“Nakahara Chuuya-kun, those pants are against uniform regulations.”
Chuuya makes a face like he’s willing to go into a brawl right then and there, if not for the fact that they are inside a library. Aftermath of the Sports Meet ushers in the groans of despair regarding the upcoming exams before the winter vacation can begin. There are too many fellow students who are studying in the surroundings, and Chuuya does not fancy getting called to the registrar’s office to explain himself if he ends up chucking an entire bookshelf towards someone annoying.
“This again?” His mouth twists into a sneer. “Prof Glasses, do you have nothing else to do but piss me off about my clothes?!”
During his first day as a transferee to this school, it’s his leather gloves that’s been cited for breaking uniform. On his second week, it’s his choker. During the Sports Meet, it’s his hat that’s been confiscated, alongside with the insistence for him to zip up his jacket. And now, this person is going after his pants?!
“It’s going against regulation,” Ango insists, even if he looks a bit feverish under the library’s lights.
Chuuya resists the urge to kick the other man. “This is my style, okay! S-Stop sweating each and every thing, damn it!”
It’s not his fault that the sizes for this school’s uniform is fucking big, okay! He’s already ordered the extra-small for first-years! And yet his top still hangs a bit on the shoulders. It’s why he doesn’t like zipping up his jersey fully too, because the loose fit is more obvious. That shitty Dazai had teased him so many times about buying uniform from the middle school section—and he actually looked it up, okay? But they don’t sell uniforms to those without a middle school ID, damn it!
…Worse, his pants end up trailing past his feet. He has to fold them so that he doesn’t end up tripping all over them. He’s been doing it for months, why the fuck is Prof Glasses now cramping his style?!
“A responsible high school student must not flash his ankles to his fellow students,” Ango declares, glasses glinting. “I could see them from far away, Chuuya-kun.”
“Maybe you should get a lower prescription for your glasses then!”
“They’re very distracting.”
“Stop looking at my feet then!”
“They’re very pale and noticeable.” The flush on Ango’s cheeks deepen. “People can’t help but look at them.”
He shakes his head. “You should stop hanging out with that bastard Dazai, you’re starting to sound as annoying as him.”
“I’m just doing my job,” Ango says, then kneels beside him, hands wrapping around his right foot.
“What the hell—!”
He doesn’t kick the entire table and Ango’s entire person, flabbergasted beyond belief.
Ango’s hands are clammy, but careful, as they circle his exposed ankle and lower calf, slowly unfolding the rolled-up hem of his pants so it ends up rolling past the heel of his indoor shoes.
Said hands have grown shakier when they reach for his left ankle. A muttered “this is just my job” is repeated like a reverent mantra, as he does the same action there, covering up his skin like he’s some sort of Victorian lady who must keep her dignity by covering up her legs.
“…Is… Is this some new sort of bullying?” With his pants rolled-down, it’d be a wonder if he doesn’t trip the moment he tries to walk more than ten steps. “Have you finally gone insane from the stress of upcoming exams?”
“I can buy you pants that fit better,” Ango then declares, apropos of nothing. “I have saved up my allowance since I was in middle school, so… My finances are much better than Dazai-kun’s.”
What does this have to do with what he said? Is this Prof Glasses threatening him with money? Thinks he’ll get scared by a wad of bills? He can punch it away, damn it! “Congratu-fucking-lations, everyone has a much better financial state than that mackerel.”
Ango clears his throat and looks redder than ever. He doesn’t let go of his foot. “If you need to go to your next class, I can help carry you so you won’t trip.”
Chuuya looks critically at the other’s arms. As expected of Dazai’s circle of friends, muscle-building is a foreign concept. “Did shitty Dazai put you up to annoy me so I can’t study in peace?”
“I should study here instead and make sure you won’t violate any more of the dress code,” Ango responds to something that he doesn’t say at all, before hightailing it out of the library, one hand pressed to what seems to be an inopportune nosebleed.
Chuuya clicks his tongue as he bends down a bit so he can roll his pants back up. As he’s feared, this school really is filled with weirdoes.
The following day, there’s news that Ango’s hit by a weird stomach flu and has to stay at home for the next two weeks. The library has also been closed down due to a bomb threat of some sort.
Chuuya can only shake his head at this.
This school is really, really weird.