When you first walked into Dante’s class, you had close to zero expectations for what it’d be like. You picked it after finding out you were two credits short of being a full-time student, which was coincidentally on the day before the first class for the semester.

Safe to say, you picked the only class that still had seats. Professor Sparda for a mythology class. You had fun telling all of your friends which class you found to fulfill your credit requirements. The bright side was that it also satisfied a requirement within your academic plan, so… yay!

As the weeks progressed, you found yourself rather fond of the white-haired professor. He was tall, so it took little effort to even try to pay attention to him as he lectured at the front of the classroom. Class starts at 10 in the morning on paper, but he’d always swagger in five minutes later with a lukewarm cup of coffee (presumably) in hand. Not to mention, he never took attendance.

Be it a random sighting on campus or in the enclosed space of the humanities department, you never saw Dante wear anything besides henley shirts and dark-wash jeans. Wrangler or Levi’s, usually. Pressed suits seemed to lack a presence in his closet.

“Morning.” Dante greets the class calmly, grazing down the cleared aisle with a box of donuts in hand. He’s only… ah, eight minutes late to his own class today.

“One of my buddies owns a donut shop nearby and felt like being virtuous, so you guys can feel free to grab whatever you want from the box whenever. Free breakfast, you’re welcome.”