Life Starts at Forty

"Goodbye, professor, see you next week!"

Professor Mutou Yami's graduate students bade him goodbye as they exited the classroom. Most of them were over 25, and they weren't as difficult to handle as undergraduate students fresh from high school or from a break from studying. He watched them go and waved back at them with a smile. "Your papers are due the week after next week!" he called out to them as a reminder.

At age 43, Mutou Yami, a PhD graduate (his degree had something to do with management and finance) teaching at Domino University, was completely happy teaching undergraduate and graduate students, being surrounded by young men and women, and being single. There was nothing wrong with it, though his coworkers and colleagues kept setting him up with handsome men and gorgeous women he simply didn't like. His friends were saying things like, 'Your hair is graying!' or 'You're not young anymore!' or even, 'You won't have someone to take care of you!' with puns intended on the last one.

It's not like he hadn't had sex before or anything. He'd had a fling with a woman when he was in his early twenties, and a serious boyfriend a few months after that fling, and another boy who tried to sweep him off his feet but ran off with some other person he didn't even bother to find out. That was just about it, though he seriously enjoyed his sex with the boyfriend. But ever since he'd started his graduate and doctoral studies, he'd stopped with the partying and considered a career in teaching, and a sideline of being a consultant for strategic management for big companies.

Yami took a deep breath as he packed up his things from his three hour lecture. He put a hand on the bottom right side of his neck and turned his neck a few times counter clockwise while pressing on the muscle there to relieve some stress. He sighed, and sat down on the teacher's chair, looking at his pile of work on the desk.

"Happy 43rd birthday, Yami," he whispered to himself as he went back to packing his things.

It was indeed Yami's 43rd birthday. His face had wrinkles, of course, especially under his eyes and the lines on either side of his mouth. The colour of his hair was fading. He had brilliantly coloured hair when he was young, and most would wonder how he got it. The once crimson tips of his hair was turning into a slightly darker shade of pink, the main part that was once black, was fading into gray, and his lightning shaped, once blonde bangs could easily be passed off as white. And indeed, Yami was getting older.

As soon as he stepped out of the classroom, his co-workers were there in the corridor, standing, smiling and waiting for him, along with some students who knew him well, with a cake and lit candles shaped like his age.

"TANJOUBI OMEDETOU, MUTOU-KYOUJU!" (1) they said in unison.

Yami's eyes welled up with tears, and couldn't even muster any words other than "Thank you," as he blew the candles out. "Why? I mean, you went through the trouble," he chuckled as he wiped his tears.

"Of course. Why would we forget the best teacher ever?" said one of the students.

That led to about an hour of cake eating and happy conversation. It was about five in the afternoon when they (his colleagues and students) went back to their own world of studying and teaching. He on the other hand, decided to go home. He made his way to the car park, and predicted that it'd rain soon since the sky was cloudy, though he hoped it wouldn't rain.

His suitcase and books flew into the air and landed with a loud thud on the ground when his phone buzzed and vibrated noisily with an incoming call. Startled, he quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket, and answered it.

"Y-yes?" he croaked out. "Oh, yes. I'll be there tonight, thank you. No, I haven't eaten yet—yes, of course. Thank you. Good evening," he ended the call and sighed.

Yami decided to open his car first, then shoved all his things into the back seat while collecting all the scattered papers he was supposed to grade that Friday night. But then suddenly, that call earlier, was from the company he sidelined in. He was being summoned to one of their meetings, and this time, the president and CEO himself was going to be there. Yami took a deep breath in the driver's seat before starting the car. "I guess no hot chocolate and ice cream tonight then," he drove out of the parking lot, headed to the hotel he was told to go to.

Before he went up to the hotel entrance, Yami fixed up his papers and put them in a neat ream in his bag. He left his car to be valet parked, and asked the front desk where a meeting was being held by Kaiba Corporation. He was escorted to one of the penthouse rooms, and then was given a key to another room where he was supposed to stay in for the night. The hotelier told him the people who were included in the meeting. Yami thanked the hotelier with a bow, and knocked on the door.

The door opened. "THERE'S THE MAN OF THE HOUR!" shouted one of them, holding up a glass of champagne.

"I beg your pardon?" said Yami, confused. But then another one of them pulled him in the room and gave him a glass. "What's going on?"

"What's going on?" the one who had him by the shoulders repeated. "What's going on? Didn't anyone tell you?"

"All of the proposals we submitted—"

"—the one where you headed us—"

"—the chief strategist—"

"—he approved of it ALL!"

Yami was speechless. "He approved it all?"

"Yes! He said we'll get to work on it immediately! He even tried one, the one we proposed for the purchasing department, and said it worked like a charm!"

"The company's stronger than ever!"

"He hasn't met you yet, so he arranged this meeting to meet you!"

"Seriously though, Mutou. You've got to take this job seriously,"

"You're just here for part time! Take it in full!"

They made room for him on the couch. Yami was still in shock that everything he'd written down on that paper, together with some work with his colleagues, all got approved. And by the chief strategist…the CEO!

"Are you okay?"

Yami hadn't even touched his glass of champagne. "Oh, yes. I'm just still very much in shock," he looked around. His colleagues were…so young. And he…had just had cake for his 43rd birthday that afternoon.

A toast was made to Yami, for the hard work he'd done leading the strategic team. Yami liked it that it was for work and not his birthday. But still, he was thankful that he'd gotten to 43.

The chattering continued, and his colleagues ordered room service, saying that the chief strategist told them to do everything they wanted. Yami didn't drink much, though, but did eat a lot of the steak they ordered. He was hungry, and that cake earlier that day wasn't much of a stomach filler.

"I'd better go to my room," said Yami when the clock neared nine in the evening. "I still have a lot to do,"

"What? This early?"

Most of his colleagues were already half drunk, but he had no intention of getting drunk with all the papers he had to read and grade.

"Shachou (2) isn't here yet!"

"Just wait another hour!"

"I'd rather not," said Yami apologetically, "I'll try to meet him some other time," he left the penthouse and went a few floors down to his own room.

Yami wasn't the type who drank. He was confident in the classroom, teaching the children everything he knew by heart, and treated them how he would've wanted his teachers to treat him back then. Out of the classroom, he was easily startled, embarrassed, and was very shy. Probably the reasons why he didn't go looking for another person to have a relationship with. He was happier with work, with teaching. It would have put a serious strain on a relationship if he had one.

The door beeped when Yami slid the card/key on the doorknob like a credit card, signaling him that the door was open and he was free to enter. The room was amazing, as expected. The hotel he was at was one of the most expensive and one of the highest rated. Their CEO didn't like anything but the best. He was the rich, spoiled type of young man.

The room was spacious, with a king sized bed and about four to five white, fluffy pillows at the header and a warm, smooth, thick, white blanket. On either side of the bed were bedside drawers with lamps, and under one of the lampshades were pieces of writing paper and a pen for notes and a telephone. There was a desk opposite the bed and hung up above it was a mirror. Beside the desk was a flatscreen TV, and a little to the left of the TV was a mini living room. The small living room was decorated with a big window overlooking the city. The bathroom was by the main door and there was a mini bar opposite the bathroom door.

He put his suitcase on the desk after taking off his suit jacket, and plopped down on the nice smelling, newly laundered sheets. He curled up on the bed, resting his eyes for a moment, then got back up a few minutes later to get started on grading his students' papers. He pulled up the chair and sat down, rummaging his case for the undergraduates' papers, for they were easier to check, and he liked how kids had a lot of (or none of) enthusiasm for managing a firm. He grabbed his red pen and started reading as he decided he'd stop checking them at midnight.

About an hour and twenty papers later, someone rang his doorbell. He looked at the clock, and it was nearly ten in the evening. Nevertheless, he stood up and opened the door without even bothering to look at who it was from the peephole. "Yes?"

"You're Mutou, right?"

There was a young man about the age of 25 standing right in front of the professor. He was, maybe, six foot tall, and had chestnut brown hair and bright blue eyes. He wore the sharpest suit Yami had ever seen, and he was a bit embarrassed showing up at the door with ruffled clothes and messy hair.

"Y-yes," answered Yami. He had no idea who this person was at all, and how he came to know his name. "May I help you?" he asked.

The man raised a brow. "I'm Kaiba Seto,"

With round eyes and an open mouth, Yami opened his door wider and let the man in. "I-I'm sorry, Shachou, I didn't know. Please come in," he bowed as he held the door open for him. For their chief strategist. For their director.

"Thank you," Kaiba went in, examining the room.

Yami closed the door behind him. "Would you like some tea? Or coffee? There are sodas in the mini bar—"

"So you're a teacher?" said Kaiba, looking through the papers marked in red scattered all over the desk.

"A professor. At Domino University," said Yami, moving over to his boss.

"What do you teach?" Kaiba pocketed his hands and looked at the person a few feet shorter than him.

"Organizational and strategic management for the undergraduates—"

"So that's why you're good." Kaiba cut him off again. "You're a teacher, and you've applied for a job that makes use everything you know,"

What was it with this guy and interrupting people when talking? "Thank you," Yami smiled and bowed. "Well, yes. I really needed the extra income—"

"Will you leave your paperwork just for tonight if I ask you to join me for coffee or desserts?" asked Kaiba. His gaze was fixed on his employee, 18 years his senior.

Coffee? Desserts? Did this man, his boss, want to discuss business at this time of night? "Yes, of course. I'd love to, sir," Yami smiled.

After three cups of tea, two slices of blueberry cheesecake later and almost two hours later, Yami found himself in his boss' presidential suite, laughing, and very obviously enjoying the brunette's company more than his colleagues at school. He had never laughed so much in a while.

Kaiba, too, was enjoying Yami's company, and smiled as he watched Yami regain his breath. Kaiba looked at his wristwatch. It was nearly midnight.

"Ah, yes, before I forget," said Kaiba, as he reached for a bag hidden from Yami's sight by a chair near him. "Happy birthday," he handed it to Yami.

"For me?" Yami slowly took the bag, and saw a beautifully wrapped box inside. "Thank you. How did you know?"

"I had to look you up on the company database of all employees, and you're there even if you're a part-timer slash consultant only." He said, "Go on, open it. I saw your page and found out it was your birthday today, so I went and got a little something for you,"

Yami hesitantly opened it, hoping it wasn't a joke. He ripped the wrapper off the box, and discovered a black cashmere top coat. It still had a tag. Burberry. "Burberry!" he exclaimed. "This is…this is too expensive!" Yami stared at the coat, then at Kaiba. He was horrified at the invisible price tag. "Are you sure you want to give this to me?"

Of course, a coat like that wasn't even a penny to Kaiba Corporation's director. "Yes. Why wouldn't I be?" Kaiba smiled.

"Thank you. Thank you very much!" Yami smiled.

"Try it on," said Kaiba.

"Okay," Yami nodded, and set aside the bag and the torn wrapping paper and put on the coat. It fit wonderfully. "It's beautiful, thank you!" it was warm. He would definitely wear this on the way to work.

"You're welcome," Kaiba stood up and went up to Yami. "I would like to ask you something,"

"Yes?"

There was a pause. "Yami," he addressed him with his given name. "Will you go out with me?"

Yami stared at him, almost petrified. Did he hear right? "I'm sorry?" he said, confused. "Go out? Go out with me?" he didn't know what else to say. "H-how can you want to go out with someone almost 20 years older than you?"

Five months later.

"Professor," Yami's secretary called his attention one afternoon. "There's someone outside for you." She said.

"A student?" asked Yami, setting aside the papers and folders on his desk into a ream.

"No, I don't think he's a student," said the secretary.

"Alright," Yami stood up and headed outside the college of business office.

"Yami," called the guest, walking up to him. From head to feet he was dressed in expensive clothes. "Are you done for the day?" he asked.

"Seto? What are you doing here?" said Yami, "You're not supposed to be here!" he whispered urgently.

"I don't think you've got a lot of classes. It's the summer holidays," said Seto.

Students taking summer classes were whispering and smiling behind Seto, and Yami could see them. "Congratulations, Professor!" they said, waving at him. "Good catch!"

"Shush, you," Yami told them, but they kept on giggling and whispering behind them. "You're going to get them spread rumours!"

"Well, they are true," Seto grinned at him.

Yami sighed. "You are hopeless. I'm getting my coat. You better have a good excuse for getting me out of checking students' homework," he said and went back inside the office. He came back out in the same coat he'd gotten from Seto a few months ago for his birthday. He'd taken a liking to it, and washed it every week to make sure he'd be able to wear it the next.

"I'll get you a new coat," said Seto as they walked out of the university.

"What? No! I've found out how one of these cost, and I will not let you spend two hundred sixty thousand yen on a simple coat!" said Yami in a lecturing voice. "Save your money up for old age!"

"Like you?"

SLAP!

"OW!" Seto had a hand on the cheek Yami had hit.

"Go away. I'm going back to work," Yami had already turned around, headed back to his office.

"I'm sorry!" Seto ran after him. "I was only joking—I'm sorry, please?" he grabbed Yami's hand and made him look at him. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

Yami took his hand back. "Fine." Seto smiled. Yami grabbed his tie and pulled him down. "You owe me make-up sex." Yami whispered and walked back towards the university gate.

"Really?" Seto said excitedly, jogging to catch up with him.

The professor got in the car that was waiting for them outside the gates and Seto slid in next to him. The car moved and they were on their way. "Where are we going, by the way?" asked Yami.

"I got you something," Seto took out a box from his coat pocket.

"This better not be anything more than my one month's salary," Yami eyed him.

Seto opened the navy blue box, and revealed a watch. "I thought it'd look nice on you," Seto smiled as he put it on Yami's left wrist. "There. It looks great on you,"

Yami looked at the time. His brows met. "Why the hell did you buy a Bvlgari?"

Before Yami could say anything else, Seto pecked his lips. "I bought you that because you don't spoil yourself. I'll do it for you."

Yami, silenced by the kiss, backed away a bit, blushing, unable to say anything other than, "You're hopeless."

Seto smiled.

"You're hopeless." Yami repeated and went back closer to Seto, snuggling into him and letting him wrap his arm around his shoulders. "But I love you, thank you." He then smiled, and returned Seto a kiss, then looked at his watch.

"I love you, too." Seto smiled. Now that kiss is worth more four hundred thousand yen.

Life really did start at forty.

Notes:
(1) "Happy birthday, Professor Mutou!"

(2) Director/CEO/president

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