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velting · 2 months ago

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Blood Lock

CHAPTER 2

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

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·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of the dorm room, casting a warm glow over the modest space. [Name] stirred in her bed, the soft chirping of birds outside the window pulling her from a pleasant dream. She blinked her mismatched eyes open, the familiar sight of the ceiling coming into focus. The faint sound of movement caught her attention, and she turned her head to see her roommate, Hitomi Kurosawa, already awake and seated at her desk.

“Good morning, [Name],” Hitomi greeted softly, her voice calm but carrying its usual reserved tone. She had a cup of tea in hand, the light aroma of jasmine filling the room. Her dark violet eyes, framed by the dark circles beneath them, looked up from her notebook briefly as she acknowledged her friend.

“Morning, Hitomi,” [Name] replied with a sleepy smile, stretching her long limbs as she sat up. “You’re up early. Working on something?”

“Not really,” Hitomi said, glancing down at her notes. “Just reviewing some things for class. You should get ready; today might be a busy one.”

[Name] nodded, pushing herself out of bed and grabbing her towel and toiletries. “I’ll take a quick shower and be right back.”

The bathroom was warm, steam swirling around as [Name] turned on the water, letting it cascade over her tired body. It was a moment of peace, the soft rhythm of water against the tiles soothing her. As she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, she found her thoughts wandering. She couldn’t help but smile at how quickly she was adapting to this new life on campus. Despite Ruka’s overprotectiveness, she was determined to make the most of her time here.

When [Name] returned to the room, her damp hair wrapped in a towel, Hitomi was perched on her bed, her phone in hand. She looked up with a slight smile. “So, I was wondering—do you want to hang out today? My cousin Nagi and his friend Reo are free, and they wanted to grab coffee. Thought it’d be fun to introduce you.”

[Name] paused mid-step, her expression lighting up at the idea. “That sounds great! But…” She hesitated, glancing at her own phone. “You know how Ruka is. I’ll have to ask him first.”

Hitomi rolled her eyes playfully. “He’s not going to let you have any fun at this rate. Just call him and get it over with.”

[Name] laughed nervously and dialed her cousin’s number. It rang only once before Ruka picked up.

“What’s wrong?” Ruka’s voice came through, firm and alert.

“Nothing’s wrong, Ruka,” [Name] assured him quickly. “I just wanted to ask if I could go out today with Hitomi and her friends.”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a flat, “No.”

[Name] groaned. “Come on, Ruka! It’s just coffee, and it’s on campus. I’ll be with Hitomi the whole time. You know her.”

“I don’t trust anyone else, especially not Hitomi’s friends,” Ruka replied, his tone unyielding. “I can’t take any chances.”

“Please, Ruka?” [Name] pleaded, softening her voice. “I’ll text you where we’re going, and I promise I’ll check in. You can’t keep me cooped up forever. I need to meet people, too.”

Ruka sighed heavily on the other end. “Fine. But only because I trust you. Not them. If anything feels off, you call me immediately. Got it?”

“Got it! Thanks, Ruka!” [Name] grinned and hung up before he could change his mind. She turned to Hitomi with a triumphant smile. “We’re good to go.”

Hitomi smirked. “About time. Now, let’s get ready.”

Dressed in casual yet stylish outfits, the girls made their way to the café. Hitomi led the way, her stride confident as she dragged [Name] along by the wrist. To [Name]’s surprise, their destination was the same café she had visited with Ruka the previous day.

Inside, the atmosphere was as lively as before, filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the murmur of conversations. Hitomi scanned the room before spotting two familiar figures seated in a booth near the back.

“There they are,” she said, pulling [Name] along.

[Name]’s eyes widened as she approached. One of the boys, with messy white hair, was slouched in his seat, his attention glued to his phone. The other, a sharply dressed boy with vibrant purple hair, looked up and waved enthusiastically.

“Hey, Hitomi! You actually showed up,” Reo Mikage greeted with a wide smile, standing up briefly to give Hitomi a light hug.

“Of course I did. You’re lucky I even dragged [Name] here,” Hitomi replied, gesturing to her roommate.

Reo’s gaze shifted to [Name], and his smile widened. “Oh, so this is the famous roommate? Nice to meet you! I’m Reo Mikage.”

[Name] smiled politely. “Nice to meet you too. I’m [Name] Sanzuku.”

Reo gestured to the slouching figure beside him. “And this lazy guy over here is my best friend, Nagi Seishiro.”

“Hi,” Seishiro said without looking up, his voice monotone.

[Name] blinked, a little taken aback by his indifference, but she smiled regardless. “Nice to meet you, Nagi.”

The four of them settled into the booth, with Seishiro sitting next to [Name] and Reo beside Hitomi. Reo took the lead in the conversation, his energy infectious as he chatted with [Name] and Hitomi about everything from campus life to their favorite cafés. Seishiro, however, remained glued to his phone, only occasionally mumbling a response when prompted.

“So, [Name],” Reo asked, leaning forward with a curious glint in his eyes, “what’s your story? How do you like the campus so far?”

“It’s been great so far,” [Name] said with a smile. “Though it’s a lot bigger than I expected. Ruka’s been showing me around, but I’m still getting used to it.”

Reo chuckled. “Stick with us, and we’ll make sure you know all the good spots.”

As the conversation flowed, [Name] occasionally glanced at Seishiro, who sat beside her, his tall frame almost slouched into her personal space. She noticed him peek at her from the corner of his eye before quickly returning his attention to his game.

“You play games a lot?” she asked, attempting to include him in the conversation.

“Yeah,” Seishiro replied simply, finally turning his head slightly to look at her. “It’s easier than dealing with people.”

[Name] couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Fair enough. But you’re here with people now.”

“Yeah, because Reo made me,” Nagi said, though his tone wasn’t as sharp as it could have been. There was a faint hint of amusement in his expression.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The café buzzed with quiet activity, the low hum of conversations blending with the soft clinking of cups and plates. Warm light spilled over the polished wooden tables, illuminating the booth where [Name] sat with her new companions. The aroma of fresh coffee mingled with the faint sweetness of pastries, creating a soothing atmosphere.

[Name] took a small sip of her latte, her mismatched eyes crinkling in amusement as Reo animatedly explained one of his latest business ventures. Hitomi sat beside him, occasionally rolling her eyes at his enthusiasm but clearly enjoying his company. Across from them, Seishiro remained slouched in his seat, his phone still occupying his attention as his fingers lazily swiped across the screen.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, though [Name] couldn’t help but notice Seishiro’s detachment. She glanced at him briefly, curious about what game could hold his focus so intently. However, before she could say anything, Seishiro shifted in his seat, leaning slightly closer to her.

At first, [Name] thought nothing of it, assuming he was simply adjusting his posture. But when Seishiro’s shoulder brushed against hers, her body stiffened. Without a word, he leaned further, his head resting gently against her shoulder. The unexpected contact sent a jolt through her, her cheeks immediately flushing a deep pink.

“N-Nagi?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t respond right away, his pale lashes fluttering as he inhaled subtly. His expression, usually blank and indifferent, softened as his lips parted slightly. There was something about her scent—a mix of her natural sweetness and the faint floral notes of her shampoo—that stirred something wild within him. A primal instinct buried deep in his cold heart awakened, pounding against his chest like a caged beast.

“Why… are you leaning on her?” Hitomi’s voice broke through the moment, sharp with irritation. Her violet eyes narrowed as she glared at her cousin. “Seriously, Seishi!, stop being so immature.”

“Hmm?” Seishiro finally opened his eyes, glancing at Hitomi lazily before shifting his gaze to [Name]. He made no effort to move, instead tilting his head slightly so that a lock of her hair brushed against his cheek. “She smells nice.”

Hitomi’s eye twitched. “That’s not an excuse to invade her personal space! Get off her!”

Ignoring her, Seishiro reached up, his fingers curling around a strand of [Name]’s hair. He twirled it idly, his gaze distant yet focused. “Her hair feels soft. Smooth. Kinda nice to play with.”

[Name]’s blush deepened, her heart thudding wildly in her chest. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, and the way Nagi’s cool, disinterested tone contrasted with his actions left her flustered and unsure of how to respond.

“Hey, Nagi,” Reo cut in, his voice firm but not unkind. “Cut it out. You’re making her uncomfortable.”

Seishiro groaned softly, as if Reo’s words were an enormous inconvenience. With a slow, reluctant movement, he pulled away, leaning back into his side of the booth. His phone was back in his hand within seconds, his expression unreadable once more. “Fine, what a hassle” he muttered, though his eyes flicked back to [Name] occasionally, the faintest glimmer of something lingering in his gaze.

Hitomi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Sorry about that, [Name]. He’s always like this—lazy and weird.”

“Yeah, my bad,” Reo added, scratching the back of his head. “He doesn’t really understand boundaries sometimes.”

[Name] shook her head quickly, waving her hands in a dismissive gesture. “It’s okay, really! I’m not upset or anything. It just… caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Hitomi didn’t look convinced, but she let it drop, turning the conversation back to lighter topics. They ordered a few pastries to share, their plates quickly filling with buttery croissants and delicate slices of cake. The group chatted comfortably as they ate, [Name] learning more about her new friends.

“So, where are you from?” Reo asked, his tone genuinely curious as he sipped his coffee.

“Kyoto,” [Name] replied, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I grew up there with my family. It’s a beautiful place, but I wanted to explore somewhere new for college.”

“That’s cool,” Reo said with a nod. “Kyoto’s got some great architecture. I’ve been there a couple of times for family trips. What do you like to do in your free time?”

“Basketball, mostly,” she said, her smile brightening. “I’ve been playing since I was a kid. It’s kind of my passion.”

Reo grinned. “No way! I used to play basketball, too. Maybe we’ll have to hit the court sometime.”

“You’ll lose,” Seishiro mumbled from his side of the booth, not looking up from his phone.

Reo shot him a playful glare. “Says the guy who can’t even be bothered to get out of bed half the time.”

Hitomi snickered, and even [Name] couldn’t suppress a giggle. The lighthearted banter continued, filling the booth with laughter. Though Seishiro remained mostly silent, his presence felt heavier now, his occasional glances at [Name] carrying an intensity she couldn’t quite place.

As the afternoon wore on, the group eventually finished their drinks and desserts. They stood to leave, Hitomi stretching her arms above her head. [Name] couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of emotions as they walked out of the café. Despite Nagi’s aloof demeanor, there was something about his quiet attention that lingered in her mind.

For Seishiro, the pull toward [Name] only grew stronger with every stolen glance. The faint scent of her hair, the soft sound of her laughter—it all stirred something dangerous within him. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his fingers twitching as he resisted the urge to reach out again. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t normal. This was something primal, instinctual.

As the group parted ways outside the café, Seishiro’s cold gaze lingered on [Name]’s retreating figure. His heart, usually so still, thundered in his chest. She was more than intriguing—she was irresistible. And the more he tried to push the feeling away, the stronger it became.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The shopping district buzzed with life, its vibrant streets bathed in the warm glow of golden hour. Neon signs flickered above boutique windows, and cheerful chatter filled the air as shoppers moved from one store to another. [Name] and Hitomi strolled through the bustling streets, their arms loaded with bags filled with clothes and accessories. They laughed and teased each other, stopping occasionally to peer at glittering jewelry or try on quirky hats at small pop-up stalls.

“This one would look so cute on you!” [Name] giggled, holding up a pair of cat-ear headbands toward Hitomi.

Hitomi rolled her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. “You’re relentless, aren’t you? We’re here for clothes, not cosplay accessories.”

“But it’s cute!” [Name] protested, placing the headband on her own head and striking a playful pose. “See? I could totally pull it off.”

Hitomi chuckled, shaking her head. “Alright, fine. You win this round. Let’s head over to the next store before you drag me into more trouble.”

They wandered into another boutique, admiring the racks of floral skirts, pastel cardigans, and sparkling necklaces. After making a few purchases, Hitomi suddenly shifted uneasily.

“Hey, I need to make a quick stop,” she said, glancing toward a nearby sign for the restrooms. “Can you hold onto these for me?”

[Name] nodded, adjusting the straps of her bags as Hitomi handed hers over. “Sure! I’ll guard them with my life.”

“Don’t let anyone steal my stuff,” Hitomi warned, her tone half-serious as she walked away.

Now alone, [Name] waited patiently near a decorative lamppost, the faint hum of street performers playing nearby filling the air. She adjusted her grip on the bags, glancing at the small crowd gathered to watch a juggler perform with flaming batons. But her peaceful moment was short-lived. As she turned to check her phone, she accidentally collided with someone walking past her.

The force knocked both of them to the ground, her bags spilling onto the pavement. Startled, [Name] scrambled to gather the scattered contents, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, looking up to see the person she’d bumped into.

The boy she’d collided with rubbed the back of his head, sitting on the ground. He looked to be her age, maybe a little older, with short black hair and a striking tuft of red in the middle. His large, starry eyes blinked in surprise as he turned to her, a v-shaped smile spreading across his face. His tan skin seemed to glow under the warm sunlight, and his toned physique was hard to ignore even in casual clothes.

“Oh, no worries!” he said cheerfully, his voice light and warm. “That was my fault, too. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

[Name] smiled sheepishly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she continued picking up the spilled bags. “Still, I’m really sorry. I can be pretty clumsy sometimes.”

The boy chuckled, kneeling to help her. “Don’t sweat it. Happens to the best of us.”

As their hands brushed while reaching for the same bag, [Name] glanced up, their eyes meeting. She noticed the faint red tint spreading across his cheeks, his smile faltering slightly as his gaze lingered on her. Something about her mismatched eyes and the soft kindness in her expression made his heart race.

“Y-you’re really pretty,” he blurted out, then immediately froze, his face turning a deeper shade of red. “I-I mean—uh, sorry, that was out of nowhere. I just—”

[Name] blinked, then laughed softly, her own cheeks turning pink. “Thank you, I guess?” she said, unsure of how to respond to such an unexpected compliment.

The boy scratched the back of his neck, averting his gaze in embarrassment. “I’m Akira. Akira Endoji,” he said quickly, as if hoping to change the subject.

“[Name] Sanzuku,” she replied, extending her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Akira.”

He took her hand, his grip firm yet careful, and gave her a wide grin. “The pleasure’s mine, [Name].”

After they finished gathering the bags, Akira hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat. “Hey, um… I don’t mean to be weird or anything, but could I—uh—maybe get your number? You know, so I can pay you back for running into you or something.”

[Name] tilted her head, her smile widening. “You don’t owe me anything, but sure.” She handed him her phone, and he quickly entered his number, his hands slightly shaky.

“Thanks!” he said, his voice a little too loud in his excitement. Realizing this, he quickly toned it down. “I mean, uh, cool. Thanks.”

They parted ways after that, with Akira waving enthusiastically as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was out of sight, he pulled out his phone and texted his friends.

Akira: “GUYS. I JUST MET THE MOST AMAZING GIRL. HER NAME’S [Name]. I GOT HER NUMBER. SHE’S PERFECT.”

Meanwhile, [Name] stood near the lamppost, shaking her head with a small smile. She wasn’t entirely sure why he seemed so flustered, but his earnestness was endearing.

“Sorry for the wait!” Hitomi’s voice called out as she returned. “Did anything happen?”

“Oh, nothing much,” [Name] said, her tone light as she handed over Hitomi’s bags. “Just bumped into someone.”

“Did they give you a hard time?” Hitomi asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No, no! He was really sweet,” [Name] reassured her, though she decided to leave out the part about exchanging numbers.

Hitomi raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Alright, then. Let’s keep shopping before the stores close.”

With that, the two girls resumed their spree, laughter and chatter following them as they explored more stores. Unbeknownst to [Name], however, she had already left a lasting impression on Akira—and her scent, smile, and warm voice were now deeply etched into his mind.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The sun was beginning to set as [Name] and Hitomi made their way back to campus, the vibrant hues of pink and orange painting the sky in a serene display. Their shopping bags swayed with each step as they strolled up the stone-paved path toward the towering wrought-iron entrance gates.

As they approached, [Name] spotted a familiar figure leaning casually against the gate. Ruka stood with one hand tucked into his pocket and the other holding his phone, his sharp gaze focused on the screen. The faint glow of the device illuminated his face, highlighting his cool, nonchalant demeanor. He exuded an air of effortless confidence, but the way his eyes flicked up the moment he saw [Name] betrayed his relief.

“There you are,” Ruka called, straightening his posture and slipping his phone into his pocket. His tone was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge of worry beneath his words. “You’re late.”

[Name] rolled her eyes playfully. “We’re only late by, what, ten minutes? It’s not like I was kidnapped.”

Hitomi smirked, clearly enjoying Ruka’s overprotectiveness. “Relax, Ruka. She’s fine. No scratches, no bruises. I made sure she stayed out of trouble.”

Ruka gave her a flat look, his lips curling into a sarcastic smile. “Oh, thanks so much for your concern, Hitomi. I’ll be sure to call you the next time I need a babysitter.”

Hitomi didn’t miss a beat, crossing her arms as she squared up to him. “I’m serious, Ruka. You need to loosen the leash on her. [Name] isn’t a kid. She can handle herself.”

Ruka’s brow twitched, his usual calm veneer slipping as he stepped closer. “You think I’m just being paranoid!? Maybe you don’t know this campus as well as I do. There are!…uh… Guys around here who’d love to take advantage of someone like her!”

[Name] raised a brow at the odd emphasis he put on the word guys, but Hitomi wasn’t backing down. “And you think coddling her is going to solve that? What’s she supposed to do when you’re not around, Ruka? Hide under a rock?”

The two stared each other down, the tension between them thickening as their voices rose.

“You don’t get it,” Ruka said, his tone sharp. “This isn’t your business, Hitomi.”

Hitomi narrowed her eyes. “It is my business when you act like she can’t make her own decisions. Newsflash, she’s eighteen, not eight!”

“Enough!” [Name]’s voice rang out, cutting through their argument like a blade. Both Ruka and Hitomi froze, turning to her with startled expressions. She let out an exasperated sigh, her hands clutching her shopping bags tightly.

“This is ridiculous,” [Name] said, her voice firm. “Ruka, I appreciate that you’re worried about me, but you can’t be by my side all the time. You’re part of New Gen 11. You have your own life, your own responsibilities. And as much as I love you for looking out for me, I’m not a damsel in distress!!”

Ruka’s expression softened, but she wasn’t done yet. “And Hitomi, I know you mean well, but pushing Ruka like that doesn’t help either. He’s just trying to protect me. I get that. But I need you both to trust me. I can handle myself.”

The air grew still for a moment as her words settled in. Ruka sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright,” he muttered reluctantly. “You’re right. I’ve been hovering too much. Guess I can’t keep treating you like a kid forever.”

Hitomi glanced at [Name], then back at Ruka. Her stance relaxed, and she offered a small, sheepish smile. “Maybe I was a bit harsh. Sorry for jumping down your throat.”

Ruka gave a wry smile, holding out a hand. “Apology accepted. Guess I owe you one too. I might’ve overreacted.”

Hitomi smirked and took his hand, shaking it firmly. “You definitely overreacted.”

[Name] let out a relieved laugh, the tension finally melting away. “See? That wasn’t so hard. You two should argue less and bond more. You might actually get along.”

Ruka chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at his cousin. “I’ll try, but no promises.”

Hitomi grinned. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As the three of them walked through the gates and into the campus, the night air carried a newfound sense of harmony. [Name] couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could all find a way to coexist peacefully. For now, though, she was content knowing they were finally on the same page—or at least close enough.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The canteen was alive with the chatter of students enjoying their meals, laughter occasionally punctuating the din. [Name], Ruka, and Hitomi sat at a cozy corner table, their trays laden with food. The inviting aroma of freshly baked bread and the sweet notes of coffee mingled in the air. The room’s large windows allowed the midday sunlight to stream in, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden tables and gleaming tiled floors.

[Name] leaned forward eagerly, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I can’t wait for my psychology class! It was my favorite subject back in high school. There’s something so fascinating about understanding how people think and behave. I already know a lot about basic concepts like cognitive development and behavioral theories, so I’m excited to dive deeper!”

Hitomi smiled, twirling a strand of her short hair. “Wow, [Name], that’s impressive! I don’t think I’d have the patience for that. It seems like so much to remember.”

[Name] chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s not as hard as it sounds! Once you start seeing patterns in behavior, it becomes like solving a puzzle. Plus, it’s really rewarding when you figure someone out.”

Ruka, who had been quietly eating his meal, frowned slightly. He set his fork down with a sigh, his sharp red eyes focused on his cousin. “Your psychology professor is Mr. Luna, isn’t it?”

[Name] blinked, her head tilting slightly. “Yeah, that’s his name. Do you know him?”

Ruka’s jaw tightened, and his gaze shifted to the table. “I know him. Leonardo Luna isn’t just any professor. He’s sharp and demanding, but he’s also got this… way of getting under your skin. He doesn’t tolerate mistakes, and he enjoys challenging his students in ways that aren’t always pleasant.”

Hitomi raised an eyebrow, her tone skeptical. “Sounds like you’ve had some experience with him.”

Ruka’s lips pressed into a thin line, his voice low. “Let’s just say we didn’t part on the best of terms. I’m not thrilled about him being your professor.”

[Name], sensing his unease, reached across the table and lightly touched his arm. “Don’t worry, Ruka. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m good at staying focused, and I can handle a tough teacher.”

Ruka’s expression softened slightly, but the tension in his posture remained. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. He’s not someone you want to underestimate.”

Before the conversation could turn heavier, Hitomi pulled out her schedule with a grin. “Hey, look at this! We’re in Business class together, [Name]. Finally, someone I know who won’t be glued to their phone or sleeping through lectures.”

[Name]’s eyes lit up. “That’s awesome! At least I’ll have someone to talk to in that class.”

Ruka leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a resigned sigh. “Lucky you two. I don’t share a single class with her. Just lunch, that's all.”

Hitomi smirked. “You sound like a parent dropping their kid off at school for the first time.”

Ruka shot her a glare, but [Name] laughed, patting his arm again. “It’s okay, Ruka. You don’t have to watch over me all the time. I’ll be fine.”

He gave her a small, reluctant smile, though his eyes betrayed lingering worry.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

After finishing most of her meal, [Name] excused herself to go to the restroom. The girls’ bathroom was pristine and elegant, with gleaming tiles and ornate mirrors framed in silver. She washed her hands, the cool water refreshing against her skin, and glanced at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were still slightly flushed from all the excitement.

The bathrooms were as pristine as the rest of the campus. Marble countertops gleamed under bright lighting, and the faint scent of lavender hung in the air. After washing her hands, [Name] took a moment to adjust her glasses in the mirror, her reflection staring back with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation for the day ahead.

“Alright,” she said to herself, smoothing the ribbons on her twin-tails. “Back to the table.”

As she walked back, her thoughts drifted to the conversation about Mr. Luna. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice someone approaching from the other direction until they collided. Her bag slipped from her shoulder as she stumbled back.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” [Name] exclaimed, bowing slightly in apology.

“It’s fine, really,” came a calm, lilting voice.

[Name] looked up, her eyes meeting a striking pair of magenta ones. The young man before her had pale skin and light brown hair that faded to magenta at the edges. His ever-present smile, warm and disarming, put her at ease despite the initial shock of their encounter.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his tone polite and measured.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m really sorry,” she said again, blushing slightly.

The man chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No harm done. I’m Alexis Ness, by the way.”

[Name] smiled, her cheeks still warm. “I’m [Name]. It’s nice to meet you.”

Alexis’s magenta gaze lingered on her for a moment, his smile never faltering. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

[Name] nodded. “Yeah, I’m starting tomorrow. It’s been a little overwhelming, but I’m managing.”

“That’s good to hear,” Alexis said, stepping closer. “Say, why don’t you join me? I know a place that’s a bit more… exclusive than the canteen.”

[Name] hesitated, her instincts warning her to decline. “Um, I should probably get back to my friends…”

But Alexis’s smile didn’t waver. Instead, he gently took her hand, his grip firm but not forceful. “Come on,” he said softly, his tone persuasive. “It’ll be worth it.”

“Wait, I—” [Name] started, but before she could protest further, Alexis was already leading her down the hallway.

They stopped in front of a pair of enormous black double doors adorned with crimson carvings. The air here felt colder, and [Name] couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling creeping up her spine. Alexis pushed the doors open with a dramatic flourish, revealing a room that looked like it belonged in a gothic castle.

The walls were painted deep shades of black and red, adorned with intricate gothic patterns. Black crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting an eerie glow over the room. Plush velvet furniture in crimson and ebony lined the space, and the faint scent of roses and aged wood filled the air. It was opulent and intimidating, a stark contrast to the lively campus outside.

“What is this place?” [Name] asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alexis turned to her, his magenta eyes glinting. “Welcome to the New Gen 11’s club room. This is where the elite gather, and you, [Name], are our special guest.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Back in the canteen, Ruka tapped his fingers against the table, his sharp red eyes darting toward the door every few seconds. Hitomi raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re acting like a helicopter parent again.”

“She’s been gone too long,” Ruka muttered, standing abruptly.

Hitomi waved a hand dismissively. “Relax. She probably got lost or stopped to chat with someone.”

Ruka’s frown deepened. “No, something’s not right.”

He left the table and hurried toward the girls bathroom doors, but his heart sank when she didn’t respond back from his reply, indicating that the bathroom was empty. His voice was tight with worry as he returned to Hitomi. “She’s not there.”

Hitomi’s teasing demeanor vanished. “What do you mean? Maybe she went back to the dorms?”

“No,” Ruka said, his voice rising. “She wouldn’t leave without telling me.”

Without another word, he turned and sprinted out of the canteen, his heart pounding as he searched the campus. A growing sense of dread filled him as he realized his cousin might be in trouble.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] sat in an opulent velvet chair, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns embroidered into its armrests. The gothic grandeur of the New Gen 11’s club room surrounded her, its eerie elegance both mesmerizing and unsettling. Alexis stood a few feet away, his magenta eyes glinting as he handed her a delicate porcelain cup filled with rosemary tea.

“Thank you,” [Name] said softly, her hands cradling the warm cup.

Alexis’s ever-present smile widened slightly, his tone smooth and reassuring. “It’s my pleasure. Consider it a welcoming gesture.”

She took a small sip, the fragrant tea calming her nerves somewhat. The silence that followed wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, but [Name] couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being studied. Alexis leaned casually against the back of a nearby chair, his gaze fixed on her, though he didn’t speak.

The heavy creak of the double doors opening broke the quiet. [Name] turned toward the sound, and her breath caught in her throat as a tall figure strode into the room.

There he was: Michael Kaiser in the flesh.

The man who entered had an undeniable presence, the kind that drew attention effortlessly. His blue eyes sparkled like sapphires, framed by red eyeliner that added a touch of drama to his gaze. His blonde hair fell into a striking mullet, accented by streaks of vivid blue that matched the two rat-tails cascading from the back of his head. The New Gen 11 uniform he wore was tailored perfectly to his form, the dark fabric contrasting with his pale skin and emphasizing the blue rose tattoos that crept up his neck, extending in intricate thorny vines down his left arm. At the crown of the tattoo on his hand was a keyhole, as if it hinted at secrets only he could unlock.

[Name] started, her heart racing as she tried to process his otherworldly beauty. She’d never seen anyone like him before—he seemed like he had stepped straight out of a painting.

Michael’s lips curled into a smile, a mix of charm and smugness. “Ah, I see Alexis has been entertaining our new guest,” he said, his voice rich with a German accent that only added to his allure.

[Name]’s cheeks flushed as he approached, every step deliberate and filled with confidence. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he continued, placing a hand over his chest in a theatrical gesture. “I am Michael Kaiser, the brightest star of this world, and the Emperor of the gods”

[Name] blinked, unsure of how to respond. “Uh, I-I’m [Name] Sanzuku,” she stammered, feeling her face grow warmer under his intense gaze.

Michael’s smile didn’t waver as he took her hand lightly on his own and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers. “A pleasure, Miss Sanzuku.”

Behind her, Alexis moved to pour another cup of tea, his movements quiet and precise. “Would you like a cup, Kaiser?” he asked, his voice polite but lacking warmth.

“Of course,” Michael replied smoothly, settling into a chair across from [Name]. His piercing blue eyes remained locked on her as Alexis handed him the steaming tea.

“So,” Michael began, swirling the cup delicately in his hand, “how are you finding your second day here? Adjusting well, I hope?”

[Name] felt her words catch in her throat. She’d never been this flustered around someone before, but Michael’s presence was overwhelming in the best—and worst—ways. “It’s… been good so far,” she managed, her voice soft. “A little overwhelming, but everyone’s been kind.”

Michael tilted his head, his expression amused. “Kindness is overrated,” he said, his tone teasing. “But I’m glad to hear you’re not finding it too daunting. After all, college is meant to challenge you in ways you’d never expect.”

[Name] nodded, her fingers tightening slightly around her cup. “I guess… it’s all part of growing, right?”

“Indeed,” Michael said, his lips curling into a smirk. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing just enough to make her squirm in her seat. “But I imagine someone like you handles challenges with ease. You seem… different from most.”

Her blush deepened. She wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or something else entirely, but the way he spoke made her heart flutter. “Th-thank you,” she said quickly, glancing away in an attempt to compose herself.

Michael took a slow sip of his tea, savoring the moment. Outwardly, he maintained his poised demeanor, but deep down, he was struggling. Her blush, her soft voice, the innocence radiating from her—it was intoxicating. The scent of her blood, faint but undeniable, sent a primal hunger surging through him. He clenched his jaw subtly, forcing himself to remain in control.

So sweet. So fragile. So… delicious.

He exhaled quietly, setting the teacup down with a steady hand. Not now. Not here. Michael was no fool; giving in to his desires would ruin the game, and Michael Kaiser always played to win.

Clearing his throat, he shifted the conversation. “Tell me, [Name], what’s your major? Surely someone as intriguing as you has chosen something equally fascinating.”

[Name] hesitated, her voice shy but steady. “I’m studying psychology. It’s something I’ve always been interested in.”

“Psychology?” Michael repeated, leaning back in his chair. His smile widened, and though it remained charming, there was a glint of something darker in his eyes. “How fitting. Understanding the mind is a valuable skill… though, some minds are harder to unravel than others.”

Alexis, who had been observing silently, finally spoke up. “Kaiser, don’t overwhelm her on her first day. She’s already adjusting to so much.”

Michael waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense, Alexis. I’m simply getting to know our guests. Isn’t that what a good host does?”

[Name] chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond. She could feel the tension between the two men, though it wasn’t entirely clear what it stemmed from.

Michael’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he appeared genuinely interested. “You’re fascinating, [Name],” he said, his voice lower now. “I can already tell you’re going to bring something special to this place.”

[Name]’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure if it was the compliment or the way he said it, but something about his words made her feel seen—yet also vulnerable. She offered a small, shy smile. “Thank you. That’s… very kind of you to say.”

Michael’s smirk returned, but the way his blue eyes lingered on her made her wonder if she’d stepped into something far more complicated than she realized. The pleasant atmosphere in the New Gen 11 room shifted abruptly as the heavy doors slammed open, their echo reverberating through the gothic chamber like thunder. [Name] flinched at the sound, her teacup trembling slightly in her hands.

All eyes turned toward the entrance where Ruka Sanzuku stood, his tall frame rigid with fury. His crimson eyes burned like embers as they locked onto Michael, who sat leisurely in his chair, exuding unbothered confidence.

“[Name],” Ruka’s voice was low and sharp, though it quickly rose in intensity. “What are you doing here with him?!”

Before [Name] could respond, Ruka’s gaze darted to Michael. The vampire’s smirk grew wider, as if he had been expecting this exact reaction.

“You.” Ruka’s tone was venomous as he began to march forward, his boots clicking sharply against the stone floor. “Back. Off.”

Michael, entirely unfazed, leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, sipping his tea with maddening nonchalance. “Ah, Ruka, what an enthusiastic entrance. You always know how to make a scene.”

The smirk on Michael’s face only deepened, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Relax, I was just having a friendly chat with [Name]. Is that a crime?”

Ruka didn’t slow his pace, his shoulders taut with anger. “Don’t you dare talk about her like you know her,” he growled, his fists clenching at his sides. “Stay the hell away from my cousin!”

Before the distance could close further, [Name] shot up from her seat, quickly stepping between the two. Her wide, worried eyes met Ruka’s fiery gaze as she held up her hands to stop him.

“Ruka, please!” she pleaded, her voice trembling slightly. “Don’t do this. Calm down!”

Ruka’s jaw tightened as his eyes darted to [Name]. “Do you even know who this bastard is?” he barked, pointing accusingly at Michael. “He’s dangerous, [Name]!”

Behind her, Michael chuckled softly, the sound low and mocking. “Dangerous? You wound me, Ruka,” he said, feigning offense. “I’ve been nothing but a gentleman.”

Beside Michael, Alexis Ness stood with a taunting smirk on his face, his magenta eyes flickering with amusement as he watched the scene unfold. “Seems like someone’s a little overprotective,” Alexis teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Jealous, perhaps?”

Ruka snapped his glare to Alexis, his rage flaring even further. “You shut your damn mouth,” he snarled, his voice echoing in the chamber.

“Ruka, stop!” [Name]’s voice rose sharply, her hands gripping his arm to hold him back. She looked up at him, her face filled with desperation. “This isn’t the way. You’re only making things worse!”

Ruka’s chest heaved as he tried to reign in his anger, but the mocking smirk on Michael’s face only fueled the fire. “Listen to her, Ruka,” Michael said smoothly, his tone laced with amusement. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

[Name] turned back to Michael, her voice firm but pleading. “Kaiser, please don’t make this worse. Just… stop.”

Michael raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk never faltering. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave. For now.”

Ruka’s hands balled into fists, his knuckles white as he glared at Mixhael. “This isn’t over,” he hissed, his voice low and threatening. Then, without another word, he grabbed [Name]’s hand.

“Ruka, wait—!” [Name]’s protest was cut short as he began pulling her toward the door.

“Let go of me!” she cried, struggling against his grip. Her free hand tugged at his arm, but Ruka was relentless, his grip firm as he marched out of the room with her in tow.

Behind them, Michael’s soft laughter echoed, further stoking the tension in the air. “Do come again, [Name],” he called out, his voice smooth and taunting. “The conversation was delightful.”

Alexis chuckled, adding to the mockery. “Indeed. What an entertaining visit.”

Ruka’s shoulders stiffened, his pace quickening as he led [Name] away.

The clubroom doors slammed shut behind them, leaving the tense silence to settle once more.

In the corridor outside, [Name]’s voice broke the silence. “Ruka, stop! You’re hurting me!”

He finally slowed his pace, his grip loosening as he turned to face her. His expression was still stormy, but there was a flicker of guilt in his crimson eyes. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, letting her hand go.

[Name] rubbed her wrist, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. “What was that about? Why did you have to act like that in front of them?”

“They’re dangerous, [Name],” Ruka said firmly, his tone bordering on desperation. “You don’t understand what they’re capable of.”

She frowned, crossing her arms. “Maybe I don’t, but that doesn’t give you the right to act like you can control who I talk to.”

Ruka ran a hand through his dark hair, his frustration evident. “I’m just trying to protect you.”

[Name] softened slightly at his words but remained firm. “I know you care, but yelling and dragging me out like that isn’t the way to do it.”

Ruka exhaled heavily, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I just… I can’t stand the thought of them getting close to you.”

She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her voice softer now. “I can take care of myself, Ruka. You have to trust me.”

He looked at her, his crimson eyes filled with a mixture of worry and regret. After a long moment, he nodded reluctantly. “Fine. But promise me you’ll be careful.”

[Name] offered him a small smile. “I promise.”

Though the tension between them had eased slightly, the memory of Michael’s taunting smirk lingered in Ruka’s mind. One thing was certain: he wouldn’t let his guard down. Not for a second.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The club room, now quiet after Ruka’s dramatic exit with [Name], felt heavy with lingering tension. Michael lounged in his chair, one hand casually resting on the armrest while the other swirled the remnants of his tea in his cup. The smirk that had never left his face broadened slightly as his mind wandered.

The scene replayed in his thoughts: Ruka's fury, [Name]'s pleas, her soft voice trembling as she tried to calm the storm. He felt a thrill at how easily he could provoke such chaos. It was exhilarating, knowing he had gotten under Ruka’s skin with nothing more than a few words and a look.

“Interesting,” Michael murmured to himself, the German accent in his voice smooth and laced with amusement.

His blue eyes narrowed slightly, his mind honing in on [Name]. She was unlike anyone he had encountered—a curious mix of innocence and resilience. The way she had pleaded, her cheeks flushed, her scent lingering in the air like the sweetest nectar… it was intoxicating.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the chair, letting the fantasy unfold in his mind. He imagined [Name] standing before him, her wide, eyes looking up at him with a mix of fear and intrigue. Her skin would be warm under his touch, and her pulse… oh, how he could already feel it thrumming beneath his lips.

The thought of sinking his fangs into her neck, tasting her, consuming her, sent a shiver down his spine. ‘Would she scream? Would she fight? Or would she surrender to me, trembling in my arms?’

Michael chuckled lowly, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. The mere idea of it was almost unbearable. “She’s going to be delicious,” he muttered, his voice thick with anticipation.

“Thinking about her, are we?”

The voice beside him snapped him out of his thoughts. Alexis Ness stood nearby, his magenta eyes gleaming with their own brand of obsession. He had been quiet up until now, observing Michael’s every move and word. But even he couldn’t deny it any longer—[Name] was captivating.

Michael turned his head slightly, one eyebrow raised. “And what if I am?” he asked, his tone teasing but guarded.

Alexis smirked, leaning against the table. “You’re not the only one, you know.” His voice was soft but carried an edge, as if challenging Michael’s unspoken claim. “She’s… enchanting, isn’t she? The way she looks, the way she speaks.” His gaze grew distant for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. “I bet her blood tastes as sweet as she looks.”

Michael’s smirk widened, but there was a flicker of irritation in his eyes. “Careful, Alexis. Are you forgetting your place?”

Alexis shrugged, unbothered by the warning. “I’m just saying what we’re both thinking. She’s special. And it’s only natural to want what’s special, isn’t it?”

The room seemed to grow heavier with the weight of their shared obsession. Michael sat up slightly, placing his teacup down with a deliberate clink. “She’s not like the others,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “There’s something… different about her.”

Alexis nodded, his smirk fading into something more serious. “She’s pure. Untouched. That’s what makes her irresistible.”

Michael leaned back again, crossing his arms as a dark chuckle escaped him. “And that’s what makes this so… entertaining. Did you see the way Ruka reacted? Just being near her sends him into a frenzy. Imagine what he’d do if I…” He trailed off, his blue eyes glittering with malice.

Alexis laughed softly, though there was a darker undertone to it. “You’re playing with fire, Kaiser. Not that I’m complaining. It’ll be fun to watch.”

“Oh, it’ll be more than fun,” Michael said, his voice dripping with confidence. “It’ll be art.”

Unbeknownst to Alexis, Michael’s thoughts were already spiraling further. He could see it so clearly: [Name] in his arms, her soft cries as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear before finally indulging in the ultimate pleasure. The taste of her blood, the way her body would go limp against him—it was a fantasy he intended to make reality.

But as Michael’s mind raced, he failed to notice the way Alexis’s gaze lingered on him.

‘You think you’re the only one who can have her,’ Alexis thought to himself, his smirk returning faintly. But she’ll be mine, too. ‘You just wait, Kaiser. I’ll prove that I’m the one who deserves her.’

The room, now quiet save for the crackle of the fireplace, seemed to hum with the dark energy of their shared desires. [Name] had unwittingly become the object of their twisted fantasies, their obsession threatening to spiral out of control.

As Michael and Alexis sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, one thing became clear: neither would back down. And in the end, [Name] would belong to one of them—or perhaps, to both.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The dorm room was a cozy haven bathed in the soft glow of a bedside lamp. The faint hum of the heater filled the air, warding off the chill of the night. On one side of the room, [Name] Sanzuku sat cross-legged on her bed, brushing her hair with slow, rhythmic strokes. Her glasses rested neatly folded on her nightstand, a sign she was winding down for the evening. Her eyes seemed distant, lost in her thoughts as she hummed softly to herself.

On the other side of the room, Hitomi stood in front of her mirror, meticulously applying a cooling face mask. The white cream contrasted starkly against her warm skin, and she squinted slightly as she smoothed it out, making sure there wasn’t a single uneven patch. “You know, [Name], you’re like one of those classic heroines from a romance novel,” she teased, glancing over her shoulder. “The way you brush your hair like that, it’s almost poetic.”

[Name] chuckled softly, setting her brush down. “You think so? I’m just trying to keep it from getting tangled.” She tucked a loose strand behind her ear and reached for her phone, which buzzed with a notification.

Curious, she unlocked it and smiled when she saw the name: Akira. Her thumbs moved quickly as she read his message.

Akira: Hey hey! How’s dorm life treating you, superstar? You adjusting okay?

[Name] grinned at the nickname and began typing her response.

[Name]: It’s going pretty well! Hitomi’s fun to have around, and the campus is beautiful. What about you? Still making everyone laugh over there?

Hitomi noticed the soft smile on her roommate’s face and smirked knowingly. “Who’s that? Someone special?”

[Name]’s cheeks turned pink, and she waved her hand dismissively. “No, no! It’s just Akira. He’s a friend.”

Hitomi arched an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. A ‘friend.’ Sure.” She turned back to the mirror, but her teasing grin lingered.

Another buzz came through, and [Name] eagerly opened it.

Akira: Obviously! I’m the life of the party, remember? But, let’s be real, the day isn’t complete until I hear from you. How’s my favorite twin-tailed basketball queen?

[Name] giggled, her blush deepening. She typed back quickly.

[Name]: Flattery will get you everywhere, Akira. I’m doing great, just unwinding. You?

Akira: Me? Just counting down the days until we can hang out again. College is cool and all, but it’s missing something—you.

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. Akira had always been energetic and carefree, his messages filled with a contagious warmth that made her smile. She loved how he never failed to brighten her day, even from miles away.

[Name]: You’re such a charmer. But you know what? I miss hanging out with you too. Everything feels so… big here. It’s nice, but it’s also overwhelming sometimes.

Akira’s response came almost immediately.

Akira: Hey, don’t let it get to you. You’re amazing, [Name]. Everyone who meets you knows it. They’re probably just too intimidated by how cool you are. Give it time, and you’ll have everyone wrapped around your finger, just like me.

[Name] laughed softly, feeling a little more at ease.

Hitomi, now lying on her bed with her face mask drying, peeked over. “You’ve been smiling at your phone for the past ten minutes. Spill. What’s he saying?”

[Name] hesitated before showing her the screen. “It’s just Akira being Akira. He’s so… I don’t know. He’s always so positive and fun to talk to.”

Hitomi scanned the messages and raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sounds like someone’s got a little crush.”

[Name] shook her head vehemently, though her cheeks betrayed her. “It’s not like that! He’s just… easy to talk to, you know?”

Hitomi smirked. “Sure, if you say so. But let me just say, guys like that don’t come around every day. Don’t let this one slip away.”

[Name] rolled her eyes but couldn’t wipe the smile from her face.

Another buzz pulled her attention back to her phone.

Akira: Alright, superstar, get some rest. Dream big, okay? And don’t forget—if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m just a text away.

[Name]: Thanks, Akira. You’re the best. Goodnight!

Setting her phone down, [Name] leaned back against her pillows, her heart feeling lighter than it had all day. Hitomi’s soft teasing faded into the background as she replayed Akira’s words in her mind.

As the night deepened and the dorm room grew quieter, [Name] found herself smiling as she drifted off to sleep, the thought of Akira’s bright energy and kind words lingering in her dreams.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The crisp autumn air bit at Ruka’s skin as he stood under the dim glow of a lamppost. His black jacket was zipped up to his chin, warding off the chill of the late night. The world around him was silent, save for the occasional rustle of fallen leaves skittering across the pavement. His breath misted in the cold, visible in the stillness of the dark. He glanced at his watch, impatience creeping into his features.

“It’s unlike him to keep me waiting,” Ruka muttered under his breath, his crimson eyes scanning the surrounding shadows.

A minute passed, and then he felt it—a heavy presence emerging from the darkness. From the shadows of a nearby alley, Barou Shoei stepped into the faint light, his towering frame exuding an air of menace. His intense crimson gaze locked onto Ruka, and the faint glint of his sharp fangs became visible as he approached. The moonlight caught the red streak in Barou’s black hair, adding to his predatory aura.

Barou’s expression was cold and unamused, his eyes narrowing as he stopped a few paces away from Ruka. “You’re late,” Barou grunted, though his tone carried more disdain than genuine frustration.

Ruka sighed, his breath visible in the cold air. “Spare me the theatrics, Barou. You know why I’m here.” He crossed his arms, his posture tense but unwavering.

Barou’s lip curled into a faint sneer. “The deal, right? Making sure your precious little cousin doesn’t fall prey to the others.” He stepped closer, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel. “And you expect me to do this out of the kindness of my heart?”

Ruka’s crimson eyes hardened. “I’m not stupid. I know you want something in return. So, name your price.”

Barou chuckled darkly, the sound low and guttural. “You already know what I want.” His gaze flicked pointedly to Ruka’s neck. “Your blood.”

The demand hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Ruka clenched his fists at his sides, his jaw tightening. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but deep down, he knew Barou wouldn’t agree to anything without taking what he wanted.

“Fine,” Ruka said through gritted teeth. His voice was steady, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. “If it ensures [Name]’s safety, you can have it.”

Barou’s sneer widened into a sinister grin. “Good. At least you’re not as pathetic as the others who’ve begged me for favors.” He stepped closer, towering over Ruka like a predator closing in on its prey.

Ruka unzipped his jacket slowly, exposing the pale skin of his neck. The cold air stung, but it was nothing compared to the anticipation of what was to come. He tilted his head slightly to the side, his crimson eyes meeting Barou’s.

“Just get it over with,” Ruka muttered.

Barou didn’t need further invitation. In a flash, he closed the gap between them, his hands gripping Ruka’s shoulders with iron strength. Without hesitation, he sank his fangs into Ruka’s neck.

The pain was immediate and sharp, like twin blades piercing his skin. Ruka’s breath hitched, and his body tensed as Barou began to drink. The sensation was unlike anything he’d felt before—a mix of searing pain and an unsettling pull as his blood was drained in powerful gulps.

Barou’s grip tightened, his hunger evident as he drank deeply. Each pull felt like fire coursing through Ruka’s veins, leaving him weaker with every passing second. Ruka clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to stay upright. A groan of pain escaped his lips, but he refused to let it turn into a cry.

All for her, he reminded himself. All for [Name].

Barou finally pulled back, his lips stained with crimson. He licked the remaining blood from his fangs, his expression one of satisfaction. “You’re strong, I’ll give you that. Most wouldn’t last as long as you did.”

Ruka staggered slightly but caught himself before his knees could give out. His face was pale, and a cold sweat clung to his skin. He zipped his jacket back up, hiding the fresh wound.

“Are we done here?” Ruka asked, his voice hoarse but steady.

Barou smirked. “For now. A deal’s a deal. I’ll keep an eye on her. But don’t think this means I’m at your beck and call.” He stepped back into the shadows, his voice fading as he disappeared. “Try not to die before our next meeting, Sanzuku.”

Ruka watched him go, his body trembling slightly from blood loss. He turned and began the slow walk back to his dorm, each step feeling heavier than the last.

When he finally reached his room, he shrugged off his jacket and stepped into the bathroom. The fluorescent light buzzed faintly as he turned it on, revealing his pale reflection in the mirror. His shirt was stained with blood near the collar, and the bite marks on his neck were deep and angry. With a glare he took off his clothes and dumped them in the laundry basket.

Without hesitation, Ruka turned on the shower, stepping under the icy spray. The cold water hit his skin like needles, but it helped to numb the ache in his neck. He leaned against the tiled wall, letting the water wash away the blood and the tension of the night.

After bandaging the wound with practiced precision, he collapsed onto his bed. His body ached, but his mind refused to rest.

The thought of her surrounded by vampires like Sae, Kaiser, and Ness gnawed at him. Their growing fondness for her wasn’t just troubling—it was dangerous. He clenched his fists, his crimson eyes staring at the ceiling.

“I won’t let them have her,” he muttered to himself. “No matter what it takes.”

With that vow lingering in his mind, Ruka finally drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by the faces of those who threatened his cousin’s safety and the lengths he would go to protect her.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The morning sun poured through the tall windows of the campus hallway, casting a warm glow on the bustling students. [Name] and Hitomi walked side by side, chatting about their plans for the day. The faint scent of coffee and autumn leaves wafted through the air, blending with the hum of conversations around them.

“Don’t forget we’re meeting for lunch later,” Hitomi reminded, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

[Name] smiled, brushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “Of course. Can’t wait to hear more about your skincare adventures.”

Hitomi laughed, playfully nudging her. “Hey, a girl’s gotta glow, right?”

As they approached a junction in the hallway, the girls parted ways, waving goodbye to one another. [Name] turned down a less crowded corridor, her thoughts already on her upcoming class. The sound of her shoes echoed softly against the polished floors.

But her peace didn’t last long. Distracted by her phone, she wasn’t paying attention to where she was going and collided with someone head-on. The impact jolted her, and her books slipped from her grasp, scattering across the floor.

“Ugh, not again!” [Name] muttered under her breath, quickly bending down to gather her things. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking—”

Before she could finish her apology, a sharp, irritated voice cut her off. “Watch where you’re going, idiot!”

[Name]’s head snapped up, her eyes locking onto an unfamiliar face. The boy she had bumped into stood tall, his muscular frame looming over her. His pale blonde hair was flat and slightly messy, and his amber eyes narrowed with annoyance. Dark, thick lashes framed his intense gaze, and his shark-like teeth were bared in a scowl.

She blinked, momentarily taken aback by his intimidating presence. “I said I’m sorry,” she said, her tone firmer this time as she straightened up.

“Sorry doesn’t fix my shirt,” he shot back, brushing off an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. “Try paying attention next time.”

[Name] felt her annoyance bubbling to the surface. She had dealt with rude people before, but his attitude grated on her nerves. “Maybe if you weren’t stomping around like a bull, this wouldn’t have happened,” she snapped, crossing her arms.

The boy raised an eyebrow, his irritation briefly giving way to amusement. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” she replied, her voice steady as she picked up the last of her books. Without giving him a chance to respond, she turned on her heel and walked away, her long twin-tails swaying with each step.

The boy—Jingo Raichi—watched her retreating figure with a bemused smirk. His initial annoyance faded, replaced by a spark of interest. She wasn’t like the other students who cowered under his sharp tone or his intimidating presence. Instead, she had snapped right back at him, her fiery attitude catching him off guard.

“Spunky little thing,” he muttered to himself, his amber eyes following her until she disappeared into a classroom down the hall.

For a moment, he stood there, replaying the encounter in his mind. Her mismatched eyes, her sharp tongue, and the way she held her ground—it all intrigued him in a way he hadn’t expected.

Raichi crossed his arms, his smirk widening as a thought crossed his mind. “This might be fun,” he said under his breath, already planning how he could cross paths with her again.

As the hallway returned to its usual rhythm, Raichi finally turned and made his way to his own class, though his thoughts remained on the girl who had dared to stand up to him.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The atmosphere in the mathematics classroom was calm but charged with the usual morning energy. The windows let in soft rays of sunlight that illuminated the rows of desks and chairs, and the faint sound of shuffling papers filled the room. [Name] took her seat in the middle row, setting her notebook on the desk in front of her. The cool metal of her pen felt comforting in her hand as she prepared for the lesson.

She exhaled softly, grateful to have arrived on time despite her earlier hallway mishap. As she adjusted her red-rimmed glasses, she noticed movement beside her.

A young man with white hair and striking brown eyes took the seat to her left, offering her a warm, welcoming smile. His features were strikingly handsome, accentuated by the small mole under his left eye. His overall demeanor was calm and friendly, and he carried himself with a natural charm that instantly drew attention.

“Good morning,” he said in a kind tone. “I’m Ryosuke Kira. Looks like we’re seatmates today.”

[Name] blinked, momentarily stunned by his appearance. She quickly snapped herself out of it and returned his smile. “Good morning. I’m [Name] Sanzuku. Nice to meet you.”

Kira nodded, his smile deepening. “Nice to meet you too, [Name]. Let’s do our best today.”

Just as she was about to reply, [Name] felt another presence to her right. She turned her head to see a taller boy with white hair with dark roots tied into a bun and a sharp, wiry frame. His relaxed expression and faint, an approachable air despite his somewhat intimidating stature.

“Yo,” he greeted casually, his voice carrying an easygoing tone. “I’m Gin Gagamaru. Mind if I sit here?”

[Name] gave a small nod, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sudden attention. “Not at all.”

As Gin settled into his seat, she found herself sandwiched between the two boys. Kira’s friendly demeanor on her left and Gin’s laid-back attitude on her right created an odd yet strangely comfortable balance.

However, as she glanced around the classroom, something struck her as odd. There were noticeably more boys than girls present. In front of her, she spotted a boy with swift black bangs that partially obscured his eyes, his posture composed as he set up his materials. Behind her, another student with silver locks of hair leaned lazily against his chair, his sharp gaze surveying the room.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she counted the ratio of male to female students. There’s definitely more guys than girls here... Is this normal? she thought to herself.

Despite her observation, she noted a handful of girls scattered across the room, each quietly preparing for the lesson. They seemed outnumbered, but at least she wasn’t completely alone in that regard.

Despite her efforts to concentrate, she couldn’t shake the strange sensation of being watched.

To her left, Kira glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his smile unwavering as he seemed genuinely interested in her presence. On her right, Gin leaned slightly forward, his deep eyes scanning her face curiously before returning to his desk.

‘Why do I feel like I’m being surrounded?’ [Name] thought, trying to suppress the growing unease in her chest. Nonetheless, she resolved to push it aside and focus on the lesson ahead.

The classroom door swung open with flair, and in walked a man who immediately commanded everyone’s attention. Lavinho, the mathematics professor, strode in with an energy that seemed to radiate through the room. His tan skin glistened faintly under the fluorescent lights, and his mullet—stylized with bold, checkered side cuts—bounced slightly with every step he took. His sleeveless attire revealed his tattooed arms, which bore intricate patterns that added to his larger-than-life presence. He wore a necklace that jingled softly as he moved, and though circular sunglasses perched on his nose, he casually removed them as he reached the front of the room, revealing sharp, expressive eyes that seemed to twinkle with mischief.

“Bom dia, meus alunos!” Lavinho greeted in a booming, cheerful tone, his Brazilian accent flavoring every word. “Good morning, my students! I hope you’re ready for a day of learning... and maybe a little fun, huh?”

The class murmured in response, some students smiling while others blinked at his eccentricity. Lavinho planted his hands on the edge of his desk, leaning forward slightly with a wide grin.

“Let me introduce myself,” he said, his voice full of dramatic flair. “I am Lavinho, the best mathematics professor you will ever meet. Why? Because I don’t just teach numbers, meus amigos. I teach you how to feel the numbers. To see the beauty, the rhythm, the passion in mathematics!”

[Name]’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She hadn’t expected her math professor to be so... theatrical. To her left, Kira smirked in mild amusement, while Gin on her right leaned back slightly, clearly intrigued.

Lavinho straightened up, spreading his arms wide as if addressing a stadium rather than a classroom. “Now, before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s start with something simple—attendance! I need to know who’s here so I can put names to all these beautiful faces.”

He pulled out a clipboard from his desk, flipping through the pages with exaggerated enthusiasm. “When I call your name, just give me a little ‘Here!’ or ‘Present!’ Or, if you’re feeling bold, tell me your favorite number and why! Let’s spice it up!”

The room chuckled lightly at his suggestion, and one by one, students began responding as he read out the names.

“Saki Moragami,” Lavinho called, glancing toward the side of the room.

“Here,” a girl named Saki replied politely, offering a small wave.

“Kairu Samaradara?”

“Present,” the boy with the white locks said in his laid-back tone, raising a hand lazily.

As the roll call continued, [Name] felt herself relaxing slightly. Lavinho’s energy, while overwhelming at first, was oddly infectious. He made mathematics feel less intimidating, even if she wasn’t sure how his dramatic teaching style would translate into actual learning.

Finally, her name came up. “[Name] Sanzuku?”

“Here,” she replied, her voice clear but soft.

Lavinho’s head snapped toward her, his grin widening. “Ah, [Name]! A lovely name! I have a feeling you’re going to be one of my stars this semester. Am I right, or am I right?”

Caught off guard, [Name] felt her cheeks warm as the class chuckled lightly. “Um... I’ll try my best, Professor.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lavinho declared, clapping his hands together. “Now, let’s dive in. Today, we’re going to explore the elegance of quadratic equations. But don’t worry—I promise, by the end of this class, you’ll be dreaming about parabolas!”

Despite the skepticism that flickered across some students’ faces, Lavinho’s enthusiasm was undeniable. As he began the lesson, he paced the room energetically, weaving in metaphors and anecdotes that somehow connected math to football, life, and even love.

[Name] found herself unexpectedly engaged, her pen moving quickly to keep up with the professor’s rapid explanations. Beside her, both Kira and Gin seemed equally focused, though Kira occasionally glanced her way with a small, knowing smile.

The day was off to an unusual start, but [Name] couldn’t help but think that, with a professor like Lavinho, it would never be boring.

The lecture continued with Lavinho commanding the room like a maestro orchestrating a grand performance. He moved with animated gestures, pointing at equations on the board with the flourish of a conductor's baton. Each line of numbers he wrote seemed to come alive as he spoke.

“Now, who can tell me,” Lavinho said, his voice rising dramatically, “what happens when we solve this quadratic equation?” He underlined on the whiteboard with a grand sweep of his marker.

A few students glanced nervously at one another, unsure whether to speak up. [Name] hesitated before raising her hand tentatively.

“Ah! [Name]! Minha estrela!” Lavinho exclaimed, pointing at her with a proud smile. “Tell us what you see, querida.”

[Name] cleared her throat, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on her. “Um... You can factor it into , and then solve for, so.”

Lavinho clapped his hands together with a booming laugh. “Perfecto! Brilliant work! And what does this mean, class? It means [Name] has just uncovered the secret of a repeated root!” He turned back to the board, drawing an exaggerated parabola that just touched the -axis at . “See? The curve only kisses the axis here. A moment of pure romance in mathematics!”

The class chuckled, and [Name] felt a mix of pride and secondhand embarrassment.

Lavinho continued, pacing as he scribbled down more problems. “Math, meus amigos, is not just numbers! It is a story. A tale of rise and fall. Of symmetry, balance, and beauty! Every equation is a journey!”

Gin leaned over slightly toward [Name], his black eyes glinting with humor. “This guy could make a soap opera out of a graph.”

[Name] suppressed a laugh, whispering back, “I think that’s exactly what he’s doing.”

On her other side, Kira appeared genuinely engrossed in the lecture, his pen moving fluidly across his notebook as he jotted down notes. Occasionally, he glanced at [Name], his warm brown eyes soft with quiet interest.

Meanwhile, Lavinho threw himself fully into teaching, occasionally tossing out challenges to the class. “Who wants to come up and solve this next one? Hmm?”

A few students ducked their heads, but one brave soul—a tall guy with teal bangs—rose from his seat and strode to the board confidently. Lavinho clapped him on the back and handed him the marker.

[Name] watched the student tackle the equation, admiring his ease with the material. She couldn’t help but notice how many guys in the room exude this strange combination of confidence and charm. It was... distracting.

As the class progressed, the rhythm of Lavinho’s teaching kept everyone engaged, even those who had initially seemed uninterested. By the time the bell rang to signal the end of the period, most of the students were buzzing with energy.

“Great work today, everyone!” Lavinho called out, holding his arms wide as if he were embracing the entire class. “Remember, mathematics is not a subject. It’s a lifestyle! Go live it!”

[Name] packed her things, her mind still processing the whirlwind of equations, metaphors, and theatrics. As she stood to leave, Kira turned to her with a polite smile.

“Nice job earlier,” he said. “That was a pretty tough problem to start with.”

“Oh, thanks,” [Name] replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You seemed pretty focused on yourself.”

“Gotta keep up,” Kira said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Besides, Lavinho makes it hard to get bored.”

She then chuckled at the mere thought. “Hard to believe math could be entertaining, but I’ll give him credit.”

The three walked out of the room together, and for the first time, [Name] felt a little more at ease in this new environment—though the lingering feeling of being surrounded by enigmatic figures still kept her on edge.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] adjusted her bag and settled into her seat in the first middle row, feeling a bit relieved that she made it on time without any incidents. As she pulled out her notebook and prepared for what promised to be a rigorous session in Economical Biology, the sound of a chair scraping behind her caught her attention.

Then, a rich, deep voice, smooth and dripping with charisma, spoke from directly behind her.

“Osha~ What a stylish choice of a seat.”

She turned around, startled, only to be greeted by a strikingly tall figure. He had long, flowing blackish-brown hair cascading to his waist, with perfectly polished black nails and a natural elegance that radiated from every fiber of his being. His black eyes seemed to gleam with an otherworldly charm, and his presence was both magnetic and theatrical.

“Oh! Uh, thank you?” [Name] stammered, caught off guard by his almost ethereal appearance.

He leaned slightly closer, examining her hair with great interest. “My, my, such stylish strands! What treatment do you use, darling? I simply must know!”

[Name] blinked, unsure how to respond. “Uh, just... regular shampoo and conditioner, I guess?”

Aryu placed a hand dramatically over his heart, as though her words had struck a chord. “Regular? Impossible! That shine, that bounce—it is far too elegant to be mundane. Truly, your hair is the epitome of what I call stylishness!”

She couldn’t help but chuckle, amused by his flamboyant demeanor. “Well, thank you. Your hair’s not too bad either. I mean, it’s pretty impressive, honestly.”

Aryu straightened, his long limbs and elegant posture making him seem even taller. “Impressive, she says!” He flipped a strand of his hair over his shoulder with a flourish. “Why, gorgeousness such as this takes dedication, [Name]-san. May I sit next to you? A seat beside someone with such a sense of style would be fitting.”

“Sure,” [Name] replied, gesturing to the open seat beside her. “Go ahead.”

Aryu sat down with a graceful motion, folding his long legs carefully under the desk. As he did, he struck a pose, leaning slightly to one side and resting his chin on his hand. “Such stylish kindness. Truly, you are a gem in this drab world of science.”

‘Is he Jojo posing?’ [Name] suppressed a grin. “You’re really into this whole stylish thing, aren’t you?”

He sighed dramatically, waving his hand as if to dismiss the question. “Into it? No, no, no, my dear. I embody it.” His tone turned slightly wistful. “Though, I do admit, my name... Aryu Jyubie. It is such a burden. So old-fashioned. So... unstylish.”

She tilted her head, genuinely confused. “I don’t think it’s a bad name. It’s unique.”

Aryu perked up immediately, his dark eyes lighting with delight. “You think so? Ah, what a stylish compliment! Perhaps I can overcome this complex with your encouragement, [Name]-san. You are a beacon of light, truly.”

As [Name] settled into her seat, a hush fell over the room as the doors swung open. Striding in was the professor, her commanding presence turning all heads in her direction.

Ms. Luiza Bogdanova was tall and elegant, with jet-black hair cascading down her back, her bangs casting a shadow over her intense maroon eyes. The sharp contrast of her pale ivory skin and the dark maroon lipstick she wore gave her an almost ethereal appearance. She was dressed in a tailored dark blouse and a sleek pencil skirt, her demeanor exuding authority. A small mole beneath her right eye added a touch of intrigue to her otherwise intimidating look.

“Good morning, class,” she said, her Russian accent heavy, each word deliberate. “I am Ms. Bogdanova, and I vill be your Economical Biology instructor. Before ve begin, I must make it clear—I expect discipline and attentiveness in my class.” Her tone was not harsh but carried a weight that demanded respect.

Her eyes swept across the room, lingering briefly on each student. Though her expression was neutral, the intensity of her gaze made several students sit up straighter.

“I vwill now take attendance. Answer promptly,” she stated, her voice cutting through the room like a blade.

As she read through the list of names, her accent became more pronounced, struggling with certain syllables but maintaining her composure. When she finished the roll call, she paused, scanning the room.

“One name is missing,” she said, her tone sharp yet faintly puzzled. “Isagi Yoichi? He is not here.”

At that moment, the doors creaked open, and a young man hurried inside, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Bogdanova!” he exclaimed, bowing apologetically. “I got lost on my way here. It won’t happen again.”

The class erupted into quiet snickers and whispers, some students exchanging amused glances. Ms. Bogdanova’s maroon eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded him, her expression unreadable.

“Excuses are for those who lack preparation, Mr. Isagi,” she said, her accent emphasizing every word. “But I vwill not punish you on your first day. Sit in the nearest seat—immediately.”

Yoichi nodded quickly, his face turning an even deeper shade of red as he scanned for an open seat. The closest one was next to [Name], who offered him a kind smile as he slid into the chair, clearly flustered.

As he sat down, Aryu leaned slightly toward [Name] and murmured, “Lateness, [Name]-san... so unstylish.”

[Name] stifled a giggle and turned her attention to Yoichi, who was trying to avoid the judgmental stares of his classmates. She leaned closer, her voice gentle. “Don’t let it get to you. Everyone gets lost or late on their first day. It’s no big deal.”

Yoichi glanced at her, surprised by her kind tone. “Thanks,” he whispered, offering a shy smile. “I’ll do better next time.”

Ms. Bogdanova tapped a long finger against the desk, drawing their attention back to her. “If ve are done vith distractions, ve shall begin,” she announced, her voice slicing through the lingering murmurs. “This is Economical Biology, one of the most difficult courses you vill take. But do not be afraid. Fear only makes you vweak.”

The room fell silent as she began the lesson, her demanding aura permeating the atmosphere. Despite her stern exterior, [Name] couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity about the professor. There was something about Ms. Bogdanova’s presence—though intimidating, it hinted at a depth she couldn’t yet place.

Beside her, Yoichi seemed to relax slightly, stealing occasional glances at [Name], as if silently thanking her for her earlier words. On her other side, Aryu continued to sit elegantly, his long fingers drumming against the desk, already planning his next “stylish” comment for the professor’s intense teaching style.

As Ms. Bogdanova began the lesson, her authoritative voice filled the room, weaving complex definitions and intricate concepts into the air. Words like bio socioeconomic theory and adaptive resource cycles rolled off her tongue, her heavy accent making some of the terms sound even more daunting. She wrote dense formulas and diagrams on the board, her movements sharp and precise.

[Name] dutifully jotted down notes in her notebook, her handwriting neat and efficient. Around her, the sound of pens scratching paper filled the air. She could feel the intensity of Ms. Bogdanova’s presence pressing down on the class like an unspoken challenge.

To her left, however, Yoichi was struggling. His brow furrowed in concentration, and he kept glancing between the board and his notebook, his pen hovering uncertainty over the paper. He scribbled something down, paused, and then scratched it out, frustration etched on his face.

[Name] noticed his unease out of the corner of her eye. She hesitated for a moment, glancing toward the front of the room to ensure Ms. Bogdanova wasn’t looking their way. Then, she leaned slightly toward Yoichi, keeping her voice low.

“Need a hand?” she whispered softly, her tone kind.

Yoichi blinked, startled by her offer. “Uh, yeah,” he admitted, his voice equally quiet. “I’m having trouble figuring out what she means by this whole ‘resource cycles’ thing.” He gestured toward a particularly confusing diagram in his notebook.

[Name] smiled reassuringly and pointed to her own notes. “Here, it’s about how biological systems distribute resources based on environmental and social factors. See this part?” She tapped the section in her notebook that simplified the explanation. “It’s like a feedback loop—organisms adapt based on what’s available and how it affects their survival.”

Yoichi’s eyes lit up in recognition as he quickly copied down her explanation. “Oh, that makes so much more sense,” he whispered, his frustration melting into gratitude. “Thanks, [Name]. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime,” she replied, a warm smile on her face. “Let me know if you get stuck again.”

As the lecture continued, [Name] subtly kept an eye on Yoichi, offering occasional clarifications when she saw him hesitate. Each time, he nodded appreciatively, clearly grateful for her quiet support.

Meanwhile, Aryu, sitting to her right, took notice of their interaction and leaned over slightly, his deep voice low and amused. “Helping the less stylish, [Name]-san? Truly, you are too kind.”

She shot him a playful look but didn’t reply, turning her attention back to her notes. Yoichi, on the other hand, looked both confused and mildly embarrassed at Aryu’s comment.

The lesson pressed on, and though the material remained challenging, Yoichi seemed more confident with [Name]’s help. When the class finally ended, he packed up his notebook and turned to her, a shy smile on his face.

“Thanks again,” he said earnestly. “I don’t think I would’ve made it through that without you.”

“It’s no big deal,” [Name] replied cheerfully. “You’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

As they filed out of the classroom, Yoichi couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, the stress of the lesson tempered by [Name]’s kindness. He decided then that he’d have to repay her somehow—and maybe even get to know her better.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Ruka stood by the grand window of the club room, the evening's amber glow casting long shadows across the walls. His foot tapped impatiently against the polished floor as he checked his watch for the third time in five minutes. His usually composed expression was taut with irritation, his eyes flicking toward the sky as if it held the answer to his unrest.

Behind him, the air buzzed with tension and the contrasting personalities of his companions. Sae Itoshi sat in an armchair near the fireplace, a leather-bound book in his hands. His sharp features were calm, unreadable, as his piercing gaze scanned the pages. He radiated an air of indifference, purposefully detached from the antics around him.

On the other side of the room, Michael Kaiser lounged with an elegance only he could pull off, a wine glass in hand. He swirled the dark red liquid lazily before taking a sip, his sharp vampire fangs glinting faintly in the light. “Ah, exquisite,” he mused, his voice laced with arrogance. “A symphony of flavors on my tongue.” He smirked and cast a sidelong glance at Ruka. “Speaking of taste, Ruka, you seem particularly...tense today. Could it be because of a certain someone?”

Ruka didn’t bite. He didn’t even turn to face him, his jaw tightening as he continued to stare out the window. Michael’s smirk deepened.

Seated on the couch, Don Lorenzo was the complete opposite of the refined Michael. He lounged with his long limbs sprawled out, a bucket of caramel popcorn in his lap. Each bite was obnoxiously loud, the crunch echoing in the otherwise spacious room. Lorenzo’s purple-tipped hair fell messily over his face, but his sharp, gold teeth gleamed with every exaggerated chew. “Okay,” he said around a mouthful of popcorn, “what’s got you so worked up, Rukie? You're pacing like that’s making me dizzy, okay.”

Ruka didn’t respond, but his fingers curled tighter against the windowsill. Lorenzo glanced at Michael, who offered a knowing shrug, before leaning forward with a wicked grin commenting a certain relative to the Italian. This seemed to pick his interest at the thought and found a way to get under Ruka's skin.

“Hey,” Lorenzo said, drawing out the word. “You have someone that you hide from us, right? Let me guess, a girl!?” He popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth, the crunch deliberate and drawn out. “Bet she tastes amazing, huh? Sweet, maybe? Or is she spicy? Oh, I bet she’s got a tangy kick to her. What do you think, okay?”

The words hit Ruka like a hammer, and he spun around, his expression fierce. “Shut your mouth, Lorenzo!” His voice thundered through the room, echoing off the walls. His pale cheeks flushed with anger, and his piercing glare was locked onto Lorenzo.

Lorenzo, unfazed, threw his head back and laughed, the sound wild and grating. “Oh, come on, Rukie! Don’t tell me you’re this sensitive, okay. You’re no fun!” He leaned back on the couch, still laughing like a hyena, clearly enjoying the way he’d gotten under Ruka’s skin.

Michael chuckled quietly, his smirk growing even more devious. “Touchy, aren’t we?” he drawled, taking another slow sip from his glass. “I wonder if she’s as spirited as you are, Ruka. I imagine she’d be quiet... entertaining.”

Ruka took a sharp step forward, his fists clenched, but stopped himself. He exhaled deeply, reigning in his temper. “Say another word about her, and I’ll—”

“Relax, Ruka,” Michael interrupted smoothly, raising his glass as if in a toast. “We’re just curious, that’s all. No need to get so defensive.”

Meanwhile, Sae remained silent, his eyes never leaving the book in his hands. But his mind wasn’t on the words he was reading. ‘No,’ his thoughts were elsewhere—on [Name]. The mention of her name had stirred something deep within him, an unshakable allure. Her scent, faint yet intoxicating, lingered in his memory, consuming his thoughts. He imagined her soft neck, the pulse beneath her skin, the taste of her blood on his lips. His grip on the book tightened slightly, though his face betrayed nothing.

Ruka noticed Sae’s uncharacteristic stillness and narrowed his eyes. “Sae,” he barked, his tone sharp. “You’ve got something to say?”

Sae finally looked up, his calm gaze meeting Ruka’s. “No,” he said simply, his voice smooth and detached. “Just reading.” He returned to his book, though his mind remained far from the pages.

Ruka scowled but didn’t press further. He turned back to the window, his tension palpable as his thoughts swirled. Around him, Micahel smirked, Lorenzo laughed, and Sae schemed silently. The atmosphere was a dangerous mix of mockery, obsession, and restraint.

For [Name]’s sake, Ruka resolved to remain vigilant. They were circling her like wolves, and he knew the storm was only beginning.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] entered the psychology classroom, the hum of conversation filling the space as students settled into their seats. Scanning the room, she noticed most of the seats were already taken. With little choice, she hurried toward an open spot in the middle row, sliding into the chair next to a towering, broad-shouldered figure who seemed to shrink in on himself despite his size.

The boy turned his head toward her cautiously, his round green eyes wide with surprise. His nervous posture and the slight flush creeping up his neck gave away his shyness. She offered him a friendly smile and said, “Hi, I’m [Name]. Mind if I sit here?”

He froze for a moment before stammering, “N-No, not at all! I-I mean, yes, please sit! I-I’m Tokimitsu Aoishi!” His voice cracked slightly, and he immediately looked down, his large hands fidgeting with the edges of his notebook.

[Name] chuckled lightly at his nervousness. “Nice to meet you, Tokimitsu. You look pretty strong! Are you on a sports team or something?”

Tokimitsu’s face turned bright red at her compliment, and he mumbled, “N-No, I’m not on any team… but I-I work out sometimes.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly unused to receiving attention, especially from someone like her.

On her left side, [Name] noticed another boy sitting quietly, his head resting against his hand. He had a tired, almost haunted look, with dark bags under his eyes that stood out against his pale skin. His shoulder-length, blackish-green hair framed his face, and the freckles dotting his cheeks gave him a touch of charm despite his worn appearance.

He glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable, before murmuring, “Itsuki Wakatsuki... That’s my name.” His voice was so low that [Name] had to lean in slightly to catch his words.

“Nice to meet you too, Itsuki,” she replied with a warm smile. “You seem a little tired—are you okay?”

Wakatsuki blinked, startled by her genuine concern. He nodded faintly but avoided her gaze. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep much last night.”

[Name] noticed the faint hint of effort he put into the conversation and appreciated it, deciding not to press further. “Well, I hope this class doesn’t put you to sleep,” she teased lightly, trying to put him at ease.

Wakatsuki gave a small, almost shy smile, his eyes softening ever so slightly. “I’ll… try to stay awake.”

As [Name] struck up lighthearted conversation with Tokimitsu and Wakatsuki, she couldn’t help but glance around the room, taking note of her other classmates. Psychology wasn’t a small class, but she realized with a twinge of unease that there were far more guys than girls—only about four or five other girls dotted the room.

Her gaze landed on someone particularly striking. Leaning back in his chair as if the world revolved around him was a tall, tanned young man with spiky blond hair that faded into pink at the tips. Two strands framed his face, emphasizing his sharp, angular features. What stood out most were his piercing pink irises, the slit pupils giving him a cat-like intensity. He had a devil-may-care attitude, resting with one arm lazily draped over the back of his chair, a grin stretching across his face like he knew a secret no one else did.

[Name] found herself staring a little too long, and when their eyes met, he smirked knowingly. Embarrassed, she quickly gave him a polite, nervous smile before turning her attention elsewhere.

This time, her eyes fell on another boy—tall, slim, and refined in appearance. His orange eyes gleamed behind round spectacles, and his neatly stylized brown hair gave him a sophisticated charm. [Name] thought he bore a passing resemblance to Harry Potter, albeit a much more handsome version. Something about his calm, intellectual demeanor intrigued her, and she wondered what he was like.

Further into the room, she spotted a familiar face—Reo Mikage, already seated and scanning through a notebook. He looked perfectly composed, as always, and she noticed a few others exchanging whispers about him, likely impressed by his wealthy, polished image.

Several other unfamiliar faces caught her attention too, but before she could take in more details, the sound of heavy footsteps snapped her focus forward.

A tall, commanding figure strode into the classroom, instantly demanding attention. The man had a striking presence, his blond hair styled with short sides and longer bangs swept to the left, framing his sharp, almost aristocratic features. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room with a mix of calculation and amusement, a subtle smirk playing at his lips.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” the professor said, his voice smooth yet laced with an unmistakable air of arrogance. “I am Mr. Luna, your psychology professor.” His Spanish accent rolled off his words, adding a certain flair to his introduction.

[Name] exchanged a glance with Tokimitsu, who looked intimidated, and Wakatsuki, who seemed indifferent but a little wary.

“Let’s begin with attendance,” Mr. Luna continued, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scanned his list. With every name he called, he made a sarcastic remark or sharp observation, his tone teetering between playful and cutting as he went down the list of names.

“Tokimitsu Aoishi,” he called, glancing up. “Ah, the gentle giant. Try not to crush your desk with those massive hands.”

Tokimitsu blushed deeply, his hands fumbling with his notebook. “Y-Yes, sir,” he mumbled. Taking many names along the way and landed on Itsuki’s.

“Wakatsuki Itsuki,” Mr. Luna said next, his gaze sharp. “You look like you’ve barely slept. Are we keeping you from your beauty rest?”

Wakatsuki muttered something incoherent, avoiding eye contact.

When Mr. Luna finally reached [Name]’s name, his smirk widened slightly. “[Name] Sanzuku,” he said, leaning back as if to assess her. “A name with weight. Let’s hope the mind is just as remarkable.”

[Name] felt a prickle of nerves under his scrutinizing gaze but nodded politely. “Yes, sir.”

With the attendance completed, Mr. Luna strode to the front of the class. “Let’s begin,” he announced, his tone shifting to a lecture style that was both engaging and unnervingly direct. “Psychology is not for the faint-hearted. If you think you can skate by, I assure you, you won’t. Now, open your textbooks. You’ll need them.”

As the lesson progressed, [Name] couldn’t shake the feeling of being observed. Glancing around, she caught the blond boy with the pink tips watching her again, his smirk still firmly in place. Then she noticed Reo glancing her way briefly before refocusing on his notes. Even the boy with the glasses looked over at her once or twice, adjusting his frames with a thoughtful expression.

[Name] shook her head, determined to focus on the lecture. It was going to be a long day.

As the lecture continued, Itsuki leaned over his textbook, visibly struggling to work through a particularly tricky question. [Name] noticed his furrowed brow and whispered softly, “Do you need help with that?”

Itsuki glanced at her, his dark-ringed eyes lighting up briefly with hope. “Uh, yeah… If you don’t mind—”

Before he could finish, Mr. Luna appeared beside their desks, his hand pressing firmly down on Itsuki’s textbook. “Figure it out yourself,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his piercing eyes. “If you can’t, you won’t meet the requirements for this course.”

Itsuki froze, his hands tightening into fists under the desk as the professor’s words hung heavy in the air. [Name] frowned, her instinct to protest bubbling up, but Mr. Luna was already walking away, his smile unbroken as he moved back to the front of the room.

Leaning closer to Itsuki, she whispered, “Don’t worry about him. You’re doing fine. Just take your time, and if you still need help, I’ll find a way to explain later.”

Itsuki nodded slowly, his tense posture easing slightly as he muttered a quiet, “Thanks.”

The class carried on with lectures and notes, the scratching of pens and shuffling of papers filling the room. [Name] was fully engrossed in her notebook when she felt something soft hit her shoulder. Startled, she looked down and saw a crumpled paper ball sitting on her desk.

Turning her head, she caught sight of the blond guy with pink-tipped hair sitting a few rows behind her. He leaned back in his chair with a smug grin, snickering as he pointed at the paper ball, clearly proud of his childish attempt to get her attention.

Suppressing a sigh, [Name] picked up the paper and carefully uncrumpled it. The message inside made her roll her eyes:

"You’re really cute. What’s your number?"

Without missing a beat, [Name] crumpled the paper back into a ball and tossed it into the nearby trash can. The blond boy let out a soft “Tch” sound, but his smirk didn’t falter, as if he found her reaction amusing.

Unbothered, [Name] turned her attention back to her notes, resolutely focusing on the lecture. If he thought she’d be an easy target, he was in for a surprise.

As the lecture concluded and students began to gather their belongings, the usual bustle of chatter filled the room. [Name] neatly packed her notebook and pens into her bag, eager to move on to her next class without further distractions. Just as she zipped her bag, she felt an imposing presence behind her. Turning slowly, her gaze met with a mischievous smirk and striking pink-tipped blond hair.

It was the same guy who had thrown the paper ball earlier.

“Well, well, fancy seeing you here,” he drawled, his cat-like pink eyes glinting with amusement. His voice was smooth but carried a cocky undertone. “Name’s Ryusei Shidou. And you, princess, caught my eye.”

[Name] blinked, her brows furrowing. “Princess?” she echoed, her tone flat. “What do you want?”

Leaning against her desk, Ryusei folded his arms and grinned wider, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Just wanted to say hi. You know, I couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked ignoring me earlier. Thought I’d give you another chance to talk to me.”

[Name]’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Another chance? Wow, you really think highly of yourself, don’t you?” She stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Look, I don’t have time for this, so if you’ll excuse me—”

Ryusei sidestepped, effectively blocking her path. His grin turned feral, and there was a wild energy in his eyes now, like he was enjoying some kind of game. “You’re feisty. I like that,” he said, tilting his head to examine her closely. “Bet you’re not used to a guy like me, huh?”

“Used to what?” [Name] snapped, folding her arms. “Guys who think they’re all that just because they can talk a big game? Please. I’ve seen it before, and it’s not impressive.”

That struck a nerve, but Ryusei masked it quickly with a low chuckle. “Ouch. Got some claws, don’t you? Makes me want to see what’s under all that sass.”

[Name] shot him a glare, her heterochromatic eyes narrowing. “What’s under it? A very annoyed person who’s two seconds away from walking right past you.”

Ryusei’s smirk twitched, his excitement bubbling up further. “See, that’s what I mean. You’re not like the others. They’d either run away or be all over me by now.” He stepped closer, invading her personal space, his grin widening to reveal his sharp teeth. “But you? You’ve got bite. I like a girl who makes me work for it.”

[Name] took a step back, her patience thinning. “I’m not some prize for you to win. And for the record, your ‘charming bad boy’ act? It’s not working.”

Ryusei laughed, the sound loud and unrestrained, drawing the attention of a few lingering students who quickly turned away when he shot them a sharp look. “You’re killing me, princess! God, you’ve got no idea how much fun this is.”

“Fun? I’m not here to entertain you,” [Name] retorted, her voice icy. She gestured to the exit. “Move.”

He didn’t budge, his playful demeanor shifting slightly into something more intense. His pink eyes bore into hers, the smirk on his lips softening but not fading entirely. “You’ve got this fire in you,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone. “It’s rare. Makes me wonder... what’s it gonna take to make you notice me?”

[Name] stared at him, her expression a mix of disbelief and irritation. “Notice you? You’re standing in front of me, making a scene. Congratulations, I’ve noticed. Now what?”

Ryusei leaned in just enough to make her flinch but not enough to touch her. “Now... I figured out how to keep you interested.”

[Name] took a steadying breath, clenching her fists to keep her composure. “Here’s a tip: Start by leaving me alone.”

Before he could respond, she sidestepped him and walked toward the door, her pace brisk.

“Feisty and smart,” Ryusei called after her, his grin returning. “You’ll come around, princess. They always do.”

[Name] didn’t look back, her steps echoing in the hallway as she muttered under her breath, “Not in this lifetime.”

As she disappeared around the corner, Ryusei stood in the now-empty classroom, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. His heart raced—not with frustration but with exhilaration.

“She’s different,” he murmured to himself, running a hand through his messy blond and pink hair. “Hard to get, huh? That just makes the game more fun.”

For [Name], the encounter left a sour taste in her mouth, but for Ryusei, it was only the beginning.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] trudged toward the history classroom with a heavy sigh, her steps dragging as though the weight of her dread was physically pulling her down. History, of all things, she thought miserably. The one subject she couldn't wrap her head around, no matter how hard she tried. Dates, events, and figures—all of it blurred together in her mind like a dull, repetitive reel.

Sliding into a seat toward the middle of the back row, she dropped her bag onto the desk and slouched, letting out a groan. “Please let this be easy for once,” she muttered under her breath, staring at the clock ticking closer to the start of class.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a cheerful voice. “[Name]-san?”

Looking up, she spotted Akira walking into the room, his sharp outfit slightly disheveled but still exuding his signature charm. A small smile tugged at her lips. “Akira-kun! You’re in this class too?”

Akira took the seat next to hers, flashing her a warm grin. “Looks like it. Lucky for you, right? I can tell this isn’t your favorite subject.”

“You can say that again,” she replied, slumping further into her chair. “I’m terrible at history. It’s like my brain just refuses to hold onto any of it. Honestly, I don’t know how I’m going to survive this semester.”

Akira chuckled softly, adjusting his tie. “Good thing I’m here, then. History’s one of my better subjects. If you ever need help, just ask me.”

[Name] perked up slightly. “Really? You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he said, leaning back casually. “I mean, you’re already in my debt for your number earlier, so what’s a little more tutoring?”

She laughed, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Oh, please. You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he teased, winking.

Their lighthearted banter was interrupted by the arrival of more students filing into the room. One of them, a tall boy with dark skin and long, intricately braided hair, caught [Name]’s attention. He walked to the front left row with a quiet confidence, his white, circular eyes scanning the room before settling into his seat.

Akira noticed her gaze. “That’s Agi,” he explained, leaning closer so his voice wouldn’t carry. “He’s kind of a history whiz. A little intense when it comes to analyzing things, but he’s a good guy.”

[Name] tilted her head, intrigued. “He seems... interesting.”

At that moment, Agi turned his head slightly and caught her looking. His eyes widened a fraction, and a faint blush dusted his cheeks. He gave her a small, awkward wave, which [Name] returned with a friendly smile and a wave of her own.

Akira smirked, noticing the exchange. “Looks like you’ve already made an impression.”

“Stop,” [Name] said, rolling her eyes but smiling despite herself. “I was just being polite.”

Agi quickly looked away, focusing on unpacking his notebook and pens with a slightly flustered expression. He muttered something under his breath, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The room continued to fill, the hum of voices growing louder as students greeted each other and settled into their seats. [Name] felt a little more at ease knowing Akira was there and that Agi seemed approachable. For a moment, she even forgot about how much she disliked history.

Akira nudged her arm. “Don’t get too comfortable. If Agi starts answering every question, you’ll have to deal with his teacher’s-pet energy.”

[Name] stifled a laugh. “Well, at least someone’s enthusiastic about this stuff.”

As she glanced around the room, her eyes lingered on Agi once more. He seemed to be in his own world, focused and ready to tackle whatever the class threw at him. ‘Maybe history won’t be so bad with people like this around’ she thought, allowing herself a small glimmer of hope.

The sound of the classroom door shutting drew everyone’s attention as another student entered, and [Name] glanced at the clock again. Only a few minutes left before the lecture would begin. She braced herself, determined to make the most of it—no matter how much she despised the subject.

As [Name] and Akira continued chatting about their mutual disdain—or expertise, in Akira’s case—for history, a voice from behind them broke through their conversation.

“Forgot to save me a seat, Endoji?”

Akira turned in his chair, his face lighting up. “Reiji! I didn’t think you’d make it on time. You’re usually late.”

[Name] looked up, and for a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Standing behind Akira was the most breathtakingly handsome man she had ever seen. He was tall and elegant, his long black hair tied neatly into a bun that accentuated his sharp features. His all-white irises gave him an otherworldly aura, and beneath each eye were twin moles that added to his almost ethereal charm.

Reiji Hiiragi’s gaze swept the room briefly before landing on [Name], his lips curving into a smile that was equal parts welcoming and enigmatic. “And who might this be?” he asked, his voice smooth and deliberate as his eyes lingered on her.

[Name] quickly straightened in her seat, her heart skipping a beat. “Oh, I’m [Name] Sanzuku,” she said, her voice steady despite the warmth creeping up her neck. “Nice to meet you.”

Reiji chuckled softly, his gaze sharp and calculating as he seemed to inspect her every move. “A pleasure, [Name]. I’m Reiji Hiiragi.” He held her gaze for a moment longer before adding, “I see Akira has found himself an interesting seatmate.”

[Name] blinked at the comment, unsure whether it was meant to be a compliment or a casual observation. Either way, she felt a strange pull toward him, like his presence demanded attention.

“Reiji’s one of my roommates,” Akira said, breaking the tension with his usual lighthearted tone. “We’ve been stuck together since the semester started. He’s got some… interesting habits, let’s say.”

“Fortune-telling is hardly a ‘habit,’” Reiji corrected, taking the seat directly behind Akira and leaning forward so his elbows rested on the desk. “It’s a science—a skill honed through data, observation, and intuition. Not that you’d understand, Endoji.”

Akira rolled his eyes but grinned. “See what I mean? He’s always like this.”

“Fortune-telling?” [Name] asked, tilting her head. “That’s fascinating. Do you do predictions for people, or is it more of a personal thing?”

Reiji’s smile widened, and for a moment, there was a flicker of excitement in his otherwise composed demeanor. “I do both. People come to me seeking clarity, and most of the time, I deliver. My accuracy rate speaks for itself.” His gaze dropped to her hands briefly before returning to her eyes. “Though I get the feeling you don’t rely much on predictions, do you? You seem more… instinct-driven.”

[Name] blinked, caught off guard by his perceptiveness. “I guess you could say that,” she admitted.

“Interesting,” Reiji murmured, leaning back slightly as if filing the information away for later.

The three of them continued chatting, their conversation weaving between lighthearted banter and more serious topics. [Name] found herself warming up to Reiji, despite the unsettling intensity of his gaze. He was charming and articulate, but there was something about him that felt slightly off—a subtle undercurrent of unpredictability beneath his polished exterior.

Akira, ever the mediator, kept the tone friendly and casual, though he occasionally shot Reiji a warning glance whenever his roommate’s comments veered into overly analytical territory.

“So, [Name],” Reiji said after a while, his tone light but with an edge of curiosity. “What’s your take on history? Love it or hate it?”

She let out a dramatic groan, leaning back in her chair. “Absolutely hate it. If it weren’t a required class, I wouldn’t be here.”

Reiji chuckled, his laughter low and rich. “Ah, a reluctant scholar. Don’t worry—I’m sure Akira will be more than happy to help you muddle through it.”

“Hey! I told her already that I got this!” Akira protested, though he was smiling.

[Name] laughed softly, feeling more at ease despite her initial nerves. The atmosphere between the three of them was surprisingly comfortable, even with Reiji’s piercing gaze occasionally making her self-conscious.

As the classroom continued to fill with students, [Name] glanced at the clock. The professor still hadn’t arrived, but she could sense the anticipation building in the room. For now, though, she was content to focus on her two companions, grateful for the distraction from her looming dislike of the subject.

The classroom chatter was cut short as the door swung open with an authoritative thud, and a tall, imposing figure strode inside. Chris Prince, or as he insisted on being called, Mr. Prince, immediately commanded attention with his presence. His blonde hair, streaked with white, was unkempt but styled in a way that somehow worked for him, and his light blue eyes seemed to scan the room with both amusement and disdain.

“Alright, you lot,” he began in a booming voice, his British accent laced with an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance. “Hope you’ve got your brains switched on today, because I don’t plan on holding your hand through this subject. History,” he said, rolling his sleeves up to reveal his muscular forearms, “isn’t for the faint-hearted.”

[Name] slouched slightly in her seat, dreading every word.

“Attendance first, because I need to know who’s going to make my life a headache this semester.” He began calling out names, marking them on a clipboard with a dramatic flourish.

When he reached [Name]’s name, he looked up briefly, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. “[Name] Sanzuku.”

“Here,” she squeaked, immediately regretting how small her voice sounded.

Chris arched an eyebrow, muttering, “Hm. We’ll see how you hold up.” He continued down the list without further comment, but [Name] felt like she’d already been singled out.

Once attendance was over, Chris set the clipboard aside and turned to the board, picking up a piece of chalk with a theatrical air. “Right. Let’s dive in, shall we? Today’s lecture is about the Battle of Hastings. 1066. A date that should be etched into your memory, unless you’ve been living under a rock.”

He began writing “1066” in large, bold letters on the board, underlining it twice for emphasis. “This wasn’t just any battle, folks. This was the clash that shaped the course of English history. The Normans versus the Anglo-Saxons. William the Conqueror versus Harold Godwinson. A battle for the throne, power, and legacy. Sound dramatic? It bloody was.”

[Name] scribbled in her notebook, her pen moving faster than her brain could keep up. Chris’s lecture was like a freight train—fast, intense, and unforgiving.

“Now, who can tell me,” he said, spinning around to face the class, “why the Normans had an advantage over the Anglo-Saxons? Anyone?” His gaze swept the room.

Several students avoided eye contact, but a boy in the front raised his hand. It was Agi, the teacher’s pet.

“They had cavalry, sir,” Agi answered confidently.

Chris nodded approvingly. “Good man. Yes, the Normans had cavalry. They used it to devastating effect. Meanwhile, the Anglo-Saxons? They were stuck in their bloody shield wall, which—spoiler alert—didn’t end well for them.”

As Chris continued, [Name]’s head started to spin. He was throwing out terms like feudal levies, Housecarls, and flanking maneuvers at breakneck speed.

“Now, what about tactics? Why did Harold’s shield wall eventually break? Anyone?” Chris scanned the room again, his eyes narrowing. “Miss Sanzuku,” he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

[Name] froze, her pen slipping from her hand.

“Yes, you. Enlighten us.”

She stammered, her mind a complete blank. “Uh… um… maybe… because they… uh… weren’t… strong enough?”

The room erupted in a few muffled snickers, and Chris raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Not strong enough? Brilliant deduction. By that logic, they should’ve just hit the gym, eh?” He smirked, leaning against his desk. “The correct answer, for those of you who don’t want to embarrass yourselves like Miss Sanzuku, is that they broke formation to chase after the Norman forces, who were feigning a retreat. A classic bait-and-switch. Schoolboy error, really.”

[Name] wanted to melt into the floor. She buried her face in her hands before letting her forehead hit the desk with a quiet thud. Akira leaned over, whispering, “Don’t let him get to you. He’s just a jerk.”

Chris’s voice boomed again, pulling her back into the present. “Right, moving on! What was the significance of the Bayeux Tapestry in documenting the battle? And don’t you dare say it’s just a bloody rug!”

[Name] groaned internally, her brain already fried. Akira passed her a quick note with a scribbled answer, but she was too mortified to even consider raising her hand again.

For the rest of the lecture, she kept her head down, occasionally sneaking glances at Akira’s notes to make sense of Chris’s rapid-fire explanations. By the time the class ended, her notebook was filled with barely legible scribbles, and her confidence had taken a serious hit.

As Chris dismissed the class with a final, “Next time, come prepared, or don’t come at all,” [Name] sighed deeply, feeling like she’d barely survived a battlefield of her own.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The lunchroom buzzed with the usual chaos of students chattering, laughing, and clattering their trays. [Name], Hitomi, and Ruka sat together at a cozy table by the window, the sunlight streaming in to cast warm patterns on their trays. [Name] slouched in her seat, poking at her rice with her chopsticks, still reeling from her mortifying experience in Mr. Prince’s history class.

"I swear," she groaned, "if history class is a battlefield, then Mr. Prince is a dictator. I fumbled so hard he probably thinks I don’t have a brain in my head." She dramatically rested her forehead on the table, earning a sympathetic pat on the back from Hitomi.

"Don’t be too hard on yourself, [Name]," Hitomi said gently. “Everyone knows he’s a perfectionist and thrives on making people squirm. You’ll get used to his style.”

“Used to it?” [Name] said, sitting up and huffing. “I’d rather not be roasted alive every class.”

Ruka chuckled and gave her an encouraging smile as he leaned back in his chair. “Prince’s class is tough, yeah, but you’ve always been a fast learner. You’ll bounce back. Besides,” he added with a glint of mischief, “if he gives you too much trouble, just let me know. I’ll have a word.”

[Name] rolled her eyes. “No need for the knight-in-shining-armor act, Ruka. I’ve got this.”

“Alright, alright,” Ruka said with a smirk, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But seriously, how were your other classes? Any better than the war zone?”

[Name] sighed but smiled faintly as she thought back to her day. “Lavinho’s class was actually fun—he’s so energetic it’s impossible to hate him. Plus, I met Kira and Gagamaru. They’re… interesting, to say the least.”

“Oh, Kira’s a good guy,” Ruka said. “And Gagamaru—well, he’s definitely one of a kind.”

“Economical Biology wasn’t bad either,” [Name] continued. “Aryu’s in there, and he’s really nice. Also, I helped Isagi a bit, so that was cool.”

“See? Not everything’s doom and gloom,” Hitomi said with a warm smile.

[Name] nodded, though her expression soured slightly as she moved on. “Psychology was okay, I guess. Luna’s a character, though—kind of a mix of strict and smug. But at least the lesson itself wasn’t too bad. I even made some new friends: Tokimitsu and Itsuki. They’re sweet, though Tokimitsu is so nervous he looks like he’s about to faint half the time.”

Hitomi laughed. “He’s like a puppy, isn’t he?”

“Totally,” [Name] said, grinning briefly before her face darkened. “But you know who isn’t sweet? Ryusei Shidou. I can’t stand him.”

The moment she said his name, Ruka spat out his drink so violently that it sprayed across the table, narrowly missing [Name]’s tray. He coughed and thumped his chest as Hitomi frantically handed him a napkin.

“What the hell, Ruka?!” [Name] exclaimed, leaning back to avoid the aftermath of his dramatic reaction.

Ruka wiped his mouth, his expression shifting from shock to outright alarm. “Ryusei Shidou?” he repeated, his voice laced with disbelief. “You have Shidou in your class?!”

“Yeah,” [Name] said slowly, frowning at his over-the-top response. “Why? What’s the big deal?”

Ruka’s jaw tightened, and he looked genuinely worried. “[Name], that guy is bad news. Like, flashing-red-neon-sign bad news. You need to stay far away from him.”

“Trust me, I’m already doing that,” [Name] replied, crossing her arms. “The guy’s a total creep. He threw a paper ball at me during class, asking for my number, and when I ignored him, he cornered me after class trying to impress me. It was pathetic.”

Ruka groaned, running a hand through his hair. “That’s exactly what I was afraid of. Shidou doesn’t take rejection well, and he’s got a reputation for being… unstable.”

“Unstable how?” Hitomi asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

“Let’s just say he’s not above using intimidation or worse to get what he wants,” Ruka said grimly. “He’s obsessive, unpredictable, and has zero boundaries. If he’s got his sights set on you, [Name], you need to be careful.”

[Name] blinked, taken aback by the seriousness in Ruka’s tone. “I mean, yeah, he’s annoying, but he doesn’t scare me. I can handle myself.”

“[Name],” Ruka said firmly, leaning forward, “this isn’t a joke. Shidou is not like the other guys you’ve dealt with. He’s... dangerous. Promise me you’ll avoid him as much as possible.”

Hitomi placed a reassuring hand on [Name]’s shoulder. “He’s right. It’s better to be cautious, especially if someone like Ruka is this worried.”

[Name] hesitated but eventually nodded. “Okay, fine. I’ll keep my distance. Not that I wanted to be near him anyway.”

Ruka relaxed slightly, though the concern in his eyes didn’t fade entirely. “Good. Just... don’t let your guard down, okay? And if he gives you any trouble, you come to me immediately.”

“Got it, Mom,” [Name] said with a teasing smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

Ruka sighed but smiled faintly, ruffling her hair. “Just looking out for you, kiddo. That’s what cousins are for.”

As the tension eased, the trio continued their lunch, though [Name] couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling creeping into the back of her mind. If Ryusei really was as dangerous as Ruka said, she might be in for more trouble than she’d anticipated.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] and Hitomi walked into the business classroom, still buzzing with conversation from lunch. Ruka’s parting warning lingered in their minds, but [Name] brushed it off, eager to get through the day. As they entered the room, [Name]’s eyes scanned the rows of desks—and immediately froze when she spotted a familiar figure sitting near the window.

There, with his cyan hair catching the light and his soft features even more striking than she remembered, was Yo Hiori, her childhood best friend.

“Yo-kun?” [Name] called out, her voice laced with surprise and excitement.

Yo looked up, and the moment their eyes met, his face broke into a warm, delighted smile. “[Name]-chan!” he exclaimed, standing up to greet her. “It’s been forever!”

[Name] hurried over, pulling him into a quick, affectionate hug. “I can’t believe you’re here! Why didn’t you tell me you’d be in this class?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Yo admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “Looks like it worked.”

Hitomi, standing a little to the side, gave a small wave. “You must be Yo Hiori. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Yo nodded politely, offering her a friendly smile. “And you must be Hitomi. [Name]-chan’s mentioned you before too. Nice to finally meet you.”

The trio quickly found seats together near the middle of the room, [Name] insisting on sitting between Yo and Hitomi. As they settled in, Yo turned to [Name], his gaze softening.

“So, how’s your day been so far?” he asked, his tone gentle but filled with genuine curiosity.

[Name] groaned, slumping dramatically in her chair. “Don’t even get me started. History class was a train wreck. Mr. Prince is brutal, and I made a complete fool of myself in front of the entire class.”

Yo frowned, his brows knitting together in concern. “That doesn’t sound like you, [Name]-chan. What happened?”

“I blanked when he called on me,” [Name] admitted with a sigh. “Completely frozen. It was so embarrassing.”

Yo reached over, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it. Everyone has off days. Besides, you’re one of the smartest people I know. You’ll bounce back.”

[Name] smiled at him, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Thanks, Yo-kun. You always know what to say.”

Hitomi, watching the interaction, stifled a knowing smile but decided to steer the conversation. “So, Yo-kun, how have you been? It’s been a while since you two last saw each other, right?”

Yo nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, it’s been a few weeks. But I’ve been good—keeping busy, trying to balance classes and soccer.”

“Still with soccer, huh?” [Name] said, tilting her head. “I thought you’d given up on that.”

Yo hesitated for a moment, his smile faltering slightly. “Yeah, well… let’s just say I’m still figuring things out.”

[Name] noticed the shift in his expression but decided not to press further. Instead, she changed the subject, her tone light and teasing. “Anyway, you’re going to have to help me survive this class. Business isn’t exactly my forte.”

Yo chuckled, the warmth returning to his eyes. “Don’t worry, [Name]-chan. I’ve got your back. Besides, I’m pretty good at simplifying things. It’s like a game—just break it down into steps and focus on the strategy.”

“Leave it to Yo-kun to make business sound like a video game,” [Name] said with a laugh.

As the conversation flowed, Yo couldn’t help but steal glances at [Name], his heart racing every time she smiled or laughed. She looked so radiant, even when she was stressed or annoyed. He’d always admired her confidence, her drive, and her ability to light up a room without even trying.

In his mind, a small but persistent hope lingered: ‘One day, [Name]-chan. One day, I’ll tell you how I feel’

For now, he was content just being by her side, supporting her in any way he could. As the three of them continued talking, the classroom gradually filled with other students, the hum of voices growing louder.

[Name] felt a sense of comfort she hadn’t felt all day. With Yo and Hitomi by her side, maybe business class wouldn’t be so bad after all.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] and Hitomi continued chatting with Yo, the mood light and pleasant as students trickled into the classroom. The sound of shuffling bags and murmured conversations filled the room, creating a lively atmosphere. [Name] glanced up as the door creaked open, catching sight of a boy with bright pink hair and a single braid hanging by his face. His pink eyes flicked around nervously, and the faint glint of sharp teeth peeked through his slightly parted lips.

“Oh! Kurona!” Yo called out, waving to the boy.

Ranze Kurona hesitated for a moment before nodding shyly and making his way to the seat beside Yo.

“Hi, Kurona-kun,” [Name] greeted warmly, her smile genuine. Hitomi joined in with a polite wave.

Ranze blinked at them, his pale cheeks flushing pink. “Ah… hi, hi,” he mumbled, avoiding direct eye contact. “I-I’m Kurona. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!” [Name] chirped. “I’ve heard about you from Yo-kun.”

Ranze’s blush deepened, and he ducked his head, muttering a quiet, “Thank you, thank you,” before quickly focusing on arranging his materials. Yo gave him an encouraging pat on the back, clearly used to his friend’s bashful demeanor.

The door opened again, and this time, a tall figure with spiky orange hair entered. His confident stride and broad shoulders made him stand out immediately. [Name] couldn’t help but notice the contrast between his intense aura and the calm, almost serene expression he wore.

“That’s Rensuke Kunigami,” Yo whispered to the girls. “He’s… let’s just say he’s one of the good guys.”

Kunigami made his way down the rows of desks, his auburn eyes scanning the room before settling on an empty seat near the end of their row. He nodded politely at the others but didn’t engage in conversation, instead pulling out a pen and notebook with quiet focus.

“He seems serious,” Hitomi observed, tilting her head.

“He is,” Yo confirmed. “But he’s also one of the most dependable people you’ll ever meet.”

As they watched Kunigami settle in, the door opened yet again to reveal a towering figure with spiky white hair that seemed to defy gravity. The sheer height of the newcomer made heads turn, and even [Name] had to crane her neck slightly to take him in.

“Whoa,” she muttered under her breath.

“That’s Haru Hayate,” Yo explained softly. “Don’t let his size intimidate you—he’s actually pretty chill.”

Haru moved to the very back of the room, his long legs making the journey seem effortless. He quietly took the seat in the farthest corner, his calm expression never wavering as he observed the room with a relaxed gaze.

“Tall and quiet,” Hitomi said, raising an eyebrow. “Interesting combo.”

“Pretty much sums him up,” Yo agreed with a small chuckle.

The flow of students continued, and soon another figure caught [Name]’s attention—a boy with chin-length dark brown hair and a friendly smile that didn’t quite reach his sharp red eyes. He exuded a confident, almost calculating energy as he strolled in, scanning the room with a casual air.

“Kuon Wataru,” Yo muttered under his breath, his tone noticeably cooler.

“Friend of yours?” [Name] asked, catching the change in his demeanor.

“Not exactly,” Yo replied, his voice low. “Just… keep an eye on him. He’s not as friendly as he looks.”

Kuon took a seat in the front row, pulling out his materials with practiced ease. Despite his outward calm, there was a subtle edge to his movements, as if he were constantly strategizing.

The room continued to fill with familiar and unfamiliar faces, the buzz of conversation growing louder as the start of class approached. [Name] found herself glancing at each new arrival, wondering who they were and what kind of personalities they brought to the table.

As the chatter reached its peak, the door slammed open dramatically, causing several students to jump in their seats. A hush fell over the room as everyone turned to see who had arrived.

“Well, well, well,” a deep, confident voice drawled. “Looks like I’ve got myself quite the audience today.”

[Name]’s heart sank as she realized the professor had arrived.

As the last stragglers settled into their seats, the room hushed once more. The door opened with a calm, deliberate motion, and in walked a tall man who immediately commanded attention without trying. His light hair was tied back with a bandanna, his sharp, owl-like orange eyes scanning the class as though taking in every detail in an instant. He carried himself with a quiet confidence, his presence magnetic and undeniable.

“Good afternoon, class,” he greeted, his voice rich with a thick Italian accent. His tone was polite but firm, a clear indicator that he expected respect and focus. “I am Marc Snuffy, but please call me Mr. Snuffy, your professor for this business course. For some of you, this might be your first exposure to the complexities of business management, and for others, perhaps not. Either way, I assure you—by the end of this semester, you will understand not just how to build a business, but how to sustain it.”

He paused, letting his words sink in as he walked toward the desk at the front of the room. His movements were smooth and deliberate, his gaze steady.

“I believe in strategy,” he continued, folding his hands in front of him. “Not just in business, but in life. There is no point in rushing ahead if you do not know where you are going or why. So, today, we start with the foundations. Stock markets, investments, building a team… all critical components for success.”

Snuffy’s words carried weight, and even [Name] found herself leaning forward slightly, intrigued despite herself. She scribbled down notes as he began to elaborate on the stock market, explaining concepts like supply and demand, market trends, and the importance of understanding risk management.

To her surprise, the lesson wasn’t as overwhelming as she had feared. Snuffy’s calm and patient teaching style made even the most complex topics feel accessible, and his occasional anecdotes from his own career added a personal touch that kept the class engaged.

[Name] felt herself smiling faintly as she wrote down the details of his latest example, feeling confident that she could keep up with this class. For once, she didn’t feel like she was drowning in jargon.

But then, a strange sensation prickled at the back of her neck. The feeling of being watched.

She glanced up briefly, her eyes flicking around the room. To her left, Rensuke Kunigami sat with his notebook open, pen in hand, but his gaze wasn’t on the professor. It was on her.

[Name] blinked, caught off guard by his focused expression. The intensity in his auburn eyes was unsettling, yet there was no malice there—just something unreadable that made her quickly look back at her notes.

‘Maybe he’s zoning out’ she thought, brushing it off.

But the sensation didn’t go away. If anything, it felt stronger. Her heart skipped as she realized someone was also watching her from behind.

She subtly adjusted her posture and turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of Haru Hayate out of the corner of her eye. Despite being seated at the very back, his wide eyes were trained on her, unblinking and calm.

‘What is up with these guys?’ [Name] thought, suppressing the urge to groan. She hastily redirected her attention to Snuffy, who had moved on to discussing business building and team management strategies.

“Remember,” Snuffy said, his voice breaking through her flustered thoughts, “a successful business is like a team. Each member must understand their role and their value. There is no room for selfishness, nor for weakness. A true leader strengthens the individuals around them while keeping the bigger picture in mind.”

[Name] scribbled down the words, her focus returning as Snuffy’s lecture drew her back in. The professor was captivating, his calm demeanor oddly inspiring.

Even so, the awareness of those watchful eyes didn’t fade entirely. She resolved to ignore it, refusing to let herself be distracted. Whatever Kunigami and Haru were thinking, it wasn’t her problem. Right now, all that mattered was understanding Snuffy’s lessons and making it through this class.

As the lecture continued, she found herself gradually relaxing, the flow of information drowning out the unease—at least for the time being.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The break period offered a much-needed reprieve from the whirlwind of classes. After Hitomi excused herself to handle some obligations, [Name] and Yo decided to make their way to the library. The walk there was quiet yet comfortable, the kind of silence shared between old friends who didn’t need to fill the air with constant chatter.

Upon entering the library, the faint smell of old paper and polished wood filled [Name]’s senses. She glanced around, her eyes landing on familiar faces seated at one of the large communal tables near the back. Isagi Yoichi was hunched over a notebook, scribbling away with focused determination. Sitting beside him were two other students she recognized from passing glances—Nanase Nijiro, with his soft purple eyes and country charm, and Meguru Bachira, whose distinct bob-cut hair made him hard to miss.

“Yo-kun, look,” [Name] nudged Yo gently and gestured toward the trio.

“Let’s go say hi,” Yo said with a small smile.

The two approached the table, and as soon as they were in earshot, Yoichi looked up, his serious expression softening into a grin.

“Hey, Hiori, [Name],” Yoichi greeted, leaning back in his chair.

Nijiro turned to them, bowing his head slightly in greeting. “Oh, hello there. You must be [Name]-san. I’ve heard a lot about you from Hiori and Yoichi.”

[Name] returned the smile warmly, bowing back. “It’s nice to meet you, Nanase-san. And Bachira-san, right?”

Meguru grinned brightly, waving his hand dismissively. “Just call me Bachira! Everyone does.”

As introductions concluded, Yo and [Name] took seats at the table, settling into the lively atmosphere. While Yoichi seemed intent on continuing his work, Nijiro and [Name] exchanged pleasantries, discussing the challenges of adapting to college life. Meguru , meanwhile, had taken to doodling little monsters on the corner of his notebook, clearly uninterested in the tasks at hand.

“So,” [Name] began, glancing between them, “what are you all working on?”

“Business stuff,” Yoichi replied without looking up. “I swear, Snuffy-sensei makes everything sound simple, but when you try to apply it, it’s like solving a puzzle with missing pieces.”

Nijiro nodded in agreement, chuckling. “I’m from the countryside, so I didn’t grow up hearing much about things like stocks and management. It’s all new to me.”

“Meh,” Meguru interjected, flipping his pencil. “Who cares about boring stuff like that? Let’s do something fun instead.”

As if on cue, he reached into his bag and pulled out a brightly colored deck of Uno cards, fanning them out like a magician.

“Uno?” [Name] asked, tilting her head.

“Yep! Perfect for blowing off steam,” Meguru declared, already shuffling the deck. “C’mon, everyone, let’s play!”

Despite initial protests from Yoichi, everyone ultimately caved, rearranging themselves around the table for a game.

The game started off lighthearted enough, with everyone chuckling as they slapped down cards and exchanged playful jabs.

“Blue,” Nijiro declared, placing a 4 on the pile.

“Not anymore!” Yo smirked, slapping down a color change card. “Red.”

“Why, Yo-kun?!” [Name] groaned, staring at the red in frustration.

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Yoichi replied with a shrug, putting down a card.

The game quickly escalated into chaos when Meguru gleefully dropped a +4 card onto [Name]’s pile.

“Why do you hate me, Bachira-san?!” she exclaimed, her stack of cards growing taller by the second.

“It’s not hate—it’s strategy,” Meguru teased, flashing his toothy grin.

Nijiro, meanwhile, was struggling with his hand, the deck in front of him resembling a small mountain. “I swear, there’s no red or a single number I can use!” he lamented, flipping through his cards.

The group burst into laughter, the volume earning a sharp glare and a “Shhh!” from the stern librarian across the room. They quieted down momentarily, exchanging sheepish glances before the game resumed.

“Skip!” Meguru announced, gleefully skipping [Name]’s turn for the second time.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re making an enemy out of me.”

“Bring it on, [Name]-chan!”

Yo, meanwhile, played strategically, carefully placing his cards without drawing too much attention. His calm, methodical approach eventually paid off when he announced triumphantly, “Uno!”

The table erupted in chaos as Yoichi, Nijiro, and [Name] desperately tried to stop him, but it was too late. Yo placed his final card, earning him the victory.

“Winner, as always,” Yo said with a rare grin.

“I call a rematch!” Meguru shouted, shuffling the deck with renewed enthusiasm.

“Shhh!” The librarian’s sharp reprimand cut through the air again, her glare enough to silence even Meguru for a moment.

Despite the librarian’s repeated warnings, the break period turned out to be one of the most enjoyable parts of the day. The laughter, camaraderie, and lighthearted competitiveness made [Name] feel at ease, her earlier frustrations melting away.

As the group packed up to leave, [Name] found herself smiling. “Thanks for inviting us to play, Bachira. That was fun.”

“Anytime, [Name]-chan!” he replied with a wink.

Yo walked beside her as they left the library, his hands in his pockets. “It’s nice seeing you laugh like that. You’ve had a rough day.”

[Name] glanced at him, her smile softening. “Yeah… I needed that.”

Unbeknownst to her, Yo’s cheeks tinged slightly pink at her words, his heart skipping a beat. One day, he thought to himself. ‘One day, I’ll tell her how I feel.’

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

✧｡⁠*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!!!

(Also, quick reminder! The person named Luiza Bogdanova is the SAME person I made for the Russian coach in those coaches x reader one shots I made! I didn't have enough staff members to put in for each class, so I had to improvise for making another staff! I hope you like her!)

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

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