He couldn't do this.

He took a deep breath, let it out. Eyes closed, he knelt in the center of the floor and tried not to think. He took another breath, letting it out only when his lungs were completely full. The mat pressed against his knees, his ankles, the tops of his feet. His hands rested on his thighs, palms against the bracers of his training uniform and fingers slightly curled.

He breathed in. The air was cool against his bare feet. He breathed out. He could feel his hair resting against his skin, the weight of his eyelids against his face. He breathed in, noticing the wrinkle in his sleeve between his upper arm and his ribs. He breathed out, aware of the almost inaudible hum of generators even here.

Taking another breath, he hesitated over the idea of allowing thoughts into his mind once more. But that was all it took, that moment of uncertainty, and there they were in front of him again. Reluctantly, he considered the problem again.

Yes, he was calmer. No, he wasn't going to run screaming from the grounds. But otherwise, nothing had changed. He couldn't do this, he didn't want to do it, and agreeing to be involved in any way had been a huge mistake.

He had gotten used to having time to himself. He had gotten used to making choices that didn't affect anyone else. He had gotten used to a certain level of competence from those around him, hard as that was to believe. Which wasn't to say that all of that was gone, but it was certainly... reduced. Greatly reduced.

He felt like a prisoner. He hadn't left the Academy grounds since the new students arrived. The only block of free time he had longer than a hour was barely enough to sleep in. Sometimes even that was devoted to the mandatory patrol rotation or the supervision of some Academy-sponsored social event. He was always, always on call.

The first week it had been a challenge: one that he had enjoyed meeting, in fact. Between the influx of new students, the lack of appropriate accommodations, and the reorganization of a staff that had been decimated by Lothor's attack, the chaos that typified the grounds lately had in many ways eclipsed the larger concerns. He did have some administrative experience, and if there was one thing he knew very well, it was how to get things done. He had let the logistics of the Academy be the only thing he worried about.

Now, as they reached the end of the second week of "normal" operation at the Wind Academy, it was becoming painfully clear just how far they still had to go. The psychological trauma of ninjas who had not only been imprisoned but had lost an entire year of their lives with no way to get word to those they loved was not something to be taken lightly. The construction of new facilities on a devastated site that had been allowed to grow wild for a year was made more complicated by the fact that said site and facilities were not supposed to exist in the first place.

And finally, the head teacher was about to have a nervous breakdown. He really had no idea what he was going to do. He had no time for anything outside the Academy, in truth wasn't even sure that a world still existed outside of the Academy grounds. The holographic shield that concealed their presence also interfered with radio signals, so unless he was in Ninja Ops with a direct satellite linkup, he had no contact with the outside world at all.

If he admitted it to himself, though, that wasn't even what bothered him the most. What bothered him, other than the all-consuming nature of the work, was how familiar all this seemed. Strange, given the upheaval of the past year, that anything about this could be familiar. But it was, and it bothered him. Sudden responsibility aside, it was almost as though the Rangers had never happened, and he was back at school with nothing more to look forward to or care about than he had ever had.

Not that he had ever felt like he lacked something to look forward to, or to care about, for that matter. But after the last year... well, the grounds, the formality, the routine that had once been known and reassuring was now old and stifling. He hadn't realized how much he had changed until he was forced back into the place he'd used to be--with a different title, maybe, but a role that was disturbingly familiar nonetheless.

He was the sensei's son. He always had been, and while he had sometimes enjoyed the authority it gave him, he had never appreciated just how limiting it was until this past year. With the Rangers, he felt like he had finally grown out of that and into something he could call his own.

Was that gone, now? That identity he had found? Had he given it up by agreeing to remain on the grounds of the Wind Academy after the school was reestablished? Was that why Hunter had pushed him to get out, to leave while he still could--because he knew what would happen? How quickly "Cam" would become "Cameron" again, whether he wanted to or not?

He hadn't seen Hunter since the day next year's students were admitted for testing. Not that it mattered. He didn't know why he was even thinking about it. Him. He wasn't thinking about Hunter, not really... just about something Hunter had said. That was totally different.

He sighed, clenching his fingers around his bracers and then deliberately relaxing them, trying to regain the slow rhythm of conscious breathing. He was thinking about Hunter. He'd been thinking about Hunter a lot lately, to tell the truth. With all the activity, the frenetic schedule, the million other things that should be distracting him, he found there was at least one thing he couldn't forget. Paradoxically, the crazier things got, the more he thought about Hunter.

Letting out his breath in exasperation, he gave up and pushed himself to his feet. This was going nowhere, and apparently he was as calm as he was going to get. Which, unfortunately, wasn't all that calm. If he was lucky, it would be enough to get him through the afternoon lessons. He should be able to come up with an excuse for skipping supper, even if it meant going without food--he was at the point where peace of mind was more important than a full stomach.

He had made it halfway across the room before he realized there was someone in the doorway. So much for ninja reflexes. It took his brain another long moment to recognize Hunter, and he stopped where he was and stared. Because "Hunter" and "here"... it just didn't make sense to his admittedly overworked brain.

"Surprise." Hunter's offhanded greeting was as careless as ever, but he didn't move from the doorway. He was actually leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a decidedly guarded look in his eyes. He didn't look at all sure of his welcome.

"What are you doing here?" It was the first question he could get his mind around, and he regretted its harshness the moment it was out. He didn't know whether to apologize or take it back or just plow on, so he ended up saying nothing.

The corner of Hunter's mouth lifted in a familiar smirk, and he jerked his chin in Cam's direction. "Wondering what your students think of that uniform, for one thing."

Cam looked down automatically, despite the fact that he knew perfectly well what he was wearing. It was his training uniform, the one the other Rangers had made for him when he first got his powers. It was standard ninja gear, except for the Samurai badges... and the green trim.

"Heard you got promoted," Hunter offered, when he didn't answer right away. "Guess we're even now, huh?"

He hadn't been promoted. He had never been a teacher to begin with, not like Hunter. He had gone directly from Samurai Ranger to head ninja teacher, and the change was not only disconcerting but overwhelming.

"You don't look very happy to see me," Hunter observed at last. He still hadn't moved, and it was hard to tell whether that was disappointment or annoyance in his tone. "Did Tor tell you I was coming?"

He shook his head, trying to remember the last time he had seen Tori. Yesterday at supper, he thought. Why hadn't Hunter tried to tell him instead of Tori?

"You're a hard person to catch up with these days," Hunter answered, as though he had asked the question aloud. "I left a message with Tor because no one else was too sure they could find you. Don't you eat?"

Not if he could help it. Teachers were encouraged to eat with the students, and after dealing with people the entire rest of the day, meals were just too much. He avoided them whenever he could, which wasn't even as often as he would have liked.

"Look, if I'm talking to myself here," Hunter began.

"No," Cam said hastily, wishing there was any way he could communicate what he was thinking without coming off as a total basket case. "You're not, I'm just--I'm just tired. It's hard to think. I'm glad to see you."

That should make his tiredness excuse more plausible, he thought with a wince. He never would have said that if he'd been thinking. Hunter looked surprised, but not displeased.

"Yeah?" he asked, pushing away from the doorframe. "Same here. You got stuff to do this afternoon?"

"I always have stuff to do," he retorted, a little more sharply than he meant to.

"You know what I mean," Hunter snapped. "If you don't want to hang out you could just say so. It's not like I don't understand the word 'no'."

"If that's true, then you give up easier than you used to," Cam shot back.

Hunter glared at him. "What's up with you? I thought I knew all the stages of Tired Cam, but Cryptic, Repressed, Vaguely Hostile Cam hasn't made an appearance for a while. You want to explain that one?"

Insults notwithstanding, even buried under all of Hunter's adjectives, it was nice to be just "Cam" for a while. He couldn't suppress the tiniest smile, and to his surprise, Hunter relaxed visibly. "Hey, what do you know," he remarked offhandedly. "Smiling Cam. You should stick around; I don't see you often enough."

"There's not a lot to smile about lately," Cam said with a sigh. "The Academies are a disaster, Hunter. Between the rebuilding and the counseling, I don't know how we have any time left over to teach, let alone train."

Hunter grimaced. "Counseling, huh? I figured we weren't the only ones having problems with that. What do you tell a ninja that's been locked up on a spaceship for a year when he finds out that his family buried him?"

"There were contingencies." Cam felt obligated to defend the system. "Ninjas have to disappear all the time. But when we lost entire schools, there was no one left to carry them out."

Hunter just shook his head. "It's not the Academies' fault. No one could have known something like this would happen. But how are we supposed to explain it to the rest of the world?"

"The explanations aren't the hardest part," Cam said quietly. "We have contingencies for that too. At least most of the ninjas have someone to explain themselves to. What do you tell the ninja who's been gone a year and comes back to find out that no one missed her?"

Hunter was silent, and Cam sighed again. "Being head teacher... you ever feel like you have to fix the world?"

"No," Hunter replied immediately. He offered a lopsided grin. "Not alone, anyway. You hungry? Let's get out of here for a while."

"I can't," Cam said reluctantly. "I have afternoon classes."

"So give them to someone else." Hunter frowned at him. "Delegate, Cam. It's not a four-letter word."

"Everyone else has other things to do," Cam pointed out.

"So do you," Hunter retorted. "You're in charge of the other teachers. Make them work a little."

"They are working," Cam said, on the defensive without knowing how it had happened. "My students aren't their problem."

"The students are everyone's 'problem,'" Hunter informed him, and his use of the word "problem" was clearly mocking. "You're not just a teacher, you're a role model. You need to take care of youself, because you aren't going to do the students any good by falling apart."

"I'm not falling apart!" Cam shouted. "I'm not doing any more than anyone else!"

Hunter was undeterred. "Cam, it was cute when you used to fall asleep in Ninja Ops. You had people to look out for you then. Now no one can even find you, let alone make you stop working long enough to eat or sleep."

Before Cam could interrupt, Hunter continued, "I didn't call Tori, all right? She called me. She's worried about you, and to be honest, I can see why. You're doing way too much, and I'm gonna get you fired if you don't back off a little."

"You don't have to blackmail me," Cam snapped. He knew he should be indignant, offended, downright furious with Hunter for threatening him like that. But somehow, he couldn't quite work up the enthusiasm. Maybe he was just tired. Or maybe it was because getting fired really didn't sound so bad right now.

Maybe he was so glad that someone was telling him what he wanted to hear that he didn't care how they did it.

"It's not blackmail if it's for your own good," Hunter told him. "No one around here knows how to push you around. You and I are gonna have to hang out more often."

"Yeah, that's just what I need," Cam said without thinking.

Hunter gave him a dangerous look, and Cam knew he'd gone too far. "You got something to say to me?" Hunter inquired, voice perfectly even. Too even. Hunter would take a lot of abuse in the name of camaraderie, but he didn't put up with it from Cam unless he got something in return.

"I'm just saying that I don't need anything else on my schedule right now," Cam told him. "And I need to get to class." He hesitated briefly, but he wanted to know more than he cared how it sounded. "Are you sticking around till supper?"

"No," Hunter said brusquely. "And neither are you. I want to talk to you, so find someone to take your class or I'll do it for you."

Cam folded his arms and stared at him.

Hunter held his gaze for a moment, then shrugged, apparently giving up. He turned and left without another word. Cam watched him go, torn between running after him and just staying in this room for the rest of the afternoon. Neither was really an acceptable option, but he was leaning toward "staying here," preferably with the door locked and no interruptions.

Would it have been so hard to find someone to take his class? He swallowed, trying not to think about it. Hunter didn't deserve his temper. And... he hadn't really wanted him to leave. But there was nothing he could do about it now.

With a sigh, he trudged across the room and started down the long hallway back to Ninja Ops. They were lucky to have these facilities at all, and he knew he shouldn't be taking advantage of them just to meditate. But sometimes he needed the quietest place he could find, somewhere that only the staff could access, somewhere he could ignore the chaos taking place outside for a while.

He made his way through Ninja Ops, barely seeing the destruction anymore. It wasn't exactly a priority, although he had managed to salvage the mainframe during those first few unstructured days after the ninjas were freed and Lothor was defeated. He thought about changing into his teaching robes, but the only way he was going to get through class was by doing something straightforwardly physical. He would want his training uniform.

He made it outside and halfway past the mess tents when someone grabbed his arm. He was so surprised that he didn't even resist, just let whoever it was pull him in the opposite direction. No one would touch a teacher without--

It was Hunter. Of course. Since when did Hunter give up, just like that? He should have known. "What are you doing?" he demanded, trying to yank his arm away.

Hunter didn't let go. "Kidnapping you," he replied. "You're going to change, we're going to get some food, and then we're going to have a long talk about what the hell I'm doing here."

"My class," Cam protested half-heartedly.

"Dustin's got it covered," Hunter answered. He didn't say another word until they reached Cam's tent. He finally released Cam's arm and pointed at the tent flap. "Change," he said, in no uncertain terms.

"How did you know which one was mine?" Cam demanded suspiciously.

Hunter just folded his arms and smirked at him. "I have spies. Would you change already? I'm hungry."

"Why can't we just eat here?" Cam wanted to know.

"Because I don't want to," Hunter told him. "You got a problem with that?"

Cam sighed, but it was only a token protest. He didn't really want to eat here either. "What are you going to wear?" he asked. "Your uniform's no better than mine."

Hunter shrugged, as though it didn't really matter. "So give me your killer monkeys t-shirt. Is everything a crisis with you lately?"

Cam frowned at that, but decided it was safer not to reply. He ducked into his tent, changed into something that wouldn't draw stares in downtown Blue Bay Harbor, and then spent longer debating over a shirt for Hunter than it had taken him to dress himself. He couldn't really give him the "killer monkeys" t-shirt, could he? Cam had been sleeping in it literally for weeks. But he didn't have much that wasn't green, and black was really their only common ground. A lot of his clothes wouldn't fit Hunter anyway.

Cam grabbed the t-shirt and shook it out. If Hunter had asked for it then it wasn't his problem. Folding it up, he pushed the tent flap aside and looked around for Hunter.

And he froze.

Hunter had already removed his uniform jacket, leaving him in solid black and a form-fitting t-shirt that, frankly, would draw more stares on the street than his uniform. He was turning now, probably alerted by the sound of canvas. His face lit with an unguarded smile when he caught sight of Cam... and it took his breath away.

It was just a moment, a split-second impression of beauty and welcome that was completely unlike Hunter. Cam swallowed, offering him the t-shirt without a word. Hunter traded him his jacket, jerking his head toward the tent. "You mind if I leave this here?"

"No," Cam muttered, already turning away. He was grateful for the excuse, for the seconds it gave him to regain his composure. When he reemerged, Hunter was just Hunter again, and he could handle that.

Even if Hunter was making Cam's t-shirt look a lot better than Cam did.

"So?" Hunter teased, holding his arms out to either side. "How do I look? Will killer coding ninja monkeys accept me as one of their own?"

Cam rolled his eyes, refusing to give him more than the most cursory inspection. "You won't make people wonder which ninja school you came from, at least."

Hunter just shook his head. "Great. I've awoken Sarcastic Cam. At least you're better than your depressed counterpart."

"I'm not depressed," Cam snapped. They were making their way toward the holographic portal, and he had fallen into step with Hunter without even thinking about it. "Are you going to name every one of my moods?"

"Yeah," Hunter said carelessly. "I figure by the time I get done, I'll have forgotten the first ones and I can start over again."

Was it just him, or was Hunter in a weird mood today? It belatedly occurred to him that Hunter seemed a little more... edgy than usual. Not sharp, not irritated, just... uncomfortable. But that didn't make any sense. It was probably just his imagination.

Hunter continued to talk as they made their way off the grounds--and that was unusual enough, when he stopped to think about it. Since when was Hunter... chatty? Cam didn't make a conscious effort to keep up his side of the conversation, but Hunter knew what to ask. He managed to make small talk all the way down the mountain, and by the time they got into town Cam really wanted to ask what was going on. There was no way Hunter was going to all this trouble just because Tori had told him Cam was working too hard.

Not that he wasn't going to have a little talk with Tori when he got back to the Academy. Why had she called *Hunter*? And without saying anything to him?

"Here okay?" Hunter asked, as they approached the coffee shop just across the street from Storm Chargers. "We can get something and eat outside."

"Sure," Cam said distractedly. There were several tables set up outside, all empty at this time of the afternoon, and he couldn't deny that being somewhere quiet and uncrowded was a welcome change. "That sounds fine."

Hunter got to his wallet first after they ordered, which normally wouldn't have bothered him but he couldn't remember who had paid the last time. He didn't like the sudden feeling that Hunter was taking care of him. He collected his food with a frown, and headed for the door without bothering to wait.

He was sitting down by the time Hunter joined him, apparently having stopped for napkins. The only thing that kept him from saying something right then was the fact that Hunter didn't try to give him one. He could see Hunter shooting covert looks at him while he ate, though, and it only took a few minutes for that to get really old.

Finally he set his sandwich down and glared at Hunter, catching him just as he darted another look from his own meal to Cam. "What?" Cam demanded.

Hunter blinked, held his hands out to the sides, and swallowed once. "What?" he echoed.

"You keep looking at me," Cam said irritably. "You haven't stopped talking since we left the school. And since when do you have 'spies' at the Wind Academy? You knew where my tent was?"

Hunter looked down, and now his discomfort was obvious. "Yeah, well," he muttered. "Just because you don't talk to Dustin and Tori doesn't mean I don't."

"You knew where my tent was?" Cam repeated incredulously. The strangeness of the situation was finally catching up with him. "What do you guys talk about, anyway? It's only been two weeks!"

"Cam--" Hunter put his fork down and shook his head, giving the table a half-smile as though he couldn't believe Cam didn't get it. "It's been two weeks of hell, all right? And believe me, I have a lot of experience with hell," he added wryly.

Cam could only stare at him. "What are you talking about?"

"What, you want a list?" Hunter demanded. "The week my parents died, the week Lothor attacked, the week--"

"That's not what I meant," Cam interrupted hastily. "I mean, I thought you liked being the Thunder Academy's head teacher. What made the last couple of weeks so bad?"

Hunter folded the corner of his napkin, creasing it with his thumb. "They weren't bad, exactly," he told the table. "Just, you know. A lot to get used to. A lot of new people."

"And a lot of old people," Cam said, frowning. "You must have a lot of old friends at the Thunder Academy."

Hunter snorted. "You'd be surprised." Then he lifted his gaze, giving Cam an intent look. "Do you have a lot of old friends, at the Wind Academy?"

Taken aback, Cam's frown deepened. "I know everyone there," he said evasively. "I'm glad everyone who came back is safe."

Hunter's mouth quirked. "Yeah, see? You're not any more social than I am."

"What's your point?" Cam demanded.

"My point is that I missed you!" Hunter exclaimed. "Geez, Cam, what do you think? You think I just come running every time Tori says she's worried about someone? I'd never sleep!"

Cam gaped at him, too stunned by his outburst to reply. Hunter looked away. "I know it's only been two weeks," he said, fiddling with his napkin again. "Two days was too long. Two weeks felt like--"

Hunter broke off with a self-deprecating laugh. "Listen to me. I sound so gone. Look, I just wanted to see you, okay? I'm not gonna to stalk you or anything, I just... I want to hang out. Like we did before."

Cam swallowed hard, nodding when Hunter shot him a sideways glance. "Yeah," he agreed quietly, not sure his voice could handle anything louder. "I miss that too."

Hunter smiled. That was it, just smiled, and Cam felt better. He knew he was smiling back, saw Hunter's eyes brighten, and he looked away to keep his smile from widening into a ridiculous grin. Hunter shouldn't make him this happy. It shouldn't matter so much that he was missed, missed as much as he missed Hunter, if he admitted it to himself. But it did.

"So?" Hunter prompted at last, reaching out to tap the table for his attention. "What are you doing this weekend?"

Cam raised his eyebrows at him. "Going to Disneyworld?"

Hunter just grinned. "Not unless I'm going too."