Kikyou groaned as she put the term paper down on the table in front of her. "It's not like we've been discussing the history of the Sengoku Era for the last four weeks or anything." How had they spent so much time on the crucial events, and her students were still making modern colloquialisms when it came to travel and technology?

She picked up the next one and scanned the first page before crumpling it in her hand. "I'm going to murder the entire class." She started marking the paper, red streaks colouring each paragraph.

A plate with a chocolate-covered croissant was set down on her table, the movement so fluid that she almost missed it. "Wait!" She turned around in her chair. "I didn't order this."

The barista grinned at her over his shoulder. "It's on the house. Anyone planning mass murder deserves chocolate."

Raising an eyebrow, she eyed the treat, the sweet aroma wafting past her nose. A gurgle sounded from her stomach, and she suddenly realized that she had skipped lunch. The man chuckled softly, and Kikyou tried to hide her blush behind her azure travel mug.

"Let me know if you need anything else," he said, flipping a long braid over his shoulder. "Coffee, sandwich, guillotine."

She chuckled. "No guillotines. They're learning about Japanese history."

"Oh, so a spear or a matchlock gun then?"

Kikyou blinked in surprise, lips curving up into a smile. "Impressive."

He casually restocked the napkins and condiments. "One of my brothers is a weapons buff and likes to talk. A lot."

"So I can come to you when my class tries to convince me that there was nothing but samurai waving around katana, and women could only be housewives or miko?" It should've been a joke, but it came out as a tired sigh instead.

"I mean, I wouldn't be above beheading all of them at that point." He offered her a couple of napkins, then pushed the plate closer to her. "You should probably eat first, though."

"Probably. Thanks, it looks delicious."

He eyed her for a moment, then placed a chocolate kiss on top of her tumbler. "A little something for later as well."

She choked on her laughter. The man looked like he bench-pressed daily, his t-shirt and apron pulled tightly across his chest, but he had chocolate kisses in his pockets?

"Is this how you usually flirt with people?" she asked, eyes lighting up with mirth.

"Maybe," he said with a shrug, trying to brush it off. "Maybe I'm hoping you'll give me a real one later."

Laying her chin in her palm, she gave him a considering look. "Maybe."

His lips pulled back into a roughish grin. "I get off at four if that maybe turns into a yes."

"Guess it'll depend on how good the croissant is."

His smirk never faltered as he walked back to the cashier's desk. "I'm not worried, then."