Chapter Text
The ringing of the bell signaled the end of the school day. Without wasting a single second the students began to gather their things amid laughter and shouts.
Crocodile waited until the last one of them had left to close the door and take a seat again behind his desk. He rested his elbows on the hard surface and rubbed his face tiredly, massaging his temples afterwards.
Just one week into the school year and he couldn't stand those kids anymore. Always so loud and disrespectful. Sometimes that class resembled a jungle more than a group of students, but not even animals would be this insufferable.
It was just his first week as a teacher in this high school, and regret had been present in his mind every single minute. Maybe he shouldn't have left his old workplace; the salary was considerably lower, but the students weren't this disrespectful.
Or perhaps he choose the wrong profession. During his childhood he was really interested in reptiles. Working in a terrarium didn't sound that bad, surrounded by silent scaly animals. Emphasis on "silent".
To make matters worse, the day wasn't over for him yet. A faculty meeting kept him apart from his so desired resting time. He could already taste the glass of whisky he was going to pour himself as soon as he got home. Crocodile pictured himself drinking it without any hurry, savoring every sip, without knowing if the bitter flavor on his tongue belonged to the drink or to the regret he felt for all the decisions he had made in his life.
After checking the hour he took a deep breath and headed for the classroom designated for the meeting. Another concern pierced his brain as he went down the hallway: that creepy Spanish teacher, Mr. Donquixote Doflamingo. Crocodile wasn't completely sure, and maybe he was being a little paranoid, but that guy had been staring at him the whole week every time he passed by. They hadn't even had a proper conversation yet, then why? Where did this fixation come from? Have they met before somewhere?
If they did Crocodile didn't remember. And forgetting someone so flamboyant, so painfully pink, was somehow difficult, in his humble opinion. But it was hard to tell. He had met a handful of people during his college years, so failing to remember someone he once got to know at a nightclub was a possibility.
Whatever it was, he hoped that guy wouldn't dare to seat next to him. For God's sake, if that nightmarish flamingo decided to approach him before the meeting trying to make small talk again it would be the last straw.
Luckily, when Crocodile arrived to the room an empty seat awaited him far away from the said man. Yet he couldn't help but take a discreet look from across the room, but he wasn't as cautious as he thought.
Doflamingo looked at him through his sunglasses and offered him a sinister smirk that felt like a provocation. He didn't want to give in to whatever this little game of his was, but looking away didn't feel like an option.
Seconds passed and it felt like hours. Crocodile was getting tired, but he wouldn't let him win. When did it became a competition anyway?
"It seems that everybody is already here." Principal Shanks arrived interrupting their silly staring contest. "I would like to begin today's session by officially welcoming our new Economics teacher, Mr. Crocodile, into our team. We are pleased to have you with us."
The whole room gazed towards the man. Crocodile nodded, acknowledging the well-intended gesture, but lamenting all the unwanted attention it brought towards him.
The session continued as planned. Nothing especially important was discussed. At least not in Crocodile's eyes, but he didn't really pay much attention either…
"So, before we finish, I would like to make... an announcement in regards to the condition of this building," Shanks stated.
"Are you, by any chance, referring to the leaks in the ceiling of my classroom?" Doflamingo asked, grinning rather sarcastically.
"Not only in your classroom but in all of the west wing," the principal corrected, intentionally ignoring the taunting tone Doflamingo used. "The situation is no longer safe for our students or any staff member, so we contacted a company to take care of the repairs." Shanks paused for a second, as if he expected someone to interrupt him. When nothing happened he continued the explanation. "They will begin the renovation work during the last week of the month. As entry to that area won't be permitted for at least two weeks some of you may need to share classroom during that time."
The room remained surprisingly silence. Displeased expressions could be spotted on almost everyone's face, but apparently nobody dared to say a thing in Shank's presence. It was clear why he had decided to make this announcement at the end of the meeting.
"A document with the schedules and class placements for those weeks has been sent to your email addresses. I ask you all to take a look at it during the weekend so you can report all the changes to your students next Monday," the principal concluded.
When the meeting finished the mood in the classroom switched completely. While some of the teachers left immediately, several of them stayed there talking, laughing. Even the principal had joined them.
Crocodile recognized a severe expression among the group. Mr. Dracule Mihawk was the Physical Education teacher and coach of the basketball team. They met years ago during a teacher's convention, and have kept in touch ever since. In fact, it was thanks to Mihawk that Crocodile got this job, as he was the one who recommended him when Shanks announced there was a vacancy for an Economics teacher.
An intrusive thought crossed Crocodile's mind, but he dismissed right away. He could have easily slipped in their group under the pretext of greeting Mihawk, but no, socializing wasn't among his plans for today. He wasn't in the mood for it. Besides, Doflamingo was there too, and he didn't want to give the man an excuse to talk to him.
Crocodile picked up his briefcase and left the room. He had gathered all his things earlier so he could leave as soon as possible. He left the building with some sort of emptiness inside his chest, but a gust of cold wind distracted him from it. Thank god he decided to take his coat that morning.
A decision he wasn't much grateful for was walking instead of taking the car that morning, because now he would had to walk back home. His feet were hurting so much and he was so tired that he hated his past self, but he resignedly began his way. A fifteen minutes walk awaited him, as well as a lot of time with himself to think about…things.
He recalled the whole day, deliberately choosing to ignore the last half, but the final announcement of the meeting sneaked into his mind. Was he really going to be so unlucky as to have to share the desk and cabinets in his classroom with some freak he didn't know?
Or worst, what if he had to share his classroom with him? The mere thought of it gave him the creeps.
Right now the only company he would appreciate was his good old friend the bottle of whiskey. Whiskey. He needed whiskey.
That's why once Crocodile had arrived to his apartment, he put his coat away and poured himself a glass of the amber drink. Now he was ready to discover if he would have to add another item to the list of things that kept him up at night.
Crocodile turned on his laptop, searched through his most recent emails and downloaded the document he needed. He opened the file, not really knowing if he wanted to read its content. After examining it for a few seconds he found his name written next to his classroom's number, and…
…oh, fuck.