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velting · 20 days ago

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Blood Lock

CHAPTER 4

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��️WARING⚠️: THIS CHAPTER HAS SOME NOT SAFE CONENT! PLEASE READ WITH YOUR OWN CAUTION!! IF YOU DON'T ENJOY IT! THEN PLEASE SKIP IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED EVERYONE!

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The soft hum of the dormitory lights filled the silence as [Name] closed the door behind her, locking it with trembling hands. The sound of the bolt sliding into place offered little comfort. She leaned against the door, her heart still racing, her breaths uneven as the events of the evening played on an endless loop in her mind.

Her legs felt weak, but she forced herself to walk to the small desk by her bed. The dim glow of her table lamp illuminated the room, casting shadows that seemed to taunt her. She avoided looking at them, afraid her imagination might twist them into something sinister.

Standing before the mirror above the desk, [Name] hesitated. She could feel the faint sting at her neck, the wound pulsing like a dark reminder of what had happened. Slowly, reluctantly, she reached up and peeled back the high collar of her gym jacket, revealing the twin puncture wounds Raichi had left behind.

Her reflection stared back at her, pale and wide-eyed, as if she were a stranger. The sight of the wound made her stomach churn. Blood had crusted faintly around the edges, the skin irritated and bruised.

“Gross…” she whispered, her voice cracking. Her fingers brushed against the wounds lightly, and she winced, a wave of nausea washing over her.

[Name] turned away from the mirror, clutching the edge of the sink for support. “It’s just a dream,” she muttered to herself, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned the faucet on, letting cold water run over her trembling hands.

“It’s just…a bad dream.”

She splashed the icy water onto her face, hoping the shock would wake her from the nightmare. The coolness seeped into her skin, momentarily numbing the swirling panic in her chest. But no matter how hard she scrubbed her face, the feeling of Raichi’s breath on her neck, his grip on her wrists, his fangs piercing her skin—it all refused to fade.

[Name] gripped the edge of the sink tighter, her knuckles turning white. She stared at the water swirling down the drain, trying to anchor herself.

“It didn’t happen,” she insisted, shaking her head violently. “It couldn’t have. It’s not real.”

But as her reflection caught her eye again, she knew she was lying to herself. The marks on her neck were undeniable, as was the soreness in her body. The memory of Raichi’s laugh echoed in her mind, cruel and mocking. Her fingers brushed against the faint bruise forming on her wrist where he had held her so tightly.

[Name] closed her eyes, her breathing shallow. “Why…why did this happen?” she whispered.

Forcing herself to move, she reached for the first-aid kit in her drawer. The clink of its metal latch opening was a small comfort, a reminder that she could take control, even if it was only over this small task. She pulled out gauze and antiseptic, hesitating for a moment before dabbing at the wounds.

She hissed in pain as the antiseptic stung, her body flinching reflexively. “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

With practiced care, she wrapped the gauze around her neck, securing it with tape. She caught her reflection again, now with the bandage covering the evidence of the attack. It didn’t make her feel any better.

[Name] slumped onto her bed, her hands gripping the blanket tightly. She stared at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling with deep, deliberate breaths.

“You can’t let this haunt you,” she told herself firmly, her voice steadier now. “You’re stronger than this. You’re…you’re [Name] Sanzuku.”

Her words felt hollow, but she repeated them like a mantra, hoping they would fill the void of fear inside her.

Her eyes drifted to the window, where the moon hung high in the sky, its light casting a silvery glow over her room. For a moment, she felt a strange sense of calm, as if the moon itself was watching over her.

[Name] took a deep breath, her hands finally relaxing their grip on the blanket. “I won’t let him win,” she whispered, her voice resolute.

But as she lay back on her bed, pulling the covers over her trembling body, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the night was far from over. Somewhere out there, Raichi was likely laughing to himself, and the thought made her skin crawl.

“Tomorrow,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “Tomorrow, I’ll figure out what to do.”

Her body begged for rest, but her mind refused to quiet, the haunting memories of Raichi’s glowing amber eyes lingering as sleep finally claimed her.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

After that week. The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting soft rays onto the dorm room floor. [Name] sat on the edge of her bed, still in her pajamas, staring blankly at her bandaged neck in the small mirror on the desk. The events of that night lingered in her mind like a storm cloud. Her fingers grazed the edge of the bandage, hesitating.

She wanted to tell Ruka. She needed to tell him. The thought of his protective nature comforted her, yet it also terrified her. If Ruka found out, she knew he wouldn’t let this slide. He’d throw himself into the middle of her problems, possibly even get hurt in the process.

“No,” she whispered to herself. Her voice was soft but firm. “I can’t let him get involved. This is my mess, and I’ll deal with it.”

A sudden knock on the door startled her, pulling her out of her thoughts. She quickly tugged the collar of her shirt higher to hide the bandage.

“[Name]! You up?” Hitomi’s cheerful voice called from the other side of the door.

[Name] cleared her throat, trying to steady herself. “Yeah, come in!”

Hitomi pushed the door open, carrying her backpack and a thermos. She gave [Name] a bright smile. “Morning! You okay? You look...tired.”

[Name] forced a smile, waving her hand dismissively. “I didn’t sleep well, that’s all. Nothing a good breakfast can’t fix.”

Hitomi tilted her head, scrutinizing her. “Are you sure? You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

[Name] shook her head quickly. “Nope, I’m fine. Seriously.” She grabbed a hairbrush from the desk and began combing her hair, hoping to divert Hitomi’s attention. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

Hitomi sat on the bed, setting her thermos down. “Well, I was thinking we could grab some coffee before class. Maybe hit the library afterward? I have a group project to work on, but I’ve got time before that.”

[Name] nodded, grateful for the mundane conversation. It was a welcome distraction. “Sounds good. I could use some caffeine to wake me up.”

Hitomi’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, as if she could sense something was off. “[Name], if there’s something bothering you, you know you can talk to me, right?”

[Name] froze for a split second before giving her a reassuring smile. “I know, Hitomi. Thanks. But really, I’m okay.”

Hitomi nodded, though she didn’t seem entirely convinced. “Alright, but don’t overwork yourself, okay? You’ve got a lot on your plate already.”

[Name] hummed in agreement as she stood up and began gathering her things. She kept her movements deliberate, masking the tremor in her hands. She knew she couldn’t let this affect her day—or anyone around her.

As they left the dorm, the crisp morning air greeted them. Hitomi chatted about her project, her words flowing easily, filling the silence [Name] desperately needed to distract herself.

But her mind kept drifting back to Raichi, his sneering face, his mocking laugh. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.

I have to be strong, she thought. I can’t let this control me. And I definitely can’t let anyone else get involved.

Hitomi glanced at her, noticing her silence. “You’re awfully quiet today.”

[Name] blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. “Sorry, just thinking about today’s classes. AP Government’s going to be a killer, isn’t it?”

Hitomi groaned dramatically. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I still haven’t finished the reading.”

[Name] chuckled softly, the sound feeling foreign even to her. She appreciated Hitomi’s ability to make things feel normal, even if only for a moment.

As they reached the campus café, [Name]’s resolve solidified. She would handle this. She wouldn’t drag Ruka—or anyone else—into her problems. Whatever came next, she would be ready.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

The café buzzed with quiet conversations and the occasional clinking of cups against saucers. [Name] and Hitomi sat by a window, the warm sunlight streaming in as they enjoyed their morning coffee. The comforting aroma of roasted beans mingled with the faint hum of the espresso machine, creating a cozy atmosphere that momentarily eased [Name]’s restless mind.

“I can’t believe it’s going to be midterm season in a couple of months,” Hitomi said, stirring her latte absently. “Feels like we just started the semester.”

[Name] sipped her cappuccino, savoring the warmth that spread through her chest. “Tell me about it. The professors are relentless. At this rate, I might as well live in the library.”

Hitomi chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re already ahead of most people. You’ll survive.”

Their casual conversation was interrupted by the sound of a confident voice cutting through the ambient noise. “Well, well, if it isn’t the lovely [Name] and her equally lovely friend.”

Both girls looked up to see a tall figure standing beside their table. Aiku Oliver, with his shaggy dark purple hair and lime green tips, gave them a charming smile. His heterochromatic eyes—one green, one purple—glimmered mischievously as he leaned slightly closer.

“Morning, ladies. Mind if I join you?”

Hitomi’s polite smile was as thin as a sheet of paper. “We’re just finishing up, actually.”

[Name], on the other hand, raised an eyebrow, amused by his forwardness. “Aren’t you bold this early in the day?”

Aiku placed a hand over his heart, feigning mock offense. “Bold? I prefer ‘confident.’ A man has to seize opportunities when they arise.”

[Name] couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics. “Is that so? And what opportunity are you seizing right now?”

“Why, the opportunity to talk to the most enchanting woman in the café, of course,” Aiku said smoothly, his eyes locking onto hers with a practiced intensity.

Hitomi rolled her eyes and took another sip of her coffee, muttering under her breath, “Here we go…”

[Name] tilted her head, pretending to consider his words. “Enchanting, huh? You must use that line often.”

“Only when it’s true,” he replied, his grin widening. “And trust me, [Name], with you, it’s undeniably true.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re quite the charmer, Oliver.”

“Guilty as charged,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. Then, with a more serious expression, he added, “But I’m also a man of action, which brings me to this…”

Before he could continue, a loud voice cut through the café. “Aiku! Oi! You’re going to make us late for practice!”

The interruption came from Nio Kazuma, who stood at the entrance with an exasperated look on his face. He crossed his arms, tapping his foot impatiently.

Aiku sighed dramatically, turning back to [Name]. “Duty calls, but I refuse to leave empty-handed.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small card with his number scribbled on it. He handed it to her with a wink, then made a ‘call me’ gesture with his hand.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” he said playfully before heading toward the door.

[Name] watched him go, her lips curling into an amused smile. “Well, that was...something.”

Hitomi groaned, setting her cup down with a slight thud. “[Name], please tell me you’re not actually charmed by that guy.”

[Name] shrugged, tucking the card into her pocket. “What can I say? He’s entertaining.”

Hitomi gave her a deadpan look. “Entertaining? Sure. But don’t forget, Aiku Oliver has a history of cheating. He’s a walking red flag.”

[Name] waved her hand dismissively. “Relax, Hitomi. It’s just a number. I’m not planning to marry the guy.”

“Good,” Hitomi said firmly. “Because the last thing you need is someone like him messing with your life.”

[Name] nodded, though she couldn’t deny the small spark of curiosity she felt. Aiku was certainly bold, but she wasn’t naive. She’d tread carefully.

As they finished their coffee and gathered their things, [Name] couldn’t shake the strange feeling that she was stepping into deeper waters, ones she might not fully understand. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the day ahead.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The days had settled into a steady rhythm, and [Name] found herself navigating the complexities of her college schedule with relative ease—at least for the most part. Mathematics breezed by that morning, thanks to the familiar comfort of chatting with Kira and Gagamaru. Kira’s calm demeanor was always a source of encouragement, and Gagamaru’s quirky, almost otherworldly fascination with problem-solving never failed to amuse her.

Economical Biology offered a refreshing break. Aryu was as lively and flamboyant as ever, his discussions about eco-conscious fashion and lifestyle tips filling the room with laughter. Between his spirited anecdotes, [Name] found herself helping Yoichi with his notes. His focus and quiet determination reminded her of why she admired him as a peer.

Psychology passed in a blur of worksheets and sneaky exchanges. Itsuki, who sat beside her, subtly nudged his paper toward her direction, signaling for help. She obliged, jotting down a few pointers while Mr. Luna droned on, oblivious. Meanwhile, she had to fend off Ryusei’s endless flirtatious remarks, rolling her eyes each time he leaned in with some over-the-top compliment.

“Can’t you go five minutes without flirting?” she whispered at one point, shooting him a glare.

“Not when you’re this cute, doll,” he replied, smirking.

Her irritation was palpable, but it was offset by her curiosity about another student—an unassuming boy in her psychology class who reminded her of Harry Potter with his round glasses and slightly messy hair. She’d wanted to approach him during the break but had missed her chance, leaving her feeling slightly disappointed.

When the time came for History, her most challenging subject, [Name] felt her usual apprehension creep in. As she entered the classroom, Akira and Reiji greeted her warmly, their lighthearted banter easing her nerves.

“Hey, [Name]!” Akira called, offering her a cheerful wave. “Ready for another round of historical trivia torture?”

Reiji chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ve got extra notes if you need them.”

“Thanks, guys,” [Name] said, smiling at their support.

The lecture began, and the classroom fell into an uneasy quiet as Mr. Prince launched into a detailed discussion about ancient political systems. His voice was steady and authoritative, commanding attention. Yet, as [Name] stared at the whiteboard, her thoughts began to drift.

Raichi’s piercing amber eyes, the suffocating grip of his hands, and the sharp pain of his bite replayed in her mind like a haunting film reel. She clenched her fists beneath her desk, trying to banish the memory, but the sensation of his breath against her neck lingered, making her shiver.

She didn’t notice the classroom around her fading into white noise. Nor did she hear Akira softly calling her name.

“[Name]?”

Nothing.

“[Name]!” Akira repeated, louder this time, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

Startled, she blinked and looked up, realizing with horror that all eyes were on her.

“What?” she asked, her voice shaky.

Akira nodded toward the front of the room, where Mr. Prince stood with his arms crossed, his expression a mix of impatience and disappointment.

“Miss Sanzuku,” Mr. Prince said sternly, “since you seem to find daydreaming more engaging than this lecture, perhaps you can answer the question I just asked.”

Her heart sank. She hadn’t even heard the question. Face flushing, she stammered, “I... I’m sorry, sir. Could you repeat it?”

The class chuckled softly, and [Name] wanted to sink into her seat and disappear.

Mr. Prince let out a sigh, his gaze piercing. “See me after class, Miss Sanzuku. Perhaps we can work on your focus then.”

The humiliation hit her like a wave. She lowered her head, muttering another apology as the lecture resumed. Akira shot her a sympathetic glance, but even his quiet reassurance wasn’t enough to dispel the embarrassment twisting in her chest.

When the lecture finally ended, [Name] stayed glued to her seat as the other students filed out. Akira gave her a thumbs-up on his way out, mouthing, "Good luck."

She managed a weak smile in return before Mr. Prince approached her desk.

“Miss Sanzuku,” he began, his tone less harsh now but still firm, “I understand that history might not be your favorite subject, but zoning out during a lecture doesn’t help anyone, least of all you.”

“I know,” she said quietly, staring down at her hands. “I’m sorry. I’ve just... had a lot on my mind lately.”

His expression softened slightly. “College can be overwhelming, but you need to find a way to manage your distractions. If you’re struggling with the material, I’m more than willing to help. But I need you to meet me halfway.”

She nodded, feeling a mixture of guilt and gratitude. “I’ll do better, sir. I promise.”

“Good,” he said, his tone final. “You’re capable of much more, Miss Sanzuku. Don’t let your potential go to waste.”

As she left the classroom, her cheeks still warm with embarrassment, she resolved to try harder—but she couldn’t ignore the weight of the memories still clinging to her like a shadow. It was going to be a long road to finding peace.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The chime of the lunch bell echoed through the hallways, signaling a break for most students, but [Name] felt no relief. As others flooded the cafeteria in groups, their chatter filling the air with a buzz of life, she lingered near the entrance, her appetite nonexistent. The weight of recent events pressed down on her chest like a stone, robbing her of any desire to eat.

Clutching her bag tighter against her side, she made a quiet decision: she needed to escape.

Stepping outside, she was greeted by the cool midday breeze, carrying with it the faint scent of roses. The sun hung high in the sky, its golden rays casting a soft glow over the sprawling campus. [Name]’s feet carried her almost on instinct toward the rose garden, one of the most serene and secluded spots on campus.

The garden was as breathtaking as ever. Rows upon rows of vibrant roses in every shade imaginable stretched out before her, their delicate petals swaying gently in the wind. At the center of the garden stood a grand, stone water fountain, its base entwined with vines of red and white roses. Water cascaded from its tiers, the sound a soothing melody that mingled with the rustling leaves.

[Name] approached the wooden bench beside the fountain, its surface polished smooth by time and weather. She eased herself onto it, setting her bag down and folding her hands in her lap. The wind tugged at her hair, making it dance around her face in soft waves, the hair ties at the ends of her hair fluttering like banners. For a brief moment, she looked ethereal—an image of calm against the backdrop of nature’s quiet beauty.

She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. The scent of roses filled her lungs, mingling with the crispness of the autumn air.

Just breathe, she told herself.

The garden was silent, save for the gentle gurgle of the fountain and the occasional chirp of a bird in the distance. The peacefulness of the scene stood in stark contrast to the turmoil in her heart. Yet, for the first time in days, she felt a sliver of solace.

She leaned back slightly, tilting her head to feel the sunlight on her face. Her mind, however, refused to stay quiet. The memory of Raichi’s razor-sharp teeth, the suffocating grip of his hands, and the cold, piercing pain of his bite clawed at the edges of her thoughts. She clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging into her palms.

“Why can’t I just forget?” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audibles over the fountain’s song.

The words hung in the air, carried away by the wind as if the garden itself were trying to console her. She sighed, opening her eyes and staring at the fountain’s cascading water. Its rhythmic flow was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic.

This place feels so far removed from everything. Like another world entirely.

She reached up and touched the bandage on her neck, hidden beneath the high collar of her shirt. The small action made her wince as a dull ache radiated from the wound. She pulled her hand away quickly, as if the contact had burned her.

“I won’t let it define me,” she murmured, her voice firmer this time.

[Name] tried to focus on the beauty around her, letting the vibrant colors and fresh scents of the roses fill her senses. The wind carried a faint, sweet melody as it rustled the petals and leaves, almost like a gentle lullaby. For a moment, she allowed herself to believe that she could leave her fears behind—that she could bury them here in this garden and move forward.

But deep down, she knew the road ahead would not be so easy.

She closed her eyes again, drawing in another deep breath and exhaling slowly. The breeze tugged at her once more, and this time she smiled faintly, imagining it was the garden’s way of reassuring her.

“Just for now,” she said softly, almost as if speaking to the roses themselves, “I’ll pretend everything’s okay.”

And for a little while, she sat there, letting the tranquility of the garden envelop her like a warm embrace. It wasn’t a solution, but it was a start. Sometimes, that was enough.

The soft tranquility of the rose garden wrapped around [Name] like a comforting blanket. The rustling of leaves and the delicate gurgle of the fountain seemed to hum a song meant only for her ears. Her head leaned back slightly, her eyes closed as she inhaled the sweet scent of roses, the moment a rare escape from the whirlwind of her thoughts.

Then, a sudden voice pierced the serenity.

“Pardon me, I hope I didn’t startle you.”

[Name]’s eyes flew open as she jerked forward, her heart pounding in her chest. She turned sharply toward the sound, her breath catching in her throat. Standing a few feet away, at the edge of the rose bushes, was a figure she didn’t recognize.

“I apologize,” the boy said quickly, his tone warm and soothing, as though he were calming a frightened animal. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just... a rare sight, seeing someone here alone.”

[Name] studied him warily, her shoulders tense. The boy was tall, with dark skin that seemed to catch the sunlight in a warm glow. His eyes, a deep brown, were kind but sharp, watching her with a curiosity that was disarming rather than intrusive. His short black hair, cropped in a clean buzz cut, added to his composed appearance.

“I... it’s alright,” [Name] stammered, though her voice betrayed her nerves. She pressed her hands against her lap to steady them, reminding herself to breathe.

The boy smiled gently and took a small step closer, his movements slow and measured. “I won’t come any closer if it makes you uncomfortable,” he said, his tone calm. “But you seemed... lost in thought. Sometimes it helps to talk.”

[Name] hesitated. There was no malice in his demeanor, but her paranoia gnawed at the edges of her mind. She had been so careful, so guarded since that night. Could she trust anyone?

“I... I’m fine, really,” she murmured, her eyes darting to the fountain as if seeking refuge in its constant flow.

The boy tilted his head slightly, studying her as if trying to gauge her true feelings. Then, with a polite nod, he moved to the other side of the bench and sat down, keeping a respectful distance.

“I should introduce myself. My name is Julian Loki,” he said, his French accent adding an elegant rhythm to his words. His posture was relaxed, yet there was an air of confidence about him, a quiet assurance that made his presence both intriguing and calming.

[Name] glanced at him, her nerves still taut but beginning to loosen. “[Name],” she replied softly, her voice barely audible.

Julian’s gaze didn’t waver as he smiled again. “A pleasure, [Name]. I couldn’t help but notice you seemed... troubled. If you don’t mind me saying so.”

Her hands gripped the edge of the bench. She wanted to deny it, to brush it off and assure him that everything was fine. But his patience, his calm demeanor, made her falter. She glanced at him again, this time meeting his eyes, and saw no judgment there—only quiet understanding.

“It’s... been a tough few days,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. She looked away, ashamed of the vulnerability that slipped through her words. “Something happened, something bad. I don’t want to drag anyone into it, but... I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Julian nodded, his expression thoughtful. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he spoke. “Life has a way of throwing storms at us when we least expect them,” he said, his voice low and steady. “It’s not always fair, and it’s not always easy. But those storms don’t last forever.”

[Name] listened, her gaze fixed on the fountain. His words were simple, but there was a weight to them, as though he spoke from experience.

“Sometimes,” Julian continued, “it feels like the darkness will swallow us whole. But in those moments, we have to remember: the light is still there, even if we can’t see it. And when we come out of the storm, we’re stronger for it.”

She turned to him, her eyes wide. “How do you... stay so calm? So... certain?”

Julian smiled, a faint hint of melancholy touching his features. “Because I’ve faced my share of storms too,” he said simply. “And I’ve learned that strength doesn’t mean ignoring the pain. It means enduring it, accepting it, and moving forward anyway.”

As he spoke, his hand reached out to the nearest rose bush, his fingers brushing delicately against a bloom. He plucked a single white rose, holding it up to admire its pristine beauty.

“This rose,” he said, his voice soft, “grew despite the thorns that surrounded it. Despite the harshness of the world, it blossomed into something beautiful.” He turned to her, his gaze warm and steady. “And so will you.”

[Name] felt her chest tighten, not with fear or sadness, but with a warmth she hadn’t felt in days. She managed a small smile, her voice quiet as she said, “Thank you.”

Julian’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, lifting the rose toward her. His fingers gently tilted her chin, his touch light and respectful. “The beauty in life,” he said softly, “is what’s right in front of us. We just have to see it.”

With that, he tucked the white rose behind her ear, stepping back slightly to admire his handiwork. The stark white of the rose against her dark hair gave her an almost otherworldly appearance, her features framed with an ethereal glow.

For a moment, Julian seemed captivated, his brown eyes lingering on her. “You’re stronger than you realize, [Name],” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

[Name] felt her cheeks flush, her heart fluttering at his words. “I... I don’t know what to say,” she admitted, her voice shy.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Julian replied, his smile soft. “Just keep going. One step at a time.”

And as they sat there in the rose garden, the fountain singing its gentle song and the wind carrying the scent of roses, [Name] felt a small but steady spark of hope rekindle within her.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The warm glow of sunlight streamed through the glass-paneled windows of the business building, illuminating the bustling corridor as students shuffled to their next classes. [Name] walked among them, her steps lighter than they had been in days. For the first time since the dreadful night in the gym, she felt a sense of peace. Julian’s words lingered in her mind like a protective shield, warding off the darker memories that had haunted her.

When she entered the lecture hall, the murmuring of her classmates filled the air. Her shoulders were straight, her chin held high, and a small but genuine smile graced her lips. As she slid into her usual seat, her friends immediately noticed the change in her demeanor.

Hitomi, seated beside her, gave her a once-over, her sharp eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You look... different,” she remarked, folding her arms over her notebook. “What’s going on with you?”

“Different?” [Name] tilted her head, feigning innocence as she unpacked her supplies. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Hitomi replied, her tone dry. “You’ve been walking around like the weight of the world’s been crushing you for days, and now you’re suddenly all sunshine and rainbows?”

“Hitomi,” Ranze chimed in from the next row, leaning back to join the conversation. His usual playful grin was present as he wagged a finger. “Don’t be so harsh. Maybe she’s just having a good day for once,once.”

“Exactly!” [Name] nodded in agreement, laughing softly. “Can’t a girl have a good day?”

“Of course you can!” Yo said, his soft voice laced with encouragement. “It’s nice to see you looking more like yourself, [Name]-chan. Whatever changed, it seems like it’s helped a lot.”

Ranze gave her a thumbs-up, his teal eyes sparkling with approval. “Yeah, you’re glowing, [Name]. Whatever’s got you in this mood, keep it up. It suits you, you.”

[Name] flushed slightly at their compliments, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you. I guess I just... needed some time to clear my head. I had a moment of clarity, that’s all.”

Hitomi leaned her elbow on the desk, resting her chin in her palm as she continued to scrutinize her friend. “A moment of clarity, huh?” she said, raising a skeptical brow. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with why you skipped lunch earlier, would it?”

[Name] froze for a fraction of a second before shaking her head with a casual smile. “Nope, nothing like that. I just needed some fresh air, that’s all.”

Hitomi wasn’t convinced, but before she could press further, the professor entered the room, calling for everyone’s attention. The students quickly settled into their seats, the chatter dying down as the lecture began.

[Name] let out a small breath of relief, grateful for the distraction. She could feel Hitomi’s gaze lingering on her, but she kept her focus firmly on the professor, jotting down notes with renewed energy.

Throughout the lecture, Ranze occasionally leaned over to whisper playful comments, drawing quiet laughter from both [Name] and Yo. Hitomi remained more reserved, though she occasionally glanced at [Name] with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

When class ended and the students began to pack up their things, Yo turned to [Name] with a kind smile. “Hey, if you ever need to talk, you know we’re here for you, right?”

[Name]’s heart warmed at his words, and she nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Yo-kun. That means a lot.”

Ranze slung his bag over his shoulder, his grin widening. “Same goes for me. If anyone’s giving you a hard time, just say the word, and I’ll handle it.”

“Thanks, Kurona,” she replied with a laugh. “But I’m fine. Really.”

As they exited the lecture hall, Hitomi walked beside her, her expression still thoughtful. “Just remember,” she said quietly, “if you’re hiding something, it’s only going to get harder to keep it bottled up.”

[Name] glanced at her, momentarily caught off guard by her perceptiveness. But she forced a smile, her voice steady as she said, “I’ll keep that in mind, Hitomi. But honestly, I’m okay.”

Hitomi didn’t look entirely convinced, but she nodded nonetheless. “Alright. Just don’t forget we’re here for you.”

[Name]’s steps felt lighter as they headed to their next destination. Though she knew she couldn’t share the truth of what had happened, the support of her friends—and the lingering encouragement from Julian—gave her the strength to face the day ahead. For now, that was enough.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a soft golden glow over the campus as [Name] made her way toward the garden. Her feet crunched against the gravel path, but her mind was elsewhere, the fresh memory of Julian’s kindness still swirling in her thoughts. She had told the others she was going to the restroom, but in truth, she just needed some air—some solitude.

As she rounded a corner, she abruptly collided with someone, the impact nearly knocking her backward. A startled gasp escaped her lips, and she looked up to see Haru Hayate towering over her, his face emotionless but with a hint of amusement.

“Oh, sorry about that!” she blurted, stepping back and bowing slightly. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Haru smiled, brushing off her apology with a casual wave of his hand. “No big deal, really. Happens to the best of us.”

Behind him stood a small group of guys lounging on the benches and leaning against the surrounding railings, their casual camaraderie evident in the way they joked and nudged each other. Recognizing a few faces, [Name] suddenly felt the weight of their attention shift to her.

“Yo, isn’t that [Name] Sanzuku?” Nio Kazuma called out, his voice carrying a playful edge as he grinned.

“Yeah, it is,” Aiku Oliver chimed in, his signature smirk already in place. “Miss Cutie herself.” He then gestured to the white flower still tucked neatly behind her ear.

Her cheeks flushed lightly at the nickname as she gave a shy wave. “Um, hi... I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Interrupt?” Haru was a little shocked, stepping aside to gesture to the group. “Not at all! In fact, this is perfect timing. You can meet the rest of us.”

[Name] blinked as he introduced her to the U20, a group she vaguely recognized from scattered encounters around campus but hadn’t fully connected the dots on until now.

The first to step forward was a young man with sharp, spiky white hair that jutted upwards like lightning bolts. His small brown eyes sparkled with energy as he gave her a wide, toothy grin.

“Teppei Neru, at your service!” he said cheerfully, giving her a dramatic bow before straightening with an exaggerated flourish. “You’re the talk of the campus lately, y’know. Everyone’s saying there’s this basketball player who’s making waves.”

[Name] felt the heat rush to her cheeks. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that...”

“Nonsense!” Neru replied with a wink. “Keep it up, and you might just give us soccer players a run for our money.”

His upbeat energy was infectious, and despite herself, [Name] found her lips curling into a smile. “Thank you, Teppei. That’s really kind of you.”

“Let me guess, he’s already trying to recruit you for his fan club,” another voice interjected, light and teasing.

[Name] turned to see a boy with soft, salmon-pink hair streaked with black and white highlights. His blue doe-like eyes twinkled with mischief as he stepped forward, giving her a friendly wave.

“Kitsunezato Teru,” he said, his tone warm and inviting. “And I have to say, that rose suits you perfectly.”

[Name] blinked in surprise before instinctively touching the flower behind her ear. “Oh, thank you... I—”

“I’m serious,” Teru continued, tilting his head as if to admire her from a different angle. “It’s rare to see someone pull off something so effortlessly elegant.”

Her cheeks deepened in color, and she ducked her head slightly. “You’re really sweet... Thank you, Teru.”

“And this one doesn’t need an introduction,” Haru chimed in, nodding toward a darker-skinned boy leaning casually against the fountain’s edge.

[Name] looked at him for a moment, not knowing who this person is before, her eyes widened slightly as she recognized Miroku Darai, his buzz-cut hair gleaming under the sunlight and intricate henna tattoos snaking along his arms.

“We have Econ Bio together,” he reminded her, his tone calm and steady as his black eyes met hers. “You sit near Isagi, right?”

She flushed with embarrassment, realizing he had noticed her before she had ever noticed him. “Oh! I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize... That’s terrible of me.”

“It’s fine,” Darai replied with a shrug. “I’m not exactly the type to make a scene. But now you know.”

She gave him a sheepish smile. “I’ll make sure to say hi from now on.”

He nodded once, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Fair enough.”

The introductions didn’t end there, with the familiar faces of Sendo, Kento, and Aiku chiming in to tease or welcome her further.

“So, [Name],” Nio said, leaning forward with an exaggerated grin. “What’s it like hanging out with us soccer royalty?”

“Don’t inflate your ego too much,” Haru teased, nudging him playfully.

“It’s nice,” [Name] said with a small laugh. “You’re all... very lively.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Aiku quipped, his smirk as sharp as ever.

As they continued to chat, [Name] found herself relaxing in their presence, the warmth of their camaraderie melting some of her initial nervousness. Each of them had such distinct personalities, yet they all shared an easygoing energy that was hard to resist.

For the first time in days, she felt... normal. The heaviness of recent events seemed to lift, even if only temporarily.

“Well, [Name],” Sendo said, breaking through her thoughts. “You’re welcome to hang out with us anytime. Just don’t let Aiku sweet-talk you too much.”

Aiku raised a brow, feigning innocence. “Me? Sweet-talk? Never.”

[Name] laughed softly, shaking her head. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As the group dispersed and headed back to their respective activities, [Name] lingered for a moment, her heart lighter than it had been in days. Though she had merely bumped into them by chance, their cheerful energy had been exactly what she needed.

“Maybe today won’t be so bad after all,” she murmured, glancing up at the clear blue sky before heading back inside.

The sun was beginning to dip lower into the sky, casting warm amber tones across the campus as the group’s laughter echoed near the rose garden. [Name], finding herself more comfortable with the U20 members than she expected, decided to bring up a familiar topic.

“You know,” she began, her voice light and casual as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “you guys remind me a little of my cousin, Ruka. He’s always been kind of protective and outgoing, too. I think you’d get along with him.”

The moment the name left her lips, an icy tension fell over the group like a sudden winter breeze. The easy smiles and playful banter vanished, replaced by a collective grimace that darkened each of their expressions.

“Ruka Sanzuku?” Aiku repeated, his smirk twisting into a bitter sneer.

[Name] blinked, taken aback. “Yes… Do you know him?”

“Know him?” Sendo muttered, crossing his arms and leaning back with a sharp exhale. “We know him alright. And believe me, he’s not someone we’d ever want to deal with again.”

“What?” [Name] asked, confused, painting her features. “Why would you say that?”

“I can’t believe he’s your cousin,” Nio said with a scoff, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ruka Sanzuku is... well, let’s just say he’s not exactly a fan favorite around here.”

“What do you mean?” [Name]’s voice was tight now, her hands curling into her lap.

Teppei was the first to speak, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced with a somber expression. “Back in his first year, Ruka used to pick on me and Itsuki a lot. We were both new to the team and still finding our footing, but he made sure we knew we were at the bottom of the ladder.”

“He’d make snide remarks every time we made a mistake,” Itsuki added quietly, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. “It wasn’t just the teasing—it was the way he made it seem like we didn’t belong. Like we weren’t worth being here.”

Kento leaned back against the fountain, shaking his head. “And it wasn’t just them. He talked behind everyone’s back. If you weren’t perfect in his eyes, he’d find a way to tear you down, even if it was just with words. The guy was a master manipulator.”

“He’d act all high and mighty in public,” Darai chimed in, his voice tinged with anger. “But behind the scenes? Total douchebag. He was always trying to one-up everyone, like he needed to prove he was better than the rest of us.”

[Name]’s heart sank with every word. This wasn’t the Ruka she knew—the protective cousin who had always looked out for her, who offered her advice and comfort when she needed it most. Hearing this side of him was like hearing about a stranger.

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“Oh, we’re sure,” Teru said softly, his usual friendly tone edged with disappointment. “He made it his mission to make some of us miserable. It’s hard to forget that kind of behavior.”

“And the worst part?” Darai’s deep voice cut through the growing tension like a blade. “He never apologized. He just left. Like we weren’t even worth that.”

Her lips parted to respond, but no words came out. The knot in her stomach tightened as the reality of their words settled over her. Could Ruka really have been this cruel? And if so, why had he never shown that side of himself to her?

The U20 members, distracted by their own frustrations, didn’t notice the growing discomfort on her face.

“Honestly, I’m just glad he’s gone,” Haru said, his tone lighter now as if the confession had lifted a weight off his chest. “We don’t have to deal with his ego anymore.”

“Yeah,” Nio agreed. “It’s like the air is fresher without him around.”

[Name] couldn’t listen anymore. As they continued their discussion, their words blurring into background noise, she quietly excused herself, slipping away before they could notice.

Her footsteps were hurried as she made her way down the path, her head bowed and her heart heavy. The sun was lower now, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch out endlessly before her.

How could this be true? How could the Ruka she admired—the Ruka who had always treated her like a precious sibling—be the same person they described?

She stopped near the edge of the garden, gripping the edge of a nearby bench for support. The weight of their words pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Why?” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. “Why would he act that way? And why didn’t he tell me?”

Her mind raced with questions, but there were no answers to be found. All she knew was that she couldn’t face the U20 members again—not right now. Not when the image of her beloved cousin had been shattered so thoroughly.

Forcing herself to take a deep breath, [Name] straightened up and wiped at her eyes. She needed to think. To process. And most of all, she needed to find out the truth.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The sun poured through the large windows of the campus gym, illuminating the polished wooden floor. The sound of sneakers squeaking, instructors barking orders, and classmates encouraging each other filled the spacious room. [Name] knelt on her mat, her hands pressed to the floor as she worked through a series of push-ups.

Her arms trembled slightly, her breaths uneven. The ache in her muscles wasn’t the usual satisfying burn from a workout—it felt deeper, like exhaustion sinking into her bones. She hadn’t eaten lunch, and now, it was catching up to her.

“Are you okay, [Name]?” Meguru’s cheerful voice broke through the haze as he leaned down next to her, his ever-present grin slightly subdued by concern.

“Yeah, you don’t look so great,” Nijiro added, his brow furrowed as he paused mid-stretch.

[Name] forced a weak smile, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face. “I’m fine, really,” she said, though her voice was softer than usual.

Meguru crouched closer, tilting his head like a curious puppy. “You sure? You’re sweating buckets, and not in the ‘I just crushed a workout’ way.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated, more firmly this time, even as a wave of dizziness threatened to topple her.

The class moved into stretches. [Name] sat cross-legged on her mat, reaching forward to touch her toes. The motion made her head spin, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will the nausea away.

“You’re looking a little green,” Nijiro said, kneeling beside her with genuine concern.

“I just need a moment,” [Name] muttered, her voice tight.

But it wasn’t long before her body betrayed her. As the class transitioned into standing stretches, [Name] swayed on her feet, clutching her stomach. Her vision blurred, and her knees buckled slightly.

“Whoa, hey!” Meguru was the first to dart to her side, grabbing her arm to steady her.

The commotion caught the attention of Noa, the gym instructor. His sharp eyes locked onto the situation instantly. “[Name],” he called out, striding over with authority. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“I’m fine,” she tried to insist, her voice weak.

Noa crossed his arms, his expression unyielding. “That’s not what it looks like. You’re pale, and you can barely stand. Barou!”

At the sound of his name, Barou Shouei looked up from his spot across the gym. His imposing figure towered over the others, and his sharp red eyes glinted with a mix of annoyance and obligation.

“Take her to the infirmary,” Noa instructed without hesitation.

Barou sighed heavily, clearly unamused by being pulled away from his workout, but he didn’t argue. “Fine,” he said shortly, making his way over to [Name].

“Wait, I can walk,” [Name] protested weakly as Barou crouched slightly in front of her.

“Yeah, right,” Barou replied, his tone as blunt as ever. Without waiting for further argument, he slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back, lifting her effortlessly into a bridal carry.

[Name] gasped, her face flushing crimson. “Barou! I-I said I can walk!”

Barou’s crimson eyes flicked down to her, his expression deadpan. “And fall flat on your face? Sure, sounds like a great plan.”

“Seriously, I’m fine—”

“Stop talking,” he interrupted, adjusting his grip on her slightly. “You’re light as a feather. Just let me get this over with.”

[Name]’s protests faltered. Something about his calm, no-nonsense demeanor made it hard to argue, even though she felt utterly humiliated.

As Barou carried her through the hallways, the chatter of passing students followed them.

“Isn’t that Barou? Who’s the girl?”

“She looks sick. Poor thing.”

“Man, he doesn’t look happy about it, though.”

[Name] kept her head down, her cheeks burning. “You really didn’t have to carry me like this,” she muttered.

“Would you rather I dragged you?” Barou retorted, his tone sharp but not unkind. “Quit complaining. You’re the one who pushed yourself too far.”

She bit her lip, guilt washing over her. “I just… didn’t want to seem weak,” she admitted quietly.

Barou glanced down at her, his expression softening slightly. “There’s a difference between being weak and being reckless. If you’re not taking care of yourself, you’re just making things harder for everyone else.”

His words stung, but they were undeniably true.

When they reached the infirmary, Barou pushed the door open with his shoulder, startling the school nurse, who looked up from his desk.

“What happened?” the nurse asked, standing quickly.

“She’s overworked and hasn’t eaten,” Barou said bluntly, setting [Name] down gently on one of the cots.

[Name] avoided his gaze, her face still flushed with embarrassment.

The nurse sighed, already reaching for his clipboard. “This happens more often than you’d think. I’ll take it from here, Mr. Barou. Thank you for bringing her.”

Barou gave a curt nod but didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he looked down at [Name] one last time. “Eat something next time. Don’t make this a habit,” he said firmly, his tone carrying a hint of concern beneath the gruffness.

Before she could respond, he turned and strode out of the infirmary, leaving her both mortified and oddly touched by his unexpected care.

As the nurse began to get up from his seat, [Name] couldn’t help but reflect on Barou’s words. Maybe he wasn’t as intimidating as he seemed.

The infirmary was softly lit, its clean, white walls adorned with motivational posters and a clock that ticked steadily, filling the otherwise quiet room. [Name] sat on the cot, her back against the wall, fiddling with the hem of her gym shirt. The events of the day had left her drained, both physically and emotionally. The door clicked shut behind Barou, his departure leaving an odd stillness in the room.

“Alright, now let’s see what we’re working with here,” a cheerful yet faintly exasperated voice broke the silence. A man strolled in from the adjoining office, clipboard in hand. He wore a pristine white lab coat, but his appearance was far from typical. His hair was a soft pastel rainbow, cascading in messy tufts that caught the fluorescent light, and his golden eyes were framed by unnaturally long lashes. Freckles dusted his sharp cheekbones and nose, giving him an almost whimsical look.

“Pablo Cavasoz,” he introduced himself briskly, his voice carrying a sing-song lilt, as if he wasn’t entirely bothered by whatever emergency had brought her here. “Dr. Cavasoz to you. And you must be today’s victim of the ‘I didn’t take care of myself’ epidemic.”

[Name] blinked, caught off guard by his sudden energy. “I—I’m not a victim. Just… a little tired.”

“A little tired, huh?” Pablo raised an arched brow, placing his clipboard on a nearby table. “Sweetheart, you’re about two steps away from passing out completely. Now, let me take a closer look before you argue yourself right back into this cot tomorrow.”

His bluntness was startling, but there was something disarming about his vibrant presence. She allowed him to check her pulse and temperature without protest, her gaze flicking to the way his pastel hair swayed as he worked.

“You’ve definitely overexerted yourself,” he said, tapping his pen against the clipboard rhythmically. “Nausea, lightheadedness, fatigue... the holy trinity of poor self-care. And I’m guessing you skipped lunch?”

[Name] hesitated before nodding. “I wasn’t hungry earlier.”

Pablo let out an exaggerated sigh, placing a hand over his chest as if she’d wounded him personally. “Skipping meals? Inexcusable. Food is sacred, darling. It’s literally fuel for this glorious machine called your body.” He gestured to himself dramatically, then leaned down to meet her eyes. “You wouldn’t let your car run on an empty tank, would you?”

“No,” [Name] admitted sheepishly.

“Exactly.” He straightened up, striding to a cabinet filled with supplies. As he rummaged through its contents, he continued speaking, half to himself and half to her. “Kids these days... always trying to push themselves to the brink. I’m surrounded by athletes and geniuses who think they’re invincible. But even gods need to eat, yes?”

She bit back a laugh, his theatricality easing the awkwardness. “I guess.”

From the cabinet, Pablo pulled out a small packet of medicine, a bottle of water, and a brightly colored snack bar with cartoon characters on the wrapper. He walked back to her, placing the items on the small tray next to her cot with a flourish. “Alright, here’s the deal: take this medicine to settle your stomach, drink this entire bottle of water—hydration is key, darling—and eat this snack. It’s adorable, and adorable things heal the soul.”

[Name] glanced at the snack bar. “Did you... pick this because of how it looks?”

“Of course!” Pablo declared proudly, placing a hand on his hip. “As the cutest 23-year-old in this building, I have a duty to spread aesthetic joy wherever I go. And let me tell you, Harajuku has spoiled me for anything less than perfection.”

She couldn’t help but smile, his energy infectious. “Thank you, Dr. Cavasoz.”

“Please, call me Pablo,” he corrected, waving her gratitude away. “Formality is for boring people. Now, eat up while I lecture you some more about self-care. You’re not leaving until I’m satisfied that you won’t collapse on me again.”

As she began nibbling on the snack, Pablo leaned against the counter, his golden eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “You know, it’s not just about eating, though. Whatever stress is weighing on you, it’s got to be managed. You’ve got this tense aura, like you’re carrying the weight of the world. Care to share, or should I start guessing wildly?”

[Name] hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “I’ve just... had a lot on my mind lately. Things have been complicated.”

“Ah, life,” Pablo said knowingly, folding his arms. “Always throwing curveballs when you least expect them. But trust me, darling, nothing is insurmountable. You’re young, bright, and—if I may say—absolutely radiant with that rose in your hair. You’ll figure it out.”

His compliment made her cheeks warm, and she reached up to touch the flower Julian had tucked behind her ear. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I think I needed to hear that.”

“Good,” Pablo replied, his tone softening. “Because you’re stronger than you think. And the next time you’re feeling overwhelmed? Come see me. We can talk it out, or I can just dazzle you with my unparalleled cuteness.”

[Name] laughed, feeling lighter than she had in days. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Smart girl,” he said with a wink. “Now finish that snack and rest up. No more skipping meals, or I’ll make it my personal mission to follow you around campus with a lunchbox.”

As he walked back to his desk, humming a cheerful tune, [Name] leaned back against the cot. For the first time in a while, she felt like things might just be okay.

The infirmary felt cozier now, its sterile ambiance softened by Pablo’s lively chatter. [Name] found herself smiling, engrossed in a surprisingly lighthearted conversation about their favorite cute things. Pablo’s face lit up as he waxed poetic about Pikachu’s charm and Kirby’s boundless adorableness, gesturing animatedly as he spoke.

“You know, if Kirby could absorb my cuteness,” Pablo joked, “he’d probably reach a level that humanity isn’t ready for. Imagine the chaos!”

[Name] laughed, the sound gentle but genuine. “He’d probably take your rainbow hair too.”

“Obviously! It’s iconic,” Pablo said, tossing his head dramatically. Then his gaze softened, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm. “But I’m curious, [Name], what about you? What adorable character holds the top spot in your heart?”

She hesitated for a moment, feeling almost shy. “Wish Me Mel,” she admitted. “From Sanrio.”

Pablo’s eyes widened, and he clasped his hands together. “Oh, Wish Me Mel! The dreamy bunny with her letter-writing adventures and that pastel aesthetic? Absolutely divine choice. And honestly, so fitting for you.”

“You think so?” [Name] asked, tilting her head.

“Of course,” Pablo replied. “She’s all about spreading kindness and connection through her letters, right? I see that same warmth in you. A little daydreamy, sure, but who isn’t?”

[Name] blushed faintly at his observation, fiddling with the edge of her blanket. “I guess she’s always been a favorite because she feels... hopeful, I guess.”

“Hopeful,” Pablo echoed, nodding. “That’s the kind of vibe we all need in our lives. You’ve got excellent taste, darling. Sanrio should hire you as an ambassador.”

Their laughter filled the room, but as the conversation trailed off, [Name]’s thoughts shifted. She glanced at the clock on the wall, worry creeping into her expression.

“Pablo,” she started hesitantly, “I should probably get back to class. Mr. Blake is my AP English teacher, and he’s... really strict. If he thinks I’m skipping, it’ll be a nightmare.”

Pablo leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a knowing smile. “Adam Blake, huh? Don’t worry about him. I’ll personally inform him that you were here, under my expert care. He can take it up with me if he has a problem. And trust me, nobody argues with the cutest 23-year-old in this building.”

“But—”

“No buts, darling,” Pablo interrupted gently. “Your job right now is to rest and recover. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, and your body’s trying to tell you something. Listen to it.”

[Name] hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Okay. You’re right. Thank you, Pablo.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said with a wink, gesturing toward the cot. “Now, lie back and close those pretty eyes. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Despite her initial resistance, [Name] found herself relaxing against the pillow, exhaustion finally catching up with her. Within moments, her breathing slowed, and she drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Pablo observed her quietly for a moment, his usual playful demeanor giving way to something more reflective. He noticed the faint lines of worry on her face begin to soften as she slept, her expression serene. Gently, he reached for the white rose tucked behind her ear, its petals beginning to wilt. The once-vibrant bloom now looked tired, its edges curling inward.

With a soft sigh, Pablo stood and walked to the trash bin near his desk. “Even beauty fades when it’s under too much pressure,” he murmured to himself, letting the rose drop into the bin. His golden eyes lingered on it for a moment before he turned back to [Name], his lips curving into a small, protective smile.

“She’ll bounce back,” he said softly, as if assuring the empty room. “Just needs a little time and care. Like all precious things.”

The room fell silent except for the gentle ticking of the clock and the rhythmic hum of the air conditioner. Pablo returned to his desk, the faintest traces of a smile still on his face, as [Name] slept peacefully for the first time in what felt like days.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The infirmary was quiet, bathed in the soft, sterile glow of late afternoon light filtering through the blinds. The faint hum of the air conditioning filled the room, a gentle rhythm that matched [Name]’s slow and even breathing. As she rested on the cot, her body finally beginning to heal from the stresses of the day, her mind floated in a dreamless void of exhaustion.

But then, a sensation pierced through the fog of her sleep—a touch.

It was subtle at first, almost indistinguishable from a light breeze brushing over her skin. Yet, it was too deliberate to ignore. Warm fingers combed softly through her hair, the strands slipping easily between them like silk. The motion was slow and purposeful, neither hurried nor careless, as if whoever was touching her was savoring the texture of her hair.

[Name] stirred slightly but couldn’t wake up, her consciousness trapped in a hazy in-between. Her body felt leaden, unresponsive to her attempts to shake off the heavy veil of sleep.

The touch didn’t stop.

‘Someone is touching me…’

Fingertips trailed down from her hair, brushing over her shoulder with a featherlight caress. They lingered there for a moment, circling in a way that sent shivers down her spine. It wasn’t painful, but it was far from comforting. The sensation traveled lower, grazing along her arm before tracing the curve of her waist. She felt it acutely now—an undeniable presence. Yet, her eyelids refused to open, her limbs heavy as if pinned down by an invisible weight.

A soft sound, almost like a sigh, broke the silence. It wasn’t hers. It was... someone else’s.

Her heart began to race, the panic rising within her. Who is this? What’s happening? Her instincts screamed at her to move, to wake, to do anything, but her body betrayed her.

The hand returned, sliding back up to her shoulder before moving toward her face. She felt the pads of fingers graze her cheek, the touch impossibly light yet unbearably intimate. They lingered there, tracing the line of her jaw before pausing just below her chin.

[Name]’s breath hitched. She wanted to scream, to pull away, but she was locked in place.

And then... it stopped.

The touch was gone, leaving only a ghostly warmth where it had been. Slowly, the oppressive heaviness lifted, and [Name]’s body began to respond. Her fingers twitched, her breathing deepened, and finally, with a sharp intake of air, her eyes flew open.

The infirmary was exactly as she had left it: the faint antiseptic smell in the air, the steady hum of the air conditioner, and the muted light falling over the empty cot next to hers. There was no one else in the room, no sign of a presence.

She bolted upright, her chest heaving as her eyes darted around the space. “What... what just happened?” she whispered, her voice shaky and barely audible over the thundering of her heart.

Her hands instinctively went to her hair, smoothing it down as if to confirm it hadn’t been touched. Her skin felt strange—heightened, hypersensitive—as if the memory of those phantom touches still lingered. She rubbed at her shoulder, then her waist, but there was no evidence that anyone had been there.

Standing, her legs wobbled slightly as she steadied herself against the cot. “Was that... a dream?” she murmured, though the word felt inadequate. It had been too real, too vivid.

Her gaze flicked to the door, which was shut. Pablo had said he’d step out briefly to check on something. She was supposed to be alone. Yet, the pit in her stomach told her otherwise.

Walking to the small mirror on the wall, she examined her reflection. She looked pale, her eyes slightly sunken with lingering exhaustion. Her hair was messy but otherwise untouched. She touched her face, remembering the sensation of those fingers tracing her jawline.

A cold shiver ran down her spine, and she turned away from the mirror, pacing the room. She stopped by the trash bin, her eyes falling on the wilted white rose Pablo had discarded earlier. Its petals were more shriveled now, curling inward like a dying star.

Her fingers grazed the edge of the bin, and for a moment, she considered picking the rose up. But something held her back, an instinctive aversion she couldn’t explain.

“Get a grip,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. “It was just a dream. Just a weird, vivid dream.”

But deep down, she wasn’t so sure. Something about the infirmary felt heavier now, as if the air itself was watching her.

She sank back onto the cot, trying to steady her breathing. Whatever had happened—dream or not—she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been there. And worse, she couldn’t tell if they had left.

The infirmary clock ticked louder than ever as [Name]'s eyes fell on its face: 7:51 PM.

Her stomach sank. “Oh no…” she whispered, her voice trembling. She had missed not one but two classes and her beloved club practice.

Scrambling for her phone on the side table, she pressed the screen awake. The brightness momentarily blinded her, but what she saw made her heart drop even further: 79 missed messages. 29 missed calls. 15 voice messages. All from one name: Ruka.

“Great. I’m dead,” she muttered, already imagining his scolding tone and sharp words. Quickly swiping through the endless stream of messages, her pulse quickened with each increasingly frantic text.

> Ruka: Where the hell are you??

Ruka: Answer your phone!!

Ruka: [Name], are you okay? I’m about to call the college!

Ruka: Seriously, where are you?

Her breathing grew shallow as she saw his latest messages.

> Ruka: If you don’t respond in the next 5 minutes, I’m coming to find you.

“Merde,” she cursed under her breath, clutching her phone to her chest. She couldn’t face him right now—not after everything. She hastily scribbled a note for Pablo, thanking him for taking care of her and apologizing for leaving so suddenly. Placing the note on the desk, she swung the infirmary door open and stepped out into the chilly night air.

As soon as she emerged onto campus, she realized how late it had truly become. The sun had long since set, leaving the sky a deep indigo, with the faintest glow of stars peeking through. Streetlights cast long, eerie shadows across the empty pathways, and the wind bit at her exposed skin.

Her dormitory was on the far side of campus—a good fifteen-minute walk, and that was if she moved quickly. But something about the dark made her uneasy. Instinctively clutching her bag tighter, she broke into a jog. The gravel pathway crunched beneath her feet, and her breath puffed in small clouds as the wind picked up.

“I’ll explain everything to Ruka later. He’ll understand... maybe,” she muttered, trying to reassure herself.

But then, her foot caught on something—a loose piece of gravel or a crack in the path—and she went down hard. The impact sent a sharp jolt through her hands and knees as they met the unforgiving ground.

“Ahh!” she hissed, the sting immediate and intense. Her palms were scraped, but her knee—her knee was worse. Blood began to well up, trickling in a dark crimson stream down her leg, staining her socks. She tried to push herself up, but the pain was searing, forcing her to sit back on the cold ground.

“Not now, not now,” she whispered through clenched teeth, brushing at the dirt around her wound. The sight of her blood made her stomach churn. Her breaths came faster, more erratic, as she struggled to figure out what to do.

Suddenly, a shadow appeared in her periphery.

“You okay?”

Her head snapped up. Standing a few feet away, silhouetted by a flickering streetlight, was Rensuke Kunigami.

Tall and broad-shouldered, he looked like a knight out of a storybook, his orange hair catching the light. His expression was neutral at first, but then his gaze shifted—to her knee. His eyes narrowed slightly.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, taking a step closer.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she insisted, waving him off and attempting to stand. But the moment she put weight on her injured leg, she winced and faltered.

Kunigami was by her side in an instant, his strong hands gripping her arm and steadying her. “Yeah, doesn’t look fine to me. Sit back down before you make it worse.”

She reluctantly obeyed, lowering herself back to the ground. “It’s just a scrape,” she muttered, feeling embarrassed and foolish for falling in the first place.

Kunigami knelt in front of her, his face serious as he examined her knee. “That’s more than a scrape,” he said. His voice was calm, but there was something else—something tense in the way he spoke.

She followed his gaze and realized he wasn’t just looking at her wound; he was staring at it. The blood.

“Kunigami?” she asked hesitantly. His hand tightened slightly on her arm, and his jaw clenched. For a moment, he didn’t respond.

His eyes darkened, pupils dilating as they fixed on the crimson trail running down her leg. He swallowed hard, his breath deepening. “...Sorry,” he said, his voice rougher now. “I just… I—”

He abruptly turned his head away, his hand twitching as though resisting an urge. “I’ll—uh—get you to the dorms,” he said quickly, standing up and stepping back. But there was something strained about his movements, like he was holding himself back.

[Name] tried to brush off the pain, her voice steadier than she felt. "No, really, I can manage," she insisted, attempting to push herself up. She wobbled but refused to give in. "I-"

Kunigami interrupted, his voice strained and trembling with something unspoken. "You need to go. Now."

His words stopped her. There was a tremor in them, a vulnerability she hadn't heard before. She turned her gaze upward, startled. "What? Why?"

"Just go!" he barked, taking a step back, his hand pressing against his temple as though trying to suppress something.

His sudden shift frightened her, but concern overrode her fear. "Kunigami, are you okay?" she asked cautiously, inching closer despite her aching knee. She reached out to him, hoping to steady whatever internal struggle he was battling.

But then he turned toward her.

The air shifted.

Gone was the composed and soft-spoken Kunigami she had known. His orange eyes, once warm, now glinted coldly under the dim light. His expression was devoid of the kindness she was accustomed to; instead, it was carved from stone- grim, calculated, and unnervingly void of emotion.

"Kunigami?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Without a word, he stepped toward her. His presence felt suffocating, an oppressive weight that pressed down on her chest. Before she could react, he grabbed her arms with a force that made her wince, pulling her close. His biceps coiled around her like iron bands, trapping her against his chest.

"W-what are you doing? Let me go!" she cried, struggling against his hold. But her attempts to free herself were futile. His grip was unyielding, his strength overpowering her completely.

"You really shouldn't move so much," he muttered, his voice eerily calm but dripping with something sinister. "It'll only make me hungrier."

Her breath hitched. "Hungry? What... what are you talking about?"

Kunigami's face lowered toward hers, his lips brushing against her hair as he inhaled deeply. His breath was slow and deliberate, his voice darkening. "Your blood. I can smell it... taste it, almost. It's so strong, so pure." His fingers weaved through her hair, stroking it in a way that made her skin crawl.

[Name]'s pulse quickened, her body trembling. "Please... stop," she begged, her voice breaking. She pushed against his chest, desperate to put space between them, but he didn't budge.

Her defiance only seemed to spark something darker in him. His calm exterior fractured, giving way to something primal and violent. "Stop?" he said, his voice low, as if mocking her. "You don't understand. It's not something I can stop. Not anymore."

He shoved her down onto the gravel path with shocking force, pinning her under his weight. [Name] gasped, the air knocked from her lungs. She squirmed, trying to crawl away, but he grabbed her injured leg and held it firm. His orange eyes glowed in the dim light, hungry and predatory.

"No-please, don't do this!" she cried, tears streaming down her face.

Kunigami leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "You smell... intoxicating. How can I stop when you're right here, bleeding just for me?"

Before she could scream, his fangs sank into her leg. The pain was immediate and searing, a white-hot fire that burned through her veins. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out-a silent scream of agony as he drank deeply from her. The sensation was unlike anything she'd ever felt before, a mix of sharp, piercing pain and an overwhelming weakness that spread through her body like a toxin.

[Name]'s vision blurred, tears spilling uncontrollably as she felt herself slipping away. The world around her grew darker, colder, her limbs heavy and unresponsive.

Kunigami pulled back for a moment, his lips stained red, his breathing ragged. He looked down at her, his once-bright eyes now shadowed by something monstrous. He was a predator, and she his prey.

As her consciousness faded, [Name]'s lips moved weakly. Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with heartbreak and confusion.

"Why..."

And then, darkness took her.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The days following that harrowing night blurred together like a long, disorienting haze for [Name]. She tried to convince herself it was a nightmare, but the persistent ache in her thigh and the angry red wound said otherwise. She’d wake in the middle of the night, clutching her leg, reliving the searing pain of fangs piercing her skin.

What haunted her even more, though, was the mystery surrounding how she got back to her dorm. One evening, she gathered the courage to ask Hitomi about it.

“I… I don’t remember coming back to the dorm that night,” she said hesitantly while they worked on assignments together. “Do you remember seeing me?”

Hitomi blinked, tilting her head curiously. “Huh? You were already asleep when I came back. I just figured you’d turned in early. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” [Name] quickly replied, waving her hand dismissively, though her heart sank. She’d hoped Hitomi could offer her some clarity, but now she was more confused than ever.

Her days since had been consumed by a delicate balancing act. She buried herself in coursework, using the looming fall exams as a distraction. She spent time with classmates, forcing herself to smile and laugh even as she felt a gnawing unease in her gut.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

In her psychology class, [Name] found a momentary reprieve in an unexpected place: a conversation with Kenyu Yukimiya. He sat a few rows ahead of her, glasses perched on his nose, giving him a scholarly and endearing look. She’d always thought he resembled a character straight out of Harry Potter—soft-spoken, kind, and intelligent.

They crossed paths in the library during lunch one day. Kenyu had a stack of books in his arms, almost blocking his view. [Name], seeing him struggle, stepped in to help.

“Need a hand?” she asked with a grin, taking a few of the books from him.

“Oh, thank you, [Name],” he said, his smile warm and genuine. “I may have gotten a little carried away.”

She chuckled as they made their way to an empty table. “A little? You’re practically carrying the library’s entire psychology section.”

“Well, exams are around the corner,” he replied, setting the books down. “I like to over prepare. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Or better stressed than relaxed,” [Name] teased, earning a laugh from him. She found his calm demeanor comforting, a stark contrast to the chaos that had been her life recently.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

In AP Government and Politics, [Name] managed to share a lighthearted moment with Karasu Tabito. He was a sharp-witted classmate who always had a quip ready.

The teacher was explaining a particularly convoluted concept when [Name] leaned over to Tabito and whispered, “Does this feel like one big riddle to you?”

Tabito smirked, not missing a beat. “Riddle? More like a cruel joke. I think the real test is whether we survive this lecture.”

[Name] stifled a laugh, grateful for the brief levity. It reminded her that, even in the midst of her inner turmoil, there were still pockets of normalcy to cling to.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

In history class, Reiji and Akira became her unlikely allies. Reiji was quiet but attentive, while Akira was more outgoing and often took the lead in group projects. Together, they helped [Name] navigate assignments she might have otherwise struggled with.

“Here,” Reiji said one afternoon, sliding his notes toward her. “You looked like you were zoning out earlier. These might help.”

“Thanks, Reiji. I owe you one,” [Name] said with a grateful smile.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, his tone casual but kind.

Akira, meanwhile, leaned over with a playful grin. “And if you ever need a history tutor, you know where to find me. My rates are reasonable—just bring snacks.”

[Name] laughed softly, feeling a flicker of relief.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

But no matter how much she tried to distract herself, one presence loomed in her periphery like a shadow she couldn’t shake: Kunigami.

Whenever she saw him in the hallways or during shared classes, her stomach twisted into knots. She avoided his gaze, ducked around corners, and even pretended to be engrossed in conversation just to escape him.

The few times he attempted to approach her, she found excuses to slip away. One afternoon, he called out to her as she left the library.

“[Name], wait—”

She didn’t look back. Her heart raced as she quickened her pace, murmuring an apology under her breath as she disappeared into the crowd.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

As for Ruka, his name now carried an uncomfortable weight. [Name] couldn’t forget what U20 had said about him—the accusations of cruelty and manipulation. Whenever she was around him, she felt the urge to confront him, to demand answers.

But the promise she’d made to herself—to never involve him in her own troubles—kept her silent. Instead, she maintained a polite distance, offering smiles that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Though she managed to keep up appearances, the cracks in her facade deepened. Each night, as she lay in bed, she replayed the events of that fateful evening. The memory of Kunigami’s fangs sinking into her flesh haunted her like a ghost.

The only thing keeping her grounded was a single, unwavering thought: she had to uncover the truth. What had happened to her that night? And why had Kunigami—someone she thought she could trust—become the source of her deepest fears?

For now, she pushed those questions aside, focusing on the immediate task at hand: surviving the days ahead. But deep down, she knew her search for answers was far from over.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The soft drone of the air conditioning hummed in the background as Mr. Blake paced across the front of the AP English classroom. His tailored suit, as always, was immaculate, and his voice carried an authoritative yet strangely soothing cadence as he explained the rubric for their upcoming assignment.

“The essay will require MLA formatting,” he began, gesturing to the slide displayed on the projector screen. “That means proper citations for every source, an introduction that clearly outlines your thesis, and at least three supporting arguments in the body paragraphs. Any questions?”

[Name] scribbled furiously in her notebook, her pen dancing across the page as she tried to capture every detail. She didn’t want to miss anything; she already felt like she’d been falling behind lately, and this essay seemed like it would be a hefty part of their grade.

“Remember,” Mr. Blake continued, pausing to adjust his glasses, “your arguments need to be substantiated. Unsupported opinions won’t earn you much credit. Show me your critical thinking. Convince me why your perspective matters. This isn’t just about what you think; it’s about how well you can argue it.”

[Name] underlined critical thinking in her notes, her brows furrowing.

“Of course, I expect nothing less from this class,” he added with a small smile, his gaze sweeping over the students. “You’re among the brightest. Make sure you prove that to me.”

Just as [Name] was finishing her note about the essay’s word count, the shrill ring of the announcement system echoed through the classroom, breaking the rhythm of Mr. Blake’s lecture.

“Good evening, students and staff,” came the voice of the announcer, slightly muffled but clear enough to make out.

“This is a reminder that after today’s club activities have concluded, all students and staff are required to report to the auditorium for this month’s assembly. Attendance is mandatory. Thank you.”

The announcement cut off with a faint click, leaving the room in a brief silence.

[Name] paused, her pen hovering over her notebook. She leaned slightly toward Ikki, who sat at the desk next to hers. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he worked diligently on something in his notebook, but he glanced up at her questioningly when he noticed her movement.

“What’s the assembly about?” she whispered, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the rest of the class.

Ikki blinked, his expression thoughtful for a moment before he replied. “Oh, it’s just something they do every month before exams. They cover updates, reminders about exam protocols, stuff like that.”

“Really? Every month?” [Name] tilted her head, genuinely curious.

“Yeah,” Ikki said with a small nod, pushing his hair out of his face. “It’s nothing too exciting, but it’s required. The principal usually speaks, and sometimes they bring in guest speakers.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, jotting a small reminder about the assembly in the margin of her notebook. “I see. Thanks, Niko.”

He gave her a faint smile before returning to his notes, his demeanor as calm and reserved as always.

At the front of the room, Mr. Blake cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “As I was saying,” he continued, “this essay will be due by the end of next week. No exceptions. I expect drafts to be submitted for peer review by Wednesday. That gives you plenty of time to refine your arguments before the final submission.”

[Name] sighed softly, already feeling the weight of the assignment settle on her shoulders. The assembly sounded like a break from the usual grind, but she couldn’t help wondering if it would bring anything unexpected. After all, nothing in her life had been predictable lately.

Still, she forced herself to focus on the present. For now, her only concern was taking notes and staying ahead. The mystery of the assembly could wait.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

After club activities, she quickly ran to the locker room to change into her uniform and head on down to the auditorium

The auditorium was abuzz with a lively din, a blend of voices and laughter echoing against the high ceilings. Rows upon rows of students shuffled into place, their uniforms crisp and polished as they settled into their seats for the mandatory assembly. [Name] had quickly changed after her last club activity and was scanning the crowded room for an open seat. Her eyes darted across the rows until she spotted one in the fourth row, smack in the middle.

‘Perfect.’

Navigating through the throng of students, she excused herself with polite murmurs until she finally made it to the empty spot. She plopped down with a sigh of relief and scanned her surroundings. To her left, a few unfamiliar faces chatted animatedly, but three seats down on her right, a flash of vibrant red caught her eye.

Hyoma.

He noticed her at the same moment and offered a small wave, his signature graceful smile lighting up his face. [Name] smiled back and waved in return. She always found his calm demeanor refreshing amidst the chaos of campus life.

Her brief moment of calm was interrupted as someone slid into the seat directly to her right. [Name] turned her head, expecting another friendly face, but instead, she froze.

The figure towering beside her radiated an intense aura, one that felt both intimidating and magnetic. His tall, lean frame seemed almost impossibly perfect, his sharp teal eyes slicing through the dim auditorium light. His black hair fell across his face in messy bangs, with one thick strand cutting diagonally across his right eye, giving him an even more brooding appearance.

[Name] blinked. It was Rin Itoshi.

She recognized him immediately—how could she not? He was Sae Itoshi’s younger brother, and the very same guy who sat directly in front of her in Mathematics. Despite sharing a classroom, she had never actually spoken to him. His aloof, almost standoffish demeanor didn’t exactly scream approachable.

Still, she decided to be polite.

“Hey,” she said with a small smile, her voice light as she tried to strike up a conversation.

Rin didn’t even glance at her. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on the stage, his expression as cold and unreadable as a marble statue.

Undeterred, [Name] tried again. “You’re Rin, right? We’re in Math together. I sit behind you.”

This time, he did look at her, but the glare he shot her was sharp enough to cut glass. His teal eyes narrowed as if her very presence was an inconvenience to him.

[Name] blinked, taken aback by his rudeness.

“...Okay,” she said slowly, frowning. “Rude much?”

Rin let out a soft scoff, finally turning his body slightly toward her. “What do you want?” His tone was clipped, his words practically dripping with disdain.

[Name] narrowed her eyes. “I was just trying to be friendly. You know, like a normal person. But clearly, you’re allergic to basic decency.”

He smirked, though it wasn’t a kind one. “I don’t have time for ‘friendly.’”

[Name]’s frown deepened. “Wow, you really are full of yourself, huh? Sae must be a saint if he puts up with you.”

At the mention of his older brother, Rin’s expression darkened noticeably. The coldness in his eyes turned glacial, and for a moment, [Name] almost regretted her comment.

Almost.

“You don’t know anything about me or Sae,” he said flatly, his voice low but laced with an edge that made her skin prickle.

[Name] crossed her arms, undeterred. “Maybe not, but I know enough to say that he’s probably a lot nicer than you.”

The two locked eyes in a silent standoff, the air between them heavy with unspoken tension. Around them, the noise of the auditorium seemed to fade into the background, replaced by an almost tangible electricity.

Finally, Rin broke the silence with a humorless chuckle, leaning back in his seat. “Think whatever you want. I don’t care.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” [Name] shot back, turning her attention firmly to the stage.

Her irritation bubbled just beneath the surface, but she forced herself to focus on the assembly that was about to begin. Rin, for all his arrogance, wasn’t worth the energy.

As the lights dimmed and the principal took the stage, [Name] stole one last glance at Rin out of the corner of her eye. His posture was relaxed, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his inner turmoil.

‘What’s his deal?’ she wondered, shaking her head.

She didn’t know if she’d ever understand Rin Itoshi, but one thing was clear: whatever issues he had, she wasn’t about to let them ruin her night.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The lights dimmed further, leaving the stage as the sole focal point in the vast auditorium. A hush fell over the crowd as the principal of the campus, Ego Jinpachi, took center stage. His presence was magnetic, his long, thin frame and unusually elongated neck giving him an almost otherworldly appearance. His sharp, black bob cut and perfectly straight bangs framed his face, which bore dark circles under his intense eyes, accentuated by the glint of his black-framed glasses.

Ego stood tall and unwavering, adjusting his bolo tie with a calculated motion. He exuded an aura of ambition so palpable it made the entire room feel smaller. His voice, deep and steady, boomed through the microphone.

"Good evening, students," he began, his tone both commanding and eerily calm. "Another month has passed, another cycle of mediocrity endured."

A few students shifted uncomfortably in their seats, but Ego paid no mind.

"As we approach the fall exams, let me remind you of one fundamental truth: in this world, those who dare to be average are destined to fade into obscurity. Greatness is not bestowed upon the meek, the humble, or the altruistic. Greatness is claimed by those who possess the will to take it, no matter the cost."

His eyes scanned the audience, and [Name] felt a shiver run down her spine as they briefly locked onto her row. She quickly averted her gaze, trying to focus elsewhere, but Ego’s voice demanded attention.

"Each of you is here not to serve some collective purpose," Ego continued, his voice growing sharper. "You are here to become the best. To outshine, to overpower, to dominate. Teamwork? Altruism? These are the crutches of the weak. And weakness,"—he paused, letting the word hang in the air—"has no place on this campus."

[Name] glanced around nervously, catching glimpses of her peers. Hyoma looked calm, almost amused, while others like Ikki seemed completely absorbed. To her right, Rin sat perfectly still, his teal eyes fixated on Ego as if the man’s words were gospel. [Name] resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his unwavering seriousness.

Her gaze wandered further, landing on the staff members seated behind Ego. Lavinho, the ever-relaxed professor, was leaning back in his chair, balancing it precariously on two legs as he stared at the ceiling with a bored expression. Chris Prince, who always looked like he’d stepped out of a fitness magazine, was glancing at his watch with a look that screamed, how long is this going to take?

The vice principal, Teieri, and Luiza Bogdanova, one of the more refined staff members, sat with their legs crossed, exuding an air of propriety. [Name]’s gaze lingered on them for a moment until she noticed Adam Blake, her AP English professor, sneaking not-so-subtle glances at Luiza’s chest.

[Name] grimaced and immediately looked away, trying to scrub the image from her mind. Gross.

Her attention shifted to the other side of the stage, where the Club Captains and the New Gen 11 sat. Sae Itoshi looked as detached as ever, his chin resting on his hand, his expression one of utter boredom. Lorenzo yawned, stretching out lazily as if he were at home on his couch. Michael looked equally disinterested, his arms crossed and his eyes half-closed.

And then there was Ruka.

[Name]’s heart skipped a beat as she spotted her cousin sitting stiffly among the other elite figures. His intense red eyes scanned the sea of students, searching for someone. She knew exactly who.

When his gaze finally landed on her, his expression hardened. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his jaw clenched. [Name] followed his line of sight and realized, with a sinking feeling, that he was staring not at her but at the person seated beside her—Rin.

Ruka’s hands tightened into fists on his lap, his knuckles whitening as his lips pressed into a thin line.

Oh no.

[Name] quickly looked away, pretending she hadn’t noticed his death glare. The last thing she needed was Ruka causing a scene—or worse, confronting Rin after the assembly. She made a mental note to talk to him later and try to diffuse whatever irrational anger he was brewing.

Meanwhile, Ego continued his speech, oblivious to the myriad tensions simmering in the audience.

"As we move into the final stretch of this semester, I expect nothing less than absolute dedication from each and every one of you. Complacency is a disease, and failure is not an option. Strive for excellence, not for others, but for yourself. Make no mistake—this is a competition, and the only prize worth winning is your place at the top."

He paused, his sharp gaze sweeping over the students once more.

"That is all. Dismissed."

The lights brightened slightly as the assembly came to an end. Students began filing out of their seats, the buzz of conversation picking up once again.

[Name] stood and gathered her things, keeping her head low as she prepared to slip away unnoticed. But as she glanced at Ruka one last time, she couldn’t help but feel a growing unease.

Something told her that this was far from over.

The atmosphere in the auditorium was bustling yet tense as students shuffled chairs back to their racks. The faint clatter of metal echoed around the room, accompanied by murmured conversations and the occasional scrape of a chair leg dragging across the floor. [Name] Sanzuku, trying to keep her head down and avoid unnecessary interactions, moved quickly to fold a nearby chair.

In her haste, she bumped into someone—hard.

“Watch it,” Rin Itoshi snapped, his teal eyes narrowing at her.

“Excuse you,” [Name] shot back, her irritation flaring instantly. “You could’ve moved out of the way, you know.”

Rin’s lips curved into a slight sneer. “Maybe you should watch where you’re going instead of being so careless.”

[Name]'s fists clenched around the chair she was folding. “You’re unbelievable. How can someone so arrogant even exist? Must be exhausting being you.”

“Better than being lukewarm like your ass,” Rin countered, his tone cold and cutting.

Before [Name] could retaliate, a sharp voice cut through the tension.

“[Name]!”

Both turned toward the source of the voice, and [Name]’s stomach sank when she saw Ruka Sanzuku striding toward her with his usual commanding presence. His crimson eyes were sharp with irritation, and his jaw was set in a way that told her he wasn’t here for a casual chat.

He reached her in a few long strides, grasping her hand firmly. “We’re leaving. Now.”

[Name] blinked in surprise before yanking her hand back. “Excuse me? I’m in the middle of something here. What’s your problem?”

Ruka’s eyes darkened as he leaned closer. “My problem is him.” He jerked his chin toward Rin, who was watching the scene unfold with an unamused expression. “You shouldn’t be anywhere near the Itoshis. They’re nothing but trouble.”

Rin’s eyes flickered with disdain at the comment. “Say that again, old man?”

Ruka ignored him, keeping his attention on [Name]. “Come on, let’s go. You don’t belong here with people like him.”

[Name]’s temper flared. “People like him? What are you even talking about? Rin’s a jerk, sure, but that doesn’t mean you get to swoop in and control who I talk to!”

Ruka’s voice lowered, his tone now almost pleading. “I’m trying to protect you. You don’t understand what they’re capable of.”

“Protect me? From what? Your overbearing attitude?” She tried to pull her hand free again, but Ruka’s grip tightened slightly, making her wince. “Ruka, let go of me!”

By now, the commotion had caught the attention of everyone in the auditorium. Students stopped folding chairs, turning to watch the drama unfold with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Hey,” Rin interjected, stepping closer. “You don’t get to manhandle her like that.”

Ruka glared at Rin, his body tensing. “This has nothing to do with you, Itoshi. Stay out of it.”

“Oh, it has everything to do with me,” Rin retorted, his voice dripping with venom. “Since you’re so concerned about her, why don’t you actually listen to what she wants instead of dragging her around like she’s your puppet?”

Ruka’s nostrils flared, but before he could respond, a third voice joined the fray.

“Well, isn’t this a touching display of familial dysfunction,” Sae Itoshi drawled, stepping out from the shadows behind Ruka. His tone was laced with mockery, and his face was infuriatingly smug.

Ruka stiffened but didn’t turn to face Sae.

Sae continued, his voice calm yet cutting. “I didn’t realize the great Ruka Sanzuku moonlighted as a babysitter. Must be exhausting keeping up with all her little tantrums.”

Ruka’s hands balled into fists, and [Name] saw his composure beginning to crack.

“That’s enough!” she snapped, her voice rising above the din. “Both of you—stop treating me like I’m some kind of possession!”

The auditorium fell silent. Even Sae raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden outburst.

[Name] turned her glare to Ruka, her patience completely gone. “You don’t get to dictate who I can or can’t talk to. And you definitely don’t get to drag me around like some damsel in distress.”

“[Name], listen to me—” Ruka started, but she cut him off.

“No, you listen!” Her voice shook with anger. “You’ve been smothering me ever since I got here, and I’m done with it. So do me a favor and fuck off!”

Gasps echoed around the room, followed by a few murmured “ohs.”

Ruka’s eyes widened in shock, and for the first time, he seemed genuinely at a loss for words. His hand loosened its grip on hers, but before he could fully process what had just happened, [Name] raised her hand and slapped him across the face.

The sound of the slap reverberated through the auditorium like a gunshot.

A stunned silence fell over the crowd as Ruka’s head snapped to the side. His hand slowly rose to touch his cheek, his expression a mixture of disbelief and hurt.

[Name]’s chest heaved with emotion as she glared at him, her anger still burning bright. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the auditorium, her footsteps echoing in the quiet.

As the doors slammed shut behind her, the tension in the room finally broke.

“Damn!” Lorenzo’s booming laugh filled the silence. “That was better than a soap opera!”

Michael Kaiser smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I almost feel bad for the guy. Almost.”

Meanwhile, Ruka remained frozen in place, his hand still pressed to his cheek as his crimson eyes flickered with a storm of emotions. Sae’s eyes widened slightly as he stepped past his brother, murmuring under his breath, “Guess you’re not as untouchable as you thought.”

Rin, on the other hand, watched the door [Name] had stormed through, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he turned and walked away, leaving Ruka standing amidst the sea of murmuring students, his pride and composure shattered.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The flower garden was quiet, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. The night’s chill kissed [Name]’s skin as she crouched behind the tall bushes, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Tears streamed down her face, catching the soft glow of the moonlight. She had undone her hair letting her hair flow freely as the wind wove through it, its cool touch contrasting with the heat of her flushed, tear-streaked cheeks.

Her heart felt unbearably heavy, weighed down by the tumult of emotions she could no longer keep contained. The shame of the auditorium, the suffocating grip of Ruka’s overprotection, and the unresolved pain from everything before—all of it bore down on her like a collapsing mountain. As her sobs softened, she looked up at the sky, her eyes reflecting the ethereal glow of the moon.

The moonlight, gentle and unobtrusive, illuminated her fragile form in a way that felt almost surreal. She was a porcelain doll on the brink of shattering, each silent tear carving a piece of her heart into fragments.

For a moment, she prayed for a quiet night. Prayed for something—anything—to take her away from this pain.

Then she heard them. Footsteps.

They were hurried but softened once they neared, careful yet insistent. The sound broke through her solitude, though she didn’t move. Whoever it was, they could find her if they wanted. She didn’t care.

The footsteps stopped, and a figure crouched down before her.

“[Name],” a voice said, breathless yet full of relief.

It was Isagi Yoichi. His dark blue eyes, illuminated faintly by the moon, searched her face with a mix of worry and exhaustion. Sweat dotted his forehead, his shirt slightly disheveled as if he had run all over campus to find her.

“[Name],” he repeated, his tone soft now, almost pleading. “Everyone’s been looking for you. Are you okay?”

She didn’t respond.

Yoichi knelt fully, his brows knitting together in concern as he moved closer. “Hey, say something.”

Still, she remained silent, her gaze distant as if she hadn’t even registered his presence.

Yoichi exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the crisp night air. He seemed to understand that pressing her wouldn’t help. Instead, he lowered himself onto the grass beside her, stretching his legs out as his eyes drifted upward to the night sky.

“The moon looks beautiful tonight,” he murmured, his voice steady yet contemplative.

[Name]’s silence persisted, but there was a flicker in her gaze. She blinked once, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but the words dissolved before they could form.

For a long moment, they sat like that—Yoichi looking at the moon, and [Name] drowning in her emotions. The stillness was palpable, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant chirping of crickets.

Then, gently, Yoichi reached out. His fingers brushed against her hair, gathering a soft strand and letting it glide between his fingertips. He didn’t say anything, didn’t push her, but the gesture was tender and grounding.

“You’re hurting,” he said after a while, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can feel it. But… I can’t help unless you let me.”

Something in his tone cracked the wall [Name] had built around herself. Her throat tightened, and her vision blurred again with fresh tears.

“Why… why me?” she finally croaked, her voice raw and trembling.

Yoichi turned to her fully, his fingers pausing mid-motion in her hair. “[Name]…”

She sniffled, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. “Why does it always have to be me, Isagi? Why am I the one who keeps getting pulled into all this?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her emotions spilling out like a dam breaking.

She began to ramble, her words tumbling out between shaky breaths. “First it was Raichi, then Kunigami, and now Ruka—and it’s not just them!! It’s everything. I don’t understand why I can’t just—just be left alone. Why does everyone have to make me feel like I’m being suffocated!? Like I don’t have a choice!?”

Her body shook as the words kept pouring out. “I try, Isagi! I try so hard to keep it together, but it’s too much! I feel like I’m drowning, and no one cares! No one cares how I feel—they just want me to fit into their stupid expectations!”

She broke then, burying her face in her hands as sobs wracked her body. Yoichi’s heart clenched at the sight.

Without hesitation, he moved closer, wrapping his arms around her trembling form. He held her tightly, his chin resting atop her head as he whispered softly. “It’s okay. Let it out. I’m here.”

[Name] cried harder, clutching the fabric of his shirt as though it were the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth. Yoichi stroked her hair gently, murmuring words of comfort.

“You’re not alone,” he said quietly, his voice firm despite its softness. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself. I’ll be here, [Name]. Always.”

She sniffled, her face still buried in his chest. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you care so much?” Her voice was muffled, but the vulnerability in it was unmistakable.

Yoichi pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt her chin up so she could meet his gaze. His hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the lingering tears.

“Because you matter to me,” he said simply. “You’ve always mattered to me.”

Her breath hitched at the sincerity in his words, and for a moment, the world seemed to still.

Then, without warning, Yoichi leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a gentle yet firm kiss.

[Name]’s eyes widened in shock, her body freezing momentarily before slowly relaxing into the kiss. It was tender, unhurried, and filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite name but felt deep in her chest.

When they finally broke apart, Yoichi rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin.

“You don’t have to face this alone,” he murmured. “I’ll be here, no matter what.”

Tears welled in her eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from sadness. She nodded faintly, her hands gripping his shirt as she whispered, “Thank you.”

Under the moonlight, amidst the flowers, a fragile connection was forged—a moment of solace in the chaos of their lives.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+✧｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧⁠｡

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝙲𝙾𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙿𝚄𝚂!! 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝟷𝟾 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛!!!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

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pparadiselost · 1 year ago

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Hi! In your nsfw headcanons for Luna, you said that you see him as the type to enjoy airplane sex, could you do a scenario with this for him, the reader could be his girlfriend or perhaps a flight attendant, or even better: reader is the pilot that Luna requests every time to fly his private jet (and whom he like very much) and they end up having ykyk (tho do whatever you like best, these are just some ideas). Thanks!

red eye.

leonardo luna x pilot fem reader the best way to pass time on an early flight is to get handsy. warning(s): nsfw, blowjob, plane sex, ambiguous relationship minors do not interact.

the glamorous part of any luxurious lifestyle had to have its downsides. a yin to its yang, like how darkness couldn’t exist without light. but as leonardo luna yawns and rubs the sleep out of his heavy eyelids, he decides that there’s really no need for him to be so dramatic about a flight in the weary hours of the day. this was simply one part of being a professional athlete; he was nothing more than a glorified doll for the higher ups who wanted to rake in money from his talent.

he didn’t care about any of that though. he was happy with what he had, with what more he was pursuing. his private jet was nice enough as is, a privilege very few could even dream of affording in their lifetimes. made just for his personal use, stocked with every kind of amenity possible, it was built for comfort so that he could do whatever he needed while being shuttled back and forth across the wide, wide globe.

it was mind-boggling to even think about how many people wanted to see him. leonardo stretches back in his airplane seat, glancing around the vast cabin area. an almost-finished bowl of fruit sits in the tray in front of him, and the flight has been smooth so far.

that much is all thanks to your expertise. you’re his trusted pilot and plaything, and leonardo has made it very clear that he has no use for useless people in his life. and you’ve made yourself very useful to him. he’s sure that with the flight now stabilized, you’re sure to leave the reins to your first officer and come pay him a long overdue visit. you’ve endeared yourself to him quite a bit.

a door clicks open in front of him, and leonardo knows to smile in greeting before he even knows that it’s you that’s going to be stepping out. he leans back a bit further in his seat, and he relaxes his posture to give off that confident, somewhat sleazy vibe has has going for him. “speak of the devil, angel. i was just thinking about you.”

“good morning, luna. i hope you’re enjoying your flight so far.” you always play coy, putting up a wall of professionalism between the two of you. he doesn’t know why you do it, especially when you both know it’s going to go down crumbling within minutes once he starts buttering you up.

“i always do, more so when you’re in the picture.” his bright green eyes gleam with a kind of delight reserved solely for you, enjoying the thick tension that hangs in the air. it’s moments before he pounces, and he’s simply biding his time for the inevitable ending. he doesn’t need to look behind him to know that the section of the private jet where all the attendants are is locked, and it’s you and him alone for the time being.

“i’m glad to hear that,” you plainly state, “our clients’ satisfaction is what matters most to us.”

there it is again, that faux wall of yours. you two always end up having sex whenever he flies with you, and yet you get so shy each and every time. leonardo likes that side of you, so desperate to cling to your dignity even though he wrecks you so thoroughly that he has no clue how you pick yourself back up to go back to your job.

you purse your lips, swallowing back the nervousness clearly welling up inside of you. his cock twitches inside his pants. lewd images of your pretty lips wrapping around his dick, tongue shyly swirling around his length and taking him bit by bit into your mouth floods his brain. blood shoots down south, and he lets out a deep sigh, adjusting the way he sits. he wants to see every inch of your body again, that cute body you hide so determinedly behind a pilot’s uniform that does nothing good for his overactive imagination.

he really, really does like you.

“why don’t we cut to the chase, yeah? we both know why we’re here, and i’m dying to get a little bit of destressing done before the big soccer guys run me down to the ground playing games,” he groans. you don’t bat an eye as he looks at you expectantly, and a loose smirk dangles from his lips. “work your magic.”

“...how would you like me today?” you murmur. there’s a clear dickprint that’s slowly emerging from his pants, the outline of his thick and heavy cock straining against the fabric. you drool a bit inwardly at the sight. it’s already flattering to work so closely with a famous soccer player and to be on good terms with him, but to know that you specifically have such an effect on him? sure, it might be nothing more than baseless lust, but being desired sexually is still desire at its core.

he pretends to think. “let’s put that mouth of yours to good use today. here. on your knees, angel. open up.”

he spreads his knees and pats his inner thigh. your heart flutters nervously inside your chest, but you step forward obediently and sink down to your knees. you stare up at him through your eyelashes, and leonardo is nothing short of smitten. he’s done well to have you in the palm of his hand like this, and he wants nothing more than to bury his cock down your throat.

leonardo breathes through his nose when he feels you caressing his legs. your fingers carefully tug at the waistline of his pants, and he moves with you so that you can pull them down to reveal his underwear. you rub your hands against the big bulge at his crotch, pressing your fingers against his cock so that you can mimic the motion of jerking him off through his boxers.

dull pleasure thrums at his lower stomach. “that’s it… keep going. i said i wanted your mouth, didn’t i?”

you have half a mind to talk back, but you complacent yank down his boxers. you gasp when his dick springs free. no matter how many times you’ve seen it, taken it in various holes, touched it and sucked it, his size still amazes you. he’s still only half-hard, and yet it stands so proud, its girth and length enough to make you immediately fantasize about how good it’ll feel inside of you. you gather up the saliva in your mouth and spit into your palm, and you gingerly grab the base of his cock to stroke him up and down.

“i’m getting to it,” you whisper. you lean in to press a gentle kiss to his length, and he lets out a small groan. you watch his face as you continue to kiss him, alternating between lazy strokes and stimulating him with your lips. his breath hitches when you press a kiss directly to his lips, and a bit of sticky pre-cum clings to your skin. you aren’t taking him into your mouth nor are you using any of your tongue. it’s oddly intimate and sweet, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly it makes his head spin.

“fuck, angel, you’re being bad… is this your way of teasing me? do you want me to punish you? you should know by now that i’m not a patient man,” he laughs darkly. he leers down at you, and the smile on his face is an unspoken warning. you squeeze your thighs together at the sight, your pussy throbbing at the thought of leonardo being mad at you. he’s a man of his word, and that’s a lesson you’ve learned firsthand.

you tentatively stick your tongue out, and while holding the base of his cock firmly, you lick a straight stripe up the underside of his cock. your tongue can feel every single inch, every little vein, every groove that you’ve gotten far too familiar with. you swirl your tongue expertly around his tip, making sure to lather your spit generously around the sensitive head before pressing your mouth fully against his cock and wrapping your lips around his cockhead.

a throaty noise escapes the blond, and he throws his head back. “hah- fuck- so i have to goad you into doing this? fucking whore… that’s it. take me in your mouth. show me how much you want to fuck my cock with that dirty mouth of yours.”

you sink your mouth down his inches slowly, enjoying the feeling of his cock invading you and hitting the back of your throat. there’s so much of him inside your cheeks, and you get to work swiftly by rubbing your drooling tongue over as much of his dick as you can. the bitter, salty taste of his pre-cum against your tongue is familiar, and you relax your throat the best you can to fit as much of his length inside you.

you hollow your cheeks, and you slowly bob your head. you want him to feel good, the taste and feeling of his big cock weighing inside of your mouth making your head spin. you suck and slurp at his length, and your tongue trails over his skin, memorizing every detail of his cock. it’s heady and heavy, and it weighs down on your mouth like a constant reminder of how much leonardo has you entirely at his mercy.

“hah…,” leonardo groans. his words are low and seductive against your ears, and your core throbs with need at the sound of his husky voice. “god, you’re sucking so hard right from the start. did you want it that badly? did you want to suck my dick that badly? yeah, that’s what i thought… got nothing but my cock on your mind, don’t you? it’s all your mouth is good for, isn’t it?”

heat flares up like a spark inside your body at his lewd words. if you were any younger or any newer on the job, you might have snarked back at him, but he isn’t wrong. just the thought of flying with him again has you squirming in your seat, eager for another few hours of sex in the airplane together, your body completely rewired thanks to the insane pleasure he gives you.

you moan shamelessly around his length. the vibrations send delightful waves of pleasure up the soccer player’s gut, and his fingers curl into his seat. you want to pleasure him, want to do such a good job that he’ll reward you by sticking his cock into your cunt next. just the thought of fucking yourself on his cock makes you feel weak in the knees, and you drool around his dick.

a strong hand lands on your scalp, and his knuckles bury themselves into your hair. he doesn’t force you down further onto his cock or anything, but he guides you. his gentle touch contrasted against his harsh words makes you see stars as you rhythmically bob your head up and down, lathering as much spit as you can using your tongue over his shaft.

leonardo thinks you look nothing short of fantastic: his beautiful, professional pilot on her knees, dedicatedly sucking him off, bedroom eyes that are practically begging for him to fuck you. leonardo knows he could have anyone in the world, using his status and money, and yet he’s hung up entirely over some hard working girl by his side. you’re loyal, dependable, and something about you drives him wild.

his cock twitches and jerks inside of your mouth. you do your best to mimic the feeling of your own cunt using your tongue and spit, dragging your lips tightly against his cock, flushing your cheeks out. god, he loves how your mouth feels. warm and wet, it’s everything he’s dreamed of. he doesn’t even need to lift a finger with you doing all the work for him, and all he needs to do is lose himself to the feeling.

“shit, that’s it… fuck, you’re going so hard- yeah, you love this, don’t you? being so greedy for my cock… ha- i better be the only guy you give this kind of treatment to.” he grits his teeth. he knows you wouldn’t entertain anyone else’s attention, not when he’s this eager to lavish his time like this onto you. leonardo isn’t particularly romantic and he should know better than to give his heart away to his pilot of all people, but he doesn’t know how else to describe this convenient happiness that’s landed in his lap. “can’t have my pretty pilot suck someone’s dick now, can i? you’re mine. my pretty cockslut.”

you hum in agreement. why bother chasing other men when you have him? you can feel more of his pre-cum leaking from his tip, and you obediently swirl your tongue around his sensitive head. you lick at his slit, eagerly swallowing down whatever salty pre-cum you can get. his balls tighten up against him, and you can feel his cock twitching dangerously against the back of your throat.

leonardo lets out a shaky exhale. the confident smile he has on is wavering slightly, his mask slipping under the pleasure. “fuck- yes- that’s it, angel. ha- gonna cum inside your mouth- are you going to be good and swallow it all for me? gonna swallow all of my cum?”

you nod frantically. you want it. you want to taste his cum. you want to make him happy, and you want him to reward you. you suck harder on his dick, milking him the best you can with your mouth. you don’t want to think too hard about how messy you must look, with your once-pristine work uniform ruffled and your carefully prepared hair undone by his hand. there’s drool escaping from the corners of your mouth, leaking down your chin and onto his cock, lubing your lips up nicely to make it easy for you to move up and down his length as rapidly as you can.

his palm is reassuring and yet threatening against the crown of your head, coaxing you to continue sloppily going down on him. his chest rises and falls, and he groans, “god- so fucking close…! shit- fuck, jesus fucking christ- yeah, take it, take it just like that… fucking god, you whore, take my cock like that-!”

you stiffen, and he bucks his hips, cramming his cock down far into your mouth. you momentarily gag around him, choking and spluttering around his length as it violates your windpipe. leonardo groans throatily, and he pumps himself in and out of your mouth a few times before he buries his cock back into you, cumming straight down your throat.

the taste of his cum floods your mouth. you choke and gag ungracefully on it, your throat constricting as you struggle to swallow as much of it as you can. it’s hot, it burns, and you can feel his cock pulsing inside your mouth as he spurts the last bits of his cum down into your windpipe. you clench your eyes shut, steeling yourself and forcing your mind to stay with you as you gulp down mouthful after mouthful of thick semen.

leonardo groans again, and even through the hazy fog of his orgasm, he can see you slowly pulling yourself off of his cock. you lick your lips, and your tongue is coated in a thin layer of his cum as you guzzle down whatever escaped your mouth. he sits there, inhaling and exhaling shakily as you tentatively clean him up, your tongue dragging across his softening cock to lap up any remaining bits of his cum.

you’re good. too good.

he grunts. he just came, and yet the sight of you sitting on your legs, staring up so longingly at him makes him go crazy. he wants to reach forward and rip your uniform right off of your body, to stick his cock straight into your tight cunt. he’s sure you want it just as badly as he does, given that you’re pressing your thighs together and looking back at him expectantly.

it doesn’t take long for him to realize he’s getting hard again, and the lovestruck look you’re giving him only fuels him with ideas. he gestures for you to get up, and he motions for you to come closer.

“did you swallow it all up?” he asks coldly. you stick your tongue out, showing him nonverbally that you did. he clicks his tongue, and another smirk overtakes his handsome features.

“i have a cumslut for a pilot. isn’t that a joy?” he quips breathlessly. “did it feel good, swallowing my cum? or would you have preferred that i stuffed it into your pussy instead? yeah, i bet you wanted the latter, didn’t you? i could see the way you were acting. your eyes were practically begging for me to fuck you.”

you nod. your uniform is too tight, too hot, sticks too closely to your skin. you need him to take care of the burning heat inside of your core, and you need to feel the stretch in your walls as he fucks his cock into you. you wouldn’t dream of doing this for anyone else, yet something about leonardo has you acting as if you’ve been bewitched.

he sits back smugly, his hard dick fully on display for you to claim. “what are you waiting for then, angel? go ahead. ride me.”

there’s an almost possessive gleam in his beautiful green eyes as he sizes you up, eyes undressing you right then and there. you glance behind him, to make sure the compartment for the flight attendants are locked, to make sure everything you’ll do with him stays between the two of you.

his voice cuts through your thoughts, almost as if to soothe you. it’s oddly romantic, despite the bastardized relationship you have with him, edging the line between coworker and lover, professional and romantic, the acceptable and the forbidden.

but that doesn’t matter to him, does it? it never has, not when he has you.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “not without you.”

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk smut #leonardo luna #x reader #fem reader #my writing

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