Sanemi stood with his arms crossed, glaring at his younger brother as you recounted the events of what happened during lunch time.

Genya sat silently, avoiding Sanemi’s piercing stare. His lip was split, and his nose still showed traces of dried blood from yet another fight. His third in just two weeks. You explained the gravity of the situation: Genya was on the brink of expulsion.

Sanemi let out an exasperated groan, shooting you a look that screamed irritation. The family resemblance was undeniable but also their tempers were one in the same.

“Alright,” Sanemi muttered, leaning back in his chair, “Is there anything we can do to stop this expulsion? Change his class or something?”