Chapter Text
The moment Watanuki left the bathroom he knew he fucked up.
He dashed into the kitchen, stumbled over his school bag, and almost knocked a flowerpot off the table. Hissing and cursing himself, Watanuki grabbed the pan's handle and switched off the stove. It was too late though. The caramelised onion was far beyond saving, burned and dry. The stench was unbearable, his best frying pan was charred, all hope was lost.
At least, he turned off the chicken before going to shower.
Swearing under his breath, Watanuki cleaned up the onion disaster and opened the balcony door. He took a big breath of crisp morning air and instantly started to shiver. Getting out into early February with wet hair was a bad idea. And as if morning was not miserable enough, he heard a low, irritating voice from the neighbouring balcony, “I guess idiots really don’t get colds”.
Doumeki was watching him, expressionless as always, sniffing the foul aromas from Watanuki’s apartment. Since tact was a completely foreign concept for him, he had the audacity to frown and threw a quick look at the still opened door to his room. Just as Doumeki drew breath to say something, Watanuki, glad to find a perfect outlet for his rage, started shouting.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Yes, I know, I’ve burnt onions. Yes, my room now smells horribly, just as yours now, you unbelievable idiot, which is completely your own fault! Why in the world did you leave your balcony door open when it’s freezing outside? What, that…”
“There was…” Doumeki started, but Watanuki was not stopping.
“... dense head of yours needs more ventilation for a thinking process to occur? Or maybe, a mirror has got so offended by the sight of your morning face, it kicked you out? Or was it…”
“I’ve heard crashing sounds,” Doumeki interrupted him, slightly raising voice.
Stumbling upon another insult, Watanuki stopped. He really hated to feel chastised by the arrogant git, of all people, but it was kind of called for this time.
“It wasn't a crushing sound, I fell over my bag and all the contents spilled” Watanuki said, several tones down his usual loudness, and still couldn’t hold back the last blow. “It’s nothing bad, rather stupid of you to assume otherwise.”
At first, Doumeki’s frown relaxed in what looked like a relief. But that changed into pursed lips almost immediately and he turned sharply to his room. Just before leaving, he looked back to Watanuki.
“Get inside or you’ll be the first dimwit in the world to catch pneumonia.”
And he left, before Watanuki could bite back. Still angry, cold, and now slightly guilty, Watanuki leaned on the door and banged the back of his head against it. Not to hurt himself, just to make a point.
Outside, students of Horitsuba Academy were already heading to lessons, wrapped in scarves and hiding their hands in pockets. One couple was walking closely, warming each other and giggling. Watanuki watched them until they turned round the corner.
It was stupid and rude, Watanuki knew that. He was hot-headed, not dumb. And most probably, he will have to grow up and out of this impulsive and bad-tempered behaviour. Eventually. For sure.
But there was something in that jerk that just grinded on Watanuki’s nerves, making him an unhinged, red-faced, shouting mess. And, perhaps, high school years were the last moments when he could allow himself those childish, emotional outbursts. Maybe, it wasn’t so bad to indulge in them while he still could?
Sighing, Watanuki went back to his room, leaving the balcony door open. He still had lunch to finish. And more importantly, a headmistress to feed.
***
It was a bit of a strange story – how he ended up in a high school of the Horitsuba Academy. Then again, most of the stories in his life could be considered a bit strange. Others were mind-numbingly bizarre or freakishly grotesque, so Watanuki carefully collected those in the “a bit strange” category to prove that his life was quite normal.
Because Watanuki Kimihiro was pretty normal in most ways that mattered. He was polite and respectful, at least when it mattered. He was calm and reserved – when it mattered, obviously. And he desperately tried to blend in, always.
There were some… things that set him apart from other Japanese teens. To ignore them, by the age of sixteen he mastered the fine art of denial. So what if he was allowed to live alone since fourteen, though he has never filled any emancipation papers. System is complicated, mistakes can happen. So what if his eyes were unusually blue and slightly foreign-looking. Maybe, there was some European great grandmother or Chinese cousin twice removed in his perfectly normal Japanese family. So what if he could see ghosts, spirits, and other supernatural stuff. Maybe other people could see them too, but were too scared or proud to admit it.
Watanuki Kimihiro was not that proud. Though he was very, very scared. He knew for sure that spirits and ghosts had some special interest in him. A bit of a gastronomical one.
So when he received an invitation to some fancy boarding Academy that provided all kinds of protection, he decided to risk it. Apparently, there was some scholarship for talented orphans. The Academy provided free education, dormitories, and even some living expenses, if said talented orphan agreed to hone their talents and give back some favours to the Academy. Sounded terribly sketchy, though Watanuki rather liked the possibility of saving some of his inheritance money.
Academy turned out to be a whole freaking city in the outskirts of Tokyo. Watanuki contemplated asking a security guard at the entrance why there was no Horitsuba campus (town, city, megapolis?) on any map, but decided against it. If those guards did provide all kinds of protection, Watanuki could close his eyes on any cult-government-experimental-lab bullshit going on around. Watanuki Kimihiro was particularly good at closing his eyes on what he considered abnormal.
There were all levels of schools on campus, along with dormitories, admin buildings, labs (he was right about labs!), cinema, traditional and European restaurants, fast food diner, stadium and ice rink, water park with a Ferris wheel, SPA and beauty salon, a shopping street, a planetarium with a huge ass telescope, and a creepy old mansion on a hill.
Everything was so idyllic it screamed about some murderous cult conspiracies or government’s experiments on kids. But there was one even stranger thing about that place. Watanuki hasn't seen a single transparent corpse hanging from a tree, nor a grabby ghost hand dragging children under the ground.
It was unnerving.
He enrolled the very next day.
In the end, it wasn’t that bad. The scholarship and amenities on campus covered almost every need Watanuki could think of. The special talent he chose to present was his “intuitive grasp of culinary arts, honed by years of dedicated training”. Sounded pretentious and vain, but Watanuki wanted to make sure he qualified for scholarship. And it wasn’t like he was lying: Watanuki did intuitively know the exact quantities of ingredients to make a really tasty dish. It wasn’t anything supernatural or, heavens forbid, magic. He just noticed little things - smells, textures, reactions - and catalogued them meticulously in his head. It was quite obvious, if people actually paid attention to the details.
Filling some forms provided by two weird receptionists, Watanuki was left to wait for his interview with the headmistress. It wasn’t clear if she was overlooking the whole place or just high school. The receptionists actually omitted the “head-” part and mentioned her as simply “mistress”. Watanuki imagined that someone called “mistress” should have been either a strict old woman in an impeccably modest kimono, or a completely different type of a woman from those videos that were definitely not saved in any folders on his hard drive.
In retrospect, he could have never predicted Yuuko Ichihara. No one could, Watanuki was sure that the human mind has special limits for that purpose only. Just to be safe.
In retrospect, Watanuki would call the day he met Yuuko as the best and the worst one in his life. Many people used this phrase loosely, for a literary exaggeration, but unlike them, Watanuki sometimes had a rather grim feeling of certainty. Like when he knew he wouldn’t like umeboshi before ever trying it. Or when he spontaneously switched the line right before a man fell under the train on his usual route.
Just like umeboshi, Yuuko-san was a bit of an acquired taste. And just like that another example, she left a very particular impression on people. Watanuki would have described it as a giant red flag with a big “run, you idiot” text on it.
He did not run though, when she welcomed him in her office. If someone asked, he would say that his feet were moving against his will, that he was pulled there by a mysterious force. Deep down, he knew that this was the same mysterious force that makes you walk into the dark forest or an abandoned house. But when one tries so hard to stay out of trouble, to ignore anything out of place, he has to start by ignoring his own curiosity.
Twenty minutes later, leaving the office, Watanuki wondered what force made him agree to all demands of the headmistress. He thought he was to join a culinary club or be assigned with a part-time job in the school cafeteria. Yet somehow, he agreed not to participate in any club activities, to co-host a radio programme on campus, to cook for the headmistress personally and join her for every Friday night dinner. And call her Yuuko-san, exclusively.
His “Yuuko-san” was a stupid, unexplained slip – she just was so different from any sensei he knew. But the headmistress immediately ran with it, grinning as if she caught him doing something inappropriate. Watanuki was mortified, and Yuuko Ichihara enjoyed having people mortified, apparently.
He left the admin building with an unhappy perspective of spending the next three years with a narcissistic and sadistic headmistress. A month later, Watanuki would kick very painfully and very willingly anyone who had the audacity, or rather stupidity, to call Yuuko-san wicked or even selfish. He wouldn’t need to, obviously, the world was already cruel to people without self-preservation instincts.
Watanuki went to their first joint dinner wound up and ready to drop out if she would start to bully him or make him do anything he didn't want to do. After the second meeting, he started to look forward to the next Friday evening. After the fourth, he started to plan menus on Mondays and write down things he wanted to discuss with her.
Yuuko-san was indeed a bit twisted and surely dangerous. But unlike other forces in his life, she was never dangerous to Watanuki himself. And after some time, he started to admire her deep understanding of people’s nature and desires. Yuuko-san always knew what to say and when to do it. It allowed her to be as ridiculous and shallow-looking as she wanted, without any fear of losing people’s respect. Or their fear, for that matter.
Watanuki would rather never speak again than admit it, but he was a bit envious of a freedom like that. And he would rather die than admit that he envied Yuuko’s power over people as well. That didn’t feel like a good or moral thing to wish for, so he didn’t. He really didn’t. Like he never found her unapologetic and self-indulgent behaviour endearing. Watanuki refused to think too hard about it. Instead, he always prepared a secret extra dessert or a snack for her. Just in case she would ask.
***
After packing his own lunch along with a meal for Yuuko-san, Watanuki dashed out of the dorm building. The Morning Onion Disaster has left him little time to spare for his own breakfast, but he could manage with a simple toast. Contrary to people’s opinion about him, Watanuki was not a keen early riser and usually fought with drowsiness till noon. Unfortunately, caring for himself without adult supervision was much busier work than most of his classmates thought, so good days started at six. Bad days also started at six, but ended just a couple hours before the alarm clock. He wasn’t complaining, no, but gods know what he would gladly give up for a luxury to sleep in on a whim. Maybe, the next life will have mercy for him?
As for now, firmly stuck in current incarnation, Watanuki was stuffing a toast in his mouth on the go. He made it just in time to burst into the recording room during the first announcement bell. He frantically chewed the last bits of bread, waved to a smiling Sakura-chan across the sound table, and took a big gulp of air to start his morning radio routine.
“Good morning, everyone! This is your daily greeting from Horitsuba Private Academy and I am your host Watanuki Kimihiro! Hello to the Early Childhood division, Elementary School D, Junior High D, High School, University, Graduate School, staff and family members, to all of you, who make our huge, complete city of ten thousand people! Study hard, enjoy your day, visit restaurants, cafes, cinema, parks and everything that our beautiful campus offers you!
In a minute, my lovely colleague Sakura-chan will read your song requests, and as for now, let’s start another peaceful day at Horitsuba Academy!”