As the class departed one by one, Kazuki yanked the pole out of the ground before mumbling something inappropriate under her breath. The nerve of the old man. While she wasn’t so much annoyed at being called a sarcastic ghost, she simply didn’t like having task forced upon her. Had it not been out of courtesy for her classmates, the pale deviant would have carried the rod so far up the man’s rear end it would end up piercing that silver tongue of his. The thought entertained her for a mere second before her eyes widened in disgust. What cruel, heartless soul would do such a thing to a poor old man? A playful smile danced across her face as she trailed after the group. Senseless violence was a thing of the past. -- When they had arrived at the classroom, Kazuki had been the second to last to enter the room. Standing by the doorway it seemed as if she was examining the beautiful exotic classroom around her, when in truth she was simply listening intently to the fit of coughing outside. She didn’t derive any sickly pleasure from listening to the girl hack up a lung, but it did soothe her curiosity towards the individual quite well. Of course, as a given, all observations and opinions were kept strictly to herself and perhaps shared with whatever stray animal wandered near her house at night. As to those prying individuals, she had a way of making people stay away. Remembering the bastard’s request, she walked silently to the closet before opening its doors. To her surprise, inside the storage space rested a healthy teen male. She raised a brow in fascination before she tossed the flag mindlessly inside and shut the door. She was glad it had been her to find the boy in there, as any other individual would have succumbed to the temptation of various tasteless puns and jokes. It also saved her from a possible heart attack when he burst out of the closet and introduced himself as Shourei Yang, an anal lover. She held her breath as her palm greeted her forehead in obvious frustration. This idiot was making it too easy. How did he survive all this time? Not to mention he had cut off the bottle blonde with her bodacious swimsuit bod. Apparently her name wasn’t Miss Wonderbra, but instead Ami Yukimura. Extremely mannered compared to the imbecile that went before her, but as if the bleach had soaked into her brain, her naïve and almost non-sensible definition of love had marked Shourei as somewhat intelligent. She was barely able to contain her sigh of despair as she grouped herself with the anal-freak. There had been such hope… The runt that went next was surprisingly cute. His careless slip of tongue toyed with her curiosity the same way a stray dog with a limp did. She wouldn’t dig too much, after all, she herself knew some things are better left in the closet of the past. Like Shourei. The runt named Shadouu Iruda, also gave a generic runt definition of love. The little runt had been promoted to slightly cordial runt. She was almost tempted to throw him some scraps of food. She had a soft spot for the less fortunate. Then there was there late and mysterious silent type, who seemed polite and formal enough to bask in shame for his tardiness. Sparing him the burden of another set of prying eyes, Kazuki stared at the sickly girl who introduced herself as Kenko Ikioi. Her ideology for love was practical. So practical in fact, it seemed to offset her bubbly tone, but that was likely to just have been the cough. All in all, a blooming young flora. Then came Ren Akimoto. She shifted in her seat. To be honest, she housed no ill-will towards him, save for his disgusting scent. Wealth had a way of corroding people in ways invisible to them. Under the wealthy, everything was perverted. The mind, the soul, the body, but most of all the will. All stripped away slowly dollar by dollar, cent by cent. To be fair, it was a naïve and dangerous interpretation of wealth, especially in modern society, but it was something she adopted with a patient fervor. Everyone had something they hated in life, and well, she hated money. It was for this reason she hated the Akimoto in general. While she had no reason to hate Ren as a person, she knew it would only be a matter of time. Not to mention the boy before her seemed surprisingly haughty, even in his modesty. Then there was the foreigner, Indigo Q’loer. Like Ami, he was vested towards Creative Writing. He also shared a relatively naïve notion of love, although it was relatively more cohesive in derivation than the bottle blonde’s. All in all it was a fair interpretation as long as he accepted there was nothing such a true love. Hell, even Ami’s definition could be justified if she knew deep down there was nothing known as true love. The room was quiet for a few minutes as the girl stared mindlessly out the window, trying to figure out what she thought love was. It was always so easy to judge others… Plastering on a small smile, she silently stood from her seat. [b]“Oshita Kazuki, 20 years old, pursuing a major in Sports Administration and a minor in Philosophy,” [/b]folding her legs under the desk, she leaned forward before examining the desk. [b]“Love is something to be created, not found. It is similar to perfection, something that everyone pursues but rarely able to obtain,”[/b] As she looked up, her eyes revealed that she was somewhat uncomfortable with speaking to a group. Her slightly upturned eyes, softened her somewhat usually harsh presence. [b]“...and thus deception is born.”[/b] The deception of self and the deception of others. In the end, it is simply throwing in the towel and accepting to work with what you have. [b]“At least, that’s what I think.”[/b]