Both the title of this chapter and the first line are quotes from Anders Henriksson's piece "A History of the Past: Life Reeked with Joy" for the Wilson Quarterly. I highly recommend looking it up and having a read. I cried laughing. It truly was a balm for my poor TA soul.

"During the Middle Ages everyone was middle-aged." Ema read aloud from the essay in her hands, voice straining to keep from laughing.

"Holy shit. Your student actually wrote that and turned it in?" Suga cackled, lighting up the dreary basement offices with his bright laughter. The dam broke and quickly Ema, Suga, and Yachi were all laughing uncontrollably. The three often spent their free time grading together, commiserating over student responses and asking for outside perspectives. It wasn't like they meant to disparage their students, but once in a while, they were forced to read sentences so bizzare or mangled that they were sure the poor student who wrote it knew just how much they didn't study.

"It gets worse. Another one answered a term identification essay question with 'the Rosetta Stone is a miracle, we do not know how they did it.' I nearly cried reading it. Not out of laughter, either." The trio groaned in unison.

"World History I sounds like purgatory. Like, it's just close enough to your own work to be interesting, but too general in subject material to get excited." Yachi sympathized.

"Tell me about it." Ema snorted. "How's the World War II survey going, Yacchan?"

"Not too bad, my students at least grasp the difference between allied and axis powers now." She tapped her chin with a small finger. "Though, I think Suga has it the worst."

"Ugh don't remind me. I have no idea why the department thought it was a good idea for me to teach the American Civil War. I study French colonies in Asia! I know nothing about America! I'm learning the material at the same time as the students, how the hell am I supposed to teach it to them? If I'm going to get fucked I'd rather it be by some guy with thighs of steel than the department." The silver-haired man fumed.

"Yikes." The two women said simultaneously.

Their joint complaining session was interrupted by the buzzing of the alarm on Ema's phone.

"Ah, that's my cue. God, I hope this class is better than the last one." She gathered her papers and laptop into her bag, waving a quick goodbye to her friends.

The walk from their basement office to the science quad was, this time, filled with a quiet air of satisfaction. It had been a full week since her classroom disaster with Kuroo, and she cursed herself that she still hadn't taken the time to thank him for contacting campus scheduling to change his room assignment. She wasn't Kuroo's biggest fan, but she wasn't going to ignore such an act of kindness. That, and she had inadvertently admitted to accepting their friendship via text the other day. Or whatever.

For all the sporadic texting the two had done over the weekend, Ema still didn't know much about Kuroo, other than his place in the chemistry department. How do you thank someone you don't know very well, she wondered as she neared the fated classroom 214B. He had asked about Frederick, probably having seen him when he delivered his joke essay to her office, but she assumed he had asked out of a passing curiosity and not a genuine interest. Ema knew better than to use taxidermy as a thank-you gift.

Once class was over, Ema fought her deepest instinct to rush back to her basement office to dive into another series of chapters and articles on her reading list. The thought of Kuroo's kindness in handling their classroom mixup, on top of the coffee he treated her to after her meltdown the week before, weighed on her mind. Ema was stubborn, and the thought of being in someone's debt did not sit right with her. So instead of heading back to her department building, she turned in the opposite direction and walked to Sips, tapping away on her phone.

(11:39) From: History Girl-

I owe you. Meet at Sips for restitution coffee

(11:39) From: History Girl-

If you're free of course

Kuroo had just walked into his apartment when his phone chimed. He dropped his bag at the door and exhaled a small laugh through his nose at the sight of Lev sprawled out on their couch, long legs dangling off of the end so his head could sit comfortably on the cushions. Kuroo saw that his roommate was concentrating hard enough on the TV drama before him that a small rivulet of drool was beginning to dribble down his chin.

"Yaku will kill you if you drool on the pillows again, Lev." He chuckled as he pulled his phone from the back pocket of his dark jeans.

"Fuck." Lev whispered, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, eyes wide with a knowing fear. Two raised eyebrows nearly disappeared into Kuroo's bed head as he checked his messages.

"As much as I would love to stick around for whatever...this is," Kuroo gestured vaguely in Lev's direction, "your man's got a date." And with that, he spun on his heel and walked right back out the door.

##

Ema sat quietly at her favorite table, just far enough away from the café counter to avoid the crowded line, but far enough from the window to avoid being observed by passersby. Oikawa had already pestered her twice about coming in alone after she had made the mistake, in her opinion, of bringing Kuroo in with her last week. Thankfully, his boyfriend Iwaizumi was working today as well and could be counted on to rein in her friend's antics, usually to the tune of 'shut it shittykawa.'

She couldn't keep her face from turning a blotchy shade of pink when Oikawa had asked, though. And, because the two brain cells left that she possessed after a rough class just couldn't bring themselves to form a coherent thought, Ema nearly forgot that it was her that invited Kuroo this time around. To cool herself down and to at least make this outing productive, she pulled out the remainder of the essays she needed to grade and got to work scribbling notes and corrections as she went. Lost in the mind numbing process of grading, Ema easily lost track of time.

"Mmm I see this was more of a business meeting, then." A deep voice startled Ema from her work. If she hadn't been a victim of grading tunnel-vision, Ema might have noticed the slight pang of disappointment in his voice.

"Oh, Kuroo. Sorry for the short notice...I-I felt bad about not thanking you for dealing with the room mix-up." Ema smiled sheepishly. "So, uh, get whatever you want and tell Oikawa to put it on my tab." I'm going to get grilled for that later, she groaned internally.

"Mind if I work too?" Kuroo asked as he settled at the table, coffee in-hand.

"Be my guest. But If you hear me laughing, it's my students' fault." She sighed in reply. Only twelve more essays to grade.

"Oya? Can't be worse than the paper I wrote for you." Kuroo smirked, opening his laptop.

"You wrote a comprehensive textbook compared to some of the essays I've read this morning." A small smile worked its way across Ema's face at the thought of the 'miracle' Rosetta Stone.

"Then why did you give me such a bad grade, sensei?" Kuroo pouted.

"I gave you a B! That's quite good, you know." His eyes followed the red pen she twirled between her thumb and forefinger.

"Everyone knows a B in grad school is essentially a failing grade."

"Good thing my students aren't in grad school, then." Ema's small smile was now a full-on grin. Cute, Kuroo couldn't help but think.

After a few minutes of mostly silent work, Kuroo stretched his long arms above his head, pulling the muscles in his back taut and pressing his chest ever-so-slightly outwards. Ema did not miss the opportunity to scowl at what, in her opinion, was a clear attempt at showing off. Ugh, must be an athlete, they love to flaunt—'Tsumu sure does.

"You never told me what your research is about." He peered over the top of his laptop at her from across the table. A distinct dusting of pink spread across her cheeks and nose.

"Ah, well, most people don't like to hear about...that...kind of stuff." She laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. Kuroo raised one eyebrow at her.

"That kind of stuff? Oya?" Oh, how he couldn't wait for more puzzle pieces.

"So when most people think about history they think about wars and politicians and maybe a revolution or two, right? But like, everything has a history. From the coffee you're drinking to the museum you went to on that class trip when you were twelve." Ema took a steadying breath. "But when I tell people that I study the history of science they scrunch their nose up and wonder, why, like 'science' is a timeless immutable series of facts about the world that have always been true. But...that's not what I study." She paused to gauge Kuroo's reaction, knowing full-well that she was ranting about science to an actual scientist.

"So what is that you study, then?" He asked once again with no judgement in his tone.

"It boils down to how people have understood the natural world around them in different ways over time. You're a chemist, right, so you view the natural world through a very specific lens guided by experimental practices and decades of previous research. But so did the 9th century alchemist Jabir ibn Hayyan. Lots of people might call you both chemists, but Jabir wouldn't and that matters."

Kuroo saw the fire in Ema's eyes as she continued ranting. He placed his chin in the palm of his hand, resting his elbow on the cafe table.

"I-I'm sorry. Oh my god I'm rambling, I'm so sorry." She clawed her hands in front of her now very red face. All Kuroo could do was laugh. Not the smooth, casual laugh he reserved for flirting or impressing his professors. No, the ugly cackle reserved for when he physically couldn't restrain himself; for when Kenma pulled pranks on him or when Yaku finally worked up the courage to confess to Lev.

"Sonoda," Kuroo gasped once he finally caught his breath, "that's amazing. Who knew we had so much in common, eh? And for what it's worth, if you ever feel the need to rant about the history of science, please don't hesitate."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Ah, it's just that I don't study the history of chemistry. I was just using an example that I hoped you would understand. But, I uh, I'll tell you more about my research another time. I'm never going to get these papers graded if I go off on another tangent."

And the smile Kuroo received was the most genuine one he'd seen from her yet.

##

Ema and Kuroo formed a routine of sorts. Tuesdays, after teaching their respective classes—held in entirely separate buildings, now—would meet at Sips to work until Kuroo had to catch the bus back to his apartment at three. Some days were spent in comfortable silence, each reading their own books and articles. Others were spent in noisy commiseration over grading quizzes or lamenting cranky professors. Ema soon found herself in the loop on much more of the chemistry department's gossip than she ever anticipated, and Kuroo knew exactly which days the history department ordered sandwiches for their weekly staff meetings. Talking to Kuroo was easy. He seemed to instinctively know when it was going to be a chatty or quiet day for the two of them, settling into Ema's moods quickly. He asked about her cohort friends, Suga (who he already had the pleasure of meeting and flustering) and Yachi, and she asked about his roommates and their glory days as high school volleyballers. It was during one of those nostalgic conversations that an idea struck Ema, very suddenly and without any forethought.

"Do you still like volleyball?"

"Of course. Just because I don't play anymore doesn't mean I stopped liking it. Plus, Yaku always gets us good tickets to the university games whenever we want." Kuroo took an impressively large bite out of his sandwich (they had also recently started buying lunches to eat together at Sips.) Ema played with the zipper of her messenger bag, pulling it open and closed in a contemplative fashion.

"My friend got me tickets to a game in a few days. I don't know anyone else who likes volleyball...I...would you...I mean you don't have to, but would you want to go?"

Kuroo narrowed his eyes in thought. He knew the university's team was away at a training camp for the next four days, which also had the added benefit of Yaku's absence around the apartment and a much quieter and subdued Lev. But if the game Ema was referring to wasn't a university game, which team was scheduled to play this week?

Unable to stop the train of his thinking, a realization hit Kuroo like, well, a train. Was this her way of asking for a date? Red bloomed at the tips of his ears. A strangled noise escaped his throat and it was at that point he noticed that it had been an undeniably awkward amount of time since Ema had asked him to go to a volleyball game with her.

"You really don't have to, if you're busy." She fidgeted, bringing Kuroo back to reality.

"No!" He shouted, unable to regulate his volume in a public space. Spending time with Lev really is rubbing off on me, he mused. "What I mean," Kuroo began at a much more reasonable volume, "that sounds fun. I'd love to go. Uh, who's playing?"

Ema checked her phone and chewed her bottom lip.

"Ah, Black Jackals and," she squinted her eyes at her phone screen "Raijin. Oh, guess they'll be there too." She muttered to herself.

"You have Black Jackals tickets? Do you know how hard it is to get those so close to a game?" He stared at her incredulously. Who the hell was this 'friend' with the tickets? "Yaku is going to be so jealous."

She shrugged and sipped some more of her drink.

"If you're more interested in seeing the Adlers I think I can get seats for that game instead. I think they play them a couple days later." Back she went to scrutinize her phone. She didn't see Kuroo's mystified stare.

"Don't change your plans on my account! Raijin sounds great. They have a middle blocker I've always admired." Kuroo stammered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Okay. The game is Friday, so we can meet on campus and take the train because that will be eas—"

"Ya hoo!" Oikawa expertly interrupted, slapping Kuroo on the back with more force than could be considered casual. "Just so you know, Rooster-chan, you've been coming to my café for several weeks now, monopolizing my favorite customer, and you still haven't received one of my palm readings."

"Ha?"

"Oikawa, please no." Ema groaned.

"And your bus leaves in five minutes." Oikawa's eyes narrowed menacingly.

"Shit!" Kuroo slammed his laptop shut and hurriedly gathered his belongings into his backpack. "Uh, See you Friday then Sonoda!" A minute later he was sprinting past the café window towards the bus stop.

"That was unnecessary, Oikawa." Ema glared.

"What? Was I supposed to just let him miss his bus? I've always been a nice person, Em-chan." She snorted in response. "Besides, if you're asking Rooster-chan on a date, he needs to be vetted through the proper channels."

"By 'proper channels' you mean you and your carnival palm reading?"

"Mean Em-chan!"

"And it's not a date!"

I am 100% not joking when I say I actually had to grade a paper that stated "The Rosetta Stone is a miracle. We do not know how they did it." It caused me psychic damage okay?

And to be clear, my inclusion of my IRL TA experience and the Henriksson piece is absolutely not to disparage the work that my undergrads or any other college student puts into their education. Everyone has rough days and it's normal to half-ass an assignment here and there. But sometimes people write the funniest fucking things, either intentionally or not, and oh boy, it makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time.