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A new year, and new students to teach, beginning their journey on a lifelong love and appreciation for classic literature."I'm only here for easy credits.""This is a requirement for my program.""I don't even like classic literature.""I hope we don't have to cover Shakespeare. We got enough of that in High School.""Ugh."Yes. A lifelong love for classic literature. He would soon instill it in these young minds and they would cease their terrible conversations. After all, he didn't go after their creator like that.He could though. Created by a dalek? What a farce."Does everybody have the required texts?"They all did."Good. Now let's go over the syllabus..."They turned to their handouts. This class was always his most meticulously planned. The first introduction to literature. Who knew what sort of teachers these kids had had in their high school lives? Every year he tried to enhance it make it more than it was before. Every year he tried to get the best scores, the best feedback, the most students who came back for more, changed their tune about literature, reconsidered their major, or at least their minor.Every year he was defeated."At least this guy's easier than the other professor. That guy is hardcore."Of course, he tried not to let it bother him (it did). Not even for one year, not even for one semester had he managed to overtake his rival.He was never meant to be a literature professor. He was a merchant. That's what he had been created to be. His rival on the other hand...He had always had this in him.He heard the knock at the door and left his students to mull over their fate."How are the new students?" His rival was smirking at him, reading the disdain and resignation in his face.He frowned, "It's your reputation, you know. Anybody who is serious about this stuff... They go to you.""And how do you think it got to be that way."His frown deepened. His rival's smirk grew."I should have let you die." More than a few heads turned towards them at that."Now, now. The bard would never have had that. You know that." More heads turned."What is that about?""Do you think they're rivals?""This just got a lot more interesting?""Does that mean we're rivals with the other class?""What does he mean by let him die?""What does he mean by the bard wouldn't have it?""Now, now, dear students," his rival addressed his class, "Drama will be covered next semester."He glared at him, at his smug, smirking face. He didn't need this. He was fine on his own. Who did he think he was? Was he... Was he actually trying to help him?"I'll be going now. I have my own work to attend to," His rival left.It would almost be hard, pretending to hate each other. If they hadn't been created that way. Had they also been created with this love, or just the capacity for it? Sometimes he wished he had a Philosophy class, so he could pose these questions without his students questioning his sanity.Ah well. Maybe next time.