(A/N): Is that you Totty? *looking at screenshot*

Disclaimer: Still don't.

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Your POV

A wild band of gruff looking boys pushed you out the school entrance, with an extremely overfilled black trash bag, tied into the usual bunny-ears at the top in your arms as you struggle to keep a hold of it, trying not to accidentally rip the fragile plastic as you balanced yourself on your feet. Right now it was cleaning time, which meant that the actual learning part of school was technically over, but the cleaning was done by the students before they were officially sent home.

Apparently the kid who usually did trash duty was sick today, so of course the responsibility was pinned on you. What can you say? Blame it on bad luck? Or maybe blame it on the fact that the school didn't have enough funds to apparently hire at least a few janitors.

Whatever it was, the trash wasn't going to incinerate itself, so you started your way to the back of the school. Those jerks a couple of minutes ago should've at least pushed you out the back entrance to make your job easier. The sticky trash sloshing around in the limited useless black plastic wasn't making your job more pleasant. You now definitely needed a shower after this.

You easily guided yourself to the back, depending on muscle memory with the trash blocking your point of view and all. This part of the school was the most despised and the most avoided area, with the occasional delinquents hanging around this mess of an incinerator.

The incinerator itself was old, old as the school itself as it stood there, standing in a dusty and rusty mess. It was sturdy for a heap of metal, and you were sure you can die by jumping in, making the mistake of it being some fancy dumpster and just dived in, burning to the ash shooting out from the pipe above, mixed in with the blue sky.

Who wouldn't be nervous near this monster of a murderer?

Let's get this over with...

Your arms were tired from carrying the heavy bag from so long, so you were surprised from the huge relief as you set the bag to the side for now. The loss of strain on your muscles didn't stop though as you struggled to pull up the small iron door open, the door rusty from the lack of attention.

"Errr!" You pathetically tried to get the darn thing open, only to lose your grip from the small sliver of sweat forming on the palms of your hands, not used to this kind of exercise, if you can even call it that.

Going to the extreme, you carefully climbed to the top of the incinerator and crouched down, in the best position you can be as you once again held the handle bar.

"Okay, on the count of three, pull up..." You mentally prepared yourself as you gripped the cool iron handle bar.

"One..." You quietly mouthed out.

"Two..." Groaning, you just realized how much trouble you're going through to open a door. Maybe you should go to the gym and get a bit of muscle for the next time you need to open an incinerator door. Or maybe saying 'open sesame' will work?

"Three!" Too late. You shouted out the last number of your count as you pulled straight up, your muscle, if you had any, screamed for you to stop.

*Cliiink!*

Panting, you stopped from the satisfying rustle of the door finally moving up, budging perfectly to a space that the bag can fit through.

You wanted to cry and celebrate at the same time, but a small tabby cat casually strolled down, starting to paw at the trash bag. A tear was made, making you panic as the bag started to awkwardly deform.

"Oh no! Shoo, kitty! I can't have it ripped!" You were afraid that the small sharp claws that the cat had were going to ruin the bag, so you tried to quickly shoo the cat away.

"It's going to start collapsing..." Sighing depressingly, you managed to keep the bag as steady as possible, little to no trash pouring out the bag as you finally threw the bag in the incinerator.

"Finally..." You pressed the ON button as the the incinerator started it's handy work, burning the trash as ash started to fume from the pipe above. You crinkled your nose from the stench. Hot garbage certainly wasn't a pleasant stench to be around.

"Ahem, you're in my spot..." A gruff voice called out, making you flinch. You swear, if it was one of the senior guys who forced you to do this job...

You darted your eyes back, only to freeze more to see Ichimatsu staring at you, hands in his hoodie pockets.

"What do you mean 'spot'?" You inquired, now embarrassed to think that Ichimatsu was one of those guys. What was even more embarrassing was the fact that you smell like trash. Lovely.

"This is where I sit." Ichimatsu sighed as he leans against the dirty brick walls of the grand school, waiting for you to get out.

"Over here?" You replied, in disbelief as you stepped out of his way.

"Where else would trash be?" Ichimatsu adds, almost as if it's obvious as he sits down in his so-called 'spot'.

"Trash? You trash?" Now even more confused, you just stood there, unsure if you should leave him at all.

"You're looking at it right now. A pile of useless, horrible, unburnable trash that has no will to live." Ichimatsu blinks at you, seeing if you get the gist.

"..." Wow. This is new. You didn't know that he hated himself.

"Thought so." Ichimatsu victoriously leans back, silent as the cat from earlier approaches him. You should've been asking yourself why there's so many cats recently, but you felt bad for yelling at the cat earlier.

"Do you know his name?"

"Her name." Ichimatsu corrected as he gently scratches the cat behind it's ear, the cat purring happily from his experienced petting. So cute.

"I don't know her name. She's just an abandoned cat..." Ichimatsu grumbles, spouting curses about those who even dare to abandon a cat.

You awkwardly tilted your head, curious as to how Ichimatsu got so isolated from society. Maybe it relates to his infatuation of cats.

"How's your cat?" Ichimatsu suddenly pops a question out of nowhere, making you glad, even if he only cared for the well-being of your cat.

"[P/N]? It's doing fine now, thank you. Though she's not home yet..." You closed your eyes, wondering where the hell your cat is now. This is why you need to train it.

"Don't you know? I've been taking care of it for a while now. It's a shame I couldn't keep it." Ichimatsu sighed depressingly, clearly upset.

"You have!? Is that why it's still full and clean when it comes back home?" Surprisingly enough, Ichimatsu shuts his mouth for that question, chewing on his bottom lip as he looks a bit uncomfortable. Maybe he realized he reached his limit of words.

Changing the topic, you started with a question. "...So when do we start tutoring? At your house or my h-"

"I'm not getting tutored by you." Ichimatsu cuts you off as you blink. Does he have a habit of cutting people off? He sure did enjoy it when he did it with Karamatsu.

"But your brothers-"

"Are idiots. I only agreed in front of Jyushimatsu. I don't want to waste my time with tutoring. What's the point?" Ichimatsu pulls his knees up to his chest, ending the conversation there.

"...I'll see you tomorrow." With that, you bid him goodbye, even if he looked away from your face. You sighed as you headed home, the bell for students to head home long past rung.

You seriously needed a shower.

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(A/N): I've been in a good mood this week. I mean, two chapters in two days? I even want to write a MYSMES one-shot and begging for requests. And here's a video for no reason.

                                                                                                               10/24/16