☆ prideful demon instructor ☆

... This year, I need to be more honest about my feelings instead of letting Nowaki... do... everything.

I'm just thinking I should say that...

It's funny how despite all the frickin' crap that goes on in this place, you don't forget about the normal things... like oseibo gift-giving. Even if it's a bit too late for it, and even if there isn't anyone to actually be thanking for the past year.... I better do it anyway.

I want to go home, dammit.

One for that idiot friend of mine, Akihiko; for not being as annoying as he was last year. One for the Professor... it's not a whole year, but close. One for Nowaki... that goes without saying.

I might as well get something for the that kid and Kaidou-san too.

Great. There must be something against me somewhere up there. Fuck it.

Just leave me the hell alone. I'm sick.

I swear, if this fucking curse doesn't go away with all these noisy idiots all over the friggin place, I will start throwing books at them.

Still no Nowaki. I'll give it a year-- what the hell am I thinking? He's fine. I'm fine. It shouldn't even bloody well matter!

No. Calm down. Devil Kamijo. Devil Kamijo--

I remember getting this particular sickness before. Red spots, huh? Chicken pox, huh?

Meh.

For some reason, I have this huge... urge... to talk about how I almost died under a big mountain of my books. What the hell? This... this is probably a curse, isn't it? Or maybe I'm just dying of loneliness. Fuck.

Back then, I was living alone, of course! Shelves were functional and all, but for a bachelor living in a bachelor's apartment, they took up far too much space-- and really, I only needed one bookshelf for Akihiko's books. I was organizing them one day, alphabetically, and then I think I misjudged the balance of one stack then... of course it wobbled like hell and bam--

What? Of course it missed me.

That's the reason my first edition How the Panda Thinks About his Spots has some cuff damage on its cover, though.

Don't laugh. I'm not... doing this because I want to.

It's not so bad... saying that.

WHAT THE HELL AM I THINKING?

THIS IS BAD.

I finally got enough courage to visit that Hall of the Missing everyone mentions one fucking way or another. That idiot is there. Fucking bastard, leaving me behind here. I know it's been over a friggin' week already, but... with his job and mine, it's not like that's been such a long time for us.

I... I'm beginning to understand what the hell drives Akihiko and even the Professor to chain smoke their lungs into unhealthy coals of black. I think I'll sleep on the sofa tonight.

God, I need a voice of reason tonight. Somebody who will fucking remind me why smoking is bad for you. And why only idiots like Bakahiko and a certain professor do it.

Nowaki isn't here. Either he... didn't make it. Or he didn't want to come back.

What the hell am I thinking? I didn't fucking want to come back.

I will not be a fucking idiot. If the idiot wants to stay there then what the hell. He can do as he likes!

BAKAHIKO. WHY THE HELL ARE THERE PORNOGRAPHIC PICTURES OF YOU AND YOUR BOYTOY ON MY BED. I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU HAVE HOBBIES THAT ARE ECCENTRIC - no... not even just eccentric anymore! BUT THIS IS OUR MY ROOM, AND MY APARTMENT, AND MY. FUCKING. BED.

You better not have. I'm telling you, Bakahiko. You better not have.