I know I should be updating Thinner... But I just recently got into the No. 6 fandom and I can't control my feelings, so I've been writing this on my phone as a drug. Trust me, once I've got this out of my system I will continue to focus all my attention on Thinner, which I know I need to.

This fic actually began its life as a short oneshot... which is now part of the third chapter.

Disclaimer.

[EDIT 14/05/14: Fixed some grammatical mistakes that were really bothering me.]

Love All, Trust A Few, Do Wrong To None

"Hey, Shion," a brunette girl whispers conspiratorially from the desk behind him. "Have you heard about the transfer student?"

"Transfer student?" Violet eyes glance up with mild surprise as their owner swivels around in his seat. "But this is an elite academy. You have to pass all sorts of IQ tests and go through the training programme... Not just anyone can get into this school. Are you sure it's not just some kind of mistake? A rumour?"

Safu's chestnut eyes are gleaming. "I've seen him." Her serious expression morphs into a rare smirk. "He's just as good-looking as the rumours say. Tall, dark and handsome, you know the stereotype. And apparently he's an arts whiz. Music, drama, lit... All that." She huffs. "Not really like us at all."

Shion blinks. He's heard rumours of a transfer student, but not for one moment has he considered it a serious possibility. What kind of person would transfer in halfway through the fourth year?

"Settle down, class," their teacher calls wearily from the front of the spacious room. "I have an important announcement." She waits irritably for silence until she continues. "Tomorrow, we will be welcoming a new student into our class."

The class erupts into raucous noise and gossip, loud 'I told you so's thrown every which way, until the teacher hollers for them to 'shut up'.

A hand shoots into the air. "Miss," she questions eagerly, "Is it a girl?"

She snorts. "It's not like I'm pregnant, geez. No, it's a boy." She shushes the growing noise and answers the bubbling questions before they explode. "He's seventeen, dark hair, tall and rides a motorbike. 'Fraid I don't know anything else. You'll have to ask him yourself tomorrow."

A group of girls in the far corner begin to grumble, but they are quickly cut off by an annoyed rap on the projector screen. "I'm trying to teach a lesson, kids. Save your sad love woes until after class, okay?"

Shion lets out a wispy sigh, rolling onto his side to face the window, where he can see the street lights winking at him through the thin fabric of the curtain. For some reason, he is apprehensive about tomorrow. Is apprehensive the correct word? Perhaps 'nervous' or 'agitated' are better, he thinks to himself.

Whatever the feeling is, it's creating a tight knot in his gut and Shion knows he won't be able to sleep any time soon. He reluctantly pushes the covers off his lanky frame and fumbles for his glasses on the bedside table before plodding downstairs clad only in a plain vest and boxers, making a beeline for the kitchen cupboard above the dishwasher.

He supposes he should be bothered by the chilly spring air, but he is too busy caught up in a web of uncomfortable and anxious thoughts to concentrate on much else besides making himself a steaming hot mug of cocoa.

He swears under his breath. He overslept, and is already twenty minutes behind schedule. There's no way Safu is still waiting to walk to school together - punctuality is one of her strengths - so Shion grabs the handles of his battered bike and flings himself at it. He hurtles down the road at top speed, narrowly avoiding a few crashes, and shoots through the gates at five minutes past nine. Shion isn't quite sure where he abandoned his bike, but by the time he reaches the third floor - where fourth-year classes are situated - he's utterly exhausted.

He hastily turns a corner in a hurry to reach his classroom, but instead of empty corridor, his vision is suddenly full of an ocean of stormy grey and Shion is so drowned in their depths that he loses what little balance he was maintaining and crashes to the ground, bringing a heavy something down with him.

He opens his eyes, but immediately closes them again as they are assaulted by the harsh lighting. He searches the floor for his tinted glasses and puts them back on.

Above him, sitting up and rubbing irritably at their shoulder, is the most beautiful person Shion has ever seen. The messy long hair and feminine features would ordinarily lead Shion to believe they're a woman, but those thoughts are dashed as soon as they proceed to shrug off their oversized biker jacket to inspect the blossoming bruises on their arm, revealing broad shoulders and a distinctly flat chest.

"Fuck's sake," a rich, smooth voice grumbles deeply. The stranger casts an annoyed look at Shion - now also sitting up - but does a graceful double-take as Shion's appearance registers, stormy grey eyes wide and jaw slack.

Shion is used to looks like this. Albinism is rare, after all. He receives lots of looks varying from ones of interest and curiosity to ones of shock and even downright fear.

"Sorry," he murmurs to the beautiful stranger, feeling really rather clumsy and somehow inadequate in front of the man, who by this point is blatantly staring at him.

There's a tense pause, but the man tsks at him and pulls himself up, not bothering to dust off the dirt on his well-worn khakis. Shion remains on the floor in a daze.

Pleasant surprise washes over him as a slender pale hand is offered down to him. It gestures impatiently for him to take it, so he does. The skin is unexpectedly calloused.

Shion pushes himself up, but quickly realises he didn't need to as the stranger's pull is shockingly strong, and Shion feels almost weightless in his hold.

It's not an unpleasant feeling.

"Are you okay?" Shion asks after a moment, noticing the emerging purple and blue marks on the man's arm, which must've taken the brunt of the fall.

The calloused warmth leaves his palm.

"I've had worse." The jacket is shrugged on in a single fluid motion. Shion notices the man's eyes are fixed on Shion's hair and he suddenly feels quite uncomfortable. The silver gaze drifts down to meet lilac, and a dark eyebrow is raised. "Don't you have class?"

Shion's jaw drops and he brings a pale hand up to his face. It's nearly twenty minutes past nine now - he's going to be horribly late no matter how much he hurries, so he resigns himself to his fate and sighs. "Damn."

Thin lips twist into a smirk. "Oh well. What's one class skipped, after all?"

"It's a big deal," Shion protests. "I've never skipped class before - never even been late, either."

"Seriously?" The stranger lets out an amused but somewhat condescensing sort of huff. "Wow, kid, you need to live a little."

Shion frowns. "Kid?" he echoes. "I'm a senior. I'm eighteen."

Now that earns him a look of shock.

"... I thought you were a freshman. Sorry." Though he doesn't sound sorry at all. "You have such a baby face, really." The man laughs. "You must get asked for ID all the time."

Shion huffs and crosses his arms, mildly insulted. Sure, he looks a little young for his age - but surely not a freshman.

"I'm a senior too, actually," the stranger says after a while, out of the blue. He leans his back against the corridor wall. "We might be in the same class."

This catches Shion's attention. "You're the new transfer student, then?" Wow, I thought he was a teacher or something. "What's your name?"

"Nezumi." He exhales. "What about you, kid?"

"I told you, I'm not a kid. I'm older than you, anyway. And it's Shion."

Nezumi smirks. "You're short and you look fifteen. You're still a kid to me. And how do you know how old I am?"

"I'm not short," Shion grumbles. Nezumi's only an inch or two taller. It's nothing, really. "And the teacher told us yesterday in class. I'm not a creep."

"If you say so, kid."

Shion ignores the nickname, and finds himself automatically joining the man, his back to the white wall.

"So why're you transferring so late? You'll barely have six months here before you graduate."

"Got kicked out of my old school. My old man wants me to finish high school, and this was the nearest one."

Violet eyes bulge - for a punctual, obedient, straight-A student like Shion, getting expelled from school is something of a distant fantasy. He silently takes in the scuffed biker jacket, the rough, calloused hands, the faint smell of cigarette smoke... Shion squints at the man's sharp profile and notices a small scar across his eyebrow. Like a boxer's scar. He inhales. Perhaps this man is dangerous.

He pushes the thought to the back of his mind. "What did you do to get expelled?" he inquires with bewilderment.

A glance is cast his way, swirling full of icy dark humour. It sends a cold shiver down Shion's spine.

He doesn't ask any more after that.

They arrive fashionably early for their next class - coincidentally, a class they both take. The teacher bursts into the classroom minutes later in a flurry of papers.

"Oh..." he exclaims at the sight of the unfamiliar face. "You must be Nezumi," he greets kindly as he dumps the stack of disorganised books on his desk. He holds out a gloved hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Nezumi takes the proffered hand politely. "You too, professor."

"Professor," he repeats to himself with a smile as he withdraws behind his desk. "I don't get called that often."

He seemingly only just notices Shion's presence at the side of the classroom, sitting quietly at his desk and staring out of the window. "Ah, Shion. You're early. Isn't the previous lesson still in session?"

"Uh-"

Nezumi smoothly cuts him off. "We were let out of class early so that Shion could show me around a little."

"Oh, I see." The teacher returns to his papers as he rummages through the disarray, seemingly looking for something.

Shion catches Nezumi's eye - the man is smirking again. Shion feels like he should be irritated... but he isn't. Instead, he gestures to the seat in front of him - Safu sits behind him and the seat to his right is occupied, but he knows the seat in front of him is always empty.

He didn't expect Nezumi to comply, but the taller student is somehow gliding across the classroom, and he slips gracefully into the wooden chair. Shion can't help but admire the elegance of every action.

"Do you dance?"

A jet black head looks up from whatever book he was reading - where did he get that from - and turns around, a deadpan expression on his face. "Seriously, Shion? Where the fuck did that come from?"

"I was just asking."

At Shion's straight face, the incredulous expression shifts subtly into one of bemusement. Nezumi says slowly, "Sure, I dance."

A small victory smile blooms on Shion's face. "I knew it."

Nezumi shifts fully around, leaning his uninjured elbow on Shion's desk. He fixes Shion with a narrow stare, as if he's trying to solve a difficult puzzle.

It makes Shion intensely uncomfortable, as if his soul is being utterly bared to those sharp charcoal eyes. He's about to tell the man just that, when the door opens loudly and Nezumi's gaze snaps towards it. The moment is gone, and so is the awkward feeling in Shion's gut.

"Oh hey, Shion's already here," a brown-haired classmate calls from the doorway. Shion can't remember his name.

Two girls follow him inside, hair curled perfectly and held in position by so much hairspray Shion can smell it from across the room. "Eh? Who's that with him?" one asks.

"Maybe it's the transfer student," a lanky student answers casually.

"Yeah, but why's he with Shion?"

More and more students are flooding into the classroom. Nezumi removes his arm from Shion's desk.

"Is that a girl?"

"Do they know each other?"

"Maybe they're friends."

"Maybe they're dating."

"Ha, as if a recluse like Shion could get a girlfriend."

The teacher clears his throat loudly and waves his hands at the raucous class gently. "Sit down, get your books out, everyone..."

When Shion looks up to copy down the lesson heading into his notes from the projector screen, he realises getting stupidly-tall Nezumi to sit directly in front of him might have been a dumb decision.

He leaves class with a horrible strain in his neck.

Shion paces around the tiled floor. If he goes to the canteen to eat lunch like usual, he'll be bombarded with questions about Nezumi. It was difficult enough escaping his classmates as they left the room - some of the single girls were quite persistent. He doesn't want to ruin his lunchbreak with the same experience. Sorry, Safu, he mentally apologises. I'll have to abandon you today.

His mind set, he leaves the bathroom quickly and heads for the roof. Students aren't technically allowed there, but Shion is well-liked by the lunch patrol and so frequently gets away with it.

When he reaches the wide expanse, he is suddenly grateful for his cardigan. The March breeze is unusually chilly.

Shion glances around warily, in case any teachers are around - they have been known to occasionally eat lunch on the roof if the weather permits - but after a few minutes he relaxes as he comes to the conclusion that he is utterly alone.

Wrongly.

Shion freezes in place as a deep voice reaches his ears through the wind.

"Seriously, what the hell?" it grumbles at nothing. "You're such a moron." There is a pause. "No, I'm not dropping your lunch off at school. I'm at school too, in case you've forgotten." Another pause, and Shion realises the person must be on the phone. "Well then don't forget tomorrow. Ask the old man, he's a sap. He might - if you beg like your mutts do."

There's a small click and Shion guesses the phone call is over. He quietly approaches the voice on the other side of the electrical storeroom. When he peeks out from around the corner, he lets out a breath of relief. "Oh, it's you."

"Yeah, it's me," Nezumi replies sullenly from his place slouched on the floor. "You're not very subtle, by the way. I heard you as soon as you opened the access door."

"Real- agh!" Shion tumbles gracelessly to his knees on the concrete beside Nezumi, who fixes him with a very unimpressed look.

"Clumsy," Nezumi comments as he takes a bite out of his rye bread roll.

Shion frowns as he rubs his ankle, which had caught on the base of the wall as he turned. "It's not my fault," he mumbles. "I don't have any depth perception or spacial awareness."

"That's obvious."

Shion furrows his brow in a mixture of pain and annoyance. "No, I mean I literally don't. Vision problems are a side-effect of albinism."

The taller man stills. He swallows his mouthful. "... Oh. That sucks."

Shion shrugs awkwardly. "It's been like this since I was born. I'm used to it."

Nezumi is watching him, apparently listening. His lunch is either forgotten or ignored beside him. "Isn't that why you wear glasses? To improve your vision like any other person?"

"Well yes," Shion says slowly, "but this isn't ordinary short-sightedness and it's very difficult to correct... Even with the glasses, my vision is still a bit out of focus.

"I consider myself lucky though," Shion continues, if only to fill the silence. "Many albinos suffer from nystagmus or strabismus - or can't see at all - which are much worse, in my opinion. At least my vision is workable. Everything's just... blurry."

Nezumi draws a knee up to his chest and rests his cheek on it, facing Shion. "Lucky, huh..." he breathes quietly as he considers the man in front of him. "Most people would complain about it endlessly, or live their lives feeling disgustingly sorry for themselves. Don't you ever resent the life you're living?"

Shion blinks in surprise. "Resent it?" He smiles awkwardly. "No, I couldn't. I go to a wonderful school and I live in a nice house with a stable income and a mother who loves me. What's a bit of inconvenience, really?"

The beaming grin he flashes Nezumi is brighter than a July noon.

"I'm home," Shion says cheerfully as he enters, thought it is unnecessary as Karan is behind the counter, stacking warm bread rolls, and can see him clearly.

"Hello, sweetie. How was your day?"

Shion dumps his bag on the floor with a sigh. He glances up to meet his mother's gaze - she is dusted in a fine layer of flour. "Good, I guess. Exhausting." At her pointed look, he elaborates. "You know the transfer student I mentioned? He arrived today."

"Oh!" she exclaims, hurrying around the counter. "Well this is news. What is he like?"

Shion follows his mother into the back room, which serves as both a dining room and lounge. "He's..." Shion inhales. "Interesting."

A brown eyebrow is raised. "'Interesting'?" she repeats. "I don't think you've ever described anything other than your Ecology class as 'interesting' before." She settles into the worn, cosy loveseat, and Shion follows suit, fresh bread roll in hand.

"Yeah," Shion replies. He rips off a small chunk of the roll absent-mindedly. "I guess I haven't."

"So what about this boy is 'interesting', hm?" At Shion's raised eyebrows, a bright laugh chimes. "I'm interested, Shion. It's not every day you get a transfer student at that school - never mind one you find interesting!"

Shion sighs, and avoids eye contact. "We bumped into each other in the corridor," he mumbles. Why is he so awkward talking about this? "Quite literally, actually."

Karan smiles, nudging him softly in the arm. "That can't have been it, Shion. I know you. What happened? Was it-" She abruptly cuts herself off, and her face drains of colour. "Oh no, nothing bad happened, did it? He wasn't nasty to you, or-"

"No!" Shion interjects with force. "No, Mama, nothing like that happened. It wasn't a bad thing at all, just... out of the ordinary."

Karan fixes him with a concerned gaze nevertheless. "Are you sure? You know, Shion, if anything does happen - if they start bullying you again - or anything else - you can always tell me, okay?"

"I know," Shion reassures her softly. "But everything's been fine recently. I promise."

"Okay," Karan says. She runs a hand lovingly through thick white locks before heaving herself up off the old sofa with a bright smile. "I'll make us some dinner and you can tell me all about him."