My Roommate, A.K.A. The Ninja

College was not what I expected it to be. 

With all the movies portraying college life as a constant party central, there was a surprisingly low amount of parties going on. And a lot more work to do. Truly, I thought I had left the countless hours of working into the night on some project behind me. Clearly I was wrong. At least the dorms were nice. Kind of. 

Sure they were small – I could barely fit in the shower stall, it was ridiculous – and the stove didn’t always work so we mostly used my roommate's portable camping stove instead. But it had beds and desks, and a just slightly squeaky window. Honestly, I was happy as long as here was heating in the winter. I try to ignore that my standards are so low; it was little comfort that I wasn’t the only one. Especially since my roommate couldn't really be counted. 

It wasn’t like he actually used our dorms much. That living embodiment of annoyance probably wouldn’t even feel the–

The aforementioned window above the second desk slid open with a squeal. There, just a little to the left from my place of imminent death – I mean, my desk – was my roommate. Crouching in the open window in all black. Crouching in the open window in all black at 04:28 on a December night. And letting the cold in! This moron…

The temptation to push him back out the window was truly hard to resist. But somehow, and it amazes me too, I indeed resisted. If for nothing else then for the fact that our nightly ritual has already started. 

The moron finally, finally, jumped through the window, over the desk and the chair, and landed on his feet. Show off! At least his bag didn't spill its contents this time. That incident had been horrendous. Turning he closed the window cutting off the cold air. The desks should really not be near the window. So cold. 

Clearly my absolute darling of a roommate thought I would be asleep by now and he hadn’t bothered coming up with an excuse. He probably expected to have to trick me into thinking it was all a dream when his entry woke me up. Because there is no way I wouldn’t have woken up with that useless window. He was a moron but he couldn’t be that stupid. He wouldn’t be what he is if he were. I hope.

Seeing how I’d have to start the talking part I resigned myself to the headache I could already feel starting. Or was that from the algebra? Hmmm…

“So...umm. Why were you…?” There, that should be enough of a starter. He could say literally anything to that and get away with it! I rubbed my eyes for the barely-still-awake effect I was going for in case anyone was watching. Or listening. God, I hope they aren’t listening. 

“...I left my keys.” 

I gave him a moment to continue as I watched him walk to the little closet – the one we shared– beside his bed and stuff his bag inside. It was only when he started changing that I realized he wasn’t planning to say more. This moron!

“And you didn’t call me because...?” There, if he didn’t get the memo I was going to make him do the algebra homework. Let’s see how he likes that. 

“I forgot that too.” He said as he pulled on sweatpants and an oversized shirt. Both pitch black. Gods, why did he like the colour black so much? I mean I get why he wears it most of the time, but come on; a little more personality would be nice! He literally looked like he was on death’s doorstep. That or going to a funeral (possibly his own).

Technically, I could have nodded and accepted that and end our ritual for the night. But no, now I felt annoyed at him for leaving me to do algebra till...04:36! No, I wasn’t going to just drop this tonight (today?). I wanted him to be uncomfortable and annoyed just as much as I was. Yes. I will see you squirm, my dear roommate.

“You could have come up and knocked. You know I would have opened the door, right? You didn’t have to climb to the third floor, “ and just as a cherry on top, “ how did you even manage that anyways?”

My roommate looked up, clearly pissed off, from where he was doing something with his phone. Hopefully making sure no one is listening. But until the “Ok” was given neither of us could stop the ritual.  

I would have laughed if I could have. Yes, now my roommate was just as annoyed as me. Mission accomplished. 

“I thought you were sleeping and knowing how little of that you do, I thought I shouldn’t wake you.” He said, and then shrugged. “I used to mountain climb. It’s easier to climb three stories than you think.”

Huh. Perhaps he wasn’t that much of a moron after all. It was a good answer. It directed the conversation away from what happened and created a new topic from which he would come out excused. Well, excused if I didn’t throw him for another loop. But he looked tired and I probably did too. It would be best left till morning. 

“Oh. I didn’t know you mountain climbed. When was that? Why didn’t you say before? Can you teach me? It would be so great if I could climb out the window whenever Mr. Steel's class started.” 

“I haven’t been doing it for a while now,” he said with another shrug, “I’ll start teaching you tomorrow. Just don’t tell anyone you learned from me.”

“Sure!” There, crisis averted and everyone satisfied. 

It took a few more minutes of me struggling with algebra and the local climbing expert “playing” on his phone, before I got the “Ok”. Our ritual could end.

With a great sigh we both fell back to rest against the back of our respective perches. Me in my chair and him on his bed.

You see officially my roommate is just another random college student. He went to classes and was majoring in coding. He got good grades, but not good enough to go to university. He liked dark chocolate and strawberry milkshakes. He lived off of ramen and microwave food and pulled all-nighters. He watched Doctor Who and read Lord of the Rings like it was his religion. He lived in the student dorms with lil’ ol' me, and we took turners complaining about teachers and swooning over the girls in our classes. 

He was completely normal. To everyone. Officially.

So I kept myself to that. He was nothing more than my roommate and grudgingly accepted best friend. I pretended not to notice the oddities, the strangeness. I pretended to accept each and every excuse for every midnight excursion. I pretended not to see the throwing knives he would hurriedly swipe off the desks. I pretended really hard to ignore his ease with our kitchen knife, it was an ease you only get when you have done something many times. And of course, I pretended not to hear all the metal clanging together in his bag when he climbed in through the window. 

Because my roommate was completely normal. Officially.

Unofficially though…. all bets were off.

I knew exactly what my roommate was. I knew the nightly excursions were his training time with his senseis – when I first called them that he threw his pillow at me, I still haven’t released it from it’s hostage position on my bed. I also saw and “played” with his throwing knives causing him to swipe them away: he preys them out of my fingers while I try to lock myself into the bathroom. I marvelled at his knife skills, begging him to teach me while forcing him to chop the onions because they always make me cry. Of course they make him cry too, but he owes me so…. And I know exactly what he carries around in his bag. I’ve even cleaned (read I stupidly swing them around until he has a heart attack) all his ninja weapons before.

We even did nightly rituals of him coming up with excuses that I pretended to believe so his ninja masters wouldn't come after me for knowing his secret. He told me once that they sometimes wait around and see if he could “fool” me. As if I didn’t know what he was from the start.

Yeah. I knew my roommate was a ninja. I was fine with it. Unofficially, of course.

“Yo, I’m hungry. Do we have ramen,” he asks from his flopped over position on the bed. 

Focusing back on him I studied just how tired he was. His training was becoming more and more intense. He says he’s advancing his skills. I say he usually looked like one giant bruise. From what I’ve seen earlier it was the same tonight. Too bad I had a headache and absolutely no sympathy left ever since I started the algebra. 

“Yeah, we do! Make me some too, won’t you dear roomie.” With a sweet smile I turned back to my doom. I snickered hearing the pained groan from behind me, but like I said; no sympathy left. Especially since he let the cold air in. 

After roughly ten minutes of pot clanging, hushed swearing, and a possibly broken something later there were two steaming bowls of ramen. The best part? It was good ramen since it was I’m-an-awesome ninja’s favourite meal. He knew how to make it so delicious a Gordon Ramsay would bow to him. 

Ramsay jr decides to try to sleep and I go back to faking my mathematical intelligence. I was making good progress, might actually finish it before class for once. How nice it would be if I could finish this before 06:00 and get at least an hour or two of sleep before morning class. Looking at the clock I see its 05:14. With a quiet sigh I return to work...only to be interrupted. Again.

“Are you done yet? Can we turn the light off?” 

“No, I’m not done yet. No, I need the light to finish algebra.” Please just stop talking. Of course instead of saying that I tried to suppress my angry. We were both tired, he had training, and I had this nightmare to complete, getting angry wont help anyone. 

“You always take so long! It’s just algebra!”

Just algebra? Just algebra?! This insolent, stupid, moron! Yeah I took so long because I had a lot of “just algebra” because I wanted to get relatively good grades and because I kept being helpful and doing his homework as well as mine and–

Wait. His homework. I was helpful. Oh my lord! 

I am doing this moron’s algebra homework!

I guess I forgot to mention, since I know he’s a ninja I help him however I can to keep his cover. Sometimes I do his homework to help. Too bad for me he was ungrateful and good at math. He could have easily done this himself, but instead he gave it to me!

Well, no more! I was going to bed.

With silent footsteps that could match his I stood up and picked up the 6 pounds of advanced algebra textbook along with everything else needed to complete his homework and walked over to his bed where he lay with his eyes closed.

And unceremoniously dropped it all on him. 

If his teachers had seen how I approached and then dropped a textbook on their prized ninja in training, I'm fairly sure they would have disowned him on the spot. Especially after the squeak he produced upon impact.

Sputtering and swearing he surfaced from the pile of paper, textbook, notebook, and more textbook. I knew he was glaring as I got ready for bed, I could practically feel him willing my head to catch fire. But it wouldn’t. I’ll leave him to glare at me in the company of his “just algebra”.

“What was that for,” he asked indigently and when I pulled back the cover of my bed he had another question. “What are you doing?”

With a snort and a stretch I settled in to get some sleep before morning classes. I mean, my three hours before class just freed up, I’d be a moron to not take advantage of it. Oh wait, got to tell Mr. I’m-A-Cool-Ninja first.

“It’s your homework. If you don’t like how I do it you can do it yourself. And in case you can’t tell; I’m sleeping.” 

“Wait, but we had a deal! You cover for me occasionally when it comes to school stuff and I teach you how to chop onions fast so they don’t prejudice waterworks.” Seeing how that approach wouldn’t work he tried to make me pity him, “Please. I need this work done. I can’t do it by myself.”

“Well, I guess you better start thinking of an excuse then, Mr. I-Forgot-My-Keys.” Like I said before; no sympathy left. His homework took care of that already. Of course this response made him angry.

“You won’t be able to sleep. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll blast music. Metal. And the lights will keep you up too.”

I couldn’t keep the amused snort in. Really, it was hilarious; this oh so great ninja was near begging me to do his algebra homework, even trying to threaten me. And he didn’t know that I had fallen asleep standing multiple times throughout my life, or that the level of brightness only affected him. He also didn’t seem to realize what it meant to be in a marching band. Metal? It was like a gentle melody compared to what I’ve heard on a coach bus on the way to a performance. 

Falling asleep listening to Mr. Just-Algebra swearing about vectors and bad friends, my last thoughts were that I should let him know he had an evaluation in his coding class. Of course I never got the chance, since he put me to sleep with the gentle melody of some metal band.