Hello again! Now, I do promise that I won't have any stories that will have something that hinders me from doing it. Nor will I try writing any stories that I'm not comfortable with, since I always end up deleting them.

I'm pretty excited to write this story, and I hope that you guys are totally excited to read it. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Junjou Romantica.

It was a cool, autumn morning. Different shades of leaves littered the streets, falling into the grass and onto statues. Children ran though them, jumping on mixtures of browns, reds, oranges and yellows and listening to the satisfying crunch that followed. There were adults that walked along the sidewalks, talking quickly on their phones or merely making small talk with their companions. Among this group, a dark haired man held a canvas under one arm with a cup of coffee in his hand, a case he wheeled around full of paints in the other.

A cigarette clenched between his teeth, he held an exhausted expression as he walked. He was already late for his class, and the fact that his car battery had died on the day he needed it most didn't make anything any better. He let out an exasperated sigh, finishing the last of his coffee and throwing the cup in the trash. His footing was unsteady as he walked quickly, trying not to run and spill all of the paints he so preciously needed.

He finally made his way to the small building that he needed to be in, a sign above that read:

'MITSUHASHI ART SCHOOL'

Throwing the doors open to his classroom, he was met with adoring eyes from other students wanting to learn. He rolled up the sleeves to his black turtleneck and brushed off his matching slacks, taking out the apron from his crate and putting it on.

"Hello class, my name is Miyagi-sensei." He began…

"That will be all for today." He said, packing up the many different sizes of pencils and pens. The class had been fairly easy, only learning about the pure basics of art while showing them the different between mediocre drawings and beautiful pieces of art. Having studied art for years on end, it was hard for him to not draw to the best of his ability, and it lightened his spirits when he knew that there were those with the same attitude as him.

Packing up the rest of his things, he exited the room and made his way from the building. A few students stopped him for idle chat; although he was so tired he could only muster a few words before going back on his way. Checking his watch, he saw that he still had time to make the train if he hurried, which he quickened his pace just for that.

He walked towards a city park, seeing it as a shortcut that would get him to the train station faster. There were women pushing babies in strollers that crossed his path, making him stop every few minutes as he reconsidered taking this direction to the station. As he stopped for the third time, he looked around and something caught his eye.

A small pond sat in the dead center of the park, ducks splashing through it and people feeding them bits of bread. In the midst of all the others, a dirty blonde haired boy sat against a tree, sketching something into his notepad. Curious as to what the boy could be drawing, he stalked his way over and sat slightly behind him. The boy was none the wiser, ear buds in his ears blocked out all of the sound from the others as well as the sound of Miyagi's heavy breathing.

Miyagi couldn't believe his eyes. In the book, there was a detailed sketch of the birds that had been splashing around in the water minutes ago. The intricacy of the design made him gasp, since he had never seen anyone draw so well. Except for him, of course.

"Um, excuse me…" Miyagi began, tapping the other on the shoulder. He flung his hand backwards as the other jumped from the touch, spinning around and meeting his gaze. The boys face contained a surprised expression, mostly from Miyagi sneaking behind him like that. He clutched his sketchbook and glared at the confused man, now angry with him for having scared him like that.

"You're excused." He hissed, waiting to hear what excuse the other was going to come up with.

"Ah!" Miyagi had come to his senses after being scared by the boy. "I mean you no harm, I promise. My name is Miyagi, Miyagi Yoh. I didn't mean to scare you but…your drawing was nice. I don't think I've ever seen such a nice piece of work in my life." He complimented.

The other merely blushed at this, secretly forgiving the man for scaring him. "I-I-It's just a sketch." He stuttered.

"But, it was such a nice one! I know you could definitely put those skills to good use!" Miyagi said, bringing himself to his feet. He slid a hand in his shirt pocket and pulled out a card, handing it to the other. "I'm really a college art professor, but I also do private lessons in my own time. I'd really like to see what you can do, call me if you can." He then glanced back down at his watch. "I'm sorry, I don't have much time. I have to go catch a train." With that, he turned on his heels and left.

The dirty blonde haired boy took the card and examined it, not saying a word.

I finally got around to writing a terrorist fic, and one that will stay at that. Haha.

You know my rules, though for ones that haven't read my stories before… Read and review, or just read and love it…or something. XD