IGNORANTIA (Dark Academia!Wesper AU)

acht

It's very obvious that finals are coming up next month. The homework load for every class has nearly doubled, and I'm just in music classes; I couldn't even imagine what it's like to major in something academic.

Because of this, we've rarely had the entire group show up for the internship program. And even when we did, the discussion was always around Professor So-and-So's most recent assignment, or student hours for Professor This-and-That. I shouldn't have been so surprised that they were all studying for some type of science degree. In a weird way, it makes me feel even better when I figure out problems in our work when they can't.

Only Kuwei and I show up this week. We sit at our usual table, Callaghan grading papers in his little corner. It's uncomfortably silent. The lamp at our table's flickering, turning the books beside us yellow in its light. Kuwei leans over his notes like he's just one line away from success, but I know that's not true; balled up papers litter the floor around him. Meanwhile I just have to sit there and pretend to look busy. Without anyone to read the notes out loud for the group, I'm stuck with a textbook I can't read.

Professor Callaghan sighs, and sets his pen down.

"You two are free to go," he says. "We'll reconvene next week when everyone else can be here."

"Are you sure?" I ask. "It's really no big deal—"

"No, no, go work on things for your other classes," he says dismissively. "I know it's difficult to focus when you have other priorities."

Callaghan doesn't seem happy about this decision, but I'd rather be at home than here any day of the week. I grab my bag from underneath the lab table and shoulder it. Kuwei doesn't move. I lightly kick his foot, and he looks up.

"I think Callaghan's trying to kick us out," I say to him gently. That's something I've had to learn about Kuwei; his mind is never present. He tends to get lost in his own head, and if someone doesn't verbally tell him to leave, he might just stay in here until class the next morning.

"Hm?" says Kuwei. He looks up at me, then back at his work. He looks panicked.

"Is everything okay?"

He pushes his hair back with an ink-stained hand. "Yeah, I just... I can't stop now. I can't, I just—"

"Hey, it'll be okay," I say. "I think the library's still open if you want to go there and finish up."

He looks at me again, golden eyes nearly yellow in this light. "Will you come with me?"

What I really want to do is go back to my room, maybe make a nice tea in the kitchen, and put on a record I bought recently at the music store down the street. The last thing I want to do is stay at the library with someone I only feel mildly interested in being around. But what kind of person would that make me?

"Of course," I say. I'm not an asshole.

No, I'm really not. I don't care what anyone says about me. I may think like an ass, but since I don't act upon those ideas, I'm not all that bad a person. I think.

We pack up our stuff and leave. I wave goodbye to Callaghan, and he gives his usual nod of farewell. It's quiet tonight — eerily so. Where is everyone? It's not that late into the night.

I'm expecting Kuwei to talk — there's nothing he loves more than talking about how great he is — but he's too busy reading again. He's been like this ever since we first started working the project, and yet he never actually contributes to the team. I've been told that his notes are detailed and "exquisitely beautiful" (Patton's words, not mine) but he never turns them in. Someone always has to ask to peek at what he's working on for him to give in.