Regardless of the muzak version of Talent for Love the management piped into the cafeteria, the black-haired boy found the stillness comforting. The cool breeze that circulated the sterile room was relaxing as it trickled through his short spiky hair, and the utter absence of women fawning over him was a delightful change; deep down, he knew from experience that he couldn't enjoy his life without the girls nearby, but every so often he needed that few second repose.

The glass doors burst open, a gust of wind blasting the trays off the tables nearest to the portal, and a skinny boy in a tweed suit exploded into the cafeteria. He immediately dove under the nearest table, holding his breath as a group of teenage girls ran past the door, their excited cries muffled by the thick doors as they closed with a soft clink. After they passed, he slowly inched his way out, ever watchful, and it wasn't until he was certain they had passed that he fully extracted himself from the alcove. He rose, dusted himself off, and froze upon realizing he'd just climbed out from under a table full of women in short skirts. Their crimson faces expressed boundless embarrassment and shame, and as they launched into a garbled assault the color drained from his already fair skin.

The black-haired observer chuckled as the boy flailed his arms excitedly, trying to explain his actions and dissuade the girls from violence. The few words that the observer could make out were spoken in a thick British accent, and as he began to launch into a series of slightly miss-phrased Japanese apologies the red-haired boy's foreign origins became obviously clear. After several tense minutes of frenzied request for forgiveness and apprehensive bows, the girls finally dismissed him with irritated waves, and the now exhausted boy shuffled his way across the cafeteria, flopping into one of the narrow chairs, his wooden staff bashing against a nearby table loud enough to make him jump.

"You sure seem to have a way with the girls," the black-haired observer said bemusedly, causing the red-haired boy to jump a second time.

Upon realizing he had just thrown himself into a chair across from a complete stranger, the boy's hands flew up in defense. "Oh goodness, I'm so sorry, I wasn't even paying attention." He pushed his spectacles further up on his nose, "I mean, honto ni sumimasen, go-."

The speaker was cut off as his company chuckled, "your Japanese is very good, but I speak English and you seem to need a break more than I do."

The red-haired boy rubbed the back of his head, chagrinned. "Thank you." He jumped up, thrusting his hand forward, "I'm so sorry, where are my manners? I'm Negi Springfield."

"Tenchi Masaki," the observer said, gripping the offered hand and firmly shaking it. "You seem to have quite a woman situation."

Negi chuckled again, "now that you mention it, I guess I do." His face became serious, "the girls can be quite a handful, and it seems no matter how many times I try, they all keep looking at me like I'm a cute little puppy."

Tenchi chuckled knowingly, "I completely sympathize, although you should be proud of yourself; not every ten year old could net quite so many girlfriends, especially ones so obviously older than you. That's quite a feat."

The young boy blushed furiously, "they're not my girlfriends, they're my students!"

Tenchi's eyes widened in response, "you're a teacher at ten years old, that's amazing!"

"Well you see, I'm a wiz-" Negi's face paled as he stumbled for words, "a wiz . . . a wiz . . . a wiz . . . at English, yes, that's it. I'm a whiz at English! I have a bachelor's degree in teaching it!"

Tenchi sat back, "that's impressive. And here I thought that having a bunch of alien girls clamoring for my attention was bad."

"Alien . . . girls?" Negi asked confusedly, slipping a crumpled bag lunch out of his sizeable backpack. Tenchi noted the amount of supplies, and the Jurai-reminiscent staff, but said nothing. "You mean to say that you have girls chasing you that are . . . aliens? Do they have green skin and tentacles."

The joke snapped Tenchi out of his trance, and the pair shared a laugh. "They look human, like perfectly normal, pretty, human girls."

"So, are you attracted to any of them?" Negi crooked an eyebrow, and Tenchi blushed furiously in response.

"N-no!" He said too quickly, "how about you, is there any of your students that you're attracted to?" Negi blushed equally red, staring at his sandwich for a long time, thankful for the mutually awkward silence.

"It's funny, really," Negi said quietly, staring at the sandwich Chizuru had made him. "I've always led a fairly unremarkable life, circumstances not withstanding, but all of a sudden I find myself at the mercy of these hyperactive girls. It's funny, but . . ."

"You can't imagine a time without them in your life." Tenchi finished Negi's thought, drawing a solemn nod from the young teacher. "They've turned your life upside down, completely obliterating any sense of normalcy you ever had; but as hard as you try, you can't stay mad at them. You love them."

The last statement hung in the air for an impossibly long time. "You speak from personal experience," Negi murmured, eyes searching Tenchi's.

"Yeah," Tenchi smiled warmly, "I can't seem to remember a time when I haven't been thankful for their friendships." He rolled his eyes, "sometimes they can be a little . . ."

"Overbearing?" Negi suggested, smiling wryly.

"Hyperactive."

"Exacerbating."

"Insane."

"Absolutely insane."

"Girls are dumb!" Negi raised his sandwich in a mock toast, and Tenchi raised his soda can in agreement.

Negi took a bite of his sandwich, almost spitting it out as he saw his watch, "oh my goodness, I'm going to be late for class." He began to hurriedly put his lunch away, "do you live around here, perhaps we could meet again after my classes are done?"

"Actually, I live in Kurashiki, my family tends a Shinto shrine there." Negi bowed his head in disappointment, "but, I got this flier for a party on campus tonight. Something about celebrating two-hundred hits on a Deviant Art site, whatever that is." Are you going?"

Negi cocked his head, "I wasn't planning on it, but if you are," he smiled, "I suppose I could make it; although I can't promise one, or all, of my students won't follow me."

"I can't promise one or all of my housemates won't follow me either," Tenchi said as he rose, "so I guess we're even."

"Great!" Negi grinned happily, extending his hand, "I look forward to seeing you there, Tenchi."

"Likewise, Negi-sensei," Tenchi chuckled and shook his hand, "I'll see you later tonight. Don't be late to class, I'd hate to have you miss the party because you had detention."

"Right, see you later." Negi rushed out of the cafeteria, blasting through the doors in a manner similar to his previous entry. As Tenchi cleaned up his trash and headed to the exit, he was thrown onto his back as Negi exploded back through the cafeteria doors, blasting the bigger boy over with a hurricane gust of wind. "I just got it! Me, get detention for being late to class. That's really funny!" He grinned in embarrassment as he helped Tenchi off of the floor, "I should go. I wouldn't want to be late, someone might give me a detention for not having a hall pass."

"Or running in the halls," The two boys laughed again. Negi waved as he ran toward the Mahora Academy building, and after returning the wave, Tenchi started his own journey toward his apartment. He'd been enjoying the time spent in Tokyo, not to mention the peace and quiet, but all he could think about for the moment was how much he missed his friends.