Seeker of the True Dark

@wayfoundwarrior

Shifting aside another graded assignment, Xehanort let out a quiet grumble of frustration at the continuing lack of effort that his students put in to his class. So many of them held grand notions of what his profession was, but weren’t willing to put in the effort they needed to show to reach that point. The few that were...were painfully naive and completely unaware of the sacrifices and risks that one needed to take to make it in the world. 

One in particular always seemed to earn his ire. Her seemingly tireless optimism, the shining outlook she held on life and on human history, grated infinitely on his nerves. And, of course, her constant badgering and the near perfectionism she put into every movement...

The only thing that he could liken his feelings to would be the desire that someone feels when they see perfectly still water. He wanted to be the one to cast a stone into it and watch the ripples destroy that stillness, that perfection.

Drawn from his thoughts by a knock on the door of his office, the professor lifted his head to look to the door. At this hour, there could be only one student still on the campus, and willing to so brazenly interrupt him. Muttering to himself quietly before calling out to the door, he made certain to shift all of his papers to the side and out of direct line of sight.

Letting out a quiet sigh and placing down the last of his grading for the night, Xehanort moved the stack of papers to the other side of his desk before leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes.

The only downside of assigning so much work to the brats in his classes was how much work he had to then grade and hand back. It was mindnumbing work and always made him long for the feeling of the desert sun beating down on him as he worked with his intellectual ‘equals’ to uncover new information about bygone civilizations, digging up their lost relics and displaying them for all the world to see. It was more exciting by far, and made him feel far more alive.

Still...the University helped to keep him living in comfort between expeditions, so he couldn’t complain overmuch. If anything...his complaints would have to be focused on his troublemaking, good-for-nothing nephew.

“...speaking of which...”

It was just about that time. Reaching across his desk to the old landline phone that he had refused to replace, the professor quickly tapped out a familiar number on the worn keypad and placed the phone to his ear. The moment that the familiar voice rang out, he let out a quiet sigh.

Of course...that was a foolish desire. He would lose the only thing that staved off the encroaching hell of the between-expedition tedium. And so, opening the door of his classroom and taking slow, measured steps towards the lecture stand at the front of the room, he turned to face the familiar faces of his students. When he spoke, his voice was as gravelly and croaking as his physical stature would suggest, but he had no trouble raising its volume so that he would be heard even at the very back of the room.

“Good morning class. As you all should remember, I assigned you a paper last week in which you needed to draw from my lecture on the evolution of western economic systems as they have developed in the last hundred years. I’d like you to hand them in before we continue on with today’s lecture. After that, I’ll be showing you all slides from my most recent expedition and having you do an image study based off of them, due at the end of the class.”

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