#worried ive come across as uncaring and standoffish

[epicqtefail]

oh no. really terrible animatic idea. im gonna have to do it.

[thehuggamugcafe]

The Charlatan: Transfer Student IV

OOC: Holy hell. Am I in a mood today! Big Barista mood today indeed!

Do enjoy part 4, my dear customers! Cheers to each and every one of you marvellous people! ☕

Part 3 is here. https://thehuggamugcafe.tumblr.com/post/179489187227/the-charlatan-transfer-student-iii

Your (e/c) irises eyeballed the long-nosed, grinning man as his wide, bloodshot eyes stared at you in quiet contemplation, silently valuing your worth as though you were an antique he hadn’t seen before, and he was a master appraiser. Your fingers found the long and cold bars of the cell you resided in, wrapping around the icy steel as a simpering snicker came from the warden standing on your left.

When you glanced at him, you couldn’t help but notice several key differences between him and his carbon copy standing on your right. The other warden’s eye was cold and indifferent whenever his stare honed on you, and the other warden’s eye sparked with warmth and interest. The smirk that pulled at his lips twitched, threatening to widen as your eyes met his one-eyed leer.

“Ah... So Sleeping Beauty finally awakens, and not to kisses?” he asked, more to himself than to you.

The frizzy-haired warden breathed a laugh, chuckling as he caught the soft hum of irritation that tickled the back of your throat. You stared at him as he lost the smirk, staring at you as his obsidian eye shone with open interest in you, acting—and looking—serious enough to fit the situation.

“The ‘you’ in reality is currently fast asleep; you are only experiencing this as a dream, my dear prisoner.”

“Your posture is horrible. You are in the presence of our master, so straighten your back, Inmate.”

You glanced at the noiret, onyx-eyed warden standing on your right, watching as he tapped a thin, but decidedly deadly-looking baton in the palm of his gloved hand. His left eye stared at you critically, narrowing to an icy slit of gray and white, watching you as your eyes strayed back on the grinning man.

“Welcome. I am delighted to make your acquaintance. This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. It is a room that only those who are bound by a “contract” may enter. I am Igor, the master of this place. Remember it well.”

The man tapped his glove-covered fingers on the wooden desk he sat in front of, one thin, bony-looking leg crossed on a knee as he sat in a cushioned chair, wide, bloodshot eyes ogling you as he spoke.

“I summoned you here to speak of important matters. It involves your life as well.”

Swallowing, you cast a glance around what little of this space you could successfully glean with your vision. Across from you, around you, on your left and on your right, you saw cramped cells that mirrored the one you resided in. You watched as shackles lazily swung back and forth from the mantles that were bolted into the padded walls they hung from, making a faint metallic noise that sent chills up and down your spine. You saw empty food trays. You saw empty beds, the lumpy mattresses not holding any sleeping bodies. You saw cell doors that were flung open, unlike the door belonging to your personal cell.

Even if you could escape from this hellish place, you doubted you could break yourself free from the padded cell that surrounded you. The lock was quite sturdy, the chains that interwove across each other on the cell looked durable, hefty enough so that you didn’t have a prayer in Hell to so much as dent them.

The cold steel shackles on your wrists reminded you of the cell you had briefly owned in reality, and the bitter irony of leaving one cell and winding up in another wasn’t lost on you. The shackle that adorned your ankle, constantly reminding you of its chilling presence each time you shifted your feet, each time you took a baby step—however, the iron ball that connected your left ankle to it ensured that your mobility remained as it was: limited.

Forced confinement. Isolation. No freedom. Stern glares. Coy, flirtatious looks. Drawling hums of interest. Orders being hissed to you, and like it or not, you were expected to follow them to the letter, or risk facing severe punishment. Eyes constantly watching you. Eyes always quietly judging your worth, what little value you may have at the moment.

This strange place was no different than the juvenile hall you had been in reality for a short time.

If there was indeed a place called Hell, you were certain that was where you were in the present.

Anxiety threatened to overpower you, and you felt a cold sweat beginning to break out across your forehead. A few icy droplets trickled down your cheeks, causing a few strands of hair to stick to your worried, high-strung expression. (E/c) irises nervously glanced around, looking for a way out, an escape route out of the odd place you found yourself residing in. Frustrated, the apprehension piquing, your fingers gripped the cold steel bars as your jaw became set, as you narrowed your eyes and breathed a long, drawling growl.

“Dammit! Let me out of here!” you seethed, gripping and tugging at the steel bars as you spoke.

A chilling one-eyed stare was the only forewarning you received before an arm was swung back and forward, slamming the baton into the bars of your cell. Gloved fingers gripped the thin weapon, electricity crackled along and around the thin weapon. The noise the weapon made as it struck your cell created a ear-ringing clang, the sound echoing for a few moments.

You breathed a gasp as your hands left the cell bars, jumping back as though a jolt of electricity had coursed through the cold steel rods. Your nervous, on-edge visage met the stern, no-nonsense glare of the frizzy-haired warden.

You recognized the action for what it was. You recognized the stare the other, more standoffish warden gave you as he kept his cold one-eyed glare on you. It was a warning. A warning for you to acknowledge the position you were in. A warning for you not to toe or cross the invisible line, the invisible line that had been drawn in the sand for you.

Keep your head down.

Smile and nod.

Be obedient.

Do as you’re told.

Abide by the rules and you’ll scrape by unharmed.

It was nothing new; it had been your day-to-day routine before and during your stint in juvie, but especially after your brief stay in jail.

“Hold your tongue, Inmate. Be mindful of what you say to our master, do you understand?”

The warden didn’t shout at you, and he didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. What he did and said to you was enough of a warning as it was.

The other warden voiced a few teasing “tsk’s,” raising a hand and crooking a leather-covered index finger back and forth, slowly, the smirk pulling at his lips as he did so.

“Now, now... You’d best behave yourself, my dear jailbird. I’d hate to have to punish you for misbehaving.”

The other, more warmhearted warden finished his statement off with a simpering chuckle.

“Still, this is a surprise...”

Igor’s wide, bloodshot eyes stared at his surroundings, the wide grin eternally stretching his lips apart.

“The state of this room reflects the state of your own heart. To think a prison would appear as such.”

Soft, shaky breaths left you as you slowly walked forwards, hands reaching for the cell bars, which your fingers gently held.

“You truly are a “prisoner” of fate. There is no doubt that in the future, ruin awaits you.”

“...Ruin?”

You quietly took notice of how much your voice shook as you uttered that single word.

It certainly sounded ominous, but especially so whenever you spoke it.

“I speak of the end of everything. However, you have no need to worry; there is a means to avoid such a fate. You must be “rehabilitated.” Rehabilitated toward freedom. That is your only means to avoid ruin... Do you have the resolve to challenge the distortion of the world?”

You fell silent, your (h/c) bangs brushing against your cheeks as you bowed your head, lost in your thoughts.

Rehabilitation... Ruin... I don’t get what this old geezer’s saying, but...

“Please, help!”

“You little bitch... I’ll sue!”

“Years, years, of hard work, gone, wasted! Because of you!”

“Tch... Daddy’s little girl... You can’t do anything wrong in his eyes, can you? You little bitch!”

“Sister, it’ll be okay. I’m here for you!”

“Just behave yourself and don’t get into any trouble. A year will go by before you know it, and then you’ll be able to come home, honey.”

“Oh, and you heard what I said, didn’t you? Cause me any grief, and I’ll toss you out onto the streets like the troublemaker you are. Got it?”

Several voices, several faces popped into your mind. The face of the woman you saved. The glaring eyes of the man as he spat threats of suing you. Your parents’ faces. Your sister’s. Your brother’s. Hell, even Sojiro’s face came to mind.

The majority of their expressions were cold, uncaring, their eyes showing either disapproval, disappointment, a sneering haughtiness, but the few that didn’t quietly express his or her dislike of you were kind, worried for your well-being.

If there’s a chance I can... I can fix things, maybe get back at the shitty society somehow... I’m all in!

(E/c) irises glinted with determination, burning with resolve as you raised your head, staring long and hard at the wide-eyed, grinning elderly man.

“Oh?” Igor drawled lazily, breathing a deep chuckle. He seemed to be amused at the look you gave him...

“Yes, I do,” you said, polishing off your statement with a sure-fire nod.

For the first time in weeks, in months, you felt confident of what you had decided upon.

“I mean I...”

You faltered, the boost of self-confidence ebbing away no sooner had it come to you.

“I’d rather avoid ruin, if it’s possible to do so.”

Igor voiced another throaty laugh, raising his hands and bringing them together once, twice in a clap.

“Ah, I’m glad to hear it. Now... Allow me to observe the path of your rehabilitation...”

The wide-eyed, grinning man paused as the two warden moved as one. They turned around, stepped forward, their backs straight as they stared at you through the cold steel bars of your cell.

“Ah, pardon me for not introducing the others. To your right is Ren; to your left, Akira. They serve as wardens here.”

“What’s that defiant look for, Inmate? Would you like your freedom to be restricted further than it already is?”

Ren’s stone-cold stare bore right into you, cutting deep like the glinting blade of a knife.

Meanwhile, Akira’s warm laugh slowly soothed you, the smirk switching for a smile.

“Now, now... Be nice to the prisoner, Ren. It’s her first time visiting us, after all.”

Akira’s joking undertone earned him a bored askance from Ren, the former smirking as his twin shook his head.

“As wardens, it is our duty to ensure that your safety is guaranteed; we are also your collaborators, should the need arise. Of course,” Akira paused, his right eye twinkling with merriment as he laughed, “so long as you behave yourself, that is.”

“I shall explain the roles of these two at another occasion.”

Akira and Ren pivoted on their heels, their one-eyed stares pointed at their master, Igor, as he talked.

“Now then, it seems the night is waning. It is almost time... Take your time to slowly come to understand this place. We will surely meet again, eventually.”

The grinning man raised a gloved hand, and you glanced up and around as a blaring alarm rang shrilly.

“Your business is done here.”

You glanced at Ren, watching him as he spoke, turning back around, stepping forward with his hands folded behind his back. Your eyes fell on the baton the frizzy-haired warden held, causing a chill to run down your spine.

“Hurry up and go back to sleep already.”

“Sweet dreams, my lovely detainee.”

“W-Wait a minute...! I still have questions!”

Your voice echoed as you shot forward, fingers gripping the bars with a renewed vigour, but it was pointless. You felt a dizzying spell of exhaustion creeping up on you, and you slowly released your iron-clad grip on the cold cell bars, slumping to your knees as your eyes grew heavy.

You passed out before you hit the icy floor of your confinement cell, but the last thing you saw...

Ren’s coolly collected stare and Akira’s soft smile stared back at you.

“W-Wait!” you gasped as your eyes flew open, shooting up in bed.

You glanced around, your shivering gaze taking in the familiar sight of dust floating in the air. As surprising as it was, seeing the cobwebs, the plastic sheets, the old books, and feeling a gentle spring breeze wafting in through the attic window comforted you.

It was a relief to be back in your attic room once again, and the spring breeze that cooled your sweating face was a welcomed relief. You breathed a sigh as you sat up in bed, your nightshirt and pyjama pants rubbing against your warm skin as the (f/c) sleeping bag was tossed off of you. Despite your sluggish demeanour, your body wailing in protest whenever you moved, thoughts ran through your mind as you got dressed for your first-time visit to Shujin Academy.

What a strange dream that was... Ruin... Rehabilitation... That old man... Those twin wardens... Maybe the transfer to the big city was a bigger shock than I thought it was...?

You breathed a second sigh as you buttoned the black blazer, pulling (f/c) leggings over your thighs, and shrugging your sock-covered feet into the black dress shoes.

Yeah, that... That has to be it. What else would it be?

You spared a glance down at your wrists, pursing your lips as you brushed your fingers over the skin.

I can still feel those damn shackles on my skin...

The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs pulled you from your musings, and your gaze met Sojiro’s. All in all, the only differences between his barista outfit and what he wore at the moment were a two-button blazer, and a white trilby with a red-white-and-blue striped hat band. The pale pink shirt, the pale rolled-up khakis, the white leather belt, and the white loafers remained.

“Looks like you’re up. Well, let’s go introduce ourselves properly to the staff about your transfer. The school you’ll be attending is in the Aoyama district. It costs you a bit to ride the train there, and the route transfers are a pain. I’ll drive you there, but just for today. Let’s go.”  

You nodded as you got up off of the bed. The lumpy mattress shifted, and the (f/c) sleeping bag rustled as you moved. However, when you followed Sojiro down the attic steps, you heard him mutter to himself.

“Sheesh... Women your age aren’t usually allowed in my passenger seat.”

Your eyes stared up at the prestigious Shujin Academy, (e/c) irises shimmering with intrigue. It was a hell of a lot more impressive in person. You figured that your old school back home could fit twice, three times into a college-prep school the size of Shujin Academy easily!

I guess they don’t call Tokyo the big city for nothing.

You were pulled back to reality with an all too familiar, stern-sounding “hey” from Sojiro. You blinked your eyes—framed by (f/c)-coloured glasses—once, and tilted your head, silently telling him that he had your full attention.

“Do me a favour and behave yourself, all right? Don’t get me wrong—I don’t care what happens to you. Just don’t cause me any trouble.”

“...Yes, sir,” you replied softly, nodding once.

“Let’s go.”

You breathed a silent sigh, nodding as you followed him up the steps of the labyrinth-style school. Your eyes glanced around as you took in the sight of spotless windows, the wooden floor that shone with a mirror polish, the trophy cases that boasted of students’ accomplishments, both past and present. Everything in the school was clean, almost unbearably so.

How does anyone find their way without getting lost? It’s like a maze!

It was sooner than you would have liked, but you felt the nostalgic sense of being judged, of being leered at with distrust—but by the principal this time. You bit back several choice titles as he watched you, as you watched his several chins wobbling as his mouth moved, his thick brows pinching the slant of his narrow eyes as he talked.

“To reiterate, just so we’re clear, you’ll be immediately expelled if you cause any problems. Honestly, I hesitated on accepting someone like you, but there were some circumstances on our side...”

The sound of a pen clattering as it was set back on the principal’s desk was clear. Sojiro had finished signing the small stack of forms. Clearing his throat, the pot-bellied man continued speaking.

“You may have done a variety of things in hiding in your hometown, but you will behave yourself here. If you are thrown out from our school, there will be no place for you to go. Keep that in mind.”

Turning to the brunette standing beside him, he nodded.

“This is the teacher in charge of your class.”

“I’m Sadayo Kawakami. Here’s your student ID.”

She set a red ID holder on the desk, and you reached forward, taking it and stuffing it in one of the front pockets of your blazer.

“Be sure to read the school rules. Any violations will send you straight to the guidance office. And, if by chance you cause any problems, I won’t be able to protect you at all.”

Turning to the bald head of the school, she asked, “That is your promise, yes, Principal Kobayakawa?”

“Mm-hm. She is responsible for all her actions.”

Kawakami’s face fell as she folded her arms across her chest. She didn’t look or sound pleased.

“But really though, why me...? There should’ve been better candidates.”

I’m standing right here, you know.

“It was a sudden transfer, and your class was the only one that had an opening. Besides,” he paused, sparing you a quick glance before looking back at the drowsy-eyed teacher.

“Wouldn’t you feel more at ease having a transfer student in your class? A female transfer student at that—she shouldn’t be too much of a handful for you, Ms. Kawakami.”

Kawakami sighed, raising a hand and scratching at her head. “I hope not...”

“If you’re done explaining things, mind if we get going? I got a store to get back to.”

“Mr. Sakura, please keep a close eye on her... Don’t let her cause any trouble outside.”

It took everything you had not to narrow your eyes, not to let a particularly snarky comment roll off of your tongue.

“I’ll be sure to have a serious talk about the situation she’s in.”

“Come to the faculty office when you arrive at school tomorrow. I’ll show you to your classroom.”

You nodded, pausing to bow respectfully before leaving the principal’s office with Sojiro. It wasn’t until you two were halfway to the school entrance that he stopped, breathing a sigh as he scratched at his balding head of black hair.

“They’re treating you like some kinda nuisance... I guess that what it means to have a criminal record.”

Turning on you, he continued, “Turns out your past follows you wherever you go.”

Sojiro paused, his brows pinching the slant of his eyes as his gray irises coldly leered at you.

“By the way, if you get expelled now, I won’t hesitate to kick you out. Got it?”

“I’ll be careful, Mr. Sakura.”

You polished your statement off by toying with a stray bang of (h/l) (h/c) hair.

“Hmph.”

He didn’t look convinced, breathing a sigh before he softly muttered, “School never changes, huh?”

“Come on, we’re going home.”

You said nothing, opting to remain silent as you followed him out of the school, and to where Sojiro had parked his car.