Rafe kept an excellent record of being on time and was a diligent, hard-working student—for a total of two weeks. In his world this was a bit of an accomplishment, considering how much effort and energy these lessons took out of him. So today, feeling extra tired after binge watching TV shows on his laptop till late, he smacked his alarm clock to switch it off.

Groggily, he decided he'd figure out a way to placate Norah later. Maybe come up with an excuse that he was sick or something. He was good at being fake sick. He texted her to cancel the lesson. Maybe she'd even give him one of those delicious Japanese biscuits.

The sleep was blissful and deep. He started dreaming of a sunny Italy and focaccia bread and girls in summer dresses until he heard a bang and his door snapped right open. He jumped up from his bed, dishevelled and dizzy from getting up so quickly.

"Wh-What the fuck?" Rafe managed to breathe out, gawking at Norah who stood calm and composed, as if she didn't just kick in his door.

"What do you mean, 'cancelling the lesson today'? That's not part of our plan," she said, looking at the clock.

Rafe's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "I-I-I was just- I'm kind of sick," he said lamely.

"You look absolutely fine to me," Norah said, observing him. He considered squeezing out a cough but figured he was caught red-handed. There was no way to convince now. He should've known she was psycho enough to hunt him down.

"Give me one quote from Great Gatsby to demonstrate Daisy's foolishness," she barked an order.

All Rafe could produce was serious of confused 'huh' and 'erms'.

"Terrible. We have to finish your coursework by today, I'm busy later. Put on some clothes and we'll study in the hall. There's no one around anyway," she said, but her eyes began roaming around the room and for a second Rafe felt a little self-conscious.

His room was tiny. There was a desk, a window, a small closet, and the bed was in the middle. Norah's eyes landed on a mountain of shirts and clothes on the chair. Her lips thinned in what Rafe guessed was a display of disgust and left the room.

His heart was hammering; from surprise, from frustration, and slight terror. She looked like she was coming in to murder him.

After she left the room, his housemate, Alex, popped his head into the door, his eyes wide as saucers. "What the bloody hell was that?"

Rafe slumped onto the bed, still clutching the covers, and after what seemed like an eternity, breathed out, "That was my...sensei."

"Scary as hell," Alex muttered, running a hand across his unruly curls.

Hastily, he brushed his teeth, got dressed, and began looking for his draft papers. After a moment, he let an amused sigh. He could only blame himself. This was the only way for him to get anything done, and Norah was proving to be a very effective disciplinarian.

She sat in the study room, which was just a desk, a couple of chairs, some computers and shelves filled with old books. He groggily sat down, not feeling the energy to study at all. He still couldn't get over the shock of having her barging into his room like that. What if he had been naked? He loved sleeping commando back in his apartment in London.

When she had previously threatened to hunt him down if he bunked his lessons, he was sure it was just a joke. This girl was no joke.

After a couple of hours of bickering, fake crying, begging and bargaining, Norah still managed to stand her ground and make him complete the work. For the first time he's completed work that was not due for another week. Besides the work that they had to complete together for class, she was now making sure he was actually ahead of schedule. Rafe stretched out on his stool with a feeling of accomplishment. He finally did it.

Rafe was sure Norah was sharing his triumphant mood until he caught her looking concerned, almost uncomfortable.

His happy bubble burst. "What now?" Rafe asked with dread.

"Why do you have that pile of clothes in your room? It's horrible."

"Why do you care?" Rafe snapped in defence. Is that what she was thinking about this entire time? So Rafe wasn't imagining it, she was a bit edgy since she entered his room this morning. He just assumed she was mad at his 'disrespect for her time' again.

"Answer me," she snapped back.

"It's a pile I was meant to take to the dry cleaners, but I keep putting it off because I can't be fucked."

"Dry cleaners? How can you even afford that?"

"My dad still sends me allowance. Everything in this town is cheap. My biggest expense here is private tutoring. So if you want to give me a discount-"

"Out of the question. Rafe, seriously, don't you know how to your own washing and ironing?"

"Well I never had to do any of that before. We've always had housekeepers."

Norah sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I thought I told you to be neater."

"I am," Rafe said hotly, "I wear new fresh clothes every day. I have pencil case for god's sake. What else do you want from me?"

"Let's go. I'm teaching you how to do the laundry. "

"You're joking right?"

But Norah's face was dead serious.

"No. No way. I'm not doing it. I have better things to do."

"I think we've agreed before that you don't. Let's go, it's easy. Definitely easier than literature. You can consider it a break and after I'll check your French homework."

"How is doing chores a break?" Rafe exploded.

"Let's go," Norah said authoritatively. "We're going to wash your stuff."

"I said no. I'm a man and my word is final."

Norah stood beaming triumphantly as Rafe sorted through his clothes, grumbling endlessly in Italian. As much as he was complaining, he worked through his load quickly and methodically. She showed him where the washing instructions were on his clothes, what each symbol meant, which degree and which setting to use the iron.

"That actually very clever," Rafe commented looking through the white labels on the sides of his clothes. It was something new to him and Norah couldn't help but think how adorable he looked. He looked like a child who discovered a new colour in his crayon box. He caught her looking at him and shook his head.

"I still can't believe you're making me do this. I don't pay you to force me to do chores you know," he said.

"No... but you did promise to do what I ask. Have you ever heard of Kaizen?"

Rafe thought about it for a moment. "Is it a monster from that movie Godzilla?"

"No that's Kaiju, which means strange creature. Kaizen is—"

"I should call you Kaiju instead of sensei then," Rafe interrupted with mirth.

"Kaizen," Norah went on, ignoring him, "is a business philosophy that helped Japan recover economically with incredible efficient after world war two. My grandpa helped me adopt Japanese philosophies into my studies. It's the most valuable lessons he'd given me. Before he started any kind of homework with me he made sure I exercised and I ate properly. The reason I make sure you're neat and on top of everything is because it helps clear your mind. Keeps you and your thoughts organised. If your life is organised, your thoughts are organised. It gives you clarity."

Rafe realised he had come across the term before when he attended one of the meetings his father held but the word just went over his head. Now that Norah explained it him and was forcing him to practice it, he was more eager to learn more about it.

At least he would understand her methods a little more.