Hello, friends. Please enjoy this somewhat self-indulgent grad-school AU. I don't own these characters, but this story is all mine. I have no set upload schedule, but I will try my best to put something up once a month.
Sonoda Ema slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and grabbed her thermos of coffee with a death-grip. It was only the second day of the new semester, but she already knew the life-giving bean juice would be her biggest and warmest crutch as she started her second year of graduate school. She pulled her dusty brown hair into a high ponytail, traced the familiar shape of her jewelry box with her finger before slipping into her shoes. The walk from her apartment to campus lasted only ten minutes, and from the entrance gates to her department building, another three. The route was ingrained in her mind and Ema was confident she could make the trip blindfolded. Her body was on autopilot and her brain only caught up as she sank into the janky rolling chair at her cubicle. She had been thrilled to learn that all grad students in her department had offices, but that excitement quickly wore off the first week of her first year when she took in the shabby sight of sad cubicles, broken chairs, and faint scent of mildew.
Ema yawned and stretched her arms above her head, the shifting of her weight causing her busted chair to lurch backwards eliciting a sharp yelp from her not-yet awake self. It was 8:30 in the morning and she was the first to arrive, thankful that no one was around to hear her embarrassing shriek. She took a long pull of coffee from her thermos and felt its warmth travel all the way down into her stomach. With any luck, she would be fully alive by the time her discussion section started, in little over an hour. At first Ema was disappointed at her assignment as assistant lecturer of World History I, hoping instead to receive a teaching assignment closer to her own research interests, but she knew this class would be a good experience—most history professors had to teach it at some point in their career. She let her mind wander and she pulled books from her bag and put them in their corresponding piles on the shelf above her desk: a fresh crop from the library, organized neatly by period, geography, and author's name. A few of her fellow grad students trickled in into the office, offering a sleepy wave 'hello' before finding their own respective cubicles.
Her class was to be held in one of the new buildings on campus, far from the musty (but historic) humanities quad which her department building occupied. Ema left her office early to give herself extra time to find the unfamiliar classroom. She sighed as the walk led her through the shiny new science buildings, all glass and steel and fresh with big donations from rich alumni. She was only slightly bitter. Having located the correct building, no doubt named after some wealthy donor, Ema refreshed the room assignment on her phone. Classroom 214B was on the second floor, with windows that overlooked a large green space, now filled with students enjoying the sunny weather. Ema logged into the computer that was built-in to the podium at the front of the class, pulling up the presentation she had prepared last night. The students had only had one full lecture, so this discussion section was aimed at answering any remaining questions about the syllabus, expectations, and assigning the first paper. Not that she expected her students to be happy about it. With the computer set up, Ema pulled out a large stack of papers to hand out as students began filing in from the hallway. Their first paper assignment wasn't particularly onerous, but it would challenge them to read the material attentively and rub at least two brain cells together.
"Uh, am I in the wrong class?" One student asked while looking at the assignment, puzzled. "This is organic chemistry, right?" He asked.
"You must be in the wrong room. This is World History I." She answered sympathetically. Campus was rather large and it wasn't uncommon for students to lose their way. She remembered her undergraduate days, nervously flitting from building to building in hopes that she wouldn't miss class.
"No, he's in the right room." Ema's head whipped around to see someone else setting up at her podium. An impossibly tall man with the stupidest looking jet-black bedhead hair was grinning down at her. She returned the favor with a scowl.
"There must be a mistake. Discussion section 2 of World History I is in 214B. Are you perhaps in 214A?" She tried her best to be polite, but his cat-like grin was beginning to piss her off.
"Nope. 214B. Organic Chemistry. This is the science quad, after all." Ema bristled at his arrogance. She dug through her bag to pull out her phone, refreshing the room assignment from the administration's website. She knew she wasn't in the wrong, so why did he seem equally confident, she wondered. Ema loaded and reloaded the webpage, with 214B glaringly remaining assigned to her class. She shoved her phone up to his face, proudly demonstrating proof of her victory.
"This is my classroom. If you'd be so kind as to relocate so we can begin, I'd appreciate it." Her tone was icy and she longingly wished she had gulped down another thermos of coffee that morning. Students were beginning to stare at their little standoff, throwing confused glances around the room. The man pulled his phone out of the pocket of his black trousers and repeated the same motions as Ema. His screen clearly read Organic Chemistry, section 3, 214B. She ground her teeth.
"This is a fun little predicament." The man laughed and ran his rather large hands through his obnoxious hair. Ema wouldn't exactly call the situation they were in 'fun,' rather a headache she didn't need. She turned away from the man to face the students who had filled the classroom, which was now standing-room only due to the combined classes.
"Please raise your hand if you are here for World History I." She stated calmly, watching as twenty or so hands went up.
"And for Orgo?" The man raised his eyebrows as only eight students made themselves known. Ema grinned widely. She had a larger class and therefore, in her opinion, more of a right to occupy 214B.
"I'm sure there are available communal study rooms in the library." She turned back to face the tall man, a look of victory spread across her face. He raised his hands in mock-surrender, before snatching one of the assignment instruction sheets from her hands.
"Hmm...a paper? On day two? That's not very nice, Sonoda-sensei." He scanned over the paper with sharp gold eyes.
"Tch." Ema clicked her teeth. Great, now he knows my name, she groaned internally. Her name, email, and office hours were all printed at the top of the paper for her students' reference. "I'd like to begin, if you don't mind." She extended her arm to the door, hoping he would soon be out of her hair.
"Alright, chemistry people, follow me. There should be an open space in the chem building lounge." As the misplaced students gathered their belongings to leave, the man turned back to Ema. "I'll send an email to campus scheduling. Probably a clerical error." She nodded, slightly taken aback by his sudden shift from playfulness to conciliatory seriousness. He flashed her one more stupid grin before retreating out the classroom door. She huffed and regained her composure as best she could to finally start class.
Two hours later and Ema was back in her tiny but homey cubicle. She was in a foul mood after her run in with the chemistry idiot. There was no way he was a professor, his attitude was far too relaxed. She supposed he was also a graduate student teaching a section. Or was it a lab in the sciences? Ema hoped the issue would be resolved by next week's class. With her exams approaching, she didn't need another headache to manage.
After a third attempt at rereading a paragraph, Ema gave up and placed a small sticky note in her book, closed it, and put it in its respective stack on her shelf. She had skipped lunch, opting to finish (or at least she hoped) dissecting the argument of the book her advisor had recommended. From what she was able to grasp before losing her concentration, it was an interesting argument, but she wasn't convinced it had a good theoretical foundation. At least the sources were worth mining in the footnotes. She looked at the potted venus fly trap that sat to the right of her laptop and made a mental note to catch some flies tomorrow. Her stomach grumbled, another reminder of the lunch she had skipped. The sound of it even attracted the attention of the cubicle next to hers.
"Oi, Sonoda, there's leftover sandwiches in the kitchen from the department meeting. If you hurry there might be some left."
"You're my savior, Suga." Ema rose from her chair and gave him a mock bow, earning some of his bright laughter. She was thankful that Sugawara Koushi was her cubicle-mate. He seemed to know exactly what to say to lift everyone's mood, even during the stresses of exam prep and dissertation defense. She ruffled his soft grey hair and made her way from the basement (where else would you stick the graduate student offices?) to the department kitchen on the third floor. Ema opted for the stairs, taking the chance to stretch her legs. She had a bad habit of sitting in one place for hours on end, often leading to weird muscle strains.
Someone up there must have been looking out for her after all, Ema thought, as she spied the remaining sandwiches scattered on a party platter. She took her time eating, savoring the mediocre taste of the cheapest campus catering. To a grad student, nothing tasted better than free. Stomach happily sated, Ema returned to her basement dwellings, eager to try reading that paragraph one more time.
"Oh, Sonoda, someone came by to see you. A student, I think?" Suga called out to her as she approached their group of desks.
"Huh, I don't have office hours until tomorrow. Weird." She looked at her desk and saw folded sheets of paper. Opening the three-part fold, her face burned red. It was her assignment instruction sheet from earlier, stapled to a sheet of paper with a full essay written on both sides. At the bottom, written in a much larger font, Kuroo Tetsuro. Grade my essay, sensei, followed by what Ema could only presume was his phone number.
Pairs well with: The Trio by Ennio Morricone (yes, from The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly)