The Anticipated Author's Note: A big thanks to all who reviewed—I missed you guys! Thanks for the welcome backs you gave me! sniff I feel so loved. Anywho, here's chapter 2. I realize this story might be getting off to a slow start, but I promise you won't be disappointed ;) I have plans for it, after all ;) This might be the last chapter for the week since I have a 300 page book due Wednesday morning and I've yet to start reading it…cough Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Toshi Sutiiven

My day usually starts off the same way every time I crawl out of bed; the first plan of action is a shower and preparing for work. Although I'm not completely in the same wardrobe I used for the reporter job, I've found myself still dressing in similar styles for school. Commonly I'll wear dress pants or a skirt and a blouse or sweater (depending on the weather) and high heals, although I haven't worn more than two-inches in years. I've barely changed my hair, mostly because I've always liked the just-below-shoulder length, but it's now all one length opposed to the layered look I once had. A few months ago I actually got brave and had medium-blue highlights thrown in to offset the natural dark blue strands.

The one thing I've had to learn to deal with is the fact that my eyes need assistance. I tried glasses, but I couldn't stand the way they looked. My eyes, gray in color, looked totally blah and I ended up switching to contacts. So after I knew I was set with everything else, I'd force my eyes open more-so than they normally go and put in the little buggers and hoped that I wouldn't have issues with them during the day.

Breakfast only happened if there was time, but usually there wasn't. I like my sleep and I've never been an early riser. At most I'd grab a piece of fruit or a pastry of some sort as I rush out the door, this day being one of them. I grabbed what stuff I needed—purse, bag of graded and un-graded papers, books and other documents—and hurried out the door. Now living in a purely residential neighborhood in the suburbs required me to get car. I don't particularly like driving, but it's easier than walking miles and catching a bus.

Within half an hour I arrived at the school and in the teacher's lounge by seven o'clock, give or take a few minutes. The day I'm referring to now was what I like to think of as an average day. I would teach five classes (grammar, writing and reading and one public speaking class) and then have three points in the day where I covered a lunch period or had time to do my own thing. It wasn't bad. I actually enjoyed it and wished I had started off doing this in the first place.

"Layrial, happy Monday morning," was the first greeting by a familiar and welcomed voice.

I smiled and turned from putting my lunch in the refrigerator to meet the dark brown eyes of one Toshi Sutiiven. "I see the thought of ending a weekend hasn't dampened your spirits," I said to him as I started to rummage through my purse for the compact case so I could check my eyeliner.

"Naturally not," he laughed. "You know I love my job."

The thing I liked about Toshi is his sense of humor. He's one of those people that could make you laugh no matter what mood you're in. He also wasn't bad to look at—average height, dark eyes and dark hair that was tossed around like it had never seen a comb, although I knew he spent time on it every morning. It was short enough that it looked good, though.

"Finish the papers you promised your students this morning?" I asked him as we headed out the door to our own separate classrooms.

Toshi smirked and glanced over to me. "I picked up on that sarcasm," he told me. "Do you have radar on me to know what to ask Monday mornings?"

It was my turn to laugh now. "No, I just remember you mentioning on how your students had been bugging you for them and you said you hoped you'd get to them. You didn't, did you?"

He shook his head. "I did a few, but then I got interested into the sports on TV and I headed out to go fishing with my old man. You know me too well, Layrial."

Maybe I did, but it wasn't enough to make either of us happy. When I first started working at South Bay High School Toshi had just completed his "rookie" year, if you want to call it that. He was one of the first to pull me aside and tell me the way to survival is to pretend the kids are really funny like they think they are, and then you squash them when they realize you're for real. It had worked and I had immediately gained respect for him. He was always there for me to go to when I had a problem or whatever.

The funny thing is, though we got along ever-so-well, I've never taken a chance to make us more than co-workers. Toshi had asked me at the end of my first year to have dinner with him, and though I said yes at first I made up an excuse to get out of it and I haven't said yes since. I don't know what my problem is because I know he likes me and I know I like him too…I just think I'm afraid of being hurt.

Toshi patted my shoulder as he turned into his classroom and I went across the hall to my own. I had twenty minutes to get myself organized and prepared before the little monsters started pouring into the building. Monday's were always the hardest because no one wanted to be there and they were exhausted from the weekend. I don't blame them—I remember very well what it was like to be in high school.

When the final bell rang everyone was sitting in their seat and waiting for me to start my lecture. I looked at all the miserable faces; after all, the end of term was fast approaching and it was beautiful outside. I know I had little interest in being cooped up for the day.

"I hate to ask guys, but I need your homework," I said and I heard several sighs as they dug into their bags.

The assignments they had to hand in that day dealt with some historical event that they had to research and write a seven to ten page paper on. It was actually an easy assignment, but I warned them to check over what they wrote at least twice to make sure there was no sort of mistakes. During my first break I took them out of my folder of to-be graded papers and started reading through them. I was sure there were the common things like wars, people and what they did for the country, but the first paper I started was something I hadn't expected. "The Days That Could've Been the Last." I started reading it and I immediately had to put it down. The first paragraph said that they would be talking about two events in recent history that shook the world's nerves, the first being the Cell Games.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to go on. I stared at the title sitting there in bold print, it yelling at me to remember exactly what day the author of this paper was talking about. I was afraid to see what sort of information that student pulled out of any records…

"Layrial, you alright?"

I jumped nearly a mile high and my pen went flying to the floor. Toshi hurried in and picked it up, but I couldn't get myself to say thank you verbally; I merely nodded and he put the pen on the desk.

"What happened? You look as if you've seen a ghost," he said, his sweet smile spread over his face.

"N-nothing," I replied and closed the folder. "I just thought of something, that's all."

Toshi half-sat on the corner of the desk and looked down at me thoughtfully. "Did you want to talk about it? You could tell me here or we can get something to eat after work—"

"No, but thanks Toshi," I said quickly. I know it was wrong of me to constantly push him aside, but I…I don't know. I had no excuses.

"Okay then," he said in a somewhat cheery voice, but I could tell right away he felt rejected.

Honestly Layrial, what it is wrong with you! Just say yes to him—and maybe if you tell him about Cell you'll feel better afterwards. Maybe he'll find a way to help it work its way out of your mind for good…

"You know what?" I said as I leaned back in my chair. "Maybe I will take you up on that offer."

"Really?" It was so cute the way his eyes lit up and how he turned to me.

"Yeah—after school we can head downtown and get a coffee or something, if that's alright."

"It'd be fine! Hey look, I've got to run back to class, but I'll meet you in the lounge afterwards, okay?"

I'm guessing he hadn't expected the answer I gave him because he's usually not one to run off so quickly. It was cute though, and I had to admit I did admire him…to a point. Whether I could ever allow myself to date him, I couldn't tell you, but I adored him as a friend.

Once I was alone, though, I reminded myself that I was a teacher and that being so made me obligated to grade that paper, no matter what the content, no matter how…painful it could be. I opened the folder again and ignored the title as I read through the introductory paragraph for the second time.

The student had apparently received his sources from inaccurate accounts, books, and television shows. Half of the stuff mentioned in there wasn't true—Cell hadn't used tricks in ways of bombs and mirrors and his neck hadn't been broken by Hercule's final blow. If anything, I was angry after reading that. Yet I knew I couldn't tell my student that he was wrong—that's what everyone in the world thought had happened; only a select few knew what really took place and understood the power that Cell really had in his hands.

I didn't bother to finish it. Instead I sat back in my chair and closed the folder again. I couldn't understand why my life had to continue to be haunted by the memory of Cell. There weren't many who really cared about what had happened anymore—except for Hercule because it doubled his fame overnight. So why did I have to constantly be reminded every so often that I had spent nearly a week in Cell's presence? Why couldn't I just say yeah, whatever, and move on like everyone else had. What was wrong with me?

The ringing of the bell startled me and I put my thoughts aside when the students started rolling in again. It wasn't that kid's fault that I was weak minded…but I just wanted to pretend Cell never existed…