AN: Prominent thanks, as always, to my beta, Jewels12. If it weren't for her, you guys would be reading a lot of awkward descriptions. Rory and Marty are supposed to be awkward, not my writing. And I'd also like to send out a thank you to the folks that reviewed the previous chapter and/or added this story to their alert list.


"Where's Rory?" Carl asked when Marty joined him at breakfast.

"Oh, I don't know. But one of her suitemates was in, so at least the robe business is taken care of."

"That's good. Wait – she wasn't there? There aren't any classes before 8:30, are there?" It was clear by Carl's tone that he was digusted, by both the thought that such a class could exist and the idea that anyone would sign up for it.

"I don't think so." Marty shrugged absently. "I think the girl said something about Rory not being home last night."

Carl gave an exaggerated gasp, and in a faux-shocked voice said, "On a school night?! What could possibly keep an eighteen year old girl out on a school night?"

Marty looked up and rolled his eyes at his roommate's wiggling eyebrows. "How should I know? I barely know her. Now how about we just drop this before you make an ass out of yourself… again."

Carl's face quickly dropped and he suddenly became very interested in his last bite of pancake. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Girls aren't always quite as eager as you seem to hope they'd be. You're just lucky Julie has a good sense of humor," Marty teased.

"God, neither of you will let me live that down, will you?"

"Are you going to let me live down being the Naked Guy?"

"Not anymore," Carl shot back. "Wait a second. I'm done, so I don't have to sit here for this." He slapped his palms onto the table and propelled himself to his feet. "See ya later, Naked Guy," he spat as he whisked off with his tray.

"Later, Rudolph," Marty called after him.

After Carl left, Marty idly wondered where Rory had been. She wasn't flirty or slutty like some girls, so he doubted it was a random hook up like Carl suggested. Maybe a boyfriend, but he never noticed her with anyone, so Marty figured he'd have to be at another school.

Marty downed the rest of his OJ before throwing away his stuff and heading off to class.

When he arrived, Rory was already there. He gave a little wave, and they traded nods and cordial smiles. Marty hesitated for a long moment, scanning the room as he considered his options. If he went to sit in his old seat, would it look like he was avoiding her again? But going to sit with her might be a little forced. He could either undo a friendship that had just begun, or presume a friendship that didn't exist. Luckily, Marty's brain kicked in and he noticed that there weren't any seats near her anyway. He split the difference and took a seat across from his old one. Looking over, he gave her a 'See, I'm not hiding from you anymore' grin.


"What I really appreciated was the way Mitsuhashi thoroughly conveyed the complexity and depth of the culture in Japan's Muromachi period."

Could this guy sound any more pretentious? Marty thought with a chuckle. "I kind of thought it was overdone, and almost unnecessary," he replied to his classmate.

"Unnecessary?" Rory interrupted incredulously. "The sense of honor, shame, and duty that are such a strong part of the culture are what directly led to Yoshiaki's suicide. How can you say that explaining that is unnecessary?"

Marty tried his best to address both Rory and the classmate she was jumping in to defend. "Because the point of the novel isn't that he committed suicide, but rather his internal conflict way before suicide even became a topic. That struggle is universal across all cultures. That pain is what led him to want to kill himself."

"So you're saying this could have taken place in Canada, and we would have read the same story."

"Of course not, the names would have been different," Marty deadpanned. "But, yeah, Yoshiaki's internal journey would have been the same in Canada or Japan. The only part where the Japanese culture plays a role is in the resolution – his suicide."

"Exactly," she countered. "And we needed the deep understanding of the culture to know why he decided to commit suicide."

"I disagree. We only needed a basic understanding to know that over there, and back then, suicide was an acceptable outcome. Up until that point, couldn't you relate to what he was going through? Couldn't you identify with his regret for failing his family and his village? Did you need a history and sociology lesson before you could understand how important those connections were to him, and how it felt when they were severed?" For a moment, he thought Rory looked stunned into speechlessness, but figured she was just gathering her thoughts for her next remark. "Mitsuhashi did such a beautiful job of giving Yoshiaki a universal voice, that I thought the heavy handed cultural descriptions actually detracted from the novel." Great, now I'm a pretentious douche.

"Okay, class, we need to leave time to discuss the upcoming in-class essay," their professor interrupted.

Marty worked to smother a smile. That was the first time he had really been in a one-on-one debate with Rory. He knew that in these class discussions there were no winners or losers, but he had seen plenty of people crumble when challenged by Ms. Gilmore, and he was pleased with himself that he had managed to hold his own.

When the professor dismissed the class, Marty gathered up his belongings and zipped up his bag. As he stood up and turned to the door, he heard Rory call out, "Marty, wait up!" He turned back and nodded, stepping to the table again to let his classmates by.

"What's up?" he asked when she caught up to him. "Can't let that debate go?" They fell into step together as they walked down the hall.

"Oh, no," she half laughed. "No, I, uh, I liked what you had to say back there."

"Oh, thanks," he said a little self-consciously. He hadn't been expecting a compliment.

"Yeah, and I was just thinking, you know how we need to turn in the second draft of our term paper in a few weeks?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, not sure where this was going.

Rory closed her eyes, and Marty caught the sudden, unexpected movement. "Well, I was... wondering," she began, her eyes reopening, "if you'd be interested in, um... trading papers. You know, critique each other so we can turn in a better second draft," she finished with a casual shrug.

"Oh, sure." He smiled. It seemed like a lot of effort for such a simple suggestion and he found it both confusing and endearing.

"Cool." Rory nodded a little awkwardly. She jostled her head as if something had just dawned on her. "Oh, right, I forgot. Thanks for dropping off my robe. Sorry I missed you."

"No big deal. Had to do it sometime. I just figured I'd come by before breakfast and see if you wanted to join Carl and me."

"Oh." Marty was surprised that she sounded kind of disappointed. "I would have, but I didn't come back from my Mom's until right before class. Maybe next time, though."

"Next time? You mean, the next time I drop off your robe?" he teased.

"I meant next time for breakfast," she said, rolling her eyes at him.

"Ahh," he said, pretending he only just now figured out what she was talking about. "Well, for the Breakfast Crew, that will be around ten tomorrow."

"I'll be there," she said, and he was pretty sure he caught her smiling to herself.

"Good. Hey, do you like coffee?"

She let out a slight chortle before sighing, "Oh, Marty, you have so much to learn." He raised one eyebrow at her, trying to clue her into the fact that she didn't actually answer the question. "That's a yes."

"Oookaaay. Well, do you have time to grab one? I found the best coffee on campus and I usually make a pit stop before or after my first class. Today happens to be after."

"I have time, but I already found the best coffee on campus, so I doubt I'll agree with your recommendation."

"You're that sure your selection is better than mine?" he challenged.

"Marty, if you saw the extensive sampling process that we went through, you would be just as sure as I am. I also had several test subjects. Can you say the same?"

"No," he said warily, wondering if she was being serious.

"I'm sure I'll like it just fine," she said with mock-condescension in her voice. "Just don't be disappointed when I don't gush over it." She must have been caught up in the debate because when they finally turned a corner by one of the libraries, she looked over to the coffee cart in surprise, and then back to him for confirmation that he was leading her there. "Well, I stand corrected."

"Excuse me?"

"My coffee isn't any better than yours," she said before she walked up to the vendor. "Hi, Tom. How's it going?"

"Good. Back for your second cup of the day already?"

"This is more of a social call, rather than a caffeine-withdrawal visit."

They each got their 'usuals', and then turned toward the academic buildings. Rory was telling him about a diner in her hometown that she was sure served the best coffee in all of Connecticut. Then they walked the next few steps in silence.

Just as he was starting to feel a little self-conscious, Marty heard her chuckle. "What?" he asked.

"I still can't get over how you had the audacity to say that the Japanese culture wasn't critical in a Japanese fiction course," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Well, it made sense to me." He shrugged with a half smile. "By the way, I meant to ask you yesterday… why are you taking the class?"

"Well, I want to be a journalist, specifically a foreign correspondent. So I figure I should be well rounded in all kinds of cultures. What about you?"

"Kind of the same idea, but I want to be a writer."

"Planning on writing the great American novel?"

"You're mocking me," he said with a squint. "But that's the general idea, yes. America's such a mix of different cultures that I just figured I should learn about as many of them as possible before I try."

"Makes sense."

He looked up and saw they were approaching the building for his next class, but her body language suggested she was going to keep walking. "Well, this is me, so I'll catch you later. I'll give you my paper when it's a little further along."

"Me too. Later, Marty."