"Hun, get out of bed. It's almost noon."

I roll over and pull the warm covers further over my head. "Just a few more minutes."

I feel said covers get yanked off of my half-naked body as my mom huffs and claps her hands impatiently. I yelp and sit up, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Mom!" I cry, slightly more harshly than intended. I don't mean to cause her trouble in the morning, but I can't help it. I'm just not a morning person. She frowns and scolds me.

"In case you forgot, I have a job interview today. I have to take you over to Agamya's… and I'm assuming you'll want to put on some more clothes before you go over," she says, walking out the door to let me get ready. I flush a little in embarrassment, walk over to my dresser, and grab a pair of jeans and a shirt.

After I've gotten dressed and brushed my teeth, I walk into our tiny kitchen and snatch an orange to eat on the way. I also grab my schoolbag and a magazine about geology that I got for free at the dentist's office. Mom makes me brush my hair and then we're on our way.

It only takes a few minutes to get to Agamya's house. Mom drops me off at the door and tells me she'll be back at six, and to have my school done by the time she gets back. I ring the doorbell. After a moment's pause, the door opens to reveal a blond girl about my height.

"Hey," she says, and ushers me in. No further greeting is necessary; my mom's been looking for a job for a while, and by now we know the drill. I follow Agamya to the living room (which is familiarly and pleasantly messy from a wealth of books lying about), and sit on the couch a few paces from her. She lies upside-down with her feet over the top of the couch— she's weird like that— and I sit normally, grabbing a textbook from my backpack.

"You've got math?" she asks, seeing the cover.

"Yeah. I have to double up today because I procrastinated yesterday, which I'm now regretting," I sigh, opening the book to page 169. It's not that I dislike math— I actually enjoy it sometimes— but I'd rather be doing science. Or reading one of my own books.

"What about you?" I ask Agamya, noticing that she has an action/adventure novel in her hands. She shrugs.

"I finished all my school this morning."

I make a jealous face and she sticks her tongue out in a playful, teasing manner. Then we're both silent for the next few hours. That's pretty much how it always goes, which I'm completely fine with. I like Agamya— she's one of the only kids (scratch that: the only kid) my age who doesn't mind reading the entire time I'm at her house, and her parents are good friends with my mom, so it works out.

Occasionally one of us makes a remark about what we're reading— in my case, usually a complaint as to how ridiculous a word problem is— but the rest of the time, the only sound is the very quiet ticking of the clock, which I sometimes become aware of for no particular reason besides boredom. The sights around me aren't something I bother to take in, as I know them all by heart already. The brown leather of the couch, the smudges on the glass coffee table, the perpetually turned-off TV screen, the way Agamya's hair falls into place with her head towards the floor and her feet towards the sky… none of it is new to me. I've observed it all before, so I don't bother observing it again.

As my head fills with problems and answers, the world around me slowly becomes as irrelevant as the TV screen. As far as I'm aware, only two things exist: numbers, and the slow ticking of the clock.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Go to college in Ninjago City, they said. It will be a valuable learning experience, they said. Well, here I am. Not many things are able to frustrate me. The pace that my classes are moving? That frustrates me. I like having free time as much as the next guy, okay? But I've hardly learned ANYTHING from these college courses, besides how bothersome other people can be. Especially older people who think they know everything just because they're professors and aren't willing to listen to their students' ideas. I offer a helpful suggestion in bioengineering ONE time…

I sigh and erase a portion of the blueprints I'm working on. They aren't for class— I'm completely caught up on all of my homework and I'm ahead of schedule for a big project. So I've been forced to put all my creative energy into my own projects, which one might think I'd be used to because of all my years being homeschooled. Except without any sort of given guidelines, structures, or goals to work towards, I'm not really sure what I'm doing with most of those projects. I pull out a long contraption that looks like a rod with several gears skewered on, which is actually pretty much all it is. It doesn't do anything except give me something to fidget with when I'm impatient, like now. I built it myself specifically for that purpose.

I stare down at the blueprints again. Right now they resemble some sort of mechanical bird. Not really sure why I'd need a robot bird. Frustrated, I slide those blueprints back into a folder on the desk and pull out a different set. These prints are for a cube which has a special type of AI I've been developing— one that can learn things through real life experiences, not just through altered coding. It's much more complex than most of the machinery I've built, though, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to complete it (if ever). I thought college would help me with stuff like this. I'd hoped having live professors teaching me instead of just my mom or textbooks would be beneficial to the growth of my already pretty extensive knowledge, but alas, the many people who said it would be had turned out to be wrong.

My dorm room— which is tiny and barely furnished— is completely silent, all but for the ticking of the hand-me-down clock on the wall. Silence doesn't bother me when there's other stuff to fill my head, but as is, this ticking is going to drive me crazy. It's repetitive and loud and if I decided to be irrational about it, I'd probably think it was mocking me for how long I was taking to figure this stupid cube out.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

"Are you sure about this?" a female voice asks.

I know I should be patient, but at this point, I'm sick and tired of patience. We've been talking in circles for the past two hours and I'm sick and tired of it. I'm annoyed that my idea is being questioned as if I haven't already thought through all the odds and ends of it, I'm frustrated that the one person who I thought would be excited for me is instead worrying like a little kid, and I'm angry that there seems to be zero sympathy considering everything I've just been through. So I snap.

"Agamya, what is WITH you lately? I'm nineteen years old and I've already graduated from one of the most prestigious colleges in Ninjago with a doctorate degree. A DOCTORATE, Agamya. Do you really think I don't know what I'm doing?!"

My childhood friend— who's changed a lot in appearance but not much in demeanor— bites her lip. She clutches her bookbag to her chest as if she's just said something wrong, which she has.

"Sanjay, you know that's not what I meant. I know better than anyone that your designs for the structure are flawless. I trust that your blueprints are solid in theory and they'll probably even translate well into reality, and that's saying a lot considering that you're going to go live in a TREE in the middle of the forest. That's not the part that concerns me."

"Well what is, then?" I retort, a little louder than intended. Thankfully, it's nighttime and the park is empty except for us and some onlooking ravens. I chose the location and time because I thought it would be an exciting way to reveal my genius idea, but clearly, that's not happening.

"I'm just— I'm just worried about you," I hear her argue, and my throat tightens up a little. She's trying not to cry, I can tell from her voice. But that's not my problem. I force myself to stop worrying about it. She has a good mind, but she's too emotional, and she lets those emotions get in the way of logical processing.

"I don't think living by yourself in complete isolation is a good idea for you right now," she continues, trying to steady her voice.

"Why not? I've lived that way the rest of my life, it's not going to be any different now!" I exclaim. I hold my folder full of blueprints defensively, like she's going to snatch them away. Inside are some of the most complicated, well thought-out structures I've ever designed, including a hollow metal house in the shape of a tree that will blend in with the surrounding forest.

"Sanjay, please, listen to me! I know you're upset about your mom, but this isn't a good way to deal with—"

"THIS ISN'T ABOUT MY MOM!" I yell back. The ravens around us fly away, startled, and the park falls into complete silence. Agamya's lip quivers, but she takes a deep breath and after collecting herself, answers me with a shaky voice.

"Fine. If this is what you think is best, go ahead. But if you change your mind, please tell me. I can find you a place in the city that will be quiet enough for you to focus on your work, or even somewhere in town—"

"There is no place in any town that's isolated enough. A town is, by definition, a densely populated area, generally larger than a village and smaller than a city. And 'densely populated' is the OPPOSITE of what I'm trying to accomplish." I sigh and set down the folder in desperation. "Why can't you see what I'm trying to do here?! This is going to be the PERFECT living situation for me. Nobody to bother me while I work, not so dangerous that it's risky to build a house, plenty of edible plants and clean water nearby, nature to study everywhere … it's even close enough to the town so that I can take occasional trips to sell my wares and get supplies, of which I will probably need a lot."

Agamya is silent. She looks down at the ground and closes her eyes. Small water droplets start to form in the corners of them, and she no longer makes an effort to stop them from falling. I'm not heartless, but honestly, at this point, I'm too frustrated to care.

"I can't be happy with your decision," she whispers, "but I can't stop you from going, either. When are you leaving?"

"As soon as possible. I won't be able to move out until the main structure is finished, but I plan to start construction tomorrow, and I'm going to be very busy working on it," I reply, and I notice that my hands are shaking slightly. I don't know why. I'm not sad. I have no reason to be. Maybe they're shaking from anger. There is an awkward silence.

"Goodbye, then," she finally says, and her eyes lock onto mine as she somehow tries to convince me one last time to stay without saying anything.

"Goodbye," I reply, trying hard to reign in my angry voice and be gentle, or at least professional. I'm about to add my well wishes for her future— after all, she's intelligent, too, and I'm sure she'll eventually do something with her knowledge— but she turns around and walks away before I have the chance. Her pace is brisk but her gait is awkward and uneasy, as if she has a hurt leg. I watch her walk through the dark, quiet park until she reaches the sidewalk, which is lit by a several of a new invention called streetlights. Comfortable enough that she's safe and knows her way home, I turn away, pull out my blueprints again, and readjust my spectacles. I can't actually make out any of the writing in the dark, but I already know what everything says, and I like looking at the results of my hard work. Soon the results will be even more solid than the paper I hold in my hands.

I'm about to leave when a sudden, completely random realization hits me. Agamya's eyes have always been green, but just moments ago while I was arguing with her they looked blue. I frown to myself, firstly because I don't know why the thought even came to mind and secondly because it makes no logical sense. Eye colors can change, but usually not so drastically, and I'm fairly certain they almost always go from lighter to darker, not the other way around. I suppose my own eyes could've reflected off of hers while we were talking, but that would've made more sense if she were the one wearing glasses instead of me— and there would've had to have been a light source, anyhow. It's not possible that I could've analyzed wrong the first time, was it? I've known her since I was thirteen. Surely I would've caught my mistake sooner. My eyebrows furrow in confused frustration and I decide to drop the subject, since it's bringing me nothing but negative feelings and I don't see why I need to solve it in the first place. I start to leave the park and walk the opposite direction Agamya left, heading back to my own pad.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

I'm so accustomed to the noise that it doesn't even occur to me as I leave that there is, in fact, no clock nearby.

(A/N: Well you only need the light when it's burning low, only miss the sun when it starts to snow, I didn't mean to make this fic an OC show… X'D Flashbacks are fun to write but nerve-wracking to post. Reviews are reassurance to my muse. XP) (Also, the title was originally gonna be something different [can you believe it] but hECK YEA SYMBOLISM /AND/ CALLBACKS TO THE SHOW)