warmer sweater too. It was dumb of her to wear nothing underneath  it other than a bra. 

At least when she walked into the library, it was warm and the chill of the Autumn air didn’t follow her in.

She was there to look for a book to read and be undisturbed as she did every weekend. Last weekend, she had picked up the book The Lovely Bones and sat there almost all day, reading the heartbreaking tale of the girl Susie Salmon.

This weekend though, she would try for something lighter. She perused the fantasy section, looking for an escape from reality. Her eyes caught on a navy blue spine, simple in its design.

Stardust gold thread letters spelled it out.

Poppy plucked it from its spot and went over to the floor to ceiling windows and perched herself on a yellow wingback chair. All she needed was a warm cup of tea and a blanket and she would be sequestered in comfort. But for now, this would have to do.

She had been sitting there as the barely there rays of sunshine peeked through the clouds and into the corner of the library she was tucked into. She glanced up to look outside, smiling at the leaves dancing through the air and landing on a child who was strolling with his mom on the sidewalk, with what looked like hot chocolate in his tiny hands.

They disappeared from view and her attention went back to the book.

“You’re the star,” said Tristan, comprehension dawning. “And you’re a clodpoll,” said the girl, bitterly, “and a ninny, a numbskull, a lackwit and a coxcomb!”

Poppy bit her thumb and giggled around it as she read of the slew of names the star was throwing at Tristan. She took a breath and turned the page when suddenly she felt someone looking at her.

Tora was standing there with his hands in the pockets of his green sweater that complimented his olive skin. His blue jeans were rugged, worn with time. His eyes roamed over the large expanse of the space. Even though she was in the biggest library in the whole city, it started to feel very cramped.

Her cheeks began to burn as she recalled the fantasy she had in the shower not two hours ago. The very visual fantasy she had. His eyes met hers and a smirk slowly crept its way onto his face. She watched in slow motion as he walked over, counting down the seconds until he approached her.

“Mind if I sit here?” Tora asked. His voice was graveled but smooth like the honey of her morning soap. He gestured at the matching chair beside her. She bit her lip and shook her head no, trying desperately to bury her nose back in the book and pull her brain out of the gutter.

It was all she could do to stay focused on what she was reading but the smell of summertime and pine drifted over to her. A few moments of silence fell on them as she failed to read the next page in the book.

“Have ya read that before?” he asked and she jumped.

She shook her head again.

What on earth was wrong with her? They saw each other almost every day, and a few dirty images got her all twisted in knots? She read the same damn sentence twice now and she couldn’t focus.  She just wanted to relax. First, she woke up to shrieking, then her shower was interrupted. And now? She bit her tongue, trying to give herself some sort of anchor but it was deterred when his voice rumbled, low and void of the warmth it held a few moments ago.

“You’re a real piece of work.”

Her head snapped up as she met his eyes. They were practically burning her; scorching her in place. “Excuse me?” she replied, narrowing her eyes on him, hoping her gaze was just as fierce.

“Ya heard me. You’re a real piece of work. Ya wanna act like ya don’t know me or some shit? Being all cordial and what not at work but the second ya step outside ya too good?”

She slammed her book shut and stood up. “I came here to relax! To enjoy my Saturday. To be alone, Tora. Don’t get angry at me because you’re the one who is suddenly so social!” 

“Oh, I am so sorry to have bothered ya, Poppylan,” he spat back.

This was ridiculous. The hot and the cold. The Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde act. She had enough of this. She was going to return the damn book and and and didn’t know what!

“As you should be!” she sneered as she worked her way from the chairs with him hot on her heels. She looked in the direction of the fantasy section and glared at it. She should have just waited to come here. If she had, she may not have run into this jerk.

Tora was still stomping behind her, and the fury coming off of him was palpable. She could feel the fire blazing in his eyes, boring into her but she didn’t look back.

“Wait. Get the hell back here,” he called as the librarian looked at them with an arched brow, shushing them from her desk.

Poppy turned to face him, noting how close she had gotten to her destination. She placed one hand on her hip. “Oh, since you asked so nicely, how may I assist you? Are you going to sling more hurtful words my way?”

He paused for a moment, like he was trying to come up with some sort of quip.

When he didn’t say anything, she figured that was her cue to leave. That was not the case because he followed her. Oh, this man.

“You’re infuriating woman, do ya know that?”

Oh. So, she was infuriating AND she was too good for him? Well then, two could play this game. She went down the aisle that had a T-section at the end. She knew they were in a library, a sacred place for others to seek refuge from the outside world. But the fire he held in his eyes was burning and about to combust inside of her. She strode down the aisle, shoving the hapless book back in its place and glared back at him.

She got on her tiptoes, refusing to ignore the blister that was on her foot from those stupid boots. She grit the words out behind clenched teeth and speared him with her pointer finger. “And you’re an asshole!”

She couldn’t believe she had just said that. He was staring down at her as she stood her ground, daring him to mutter another word.

Next thing she knew, his hands were cupping her face and his lips met hers. The crash of their bodies met with a surge of wanting. The library melted around them and they were the only two people in the whole world. He freed one hand and placed it the small of her back, guiding her past the row of books and into the shelf at the end of it. He pressed her up against it, their lips never parting. Her tongue darted out, meeting his. She mewled then, because he tasted so delicious with a faint taste of strawberries on his breath.

He intoxicated her; she was breathing him, sensing him through the pores of her skin. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, trying to get him as close to her as possible.

He stopped almost as soon as he started and she was left breathless. Her eyes searched his, wondering what the hell just happened.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered, yet not letting go. She noticed his hand was still on her back. His other hand was cupping her cheek, and just like when they first met, and when he caught her, the same look in his eyes had a softness flick through them.

“Don’t be sorry,” she whispered back. “I shouldn’t have called you an asshole.”

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. But I do know, I think that I am responsible for all that I have done, not you. ”

“I believe, but I could be wrong, that you were kissing me,” she managed to say, even though her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest.

Tora smirked and leaned in, his lips ghosting hers. “Should I continue?”

Before she could answer though, her eyes flicked to the side to see a man in a police uniform with his hands on his hips standing at the end of the row. Tora had seemed to have been blocking her, as the cop didn’t seem interested in keeping his distance. Did the librarian call the cops on them?

“Tora!”

Tora jolted and breathed out, “Unfuckingbelievable,” and searched her eyes while one of his twitched.

“Glad I found ya son, I couldn't get a hold of ya– oh .”

Chapter Text

God dammit, why did he think this was a good idea? She was fucking ignoring him when all he was trying to do was make small talk. And she was acting like she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

Had he read it all wrong? Was she trying to maintain professionalism at work? Was she trying to keep the peace so that she didn’t get into trouble again? They seemed to have a good conversation and there was no residual tension between them. Well, until now.

Did he smell bad? Was it his sweater? He cleaned it the night before. Sure, it still had that permanent smell of cigarettes and pine, but there's just shit you can't get rid of no matter how hard you try. Tora frowned after she shook her head “no” for the second time.

For fucks sake, Joe could go fuck himself for making Tora go out that day. The asshole practically shoved him out of the door and threw the keys at him. First he wasn’t wanted at the only place he had called home in years and now this? Now he wasn’t even welcomed by her side in a common space? 

He even stood up for her when she needed him. He went out of his way to do the right fucking thing, and now she was too good to even glance in his direction? 

This was fucking bullshit. She was a real piece of work.

Her face shot up, her gaze scorching him. Shit. He didn’t realize he had said that out loud. Too late now though, he was gonna say what he wanted and get the fuck out of there.

“Excuse me?” she hissed.

“Ya heard me. You’re a real piece of work. Ya wanna act like ya don’t know me or some shit? Being all cordial and what not at work but the second ya step outside ya too good? Having me stand up for ya and then I can’t even sit next to ya?”

Tora looked at her as she stood up and slammed the hapless book shut. From what he saw, it was Stardus t. It wasn’t as well manicured as the ones she kept in her classroom, pristine and perfect with time not being an issue. This book though had small tatters on the binding and the colors of what he assumed were once rich gold and a navy blue were a bit faded. What kind of books did she have at home? Did she even have books at home? Why did it matter?

“I came here to relax! To enjoy my Saturday. To be alone, Tora. Don’t get angry at me because you’re the one who is suddenly so social!”

Well, fuck him, huh? If she wanted to be alone, he was gonna fuckin’ leave her alone. For the rest of the day, the week, the year, she’d be fuckin’ alone, not inconvenienced by him at all.

“Oh, I am so sorry to have bothered ya, Poppylan,” he spat back. There he fuckin’ said it, his words concrete, set in stone.

“As you should be!” she sneered as she got up from her seat and maneuvered pointedly as far away from him as possible. There was a slight snarl on her lips, her hips swaying dangerously as she passed him.

As he fuckin’ should be ? Oh fuck NO. She could go fuck herself. But god dammit, why the hell was he getting up to follow her? She stopped momentarily, looking in the direction of the fantasy section. Was she leaving the book here then? She wasn’t even gonna take it home? Was she leaving? Like hell she was going to be the one to leave first.

If he had to pick her up himself and haul them outside at the same goddamn time, so be it. He would have to catch her though. And fuck, for someone with short legs, she was fast.

“Wait, get the hell back here,” he demanded as the librarian looked on from her desk like she was watching some folks fly over the cuckoo's nest. Tora would bet a million bucks, if he had such money, that her name was “Miss Ratchet.” The librarian could go fuck herself too.

When he turned his attention back to Poppy, she was closer than he had realized. With a hand on her hip, anger flitted across her eyes before he could tell her how he really felt. What that was, he wasn’t quite sure, but god dammit, he felt something and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Oh, since you asked so nicely, how may I assist you? Are you going to sling more hurtful words my way?”

He was being hurtful? She was the one who was ignoring him, making him feel like shit for existing. He was gonna start off with that. But then Joe's stupid voice came into his head, him saying something the night that Tora was set free and stormed off to the park after Joe was a cop.

“If it weren’t for the second chances people gave me, or in your case, the fourth, I wouldn’t be where I am today .”

Tora replayed what had happened in his head. He came over, asked to sit down, she nodded her head yes. She didn’t tell him not to sit next to her, but she didn’t seem enthusiastic about it either. Had he read this whole situation wrong?

She was infuriating. THIS was infuriating. He wanted her. She wanted him to leave her alone. He didn’t want to leave her alone. Why the fuck did he not want to leave her alone? He never cared for company. He felt the need to go sit next to her. She seemed to not give a single fuck about who he was and had called him on his shit time and time again.

It pissed Tora off to no end that this woman, this tiny little thing with her messy hair and her big, bright brown eyes could make him feel so fucking twisted up inside. He hardly knew her. Shit, he knew that shit stain Gil, the sniveling idiot from prison, better than he knew her.

God dammit, he was pissed.

“You’re infuriating woman, do ya know that?”

Going down the aisle and coming to a crossroad where fantasy met non-fiction, she shoved the book in its rightful place. In that moment he was taken aback as she returned her attention to him, her eyes boring into his. And if looks could kill, she would send him six feet under in a god damn eternal loop.

Getting onto her tiptoes, she stabbed him in the chest with her pointer finger, right over his heart. “And you’re an asshole!”

Like being swept up in a maelstrom, their bodies collided. Cupping her face, their lips crashed in a wave of desperation. Her lips, as harsh and cold as the words that spilled from them, were soft and inviting. Her need to have him know his place yielded to him, guiding her against the bookshelf. He savored it, their lips never parting as he tasted the flavor of chocolate that blended with the strawberry juice he had earlier.

She let out a small whimper as they furthered their exploration. It felt so damn good and so damn right. But fuckin’ hell his dick had decided that it was time to join in too. Before he could pull himself away, she reached for his collar and pulled him closer. The smell of lavender and a resemblance of honey clung to her skin and he groaned in loathing to put distance between them.

God dammit, nothing about her was fucking easy. He had to rip his lips away, needing air to breathe and blood to flow from his cock to his brain. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered, yet not letting go. One hand was cupping her cheek and the other was on the small of her back. He may have stopped kissing her but that didn’t mean he wanted to. He wanted to hold on to her as long as she would allow it. 

He was sorry. Sorry that he was so fucked in the brain. Sorry that he kept messing everything up, that he couldn’t just be someone without a tattered past that left him questioning the intention of every single fucking person.

Especially himself. 

The one person who he always had wasn’t even trustworthy. That needed to change, he needed to change. Maybe it wasn’t the world that was so fucked, maybe it was him this whole time, since he was born. Maybe that’s why his parents didn’t want him? Why one of them escaped and the other one gave him away. Was he playing the victim when in reality he had been the offender the whole god damn time?

“Don’t be sorry.” Her voice, though wrathful just moments before, was but a delicate whisper, laced with regret, “I shouldn’t have called you an asshole.” 

She was right though, he was an asshole. So many times he had assumed he knew what was really going on only to be horrendously wrong. With her, Joe, his teenage years working with old Alice. Anyone who came into his life after he was sent to the group home was a target for his bad attitude, no matter their intentions. He’s apologized to her twice now. Maybe the third time would garner better results? He didn’t believe in the saying “third times the charm” because that was obviously bullshit, but Joe had encouraged second and third chances.

Was Poppy going to keep extending that grace that she had given him both times?

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. But I do know I think that I am responsible for all that I have done, not you,” he whispered harshly. It wasn’t quite an apology, but it was an admission of his guilt. He searched her eyes, pleading silently for her to stay with him in that pocket of time.

“I believe, but I could be wrong, that you were kissing me.” There was a twinkle in her eye, an invitation on her lips as she licked them.

Tora smirked and leaned in, his lips ghosting hers. “Should I continue?”

Before she could answer though, her eyes flicked to the side and she was tensing in his arms, her body language screaming that something had her panicked. Did she change her mind? Did the world come crashing back into existence and she finally realized what the hell she was doing? 

Fuck, he was doing it again. He needed to cut that shit.

Who was she looking at? Was it her friend with purple hair? Was it the librarian? His answer came when the sound of Joe's unmistakeable gravelly wheeze of a voice came from behind him.

“Tora!”

Tora jolted, not wanting to face him. His intentions of keeping his hands clean of any wrongdoing to anyone was slipping from his grasp, much like Poppy’s lips.

“Unfuckingbelievable,” he muttered, letting go of her cheek, sustaining the block on Joe's view of Poppy.

“Glad I found ya, son. I couldn't get a hold of ya–oh,” Joe said as his voice got closer and Poppy swayed to the side, revealing herself to the cop with the death wish.

Poppy looked back at Tora, biting her lip, and he let her go. Her hands went straight to her hair to fix it and then flattened her sweater. Tora turned to Joe, who was standing there like a fat deer in headlights. He was holding a cup of what he assumed was coffee and was in his uniform.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were here to see someone,” Joe rushed out, waving his hands in front of him, a splash of coffee spilling onto his pressed, khaki shirt.

“I wasn’t. I ran into her.” It wasn’t a lie. He did run into her, well, more like collided, he smirked to himself. Poppy’s face bloomed into a shade of the flower she was named after and it was all he could do to keep stoic. She ventured over to the books on the shelf behind them, looking as though she was trying to distract herself.

 “I need the keys to the car. My cruiser is having problems and won't start,” Joe explained, frowning down at the new spot on his shirt.

“How did ya get here, then?” Tora asked.

“My partner was able to give me a lift. But Sam won't be able to drop me off at home tonight, he’s got a date with the missus. So, I need the keys to get to the station and back. You don’t mind taking the bus home, do ya?”

“How about I take ya to the station and ya take the bus home?” Tora offered. He hated taking the fucking bus. He took it all of the time as a kid because his ma and pa only had the one car. It made grocery shopping a pain in the ass. After his pa left, they had no fucking car and his ma made him do the grocery shopping at the food basket. Last time he was on the bus was when he was shuttled to the Narin Federal Correctional Facility for Men.

“Well, what about your friend…Miss?”

Poppy whirled around, her hair waves of chocolate and caramel tendrils filled Tora’s vision. She walked up to Joe, a book in her hand and stuck out her other. Joe took her hand and returned the shake.

“I’m Miss Wilkes. Err…actually, that's what my students call me. Well, actually, some of them call me Miss Poppy. Poppylan is my real name though. Poppy is short for Poppylan so most people call me Poppy. But you didn’t ask me for my nickname. You didn’t ask me for my first name at all. Did you?” she asked, shaking Joe's hand the whole time. Joe had stars in his eyes over her, clearly enjoying how she rattled on, just like she did when they first met.

“Nice to meet ya, Poppy. I’m Officer Alice, but ya can call me Joe. Anyways, mind if I take the car from Tora?”

“Oh.” She finally let go of Joe's hand, blushing a little more, what Tora had guessed of the assumption Joe made. “I actually walked here. But I’m thinking that was a bad idea. These boots are definitely not made for walking. I’m just going to have my friend pick me up,” she said as she dug out her phone, frowning a moment later. “Just kidding. She texted me and said she had to take an emergency trip. So I guess it’s the bus for me.”

FUCK.

Joe clapped his hands together. “Tora, keys?”

Tora grumbled, fishing around for the keys, feeling like a teenager whose dad just confiscated them from him. In front of the girl whom he was just making out with. He needed to get his own car. Or learn how to fix cars. Or both. Too bad that fucker Scharch was still locked up. The asshole said he used to work in a body shop, until he got arrested for stealing and joy riding the clients cars.

Finding the keys, Tora wrenched them out from his pocket and handed them over, dropping them in Joe's hand.

“While I have ya here, Cordelia, your lawyer, stopped by this morning-”

“Not now, Joe,” he growled, his eye twitching in annoyance while he nodded at Poppy who was walking past the partition between Fantasy and Myths. She seemed really perceptive and there was no way she didn’t hear that.

“Ah, got it. Got it. Well, I’ll be on my way. Call me if ya need anything,” he said with a sly smile, his eyes trailing the back of her head as her hair bounced with her steps. As for Tora, he was following her ass.

“Like keys?” Tora deadpanned, turning his attention back to Joe when she completely disappeared.

Joe chuckled and called out to Poppy. “Nice to meet ya, Poppy.”

She popped out from behind the wall, a small stain of red still on her porcelain skin. “You too, Joe,” she agreed with a smile before disappearing again.

Joe leaned in to Tora, as if he was about to share a secret. “You should be careful.”

“Don’t worry. I wont hurt her.”

“No, I mean with ya self, kid. She’s a sweetheart, but don’t be giving your heart away to the first woman who notices ya.”

Tora rolled his eyes at Joe's advice. But what Joe didn’t know is Poppy wasn’t the first woman to notice him. It got interesting when his mugshot was released all those years ago when he was booked on murder charges. Many women would send him fan mail that he would toss. He couldn’t remember all the chicks he would hook up with in seedy hotels just to get his dick wet. But Poppy was the first woman to see him. To challenge him. To hold his gaze when others would crumble at his feet. So, no, he wasn’t going to give his heart away to the first woman who noticed him. If he did that, it would have been a long time ago.

“Yeah, OK. I won't give my heart away to the first woman who notices me,” Tora said as Joe nodded and clapped his shoulder.

“See ya later, kid. Oh and the forecast called for rain, so good thing ya brought ya jacket,” he called out from over his shoulder as he made his way out of the library. 

Tora waved, then started to look for Poppy.

He found her a moment later as she was holding a green book. Her eyes scanned the contents as her fingers moved through the pages and she…smelled it.

Letting out a sigh, she smiled and closed the book. “Perfect.”

“What ya got there?” Tora asked as he came over to her. She jumped and her eyes went wide as she pulled the book to her chest.

“It’s a book.”

He had gathered that much. “Yes, I see that. Ya know, just ‘cause I clean shit up, doesn’t mean I got shit for brains,” he teased with a smirk, trying to let her know she hadn’t truly offended him. If she were anyone else though, he’d slap them over the head.

She shoved it towards him, letting him inspect the book himself. It was tattered and worn with age, like the Stardust book she had put back, the hue resembling that of the hoodie he had on. 

The title was simple, Mythology with Pegasus on the front, threaded in the same embellishments of the gold title. He looked at the other books with the same name, the rest of them looked brand new and were leatherbound. Even the lettering along with the front cover illustrations were perfect, as if they had just been donated from the big box stores with the coffee shops attached.

“Why this one when there’s newer ones? Like the ones you have in your classroom?” Tora asked as he flipped through the pages, stopping to the story of “Icarus.” The story of the son who ignored those around him, doing as he pleased, not heeding their warnings and ended up flying too close to the sun as the support of his wax wings left him diving into the ocean, drowning from his own mistakes.

“Oh, pfft. Those ones I keep at school are just the newer versions of the ones I have at home. I was actually contemplating bringing my home library with me, or at least a few books. But some of them are so worn and precious to me that I’d be devastated if something were to happen to them. Besides, give it a smell,” she explained enthusiastically, not taking a breath and gesturing her hands wildly.

“What?” he asked as she stopped talking.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I said, give it a smell.”

Tora looked at her, knowing what she was talking about, the book smell, a very particular kind but he couldn’t believe she was ordering him to smell it. He would entertain it though. Putting his nose up to it, he breathed it in. He closed his eyes and he realized once again, how stupid he had been about assuming things about her. An asshole, indeed.

A few moments later, a giggle broke up his thoughts and he looked at her, her eyes shining with mirth.

“See. You’re still smelling it. New books don’t have that! I like the ones that have some tears, maybe a rip or two on the spine and maybe a dedication or something like that written in pen. It tells a story.”

“Then why did ya put Stardust back?”

“Because you were pissing me off and I wasn’t thinking clearly,” she admonished him with a curl of amusement on her lips. Lips he wanted to taste again. 

Would she let him now that that moment had been over for a while now? She moved past him, plucking the book from his grip and going back over to the fantasy section.

She looked at him as she took Stardus t from its spot “You take this home, let me know how you like the different myths of these Greek tragedies.” She handed the green book back to him and his fingers brushed against hers during the hand off. Her brows furrowed and she wet her lips again.

He cupped her face, his body moving towards her. Looking into her bright brown eyes, he studied her, his eyes moving back and forth, searching for the answer to his silent question. She nodded, the both of them abandoning their respective books to the floor as he guided her against the bookshelf again. Their lips crashing once more along with the thunder that boomed and echoed through the library. There was a storm coming in, the one that Joe had warned him about. But they kept their hands on one another. He pressed into her, a small whimper escaping her. The sound went straight to his dick, and he didn’t give a fuck this time. 

Pressing harder into her, she gasped, while his cock demanded relief under the confines of his jeans.

“Tora,” she breathed out, and fuck, he wanted to hear that again.

“Ahem. You two need to either find the books you want or leave.” Tora whipped his face around to find a very aggravated librarian behind him and a now giggling Poppy in front of him.

*******

After collecting their books, and their decency, Poppy and Tora made their way to the front of the library. He noticed she was grimacing and from the way she was limping, he figured she wasn’t kidding about her boots.

They really did look uncomfortable. She looked uncomfortable. It was pissing rain. He fiddled with the hem of his green hoodie and looked at her sweater. He could lend it to her, right? She’d take care of it right? She’d give it back to him on Monday, he supposed.

“Shoot. It’s coming hard down out there. Fudge. And the nearest bus stop is a block from here.”

Tora took off his hoodie and handed it to her as she started to check out both of the books. He smirked at her library card when she scanned it. It had a cat on it with a pile of books surrounding it saying All Booked .

“Here, take my hoodie.”

She blinked at him. “Tora this is yours, and besides won't you be cold?”

Being cold and uncomfortable wasn’t new to him. Shivering in the group homes when they would take away his blankets as a form of punishment flooded his memories. That, and when his ma wouldn’t pay the electric bill because she had spent the money on alcohol. And while that wasn’t new for him, sharing sure as hell was. Any time he got something new, he would covet it, and he wouldn’t let it out of his possession. He knew this about himself.

Pushing those memories aside, he sighed. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”

She smiled at him as she put it on. “How do I look?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye as she zipped it up.

He chuckled. “Ya swimming in it…sweet…”

She raised her brow at him.

“Thing.”

“Sweet thing? Really, Totoro?” she dead panned.

Tora barked out a laugh. “Well, ya don’t like sweetheart.”

“Mmm..I don't know, I prefer it now more than “sweet cheeks'' or “sweet thing,” she said as she took both books and gave the Greek myths to him.

“Which bus are ya takin’, sweetheart?” he asked as they meandered out of the library while Poppy gave the librarian a sweet smile and wave. The woman just frowned and looked back at her computer. They were both under the entryway of the library by then, the rain pouring on the sidewalk and glazing the windows.

He frowned, fucking Joe and his uncanny timing.

“The bus stop is in that direction.” Poppy pointed to the right, where most of the rain water was flowing from. A sudden boom of thunder crashed through the sky, making Poppy jump, her body instinctively grabbing onto him while the lightning painted the sky in its fury.

God damn it was coming down hard.

Her fingernails dug into his arm when another angry sound reverberated through the city. He wondered what it would feel with her nails raking down his back.

“Sorry, I’ve never been a fan of thunderstorms. They echo a lot more here.”

“Come on, scoot in closer,” Tora said as he plucked her hand from his forearm, and draped his arm over her shoulder. The shiver that ran through him wasn’t because of the draft in the air. It was from the smell of rain, lavender, honey and the taste of the woman he was standing with on the stairs of the library.

When they went back home, would it go back to how it was? Would he try to venture too close to the sun? Would he be burned and then drown in his need to be near her? 

“Tora, I don’t think it's safe for either of us to leave right now. At least not try to walk to the bus stops. Wanna get a rideshare? That way we can both get home safe.”

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could help it, “Or ya can just come over.”

Chapter Text

Holy fuck, she actually said yes. He had no fucking clue what they were gonna do. What were they supposed to do? Were they going to finish what they started in the library? He frowned. He slept on a shitty couch and the fat cop slept on the bed.

What would she think? Would she even care? Christ. Of course she would. You don’t just take a woman back to your place and ask her if she minds banging on the kitchen floor. But then again, he’d never done anything like this. Maybe he could just take her up against the wall? Or maybe she didn’t want to do any of that. Would she get there and decide to run after the driver in a desperate attempt to get away?

The drive back to his place was too fucking quiet. The only noise was the radio in the background in the small ass car that picked them up. But the questions rolling around in his head were loud as fuck.

For fucks sake, he had to sit in the fucking front seat with the driver while Poppy sat in the back. He had tried to get in the back with her but there wasn’t enough room or time. She was drenched as it was. He had to get in the front. Life wasn’t some sort of romantic comedy, but fuck what he wouldn't give to be on the bus with her instead of in the front seat with this kid who had acne and foul body odor.

The kid and Tora kept glancing back at her in the rearview mirror at the same time. Not that Tora could blame him. But if Tora caught him one more time, he was gonna bash the kids head in the goddamn steering wheel. Her cheeks pinked as the heater warmed her skin. She nestled into the seat, wiping her face, ridding it of the rain with the hem of the sleeve of the hoodie. Her eyes met Tora’s in the rearview, a small smile tugging at her lips.

What was going through her mind?

She was doing this. She wanted to get to know him, and not just from the true crime podcasts she had listened to. 

What was he really like when it was just him at home?

What was his place like? How many rooms? Did he have a roommate? Did she have to meet the roommate? Do ex-prisoners have roommates? Was he a clean person? He cleaned for a living, so he had to be, right? These were all pretty presumptuous thoughts. She rolled her eyes at herself. She shouldn’t just blurt things out, in her mind or not.

This whole week has been so up and down. Between him catching her twice, the incident with Mr. Lam and Julri, on top of her actual job and grading papers,she was lucky to get to work and muster the energy to eat cold pizza for dinner.

Maybe that’s why he went ballistic on her in the library? She did basically ignore him for the rest of the week. But she smiled at him to acknowledge him every time she saw him.

Something about him though makes her crazy. He’s always so mad, this man who keeps her on her toes. Each time they interacted with each other, it was always that of war and peace. When one of them is trying to be sensible and clear headed, the other is demanding a battle. And when neither of them get what they want, someone always ends up yelling at the other. Very few times have they just had a civil conversation.

What was that game? Tug-of-War where both sides are fighting for dominance, refusing to meet in the middle? That’s what this was. 

She was two seconds away from slapping the ever loving shit out of him before he kissed her the first time.

The second time, she was so tempted to let him take her up against the bookshelf at the library and get in even more trouble. Now that she thought about it, that would be pretty hot.

But Poppy never did anything like that. Instead, she played it safe. And thank goodness that man Joe showed up when he did or else by the time the librarian got there, well, her fantasy may have happened.

And that was another thought that went through her mind. How did Tora know him? Were they neighbors? Joe seemed to trust him enough to let him borrow his car.

Poppy glanced into the rearview mirror, the heat of the moment replaying over and over in her head, keeping her busy while they sat in the silence of the car. To her amusement, Tora was looking at her too. Ugh, her cheeks were pink. Hopefully he thought it was from the heater being put on full blast. Her nose wrinkled as the smell of onions permeated throughout the small car. Tora’s hoodie smelled amazing though. She placed the hem of the arm on her face, taking in the scent of pine and campfire with a subtle hint of tobacco, shielding her nose from the offensive odor of their driver.

Her eyes darted away as soon as the drivers met hers and she looked back at her phone. What a creep.

No sooner did Tora’s hand twitch with a promise of pain did the driver pull up to his place. Thank fuck for all parties involved. He really hoped Joe didn't leave a mess before he left. He dug his key out of his pocket, knowing full well that neither him nor Joe were dumb enough to leave a spare key under a doormat.

He got out of the car, not even caring to say his thanks, and helped Poppy from her side. Shutting the door behind them, he heard the car take off in the background. Holy shit it was raining hard. Putting the key in, and turning the handle, he took a deep breath. With his hand on the small of her back, he led her in.

Immediately, she took off her shoes, moaning as one boot fell from her tortured foot then the other. And even though it wasn't sexual at all, he wanted to hear her moan like that again. 

Here’s to hoping she didn’t leave.

God, her feet were throbbing. It felt so good to get those shoes off. After placing them on the floor, she took in her surroundings.

Well, this place was charming.

The living room was wide open with a plain, gray loveseat and matching chairs on each side. In the center was a glass coffee table with a fake cherry blossom tree, mimicking the much larger one on the cobbled street in front. 

Her eyes darted to the kitchen window and gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

It was like the kind she had at home in Moonbright. Antique white paint window panes, chipping away from age. She wandered over to it, leaving Tora to lock up behind them. She had tried to jostle the window open, but it was stuck. She frowned and peeked over her shoulder to see Tora still trying to lock the door.

“ Mother fucking lock .”

She suppressed a giggle and turned back to the kitchen.

Nestled in the far corner was a round oak table and four matching chairs. In the middle there was a bowl of fruit, real fruit. Not like the glass-blown ones Erdene had made. They looked fresh like they had just been picked up from the Narin River Farmers Market that her and Erdene frequented.

She peeked up the narrow staircase that went into another room. The door was shut though. Maybe that was the attic?

Before she could ask, Tora rushed past her, going up the stairs.

“I’ll be right back.”

“And I’ll be Poppy!” she tossed over to him as she took a seat. She wasn't sure but she thought she heard a snort of a laugh coming from him as he ascended the stairs. God, she sounded like a twelve year old.

He needed to get a goddamn condom. Thank fuck Joe had a whole stash of them. Was this what it was like having a dad? Was he supposed to thank him later while he was watching whatever that show was? The Golden Hags or some shit? Like “Hey Papa Joe, thanks for the condoms. They really came in handy. That girl ya met that I was making out with? I fucked her. And I fucked her good.”

That is, if she hadn’t left already. He did kind of stomp up the stairs and rush past her.

He needed to get a goddamn grip. After he got that condom. His eyes narrowed at the stash they kept under the sink. Magnum lambskin XL for a natural feeling. He tucked it away in his pocket and went back downstairs.

She was standing back over by the window. On top of the counter. What the fuck was she doing?

*******

“Have you ever sat in a man’s lap like this before?” Tora asked as they sat on the floor in the kitchen from where he caught her again . Something about fixing a screw or something to open the window. They were up against the cabinets, breathing heavily, searching each other's eyes.

“No.”

“Are you a virgin?” he needed to know.

“No, but, it’s been a while for me,” she whispered, her eyes cast down and her hands ringing together. Tora reached for her then, tilting her head up with one hand and taking her hands with the other.   

“Me too,” he said, just as soft. 

“Just, please, be careful.”

If he didn’t know any better, she was pleading with him to read between the lines. He didn’t trust easily, that much was apparent. But this woman who seemed to have no problem telling him where he could shove it, was guarded. Maybe even more so than him.

“I will. I’ll try not to hurt ya.”

She nodded, and their lips met, soft and gentle. Straddling him, she moved her hips, grinding on his lap. She surrounded him in all of the best ways. The scent of rain and lavender clung to her skin as he breathed her in. The taste of sugar on her lips was so fucking delicious, he wanted more. He licked her lips, and she gasped before her own tongue darted out to meet him halfway.

He pulled his mouth from hers, wanting to taste more of her body. Lifting her from his lap, he encouraged her to take a seat on the couch next to them. She looked at him, breathless and beautiful. He said he wouldn’t hurt her, and he meant it.

She shed her sweater, leaving her in a lacy, pink bra with cherry blossoms. It was soft, subtle. She stood then, taking off her pants to reveal a matching set of panties. Her body was glorious. Curvy and perfect. Would he ever be able to look at a cherry blossom tree without thinking of her? Her areola was peeking out from behind the lace, and god damn, he knew the answer was “ NO .”

He knelt on the floor, an act of worship as she sat back down. Stripping off his shirt, she was watching him with rapt fixation as he blindly threw it.

He put his hands on her knees, kissing each cap. She started trembling, and for a moment, he thought maybe she had never been touched like this before. She wasn’t a virgin, she said so. But even if she had, he’d make damn sure that whenever she parted her legs for anything, she would miss his touch.

“Just, relax.” He kissed her inner thigh as he coaxed her legs apart, opening her up to him. He grabbed her panties and slipped them off of her, having them join where he sat. He kept his touch light, merely a brush of his lips on her skin.

Languidly, he made his way up to her pussy, her breathing coming in short and heavy, and he dived in, tongue first.

Christ.

“Oh my god,” she whispered harshly. She had never been licked before. Her ex-boyfriend, Nick, was such a selfish lover, if you could call him that. He always took from her and never gave. All of the times they had sex, it was always rushed, like he was in a race to see who could get off faster.

It was always him.

Why the hell was she even thinking about him at a time like this? She was pretty sure that she would never open her legs without thinking of Toraki Hara between them ever again. He looked up at her then from under his eyelashes, a hungry beast of a man sucking and licking in all of the right-

Oh my . 

Tora groaned, the sound reverberating through her as he flicked her clit with his tongue. Her hands went to his hair then, getting lost in the sea of ink, encouraging him to stay right where he was. He then pulled her hips, her bottom meeting the end of the couch, and he threw her legs over his shoulders, his tongue going deeper in her than she thought was even possible. His tattoos were beautiful. The koi fish and peonies danced on his skin as he pulled her down with him.

“Tora-” she panted.

 And goddamn if that didn’t go straight to his dick. He was so fucking hard and it took all of his will power not to just whip out his cock right there and stroke himself. Her hands tugged on his hair again, pressing him deep between her thighs. She tasted sweet and a bit sour, like the strawberry juice he favored.

Tora inserted his ring finger in her, groaning again when he felt the resistance. His dick twitched, demanding relief, but that had to wait.

She was wriggling then, his name falling from her lips. Could she sound any hotter? He placed his pointer finger in and she let out a beautiful cry of pleasure with his full fucking name. “Toraki-please. Please. PLEASE.”  

Re-doubling his efforts, he sought out her clit with his thumb. Against her smooth bead, the rough pad stroked it, encouraging her to let go of the pent up frustration and give into the pleasure.

A moment later, he felt her tighten, her thighs trembling and her hands assaulting his scalp.

Her body went taught as he looked up, a beautiful “ O” forming on her lips with her eyes closed, her brows furrowed as the intense orgasm flew through her body. God damn, she was so fucking beautiful. He wanted her to make that face over and over.

Before he could give anything else a second thought, she stood on the couch. He stood with her, wondering what the hell she was going to do.

Screw it, she was going to climb him like a tree. She lunged at him, and wrapped her legs around his hips. 

“Holy fuck–” he yelled as he caught her, cupping her bottom. She didn’t even care that he hadn’t even washed his mouth. She needed to taste her pleasure on his lips. She kissed him eagerly, nipping at his bottom lip. Moving towards the back wall, they crashed against the wood paneling.

He trailed searing hot kisses up the length of her neck, biting her here and there, making her gasp.

Marching back over to the couch with Poppy still clinging to him, he got the throw pillows and the few blankets that hung from the back, tossing them down in rapid succession with her kissing his neck.

He knelt back down, settling her on the ground on top of the blankets. Standing back up, he took off his pants and boxers, leaving her staring at him wide-eyed. Tora grabbed the condom from his discarded pants and rolled it on. Poppy unhooked her bra and threw it blindly to the side, joining the puddle of clothes.

Poppy's chest was heaving and her eyes were blown wide, her lips swollen. Tora hovered over her, and she wrapped her legs around his hips.

He took a breath before he entering her. He moaned as her tight heat sucked him in. He dropped his head to her tits, loving them, marking them as his own. He nibbled on them, tenderly, swirling his tongue around them, making for fucking sure to savor every moment. Because come Monday, though he hoped it was just his mind fucking with him, they wouldn’t be equals.

But not right now.

With their hips rocking against each other and his warm kisses trailing along her neck, Poppy gasped. Waiting for more friction, more him, more everything was making her so deliciously impatient.

Poppy leaned into him, and it sent electricity through her. It felt like her body was supposed to be against his. The way they moved in unison, like they had done this so many times before was nothing like she had never felt. But they hadn’t. And it was all so much, pulling her under with him. 

His hands were all too happy to embrace her, loving the feel of her warm, silky smooth skin under his rough hands. 

Breathlessly, his name was whispered into his ear. He mindlessly sought out her clit, knowing already what she liked. But like reading his favorite book, he knew the words, pages, and what it took to get there. As much as he had been tempted like so many times in the past to skip ahead, he held back, letting himself enjoy this part.

He thrust into her, grabbing her hips to pull her in closer.

She wasn’t a virgin but Christ she was so tight. 

He stole her breath with a kiss and he was about to fall over the edge himself. She cried out, and he went for her clit then, rolling it just like he knew how to. Her brows furrowed and her thighs trembled.

“Tora…” With a few more snaps, her pussy clamped around him. He let go at that moment, spilling into her with a moan.

They laid there, his nose touching hers as they both caught their breaths. He couldn’t move. He could only think of one thing.

God Damn.

What was sex like before her? If he couldn’t remember, it sure as hell didn’t matter. The way she moved with him like their bodies were meant to be joined was something he had never fucking felt before.

Her soft gasps, her tiny cries of pleasure, her panting his name in his ear as she fell apart under him? It was the most intoxicating symphony he had ever heard.

And he was hooked.

******

The rain was still falling and he wasn’t about to make her leave out in that. Her friend wasn’t around, he had no fucking car, and like hell was he going to make her get in a ride share. The best and only option in his mind was to have her spend the night.

He brought up his texts with Joe, and it looked like Tora got lucky, not for the first time that day. He huffed out in amusement at his own joke, as he read that Joe would have to work overnight.

That settled it then.

But where the fuck would she sleep? She could take the couch downstairs that Joe had bought a few days ago, but that would be awkward as hell. He wasn’t going to offer Joe’s bed. Who knew how many times that asshole jacked off. Well, he could sleep on the floor next to the couch. That would be fine, right? But how would she react if she saw him sleeping on the floor?

Christ. What had he gotten himself into? He deadpanned, “ Poppylan Wilkes, you horny bastard.”

“What are you doing?” She came up from behind him. She was wearing the green T-rex sweater he had loaned her while her clothes were drying. And he had to hold himself back from fucking her again because holy fuck she was in his boxers too. He was never going to wash those again.

“Well, it’s still storming really bad. And I uh…well I was thinking um…I think it’d be best if ya–”

Her heart fell. She knew what was coming next. He was sending her away. She wanted to cry. She could feel her chin quiver as hot tears started to make their way to the surface.

“If I left?” she asked quietly as she moved to gather, well, her purse for starters since she had no clothes because they were in the dryer.

Tora turned to her, his face screwed up in confusion. His hands reached for hers. “No. I want ya to stay, if only for the night.”

******

Tora woke up, his eyes adjusting to the delicate golden morning light coming in from the window with rays caressing his skin. The morning birds sang, their melodies drifting in from beyond the glass. His arm was draped over Poppy and for a moment he thought he was in that space between dreams. Because this seemed too good to be true, but fuck if he never wanted it to end.

He stroked her back as she laid next to him on their makeshift bed on the floor. The pile of pillows from the couch and the multicolored sea of blankets laid on the hardwood. What had seemed to be a ridiculous idea to him, camping out in the living room, turned out better than he could have ever imagined.

The powder blue sheet teased him while it barely covered her breasts. Yet the cloth missed her back, but tortured him as it wrapped around her hips, and swept over her ass. Her arm was outstretched to the side, with Stardust on the outskirts of where they had spent the night.

He had never laid down by a woman before. Not like this, anyways. He could easily do this again. Fuck, he wanted to do this again, as many times as he could. As many times as she would allow it. 

Would she allow it? Or was this a one and done thing for her? He knew for him, once Monday morning came, he was terrified of how she would act. Would she pretend like last night never happened? And would they go back to being strangers who passed in the hallway? 

Would she get shit from everyone if they knew that she had slept with someone who did time in prison and could only scrub toilets to make a living? 

Continuing to caress her while the sound of rain softly pitter-pattered against the window, he sighed, making the few baby hairs that laid on her face dance and twirl as they tickled her nose. He smirked when her lips formed a frown. Her hand went up then to brush them out of the way, leaving Tora catching her wrist in his grip.

She blinked up at him, her eyes still hazy from sleep, and fuck she looked like an angel. He raised her hand to his lips, wondering still if he was going to wake up. With each tender kiss to the tip of her fingers, Tora recalled everything from the night before.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.”

Poppy never thought she would be the kind to wake up with someone like him next to her in the early morning after an impromptu sleepover. Yet here she was, staring up at someone who was more than rough around the edges. He was a razor with a heated blade; ready to slice and scorch in one smooth swoop.

But she couldn’t deny that with his fierce and fiery temperament, also came a dulcet disposition, Like how she felt the soft brush of his fingers this morning on her skin as he stroked her back.

She could lay like this with him for as long as he wanted, if he wanted her to.

Would he still want her? What would happen when Monday came? They both worked at the highschool. Would he try to get a job somewhere else so that he didn’t have to see her? Was he trying to coax her awake just to send her away?

This was why she stopped seeking out relationships. The good ones were taken from her like a thief in the night. The bad ones only sought her out so she could be used. But once she stopped shining for them, like a burnt out star, she was discarded.

Shoot. She was doing it again. He wouldn’t do that, right?

He had said last night that he wanted her to stay just for the night. But she didn’t want to leave.

Her thoughts were whirring around so fast in her mind, like a cyclone, that when he brushed his lips over her fingers, they spilled out from her eyes. Her tears kissed the pillow while memories of the night before pulled her to the surface.

“Good Morning, Tora.”

He pulled her towards him, helpless in his need to be near her again. He kissed the crown of her head, and she leaned into him, their legs tangling together.

“There’s something between us; a sort of pull. Something you do to me…” he whispered at the nape of her neck. She turned into his embrace.

“And you to me…” she whispered back.

And for the first time in 26 fucking years..he started to feel…

Wanted.

Chapter Text

Hi all. I just wanted to drop by to let you know that I am going to come back to this story...eventually.

It's planned out but keep in mind this story deals a lot with struggles whether its with communication, how things *may seem, trying to start from scratch etc. When I tell you there have been days where I have struggled to get this story down, I am not kidding. I'm not trying to be dramatic (because it just comes naturally, honestly) but I have CRIED writing baby Tora & his current struggles. 

I am taking a break from writing in general, too. No one shots or other stories will be published or updated while I take a break from this one. 

I love talking to all of you & you guys have been so amazingly supportive but I wanted to give you this update on this platform. I wont beg for people to not ask me when there is going to be an update. I hope we all have a mutual respect of boundaries for one another that when I tell you I don't have a timeline, you will be able to leave it at that.

The next few chapters are going to be heavy and with my own struggles, I need to be in a good space. 

Please still hang out with me on Instagram under A.E.Gast where I will still be posting for CANON material/ fangirl stuff. Weekly check-ins for Wellness Wednesdays are a thing but please feel free to contact me there if you just need a shoulder to cry on at anytime. I know I said I need to focus on my mental health, but we are in this together as we go through our own healing.

I have met/connected with a lot of people writing this story. The things people have shared with me chapter to chapter have been so beautiful that I feel privileged. 


Thank you readers <3

Chapter Text

 "I am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship."
- Louisa May Alcott. 

Hi Fam,

Before I give you a snippet of the next, very unfinished chapter, I felt like I owe you, my dear readers, an explanation.

It's been one hell of a year. No joke, I wish I could have just slept through September and skip it. *Cue the Greenday song* When I went on my break, it was because the remaining chapters are EXTREMELY heavy & as it was, life was already getting angsty. Mentally, I was drained and my physical health was taking a dive as well.

It was never my intention to leave for so long and for someone who has abandonment issues, it sure seems like I have abandoned this story. Many of you talk to me on IG and we chat. Some of you will drop in and say "I have re-read this fic countless times and I cry every time." As terrible as it sounds, I take that as a compliment.

When I wrote Tora crying with Joe, I cried with him. When he raged, I felt his anger seep into me. When Poppy felt inadequate, I wanted to hug her and tell her, "Same sis." There are moments of comical relief and there are moments of tooth-rotting fluff. But the main goal of this story was to outline a made-up character's very real internal struggle.

And I hope I have captured that. Not as a copy-and-paste story but as something that feels like this came from a very genuine source. Now that I have your attention, please take note that I still have every intention of continuing this story. I just don't have a timeline, just like mental health recovery doesn't. Please see the below snippet of the whole few paragraphs I've written this past year.

& Thank you dear readers & friends for giving me the time and space to just exist.

❤️

Tora shouldn’t have been surprised that Monday morning when reality slapped him in the face.

The words they shared on his living room floor in a sea of blankets, after they gave into their desires, was a cruel alternate reality of what could have been if their lives weren’t so different.

The insidious snare that was Poppylan Wilkes had him trapped. Looking at her was torture, knowing how she felt under his hands. Listening to her laugh, knowing how she sounded as pleasure consumed her was painful. But it was knowing all of this and still not having enough from that one day that was certain to destroy him.

They shared nothing more after she left him, in the hollow of his home. And now they were standing close but so very far away. The way that it was supposed to be, he supposed.

Because why would he expect anything else?

❤️