I'm tired.
 
I don't want to open my eyes.
 
I don't want to see the gaunt, pallid shell of a man staring back at me in my bathroom mirror. How long has it been since my wife left me? It's an irrelevant detail, I suppose. Time has yet to mend the wounds of my heart. Its every beat saps more of my energy.
 
I open my eyes.
 
Shit. I look terrible. When was the last time I enjoyed a full night of rest? Come to think of it, I haven't been eating well lately. A diet of cigarettes is hardly nutritious. I should work on that.
 
"Ouch." Damn it. According to a certain cheery friend of mine, depression, being a psychosomatic illness, manifests physical symptoms in addition to the malaise. In my case, those symptoms have expressed themselves as a dull, constant ache at the back of my skull. I knock back a couple painkillers, dry. I swallow. A practiced motion, they no longer irritate me on the way down.
 
Breakfast is the usual: cold noodle soup and some black coffee. I watch some television as I slurp back the chewy noodles. They're a little too underdone for my taste. A wry chuckle escapes my lips. Despite my years of experience with bunsen burners and flasks, evidently I still can't boil water. The weather forecast for the rest of the week sounds nice. It'll be warm and sunny. Polishing off the last of the noodles, I recline for a moment and close my eyes. My headache has disappeared. Good.
 
I swallow the dregs of my coffee. It's cold now, but caffeine is still caffeine. I rise and throw on my coat. I do my best to fix my hair on the way out the door, but my locks have more fight in them than I do. No worries, I guess. Crazy hair is an ailment common to men of science. Besides, it could be worse. I could look like Nomiya.
 
I'm slightly later than usual when I enter the front gates of Yamaku. I don't know why, but this place lifts my spirits. Perhaps it's the quiet, unassuming atmosphere that puts me at ease. Maybe it's the students. They always seem pretty cheerful.
 
I wave at the Tezuka girl as I pass her by. She politely waves a limb at me in return without taking her eyes off her mural. Her expression is as unreadable and distant as always.
 
"Good morning, Rin. I hope your mural is going well!" I yell to her as I proceed toward the front entrance.
 
"I hope so too." Not exactly the response I expected, but I'm not sure what I expected in the first place.
 
As I near my classroom, I narrowly dodge our resident speed demon. No matter how many times I scold her about running in the halls, she never seems to learn her lesson.
 
"Ibarazaki, what does Newton's first law state?" I shout as I watch her round a corner. The sound of her rapidly moving prostheses fades into the distance. A moment later I hear a scream and two thuds. Newton's first law at work. The nurse can sort them out. I'll buy him a coffee for his hardship.