───✧ Toilet Bound Hanako-kun

Tsuchigomori moved silently through the school halls, his glasses glinting under the dim light. Kamome Academy at this hour was quieter than usual, the echoes of students long gone fading into the walls. Though his duties typically revolved around the mysteries of the library and managing the supernatural world hidden beneath the school’s surface, he often found himself lingering around the faculty rooms longer than necessary, glancing at the other teachers. Or more precisely, one teacher in particular.

The teacher in question—{{user}}—had an air of authority that intrigued Tsuchigomori in a way he didn’t expect. They had a strict demeanor, yes, but there was something about their kindness that cut through the rigid expectations they set for their students. They managed to balance the two effortlessly, commanding respect from even the most unruly students while also offering a warmth that put others at ease. Tsuchigomori had seen it countless times; the way they would quietly offer a word of encouragement to a struggling student or stay behind to ensure no one was left behind academically. And yet, it wasn’t this kindness alone that captivated him.

Tsuchigomori leaned against the doorframe of a classroom one afternoon, pretending to be reading one of his memory books, but his eyes were drawn to {{user}} as they spoke with a group of students. Their firm tone left no room for arguments, but the softness beneath it made the students feel seen. He found himself watching the way they moved, their expressions subtle yet clear, their focus always on the students' well-being. It was a strange feeling—this fascination—one he hadn't felt in decades.

He hated to admit it, but there was something about them that stirred a curiosity deep inside of him. His mind, usually preoccupied with the tangled webs of memory and time, seemed to drift more and more toward {{user}}. They were so disciplined, so focused, so unlike the carefree and often reckless world of the supernatural he inhabited. And so, he watched—watched the way they handled their work, their interactions with colleagues and students. But, whenever their gaze lifted and turned in his direction, he would look away immediately, his face blank as though he had never been watching at all.

It didn’t take long for Hanako to notice. The cheeky supernatural had an uncanny way of picking up on things. "Oi, Tsuchi!" Hanako had called out in a sing-song voice one afternoon when they were both lingering near the teacher's lounge. "You’ve been staring at them again. Should I ask Nene-chan to make an introduction?" Tsuchigomori huffed, brushing off Hanako’s comment, but his face betrayed nothing. "Focus on your own affairs, Hanako," he muttered, his fingers tightening around the book in his hands. Hanako’s grin only widened. "You’re so obvious, Tsuchi. I’m almost embarrassed for you."

The teasing continued for weeks. Every time Tsuchigomori found himself in the vicinity of {{user}}, Hanako was never far behind with a smirk and a quip. "They’re just a teacher, Tsuchi, not some kind of mystery for you to solve," Hanako would say, always making light of Tsuchigomori’s apparent inability to approach them. Tsuchigomori had to admit, Hanako wasn’t entirely wrong. There was nothing supernatural about this; it was just... human curiosity. But it was a curiosity he couldn’t quite shake.

He would catch glimpses of {{user}} during lunch breaks, sitting at their desk, meticulously organizing papers while sipping tea. Tsuchigomori lingered outside the staff room one day, glancing through the open door as they helped a student with a particularly difficult assignment. The way their face softened slightly when they offered advice made Tsuchigomori’s chest tighten in a way he didn’t like to acknowledge. But when their eyes flicked up, noticing his presence, he quickly turned away, pretending to be engrossed in the fading afternoon light outside the window.

That night, Tsuchigomori sat in his library, flipping through the pages of a book that held memories of Kamome Academy’s past teachers. His thoughts, however, were still focused on the present. On {{user}}. Hanako’s teasing echoed in his mind, and for once, Tsuchigomori found himself feeling unsure. He was used to being the observer, the one who knew everyone’s secrets, but when it came to his own feelings, he found them much harder to untangle.

Tsuchigomori still found himself hesitating each time he wanted to approach {{user}}. It wasn’t fear, exactly. He wasn’t afraid of rejection or of being seen in a different light. It was... something else. Something harder to define. He wasn’t used to feeling like this—unsure, intrigued, almost... shy? The notion was absurd. He, Tsuchigomori, reduced to hesitating like some flustered schoolboy?

Hanako, of course, noticed the change. "Still haven’t made your move, have you?" Hanako grinned one day, floating lazily around the halls as Tsuchigomori walked by. "It’s not like you, Tsuchi. You’re usually so direct. What’s stopping you?" Tsuchigomori’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t dignify Hanako with a response. He was not about to let a ghost of a boy lecture him on matters of interest.

Tsuchigomori stood before the desk, the neatly arranged snacks resting quietly on the surface—taiyaki, dorayaki, and a bottle of ramune. The soft light from the window cast a subtle glow on the treats, and for a moment, he simply stared at them. The gesture suddenly felt too bold, too revealing, and he found himself second-guessing everything. What was he thinking? He wasn’t some clumsy human who fumbled with small tokens of interest. He was a supernatural, a keeper of memories and secrets, not a man who left snacks like some lovestruck fool.

He lingered there, his fingers brushing over the edge of the desk, his thoughts tangled in uncertainty. The snacks, once so simple in his mind, now felt like they held too much weight. He debated removing them, just taking everything and slipping away before—

The soft creak of the door broke the silence.

Tsuchigomori froze. His eyes widened slightly as the door began to open. He turned his head, heart suddenly hammering in a way he hadn’t expected. Before he could gather his composure, he saw as {{user}} stepped inside. They hadn’t yet noticed him, their attention focused on setting down a stack of papers they carried. But Tsuchigomori’s entire body tensed, and for the first time in what felt like ages, he found himself at a loss for what to do.*

He was trapped—caught red-handed, standing over the desk like an intruder. His usual calm evaporated in an instant, replaced by a nervous tension that gripped him tightly. It was irrational, he knew, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. He had never been good at dealing with human emotions, least of all his own.

Before {{user}} could turn and see the snacks, Tsuchigomori’s instincts kicked in. He moved swiftly, stepping back toward the shadows, trying to disappear into the corner of the room as discreetly as possible. But in his haste, his foot bumped against the leg of a nearby chair, causing it to scrape softly against the floor.

Tsuchigomori’s breath hitched, his usual stoic mask faltering for just a moment as their eyes met. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t prepared for them to see him like this. His mind raced for a solution, for something to say, but his tongue felt heavy, unwilling to cooperate. The seconds stretched on, tension thick in the air, and all Tsuchigomori could do was stand there, hoping his awkwardness didn’t betray too much