“Or as many stars that spy the secret love affairs of men, when the night is silent.” Rei Yoshino paused, the last word hanging on her lips and filling the space of her exhale. A small smile, like she’d just divulged her own secret, and then she brought up her coffee cup and let the rest of the poem float on the steam. She glanced across the table at Kitato, inclining her head. The sunlight through the window cut a brilliant shard across her face, illuminating one dark iris in rust hues. “You’ve read up for class, right?” she set her cup down and leaned over to press a kiss to Nahoya’s temple. “It’ll be fun. I’m glad you registered.” She said as she stood.<br/><br/>She was quick out the door, calling something chipper over her shoulder that neither of the men at the table would have caught in its entirety. Rei had been planning her course content for the better part of the last semester. She’d been so eager, her advisor had taken pity on her and pulled her aside one morning, to warn her of the demoralizing truth that was student apathy. It didn’t matter how much she loved her work. The students were overwhelmingly uninterested in courses like this. It required them to have and express original thoughts. An unpopular requirement of summer classes. She should be glad if one, or two, were engaged in the lessons. Rei had nodded, understanding, but not quite taking the advice to heart. She was, as many young educators had once been, delightfully optimistic.<br/><br/>She swept into the empty classroom with that fresh optimism. A thin blouse under a navy jacket, matched tones on her tailored, knee-length skirt. She had been proud of looking the part. She’d arrived a half hour early, arranging her notes on her desk and surveying the empty chairs with a flutter of excitement. This was how she’d always pictured herself. The respectable professor. It was quiet. Rei glanced at the wall clock. She adjusted her jacket. Her confidence faltered slightly. The air was still and warm. She could hear the light fixture buzzing. She sent Nahoya a message.<i>I’m glad Kitato is going to be in class. If I’m being honest, I’m getting a little nervous.</i><br/><br/>When the first students filed in, she was fast to her feet. Her enthused greetings were met with half-hearted smiles and off-handed complaints about the temperature. Rei kept a pleasant smile at the ready and gave her best self-introduction. She faltered briefly at the front of the room when there was little response. A girl in the front row tugged at her collar. A boy in the third row patted at his brow. She sighed. Kitato hadn't arrived.<br/><br/>She shoved upward, hard, and the window finally budged. It slammed with a bang as it was thrust open. One of the nearby students visibly jumped in their seat. Rei cleared her throat and offered an apologetic smile. At the very least, “Please bear with me, I realize it’s quite hot.” She ran her fingers thought her hair—short and curling at the ends—raking the dark strands back from her forehead as if that might alleviate the oppressive humidity. She could feel the sweat beading on her forehead and the nape of her neck. It was fortunate that Rei had the sort of face that flushed an even and pleasant pink across her cheeks. She took a deep breath and grabbed her notes from her desk.<br/><br/>In the second row, a boy was fanning himself with a notebook and sliding so low in his chair she thought he might fall. “Alright. Well, let’s begin. Presuming you’ve all already read the assigned pieces for class, let’s turn to the third selection and jump straight in… that is Catullus seven. Quaeris, quot mihi basiationes…” Rei began. Her eyes sparkled as she read, like she was caught on a Mediterranean breeze rather than suffering the thick heat of the room. Animated, with her free hand gesturing and her heels punctuating the syllables with a metronome rhythm, she paced the front of the room. When she passed near the door, she paused to hit the light switch. It was hardly a reprieve, but it crossed her mind that it might keep the room a bit cooler. And, perhaps, a bit of drama to the reading. In her head, this was the way to spark engagement. How could they not be sucked in by Catullus' passion? She'd pictured this several times already. She'd read them the poem. They'd be delighted by the emotion. Then, when they proceeded to the translation, they'd tell her how they'd been struck by the poem's cleverness and timeless relevance. They'd tell her they'd been eager to discuss the work.<br/><br/>And yet, Rei was immediately disappointed when she looked up.<br/><br/>The students were preoccupied and glassy-eyed. There were at least four with their cheeks pressed to their desks, savoring the cool surfaces. The boy with his notebook had slouched until his head was propped against the top of his seat back. The apathy was palpable. Rei’s gaze darted around the room.<br/><br/>In the second row, far right, there was an empty desk. When she frowned, she frowned at that seat in particular. Kitato should have been there. She realized she was floundering of her own accord, but it felt a little like he'd abandoned her. She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. A ridiculous thought, but there were moments when a familiar face meant a lot.<br/><br/>“Yuri, can you please give us the translation? You’ll find it listed at the bottom of the page.” She set her papers down on her desk with a smart little snap, slipped out of her coat, and shrugged her thin blue blouse back on her shoulders. She couldn’t really blame them for being listless, but she hated to see a semester start this way.  She settled on the  edge of her desk, hands in her lap. The lanky boy stood with effort and complied after a long and breathy sigh. It might be miserable in this stuffy little room, but Rei was determined to drum up some enthusiasm. When Kenji finished, trailing off and sitting before he’d quite mumbled the last line, she folded her arms across her chest. “We begin our course with Catullus and his cheeky lover, another man’s wife, in the throes of their affair.”