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He'd lost it.

He'd lost the bloody paper, and what was most deeply frustrating is that he was damned sure he'd left it on the table. Frowning, Rohan looked at the chaos upon the table in question; old parchments, books and folders were littered here and there. It was near impossible to tell what was contained in the space. Some of the table's content had even dropped to floor during his previous search for the damned paper, which now lay in disarray, scattered everywhere.

He was thankful he had this section mostly to himself though; most of the girls in the academy avoided the darker section of the library like the plague. There were rumors of ghosts haunting that section, though truth be told Rohan had taken almost permanent residence within that area and he'd yet to stumble upon a specter of any sort.

All that the section contained were books. And dust. There was also a run down, old computer which didn't even look like it belonged within the prestigious academy, given the quality of the machines over within the more populated sections of the library. Then again, this section was within the basement, and most of the books within them were so old, they had gathered ounces of dust upon them due to the fact they hadn't even been grabbed in a long time. The books were outdated, some in dead languages, and some were simply of no use.

Rohan thought otherwise though. Not only could he pretty much hole up within the section without fear of being found (or so he thought anyhow - he figured that if the rumors of ghosts didn't keep the girls away, sure the dust and mites would; most of the girls minded their looks and wouldn't have been caught dead a mile away from dust and grime), but he could find startling treasures every once in a while. Of course, then again, Rohan's definition of treasure happened to be old books that no one but he seemed to even care about.

Alas, to each their own.

He'd made the place his home of sorts when he wasn't back in his room, and it was perhaps that sense of security that had lulled him enough to lose track of that paper. He'd been keeping notes of what he'd found out after a few weeks of working within the school - habits, strange conversations, etc, in hopes of perhaps unmasking a senshi. He really did not want to have to explain to anyone why he was keeping such notes, "Where is that blasted paper?" he murmured sounding annoyed as he dropped down to all four in an attempt to see if perhaps it had blown under the table, his clothes be damned.

Needless to say, the very last thing Rohan had been expecting... had been a voice to interrupt him. Upon Khalla's question, he found himself stiffening while still under the table. This inevitably caused him to hit his head with a resounding 'thunk', which was followed by a yelp of pain and what might have been a murmured curse - it was hard to tell.

After a few seconds, he finally withdrew himself from under the blasted table to peek over it's surface in an attempt to see whom it was had interrupted him. His eyes fell upon a familiar face and he let out a grimace and a sigh, more because he couldn't even find the will to be mad at the girl; it hadn't even been her fault, "Miss Anselm," he said as he stood up, brushing his clothes off. Not that it did much good - he'd been hunting the room like a tiger for the past hour and that meant a good deal of the dust had transferred over to him... not to mention the fact that his normally wild hair was even more in disarray, and so were his clothes. All in all, it looked more like he'd been wrestling a mortal enemy than looking for a piece of paper.

Blasted piece of paper.

"Did you... need something?" it was actually rather clear that he was out of his comfort zone; he really hadn't expected anyone to seek him out down here. The thought was horribly off putting and he had to keep himself from thinking about possibly barricading the damned entrance with books next time in an attempt to keep everyone out.

He knew perfectly well how he looked, however, he also understood that there was simply no way to fix his appearance in such short notice and that all attempts to do so were futile, so thus, why bother? He passed a hand through his wild hair though, in an attempt to get the bangs out of his face, blowing them away as he did so; his pony tail had become undone. While he waited for her to explain herself, he reached up and redid the skull clasp that held his hair back.

"Ah," he said as he finished with his hair, nodding for her to take a seat at the table (even if it WAS difficult to see the actual table under the mess of papers that were spread on it), "Is there a problem with the essay?" it would have surprised him if there were, for she'd proved herself efficient in class quite a few times before. Her following words made him arch a brow, "Extension?" he said the word as if he were tasting it. Either that, or he was trying to figure out why a straight A student might need an extension for a paper that due due within a couple of days from now - she still had plenty of time.

After a long pause, during which he regarded her carefully, he let out a sigh, "Might I pry as to what... unexpected circumstances are keeping you from completing the assignment? Are you under the weather? Usually when you ask for an extension you give me a reason - I'm noting that this time you're... lacking an explanation?" another pause, "Is there something you don't understand about the essay in question, or do you need help with it?" the idea sounded ridiculous, but he was mildly curious. By all means, he should have given her the extension and shoved her out of the bloody room, but in a strange way, he half wanted to make her wiggle uncomfortably for interrupting him. That, and he really should ask for an explanation - otherwise everyone and their mothers would barge down here to ask him for one too.

An explanation simply gave him an excuse to dump on others if they dared ask. Oh, god, he hoped people come down here wasn't going to become a habit.

He watched as she sat down, internally amused that she was in fact, visibly having to refrain from putting order to chaos in the room. It wasn't her face that gave her away but possibly mild hesitation to sit down and the slight twitch of her hands.

Unfortunately for her, he rather liked his chaos and could always find s**t just where he'd left it. Well, almost always; he really should go back to trying to find that bloody, sodding paper. He refrained a sigh of frustration, but soon enough figured that if they stayed still and didn't move shizz around, there was little chance the girl would stumble across such incriminatory notes.

That and he was going to STAY in that godforsaken library till daylight broke if necessary. He wasn't going to leave till he found his damned notepad, and then he was possibly going to grab some sort of chain and tie the notes to his person like some sort of umbilical cord. That would make sure he never lost it again, "Personal issues?" he pulled out a chair and sat down across from her, reaching out to easily toss a mass of papers to the floor, clearing most of the desk in the process, "Don't worry about the papers - I plan on wreaking havoc on this office before I leave," he mentioned as an afterthought, just in case she thought he was utterly out of his mind by now. Which he probably was. But that was beside the point, "Miss Anselm..." he began with a sigh, reaching up with a hand to rub the bridge of his nose, "It would be easier for me to just grant you the extension - it would get you out of here swiftly so I could continue doing what I should be doing and it would give me less work," it was obvious though that as much as he wanted to do just that... he couldn't, or wouldn't, "But... I can't grant it to you. Because the moment I do, everyone and their mothers are going to charge down those stairs, seek me out, and ask for extensions too. I will need some sort of... ahhhh... note from your parents, or family or whatever, explaining these personal reasons."

A pause followed as he looked her over, "I know you're a straight A student and I know you have perfectly legit reasons but... I also know the people that are going to seek me out probably do not have reasons and are not straight A students. I can't make exceptions," and here was the bit which he was obviously going to regret later - he just knew it, but it seemed like the easiest way to avoid a horde of students and give her what she wanted, more or less, "I can, however, offer you assistance and pointers - if you came down here tomorrow or any day after whenever you need an extension due to... personal reasons. I can help you with the essay at hand."

And that obnoxious voice at the back of his mind was telling him he was really, really, really going to regret this.

He was a tad busy having a mental, internal debate with himself, trying to figure out the pros and cons of what he'd just offered himself up to do when her voice cut through his thoughts. Rohan blinked out of whatever daze he'd submerged into and looked across the table at the girl in front of him; good lord, the girl looked like she'd fought a losing battle with karma and luck, really. Aside from the fact that his proposition had been the only middle ground he'd found, he really actually did feel sort of sorry for her, "Really," he found himself frowning as he spoke, almost as if unsure of why she was asking for confirmation; after all he'd just TOLD her he'd do it. There was no further need to pry.

As if her previous question weren't enough, the girl actually thought it was necessary to ask a second time, causing him to squirm in his seat uncomfortably. For some odd reason, now that she was drawing attention to the fact that This Was A Big Deal, it was making him horribly uncomfortable. Was it really that big a deal? It was sort of his job, anyhow. It wasn't his fault that most of the pupils chose NOT to seek him out (well, okay, it sort of was his fault - if he could, he'd have built up some sort of impenetrable fortress of pillows and paper around his office).

He was just doing his job.

Riiiiiiiiiiight.

"Yes," he was trying VERY hard to take importance out of the whole ordeal, really he was, but she was making it hard for him to do so, "Fourth period would be fine. I'm not expected anywhere till 6th period and..." he looked around the office with hooded eyes, "I have no prior appointments," he sounded rather pleased with that fact, actually - he was glad that he was being left alone, "I would rather if you didn't breathe a word of this to others. I would prefer if I didn't have a whole hoard of people knocking on my proverbial door, asking for help."

He watched her for a long moment, narrowing his eyes at her, as if wondering why the hell he was even doing this for her, but then seemed to brush away whatever thoughts he'd been forming in his mind, "Good," he murmured, then pushed his chair away from the table, allowing himself to get up so he could continue searching for his missing paper and notebook.

It wasn't till she spoke again that he realized she was still there and was probably waiting to be dismissed. Turning his head, Rohan arched a brow at her, as if silently asking her why she was still in his make-shift study, and then nodded, "That would be lovely, Miss Anselm..." short of telling the girl to leave, he had no idea what to say, and somehow it felt wrong to tell her so plainly to exit, "I'll see you later then?" and that said he turned back to the chaos in the room, no doubt planning to turn the place upside down if necessary.

It just wouldn't do to misplace such important study-notes. Just in case she was still waiting for a vocal dismissal, he waved a hand at her from his position the floor again.