<br/><strong>Name:Mitsu Fukui</strong><br/><strong>Location:In class at the  DWMA</strong><br/><strong>Tagged:Maysaki Yasuo</strong><br/><hr/><br/><em>"Oh dear...please don't make a scene...don't destroy the desk!"</em><br/><br/>She frantic thoughts danced through her head.  The last time he had messed up a desk, she had spent a hour after class with some sandpaper to try and get the marks out.  Not that she had been asked to of course.  But out of respect for the school, she had done what she could to fix it up.  This time it had not been that bad and she hoped it would go unnoticed.<br/><br/>While the other two students might not notice her, she did feel the need to apologize for his slight outburst.  She did so by taking a few frantic and respectful bows in their general direction, while saying something so fast that it was hard to hear exactly what she had said.<br/><br/>"HaiSorryaboutthat, hedidn'tmeannothingbyitImMitsunicetomeyou!sorry!"<br/><br/>She then slumped back in her chair, no longer with her book since after it had been lowered she had dropped it on the floor.  She had not been this embarrassed by him in about a week so she was probably overdue for that event.  She just sighed a little and responded.<br/><br/>"Hardly...I mean with all the studying and schoolwork, and my music lessons...and besides. I like getting up early. And how can you tell what I'm doing.  You sit there squinting, I didn't think you could see anything but...fine...nevermind. Just...forget it for now.<br/><br/>She sighed and attempted to recover her book, bending over at the waist to do so, her hair fell over her face and her over sized sweater nearly fell over her head while she struggled to get the book back.  When she did she moaned lightly when she noticed the newly placed sticky-notes had fallen out in a yellow shower on the floor.  Sometimes she really wondered how seriously he took his studies.  All nighters did not a successful student make.<br/>There was some wisdom in having strongly differing personalities between Weapon and Miester, history had shown that.  But it was really rough in the beginning.  The blush still had not left her face, predictably as she brushed and smoothed her hair, muttering as she tried to readjust her ribbons.