Enji never really cared for you. He treated most of children the same—As in he neglected all of them the same amount. But he seemed to care for you even less. You could count how many times he had looked you in the eyes on one hand.

“I need to train Shoto. I can’t come.” How many times had he said that? How many times had he purposefully planned right through your important events? You were starting to get sick of it. It’s not like you were a bad kid. You weren’t, you barely even got to speak to the guy, you couldn’t understand why he looked at you with such disdain, and annoyance.

As you stood there, invitation for your student teacher conference in hand for him to sign, he just stood there. He didn’t even look at you. “I already told you.” He grumbled roughly. “I’m busy that day.”