Misaki is def another one of my favorite students. I mean the chick has a rocket launcher, not to mention has one of the most beautiful L2Ds out of all the characters I've seen so far (although Kayoko's is right up there with her, honestly its the music that does it for me).

Anyway, here's a Misaki chapter.

Enjoy.


"Sensei, here's the report you asked for."

"Oh, thank you Misaki. Was it hard to find?"

The girl shook her head. "It was right where you said it was."

Sensei smiled taking the flyer from her, setting it down on his desk among the many other reports scattered around.

Misaki took a seat on the couch in the office, tugging on the collar of her sweat shirt. It was so damned hot in here...

Today, Misaki was helping Sensei with his work. Usually she wouldn't want to do such a thing, but Sensei had helped her and Arius Squad out countless times. She knew that if the debt she owed him kept getting higher and higher it would eventually become impossible to pay off. So she asked him, was there anything she could to repay him?

She definitely did not expect to be acting as his secretary for the day.

Sensei noticed her tugging on her sweat shirt. "Sorry, our AC is broken. We'll probably have it fixed until tomorrow."

Misaki sighed, figures. She partly accepted this to take advantage of the AC, as it was a extremely hot day today, and this body of hers wasn't good with the heat...Or the cold...

She pulled her sweat shirt off, careful to not accidentally undo the bandages on her arm, setting it down on the couch next to her. Sensei noticed. "There should be a fan in the supply closet over there, if you want to go grab it." Sensei said, pointing down the hall.

Misaki followed his finger, looking down the hall it was pointing to. She turned back to him. "There's no reason, I'm fine..."

"But-"

"I'm fine, Sensei."

The man remained quiet, before sighing, standing up and going to the supply closet himself. He pulled out the old desk fan, setting it on the corner of his crowded desk and plugged it in. Angling it so the fan hit both of them. Misaki just stared at it. "I said I was fine, Sensei."

"I know, but I'm not." He said, taking off his white suit jacket and hanging it on the back of his chair. He sat back down and resumed his work. Misaki sighed, leaning her head back against the couch and staring up at the ceiling. There was silence between them, only the light humming of the desk fan and Sensei's pen scribbling on the countless reports that littered his desk were the only noises in Sensei's office.

After a while, Sensei asked Misaki for another favor.

"Misaki, could you go back to the archives again and grab an envelope for me?" He asked. The girl nodded, standing up from the now sweaty couch. "What am I looking for?"

"It should have this seal on it" Sensei showed her the seal in question, after memorizing it she went to the back. Rummaging through the bins of papers before finding the envelope with the seal on it. She picked it up and brought it back to Sensei's office.

"Here you are, Sensei." She extended her arm, handing it to him.

"Thank you Misaki" Sensei said, reaching his arm up to take it from her.

That's when she saw it. It was hard to see because of his shirt, but the sleeves had ridden up a bit on his wrist to expose them enough for Misaki to see what was on them.

Scars.

She only saw a few, running horizontally across his wrist, it looked like it continued up his forearm. But she couldn't tell as the sleeve of his dress shirt hid the rest from view.

"Um...Misaki? Can I have the envelope?"

Sensei's voice brought her back and she let go, letting Sensei take the envelope from her.

"S-Sorry..."

"You sure this heat isn't getting to you? Want me to grab you some water?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine." Despite saying that, SCHALE's Sensei stood up and walked to the mini-fridge, grabbing two bottles of water. One for him, and one, of course; for her.

She eventually took the water, albeit after a long while of sweating. The two remained in silence again, it wasn't uncomfortable silence. Well, at least to the famous Sensei it wasn't; to Misaki it was very awkward. She couldn't get the image of those scars out of her head, she knew what they were, knew what caused them, but what she didn't know was WHY they were made.

From the short time she had to see them, she could tell they were old. Faded, but the discolored skin spoke of its age. But how old were they exactly? Could they be from when he first appeared in Kivotos? Or from before?

Thoughts of who Sensei was began to drift through her mind, who was he before he became the Sensei so many students know and love? Was he like her once? Devoid of all care for the world, angry at himself for being weak, indifferent to whatever life had to throw at him.

More importantly, what made him that way? Did someone wrong him? Was there some traumatic event that he couldn't rid his mind of? A haunting that could never seem to go away, something that made him feel numb, and the only way to feel anything at all was through pain. She was all too familiar with it, with everything that Sensei could have gone through. She had scars too, not all of them ran horizontally, but they were embedded in her all the same. Forever a reminder that things couldn't get better.

Did Sensei feel that way too when he saw his scars? He didn't seem to try and cover them up, didn't seem to care about their existence. Unlike her, who drew attention to it with the bandages she wore. She treated her scars like something hideous, she was fully conscious of them. Like parasites she couldn't get rid of, her every moment spent catering to them. They had rights to this body of hers more then she did it felt at times.

But Sensei...His scars are nothing to him, they are just spots on his skin. They're not reminders, not disgusting sights or embarrassing secrets.

His scars... They were part of him physically, and yet... They were not him.

She felt her eyelids growing heavy, all this thinking had tired her out it seems. This damned body, she laid back on the couch and closed her eyes. Her thoughts ever filled with Sensei.


When she awoke, it was late. Although there were no windows in Sensei's office, the dimmed lights told her all she needed to be told about the current time of day. The only bright light was from Sensei's desk, of which Sensei himself was leaning against.

Sleeping.

She stood up from the couch, just now noticing that there was a blanket on her. Sensei must've put it on her when she dozed off; she grit her teeth and approached him, going to shake him awake, but stopped upon seeing his wrist again. The sleeve had ridden back a bit, exposing his scars again. She didn't get a good look last time, and she wanted to see just how much the two had in common.

She gulped and and moved her hands to his long sleeve, undoing the buttons that held it together she loosened it and pulled it back; revealing his forearm and all that scars that littered it.

She counted 8, 8 scars. Some bigger than others, some deeper than others, and one just below his hand, right where his veins are, that she could tell used to be infected. She ran her index finger gently over them, tracing them tenderly, feeling the smooth, hardened skin. She wondered about his other arm, did he have scars on both arms? Like her?

She leaned forward to check his other arm, but upon doing so accidently knocked over a cup holding various pens, it scattered to the floor stirring Sensei awake. Misaki jumped back as Sensei sat up, yawning before noticing her.

"Misaki? You're still here? I figured you'd have gone home by now."

She didn't say anything at first, staring at his arm before looking back to his face. "Why did you put a blanket on me?"

Sensei blinked in surprise a bit. "The temperature suddenly dropped outside during the evening, and I didn't want you to get cold."

"I would've been fine."

"I'm sure you would have, but its my job to take care of you and the others."

The two remained in silence for a bit.

"...Are you taking care of yourself?" Misaki asked, averting her gaze.

Sensei was taken aback by this question. "It's not like you to be worried about me, is something wrong?" He asked. Misaki just sighed, turning her head to meet his gaze again.

"It's nothing, forget about it."

"Is there something bothering you, Misaki?"

"There's a lot bothering me Sensei."

"I mean is there anything bothering you right now?"

Misaki was quiet. She wanted to ask him about his scars, but it was difficult to bring them up.

"For the last time Sensei, I'm fine...And quit worrying about me."

Sensei shook his head, smiling. "Afraid I can't do that, it's my job to-"

"Worry about me and the others, yeah. You already said as much."

Sensei's smile faded. "Misaki..."

"You're such a hypocrite..." She grumbled

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean..."

She sighed, turning her head to look away from him again. "Your scars."

"My sca-" Sensei stopped as he realized what she was talking about, instinctively running his hand up his left forearm, just now noticing that his sleeve had been pulled up. Misaki looked at him out of the corner of her and she saw him...Smiling? It was a slight smile, like he was looking back on an old memory.

"When did you notice them?"

Misaki turned her head back to Sensei. "Earlier, when I handed you that envelope." She said. "You're always telling me to take of myself, but you're suffering yourself aren't you."

Sensei looked at her, still smiling. "Guess me and you aren't so different."

Misaki scoffed at this. "We're nothing alike...I'm disgusted with myself, you seem to have your shit figured out."

"It wasn't easy, I can assure you."

"I don't suppose you're gonna tell all about how to get over it then, aren't you?"

"Not unless you want me to."

Misaki grit her teeth. Damn him! "you tell me to take care of myself but you don't tell me HOW. you were like me, right? With everything just...hurting?"

"Yes, it gets better"

"When!? You have all the answers, don't you? How did you... How did you find the strength to smile... You're telling me to take care of myself but... You're not telling me how you did it... You're not telling me what to do... What's the secret, Sensei... How do I make it stop when everything is too much"

"I'm...Sorry Misaki, there is no secret. I just...Got better."

Misaki clenched her fist, tears welling in her eyes. "Got better!? That's not how this works! There is no getting better for me, there's only me drowning in the ocean!"

"And I'm not going to let that happen!" Sensei snapped back, grabbing her shoulders and catching Misaki off guard. "Saori said the same thing to you on the bridge, and I'm gonna say it to you now. I'm not going to let you do that. I may not be like you anymore, but I've suffered just as much as you have. I know its painful, I know it hurts and you want to make it end but I'm not going to let you do that." Sensei continued, calming his voice now. "I know how easy it is, to just end it. I know how tempting it is, I've tried it so many times."

Misaki's eyes widened at this, he also tried it? Tried to end it all? Then they really were...

"I can't say things will get better for you, but I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that it does. Me, Hiyori, Atusko, and even Saori wherever she is. We'll all be here for you."

Tears began to slide down Misaki's cheeks, and she placed her face on Sensei's shoulder.

"You piss me off so much...You keep being nice to me...How the hell am I supposed to pay you back?" The girl asked

Sensei embraced her gently, pushing her closer to his body. "Just keep living, that's how." He replied. "Even if its painful, I'll be there to take the pain away."

Misaki clenched his shirt at his response, trying to not cry anymore then she already has. The two let silence overtake them, until Misaki calmed down enough to pull away from Sensei's embrace.

"May I see yours?" Sensei asked.

Misaki blinked, she knew what he was talking about of course. But...Did she really want to show such a hideous thing to him?

"I...I don't know..."

"It's fine if you don't want to. I understand."

Misaki thought for a moment, before steeling herself and undoing the bandages on her arms; letting them fall to the floor. Sensei took both her thin, pale wrist in his hands and brought them closer.

She had far more scars then he did, both horizontally and vertically. Not neat and in a row like his were, no these were done violently, almost out of anger. Sensei could just imagine Misaki running a razor over her arm over and over again, tears welling in her eyes but pushing through the pain regardless, blood everywhere. He could just see Saori panicking upon discovering Misaki laying motionless in a bathtub, her arms stained a bright crimson red.

Sensei brought one her wrist closer to his face, and planted a gentle kiss on the scars.

"S-Sensei!? What are you doing?!" Misaki blushed and squirmed, trying to get her arm free.

"You know, you really do have a beautiful body. I hate that you do this to yourself."

Misaki stopped, averting her gaze; trying to hide her blush. "That's...Not true..."

He shook his head gently, giving her the softest of smiles as he pressed his lips once more to her skin. Her breath hitched at his tenderness, her heart beating at the sadness in his eyes. There was a distance to his gaze, Sensei looking at her skin with a tiredness that she was all too familiar with…

He saw her.

Not just her scars.

He saw her struggle…the things that she deemed as ugly reminders of her cowardice, he looked to them with heartbreak. It was not pity, no…it was sympathy.

It was understanding.

He peppered her wrist with affectionate acceptance, no disgust at all in the act. It was just kissing…and yet, it was so much more than that. There was an intimacy here, one that gave Misaki a warmth foreign to the students of Arius. He cared for her.

And he proved it.

Again and again, he lay loving affection to the places of herself she abused so harshly, the places she deemed acceptable for her hatred.

Of herself.

Of life.

He gave that dark place upon her some light, some warmth.

And she didn't know how to feel about it.

How to feel about it…other than pain.

She sucked her teeth suddenly as she pulled her arm back, a stinging at her arm causing her freak out. Her eyes shot wide open as she realized what had happened.

The last time she…

Yes, the last time she added to her count, it was…two days ago.

The wound had closed, yes, but still, the place upon her flesh that she cut was sore and tender. Even for as careful Sensei was being as he kissed her arm, it was still enough to surprise her…

No, maybe it would be more apt to say that it was only enough to surprise her.

It wasn't all that bad a pain that she received. More over, it was the shock.

She looked to him, her eyes unable to focus, Misaki breathing hard as she looked this way and that, anywhere, nowhere, it didn't matter where, she just couldn't look at him, couldn't meet his gaze.

He was worried. She knew he was worried.

But right now…she didn't know! It felt like the walls were closing in, the once giant and open Schale Office seeming claustraphobic, the walls closing in.

Her heart beat rapidly as everything became slightly darker, her chest hurting as the thunderous pounding within threatened to burst through her ribcage.

Why?

WHY?

Why was this happening now?

They weren't stuck in some elevator, and yet…she was suffocating. There was no air in this godforsaken room and as Misaki held herself tightly, her entire body trembling as she focused on the ground, on her shoes, as blackness seeped into the corners of her vision...it reared its ugly head.

The truth of this world.

Even in a moment of solace, she could not escape reality. For as gentle as he was, for as good and warm that Sensei could make her feel…there still existed pain. It might not have been enough, no, and yet…it scared her all the same.

How long had she been running? How long had she tried to avoid pain, tried to look away and close her ears to the hurt that occupied this world? She had tried many times before…to leave this place…and had thought about it even more than that. She need only look at her skin to find the tally.

"-ki! Misaki!"

Sensei's voice cut through the gloom that had enveloped her, his words seeping through the daze, drawing her back into the moment once again. It was like she had been underwater, his shouting for her seeming so far away, so obstructed…then, all at once, a torrent of consiousness struck her, as if she had just awoken from a nightmare.

"Misaki!"

How long have his hands been there?

His hands held her shoulders, Sensei shaking her slightly, trying to call her back out of whatever dark recess she receded to within her mind.

Misaki panted, trying her hardest to catch her breath, to calm herself down.

She…was now sitting on the couch.

That's weird, when had…

She looked up, seeing Sensei stand before her, a worried expression on his features as he pushed her back into the cushion. He was…laying her down?

They were just over there at his desk and now…they were here. What happened? It was as if she lost time, her mind having checked out. She turned her face, it pale and covered in a cold sweat, finally able to look him in the eyes.

That fearful expression…isn't very like you, Sensei.

He pulled the blanket up once more to cover her but as he did…she noticed it again. Her hand shot out, grabbing at his arm before he could turn away from her. Her sudden action caught him off guard but Sensei was patient.

He opened him mouth to say something, to ask if she needed something, but he never got that far. Misaki tugged him forward, bringing his own wrist to her lips, just as he did a moment ago. For as tired and ragged as she seemed, for as out of it she might have been, the act was natural, Misaki holding his hand, her fingers rubbing against his as she shut her eyes closed.

She kissed down his forearms, drawing across each of the long faded lines of his younger self's stupidity, accepting each and every line of his, just as he did. Each kiss was lovingly placed, such weight behind each press of her soft lips.

She made it to his wrist and, finding herself out of forearm to adorn, nuzzled her cheek into his hand, her own on the outside, holding him to her face.

Her lips remained slightly parted, Misaki's breathing calmed considerably from the panic attack she had earlier, her eyes seeming glazed over as she looked up to him.

"Sen…sei…"

She hadn't needed to ask.

He leant down, meeting her lips with his.

At first, it was chaste, the two simply making contact with the other. Then..they began to move, each growing active, slow at first before things became deeper. Lips parted, tongues were introduced, and as they descended further into feelings of happiness, Misaki held onto him tightly, afraid that if they stopped the pain and cold would creep back in.

She tugged at his shirt, not signaling for him to take it off but instead to get closer. The couch was small for the both of them, but they made it work, Sensei atop her as they made out, his own hands finding purchase at her body.

Misaki clenched her eyes shut, feeling them grow wet with tears of happiness as Sensei didn't reject her.

And so, when he pulled away, she began to panic once more. She looked to him pleadingly, the Misaki beneath him far more vulnerable than the girl he once knew. But, then again, so was he…they had both opened up to the other…but, if they were going to doo this, they were going to do it right.

Slowly, he descended once more. She pushed up to meet him, to throw herself back into the kiss and the pleasure, but when he refused to open for her tongue, she felt desperate.

That is…until he began to move south. A kiss at her lips was just the beginning as Sensei moved first to her cheek, and then her jaw.

By the time she realized what he was doing, Sensei was at her neck, kissing a line down to her collar. Misaki wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel good with him, but she was instead spoiled by his affections. Still, she accepted them nevertheless.

Her hand made its way to his head, Misaki grabbing hold tightly of his hair, pressing him into her, as if begging him to kiss her harder. She moaned at it, at him, and as he was just about to reach down to her collarbone, just before he ran out of room and would need to gain access to go any further, he stopped.

His hand came up to her neck, causing her to flinch.

But Misaki trusted him.

She calmed easily enough, her own hand joining his own laying over his as if to see what he was doing.

He fiddled with the bandage she wore there too…

His thumb ran across it, as if caressing it. She looked to him, but he…he looked at her neck, a concern at what might lay underneath it written clear on his face.

Her much slimmer fingers nudged his aside, and, with little trouble, Misaki undid them, exposing herself to him.

She worried about it…about how he may react.

But as he kiss her neck and the scar that resided there as well, Misaki felt a shock run through her body, an electricity that did not so much hurt as it did excite her.

She hummed out, the bandage falling to the floor as the two indulged in each others' comfort.


Shout out to my friend T.S. Atlas who was a huge help with this. I kept hitting so many walls and he kept offering me so much advice, and even wrote the ending for me because I knew he was far better at writing smut then I was.

Until next time.