Sometimes I entertain the thought of becoming a professional ninja. After all, the pinpoint accuracy with which I can hurl a piece of chalk across a classroom is a force to be reckoned with.

"IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO PAY ATTENTION, GET OUT OF MY CLASS!" I roar as the chalk makes direct contact with the scalp of a sleeping student. He jumps up immediately, eyes wide and chalk dust puffing from his dark hair.

The rest of the class freezes. You'd think they know to pay attention by now!

I stare down each and every one of them, breathing hard. "I shouldn't have to repeat myself this many times in one week!" I yell in a tone slightly calmer than that of my outburst. "You're here to learn, not sleep!"

The class stares back at me, some of them glancing among themselves. Insolent brats!

Finally I take a deep breath and fix my glasses. "Back to the lecture." The students respond by breathing quiet sighs of relief. The room fills with the soft sound of bodies shifting and notebook pages turning. I turn back around to face the board and reach for my chalk, only to grope at the empty space below the board.

…Right.

An hour later, I am finally able to retire to my office. I love to teach of the virtues of fine Japanese literature, but these students really have a knack for eroding my enthusiasm; what little of it I had when I became an associate professor.

I nudge the door open with my foot and find that the office is empty. My eyes light up for the first time today. No Miyagi! What a treat! I carry my stack of materials and papers to grade to my desk with a skip in my step. Maybe now I can actually get something done.

I settle into my chair and separate the tall stack into piles. I set the pile of my own binders and folders aside to make room for grading. I have this semester's midterm essays, so I will need prime environmental conditions like this to do a good job assessing them. I turn on my desk light, reach into my drawer, and pull out a trusty red pen.

I savor the moment. There's nothing like getting ready to hunker down and dissect a paper word by word!

I hold my breath. Usually moments like this are immediately followed by someone barreling through the door to derail my plans. But thankfully, no one comes.

I give a satisfied chuckle as I reach for the first paper. It must be my lucky day!

I methodically read through the papers, taking note of individual students' improvements in grammar or sentence structure. They may call me "Demon Kamijou," but they conveniently forget that I actively shape them into better readers and writers. Hmph.

After grading six essays, I reach for the next one. "Takahashi Misaki," reads the name at the top. I pause. Why does this name seem significant? He's just a short, average looking, barely literate kid.

Oh…right. Akihiko told me that this kid was his flatmate. I was shocked, and many different emotions coursed through me in that moment: disbelief, anger, concern, confusion…jealousy.

I chew the inside of my cheek. I shouldn't have been jealous then, and I most certainly shouldn't be jealous now. I have Nowaki and he's good to me. Better than good!

And yet….

Akihiko. My heart still sputters even at the thought of him. All those years I spent, pining after one I could never have. And it culminated in the day he rejected me and I met Nowaki. It really seems like fate. Every force in the universe seems to push me away from him, but I just can't let him go. Why can't I move on?

Could this be the reason I can't bring myself to make any deeper commitments to Nowaki?

I jump out of my chair and to my feet in a flash. BLASPHEMY! I just don't want to because I know we legally cannot!

…Right?

I brace myself against my desk with my hands. This inner turmoil is frustrating beyond comprehension. But I don't hear what I don't want to hear, even if it's coming from within.

Being me is exhausting.

"Ka-mi-jou!" comes the nasally, over the top shout of Miyagi as the office door is kicked open. "Are you in here?!"

I flinch and turn around. Leave it to this idiot to interrupt my journey of self-exploration.

"Yes," I call back as I try to compose myself, "and I'd appreciate it if you didn't always come barging in like that."

"No can do!" he says cheerfully as he shuts the door behind him. I notice the stack of papers he has in one hand and fear the worst. He starts making his way over to me. "If it weren't for me grabbing your attention every once in a while, you'd just get lost in that head of yours!" He playfully knocks on the side of my head a few times with his fist, but he seems serious.

"I really don't need your concern."

"But you do need…these!" He holds up the stack of papers triumphantly, as if it were a trophy.

It's too early in the day to deal with his stupidity.

"And why would I need those?" I mutter, grasping the temple of my glasses and pushing them back into place.

"Because! I have meetings for the rest of the day and need you to grade them for me."

"Professor, you really need to start-"

"Can't talk! I have important business I need to attend to right now!" He plops the stack of papers on the one already on my desk, grabs his coat off his chair, and speeds out of the room. I can practically see a cartoony trail of smoke in his wake.

I roll my eyes and sigh, then turn to look at the new stack of papers on my desk. Too bad we don't all have people we can just dump our problems onto.

For the rest of the day, I alternate between grading papers and teaching the other two classes I have each Wednesday. Slowly but surely, I whittle the daunting stack down into a flimsy pile. When the sun finally dips below the horizon, I can finally put away my red grading pen.

"There we go," I say as I drop Miyagi's stack of assignments on his desk. My essays are only halfway done, but they don't need to be returned to the students until next week. I can breathe easy.

Mostly.

I still can't fully shake off the revelation I had earlier. Akihiko has inadvertently driven wedges between Nowaki and myself before, so it wouldn't be a shock if it happened again. But this subject is a much bigger deal: we're talking the future of our relationship, not just a bit of drama over who had a crush on who seven years ago.

I methodically pack up my things into my shoulder bag.

Maybe…

I pull my coat on, one arm at a time.

…I should try…

I sling the bag up onto my shoulder.

…to get over him.

I stare at my reflection in the now dark office window. I hold my own gaze steadily, but can glean nothing from it.

What do you want? Who do you want?

When I finally leave the office, the university halls are dark. Every third light in the hallways is on, but the classrooms are all dark. I start to walk down the main hall, listening to the quiet click of my shoes on the linoleum floor. Being at the university this late is very peaceful, especially when compared to how chaotic it is during the day. I like it.

I take a left around the next corner and am surprised to see a dim light seeping out into the hall. It's coming from a classroom…but nobody else is supposed to be here. Technically, I'm not really supposed to be here, and I'm a teacher!

I walk cautiously up to the door. Maybe someone just forgot to turn off the light? It wouldn't be the first time. I peek in through the door's narrow window, careful to be slow and quiet so as to not draw attention to myself.

I scan the room, which only has a quarter of its ceiling lights on. Nothing but empty chairs and-

Oh!

My eyes go wide as I spot a figure on the far side of the room. It's a big guy, and his back is turned so that he faces the chalkboard.

Who is that, and what's he doing? He looks sort of hunched over.

Then a pair of arms – belonging to someone much shorter than him – come into view and starts grabbing wildly at his back.

I gasp sharply. An assault?!

I'm about to bust into the room and break up the fight when I realize….

It's not a fight at all.

The two figures turn as my hand reaches the doorknob and I take a closer look at them.

Two people-

Two guys-

Making out-

Light brown hair-

Young kid-

Getting handsy-

Black hair-

Older guy-

Wait a minute-

Miyagi?!

My eyes nearly pop out of my head. This suddenly feels familiar – I remember an instance when I walked in on a similar thing going on with Miyagi.

And that same kid, for that matter!

Only that time there was not nearly as much…contact.

A blush crosses my cheeks when I realize how closely I'm watching them. They're really into it….

Miyagi is roughly pushing the kid back against the instructor's desk that sits a few feet in front of the board, so now he's looking in my direction and the kid's back faces me. Then he hoists the kid up so he's sitting on the table. Then this kid actually wraps his legs around Miyagi. Sheesh, it's not like he's going anywhere….

But then…Miyagi starts pulling the kid's sweater vest off.

I can practically hear a police siren going off in my head. Time to get the hell out of here!

I run all the way from that hallway to the front gates of the school. I'm already branded with "Demon Kamijou," the last thing I need is to get caught and become "Pervert Kamijou!"

When I get outside, I take a moment to catch my breath before heading off in the direction of the train station. Today has just been too much.