Encounter the Third

At first, she had been frightened. Now she was simply annoyed.

“Why are you following me?” She rounded angrily on the sword-wielding maniac who had been all but glued to her side since that morning, glaring daggers at him as he looked upon her with an amused smirk. “Do you know how creepy that is, to have you follow me on the streets, get on my bus, and stalk me to my classes? Daily?! And WHY are you carrying that stupid sword?!” Juri was enraged. Terrified, confused, baffled, but most definitely enraged above all else. What was wrong with this man?

After his initial comment on the bus that first morning, he had said nothing more to her, but continued to sit at her side like some mocking statue. Soon, he was there every day, and apparently the new semester caused him to take it just one step further. When she had arrived at campus that day, he had departed as well, walking side-by-side without saying a word. He had followed her across the lawns, through the student union, and into an academic building and her lecture hall where the first day of class was supposed to begin within the next ten minutes.

That was when she had turned on him. Even the well-polished sword strapped to his hip, the same one that had first united them on the streets one day several months before, did not deter her, so great was her ire.

“You’re upset,” was his measured reply, accompanied by that normal smirk, amusement alight in his eyes.

Juri nearly lunged.

Using all her will to hold herself in check, she closed her eyes and pressed a thumb to the bridge of her nose. “You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care. Just… Just go away. I’m going to sit down and you’re going to go away.” And with that she turned her back on him, walked down the isle, and seated herself amidst a spotting of students in the third row of the hall. To her surprise and delight, he did, indeed, disappear.

She sighed heavily in relief, slumping in her chair, and pulled out her notebook, ready to begin the new semester. Maybe she had gotten through to him. Maybe he would finally leave her alone now. Maybe–

“Good Morning, Everyone. Welcome to Feudal History: A Study of Japanese Culture. If you are unfamiliar with this class title, I would suggest finding a different room to sit in, as you will be assimilated into my ranks otherwise. Good? Good. Now then, this,” the ring of unsheathed metal vibrated through the air, “is a 13th-Century Japanese katana. Yes, it’s very valuable. No, you can’t touch it.”

–Maybe God hated her.

There he stood, his coat strewn across the teacher’s desk, standing before them with that sword brandished proudly, staring pointedly at her.

When their eyes met, he grinned.

Yes, God definitely hated her.

~ by eeratka on October 8, 2007.