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One of the best things about having, effectively speaking, two different psyches was that a person could be hugely productive. Half of his attention was solely focused on the pages in front of him, and half of his attention was completely gone. Without thought, Zetsu had allowed his left eye to drift shut, his right darting easily over the words he was writing. It was much easier this way; half of his brain was moving just as calmly as always, and the other half was ticking away the minutes that the blond bomber was late.

Had he been a more single-minded person, he might have brooded over it more. That the boy was like him, like his-- like the little bits of the past that still struck him now and then when the students were particularly animated. How understandable it was to act out, to want something better out of life than the drag that the city instilled into unsullied young minds kept clear of the working life. That trail of unproductive thoughts, thankfully, were sequestered to the tiniest portion of the back of the dean's mind, and completely eliminated as the tardy student slumped into the office unceremoniously.

"Not a good way to start this meeting, is it," he murmured, slowly remembering to open his left eye as he finished the last few thoughts on the record he was correcting.