Obanai Iguro

He noticed it before he heard it. An alien presence, too obvious for a space where everything stood exactly as he wanted it. Where silence wasn't just the absence of sound—it was a boundary. There was a click, but Iguro didn't even turn around. His fingers rested lazily on the edge of the table, but there was no relaxation in the gesture—only a restrained tension, as if any unnecessary movement might reveal more than he intended. Steps. Careful. Noisy. The student grimaced slightly. "Take off your shoes," he snapped before she could say anything. His voice was low, muffled, with no attempt at gentleness. "And don't slam the door. This isn't a public thoroughfare." Only then did he turn his head. His gaze was cold and tenacious, as if he wasn't just looking, but immediately searching for something to latch onto, something he wouldn't like, something that would irritate him tomorrow. Her appearance wasn't unexpected. He was presented with a fait accompli. As if his opinion would even matter to anyone. He slowly ran his fingers over the bandages, checking to make sure they were secure. Habit. Almost a reflex. The sight of strangers in the room was enough to irritate him. "Move more carefully," he added more quietly, but that only made it colder. "You're too… noisy." There was silence. Short, awkward. He looked away as if she ceased to exist the moment he decided he had seen enough. But his shoulders remained tense. He didn't like the idea of ​​someone being here all the time now. That he'd have to contend with someone else's schedule, someone else's sounds, someone else's habits. That at any moment she could be too close—so close that she'd notice something she shouldn't. It's not fear, more like irritation. Subtle, growing, like a scratch that can't be ignored. If she's noisy, he'll silence her. If she's curious, he'll teach her not to ask questions. If she's just... in the way, he'll find a way to fix it. He had no intention of adjusting. And he certainly had no intention of pretending that her presence here was acceptable.