First thing's first: I don't own Vampire Knight. D8

Right, so, remember when I used to update like...every other day? How long did that last? Not even a week? xD In my defense, I realize that the worst time of the year for me to write is during summer vacation. When I finally have an obscene amount of time to do whatever I want...my brain apparently chooses to shut down instead. How ironic.

HEY, YOU THERE. YES, YOU: So, for those of you who receive alerts for this story, as well as those of you who already read what I originally had (you know...back when I had two chapters? xD), I CHANGED IT. I mean...I more like...went backwards in the story and it will eventually reach the point that I had left off on before...but, for now, I OBLITERATED those chapters in favor of adding this and stressing some other tidbits. And, go back to read the new prologue if you haven't already done so. Muahaha!

You might recognize this as a scene that was briefly, briefly mentioned in the original version of Aidou's half of the prologue. But, I ripped that out and put it here! Yay, right 8D?

The true reason behind this chapter's existence is actually because while going over my dual prologue, my beta, MarginalMary, mentioned that she would have liked to see this scene written out as the first chapter. And I thought, "Wow, that would be so much to write! Okay, HERE WE GO."

I'm truly grateful for the time and effort she takes to help me improve on my writing and get these chapters perfect. And if someone on this site has not yet seen her work, I highly recommend that you do so :D

Okay. On with the story!

And since the chapter title is a line from a song, the lyrics are from Down by Something Corporate

Closing her eyes, Yuuki sighed softly, reveling in the light breeze flipping strands of her hair playfully and the tiny beads of sweat cooling her feverish brow. The teenage girl barely noticed the waves of students pouring forth from the archway behind her. She merely strolled farther out into the courtyard. Instead of her customary frazzled expression, a wistful smile curled about her lips.

Yuuki's mind wandered briefly, wondering if it was possible to hear some long-forgotten song carefully concealed in the melodious tittering of birds and in the soft rustling of wind-tossed leaves. Glancing at the nearly bare treetops, she thought it just might be possible if she listened close enough. Humming a nonsensical tune, Yuuki tilted her head back still further to watch wispy clouds as they drifted down a lazy path backlit by the setting sun.

After teetering in and out of focus, lulled to distraction by the toneless drone of lectures on DNA replication, appositives, and the angle measures of polygons, Yuuki was now blissfully free in the open air, and she could pretend the stale classroom, her prison fashioned of textbooks for walls and incomprehensible formulae for bars, was nothing more than a bad dream. At least, Yuuki could pretend for – she looked down at her watch – for about twelve more hours.

Taking the time to stretch her arms skyward, loosening each of her stiff, disused muscles, Yuuki relished the autumn splendor that was Cross Academy.

The shedding trees bent willingly as the breeze tussled their vibrant, multihued foliage. It all seemed so joyful. In the wake of dying leaves and then snow covered branches would come the promised blossoming season, bearing fruit and flowers all around the ancient grounds of the academy. Life was happening in cycles all around her.

Tamed, evergreen vines climbed the mason walls of the stone buildings, but they did not overpower the gothic aesthetics of the structures. In opposition, they were completely harmonious. Gardens tended by skillful hired hands – as well as the well-meaning but clumsy hands of the Chairman – were beds of hopeful seeds destined to be spring flowers, soon to open their petals to embrace the sun and bring forth a myriad of colors. The ubiquitous buzz of bees drifted in and out of hearing as they harvested the nectars of late blooming flauna. The grass danced in the oscillating wind. The trees swayed together and apart like lovers on a ballroom floor. The landscape was a courting waltz and a charming show, all in the spirit of the September equinox and the beginning of a new season.

Inhaling in deeply, Yuuki recognized the taste of pine and wet earth that hung in the air so subtlety, almost negligible as they ghosted on the fringes of other scents. The smell of nature permeated the grounds, punctuated by the domesticated shrubbery which grew almost everywhere. To Yuuki, it was a heavenly aroma that washed away her grueling week.

'A perfect evening,' Yuuki thought, the pleasant aroma wafting through her nose.

But, a shrill scream tore across her regrettably short-lived moment of peace, and subsequently, her little moment of contentment died.

Jolted awake from her relaxed musings, Yuuki was cast, unbalanced, into prefect-guardian mode as she sprinted in the direction of the commotion out of instinct. Darting down the cobblestone path that diverged from the main building, it took her mere seconds to realize that the high-pitched scream originated down the left lane of the forked road. As more screams joined with the first, Yuuki quickened her pace to a harried run, ignoring her suddenly forlorn feet as she did so. What had happened this time?

'Right. It's almost twilight,' she realized mournfully, pulling out the silver whistle which was hidden down her shirtfront.

Blowing into the shrill instrument, Yuuki's muscles reflexively contracted in anticipation of another exhausting evening. Her sovereign duty, herding the jostling, pulling, fainting, and fawning Day Class girls into a sad imitation of order, was not likely to end any time soon. Which was more frustrating: keeping up with lessons, homework, and exams or running all night, fighting back fangirls who tried consistently to rent her limb from limb? Fortunately, Yuuki gave up on that quandary, deciding it was irrelevant long ago.

She dove into the heart of the raucous mayhem of black uniforms and bouncing hair to establish some semblance of decorum outside of the Moon Dorm gate. Reaching the imposing doorway with some difficulty, she attempted to clear a path for the Night Class.

"Stay back! Stay back, please!" Yuuki raised her voice, trying to overcome the earsplitting din of her fellows. But, as was the usual response to her never-ending pleas for calm, Yuuki was only ignored. Further, it seemed to the young prefect that their perpetual struggle to reach the lofty objects of their infatuation redoubled rather than abated.

Stretching her arms out in a futile effort to extend them farther than was physically possible, Yuuki channeled all her strength into forcing back the crowd. Internally, she prayed for perseverance and luck. She thought, gritting her teeth, 'Just one more day without being trampled alive, please.'

Feeling more drained than was usual, she absently wondered why her classmates seemed more difficult to handle today. Swarming like adoring moths to a resplendent flame, the girls of the Day Class continued to gather around the gate, heedless of Yuuki's increasing chagrin.

Heaving a muted groan, she reminded herself that this was her job as a prefect: to enforce school protocols and act as the eyes of the Chairman. More importantly, it was her duty as a guardian to keep the annoying moths from harm. The fire was more than a metaphorical danger; the fire, which attracted them so, would burn anyone who ventured too close.

While the work was irritating to say the least and life threatening to say the most, Yuuki knew that her obligation as guardian was a responsibility to the greater good. She shouldered such an arduous burden with pride and for a virtuous purpose. After all, was it not the Chairman's mission to lay a path for peaceful coexistence? Was that goal not the point of Cross Academy? A symbiotic future between vampires and humans was the reward promised for Yuuki's labors and commitment.

However, looking upon the scene impartially, her goal had never felt farther from reach nor her moths less deserving of her protection. 'Ouch, someone just stumped my big toe.' She flinched but stood her ground firmly.

Yuuki allowed herself to escape mentally, choosing instead to reflect upon her first memories: a world painted in stark contrast and symbolic contradiction, a world painted in purest white and most sordid red, and her vampire savior whose gentle eyes were marred in bloody scarlet. Despite those lethal irises, those frightening red eyes, Kuran Kaname had carried her out of that unholy canvas and colored her world with kinder pigments. Kaname gave her a beautiful world, this world of changing seasons and vine-strewn walls; one Yuuki had not imagined possible in the beginning.

Happiness, laughter, and love – Yuuki knew their tints and hues acutely, now; she acknowledged their power in any form. She had felt a vampire's warm hands, offering unending compassion. So, Yuuki was confident that other vampires could be tenderhearted toward humans as well. This was a truth Yuuki believed in wholeheartedly, and she burned for everyone to see the other colors of the vampires, not just blood lusting red.

Yuuki was utterly resolute, standing steady behind Cross Academy and the future that it represented. Yuuki had sworn with a defiant heart that she would never shirk her responsibilities as prefect and guardian.

But, seriously, this was not what she had in mind. Yuuki wished desperately that her job could be easier.

"Today, they seem more out of control than usual…" Even without raising her voice above the crowd, her tone, simple but carefully concealing her derision, was unmistakable to Yuuki's ears. Perking up at the sight of Yori winding a roundabout path to the front, Yuuki felt a grin spread across her face.

"Yori-chan, you decided to come today?"

"Well…" Yori paused to glance down significantly, effectively bringing the prefect's attention to the small stack of books in her friend's arms, "you left class before I had the chance to ask you which notes you need me to photocopy for the next test. Which, need I remind you, is on Monday."

"Er…" Yuuki stalled. Her stomach dropped still lower just thinking about failing another test, and yet, she could not recall anything she had learned in the past week. Certainly that was an ominous omen, warning her of what lay ahead after the weekend?

The assembled Day Class girls attempted to take advantage of the prefect's distraction, harshly elbowing Yuuki in the ribs. Yori frowned and raised a brow at their presumption, irritated by her own indecision. Yori wavered briefly between further badgering her daft friend about the upcoming exam or assisting her hapless friend by hitting the evil mob with the books in her arms. But, this was such an inconvenient time; the established curfew was almost upon the Day Class, and Yori had only a limited amount of time before the library doors were closed to the diurnal students for the weekend. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, somewhat at a loss for what to do.

Yuuki would need the notes today if she planned to spend the next two days catching up on her missed lessons, and the prefect was not known for the innate ability to multitask. Yori mused for a second. Time was of the essence, and Yori needed to copy the correct set of notes in the library with fitting celerity. The insatiable fangirls were distracting her already absentminded friend. How could she obtain a straight answer from Yuuki in such a hectic situation? Yori grimaced at fate's malevolent sense of humor.

"Where is Zero-kun?" Yori asked solicitously, craning her neck to scan the sea of black uniforms for a disapproving silver head. She hoped against hope that Zero's infamous glare could diffuse the chaos. The boy's absence was rather conspicuous as his voice, snapping, scathing, and otherwise petrifying fangirls, was usually hard to miss.

The battered prefect simply groaned in response to her own stupidity. So, that's why the horde of fans was harder to control today. Yuuki had learned long ago that her foster brother was far less motivated than she was and by wholly different reasons than those which compelled her to work so hard, but this was ridiculous, almost unforgivable. Shaking her head, Yuuki unconsciously fingered the bandages around her neck which were becoming a disturbingly consistent accessory. Or, at least, they should have been disturbing, but Yuuki could only feel the resolve, one long since solidified in darkest corners, burning through her veins, through her body from the point where her fingertips touched her throat.

Yes, she knew that Zero had more than valid reasons to hate vampires, so she couldn't hope to do anything about his prejudices. But, he could at least show up on time. Yuuki grumbled to herself, irritated by her solitary workload. She hadn't even realized it was dumped on her alone until now. If Zero was irresponsible and inconsiderate, what did that make her?

"Don't tell me that you hadn't noticed…" Yori replied with a sympathetic but incredulous smile, responding intuitively to the expressions of anger, sadness, and self-depreciation on Yuuki's face. "Somehow, I find it hard to believe that even you would be unable to recognize the difference in atmosphere. It's rather light when his oppressive glower is out of sight."

"Do you two always feel the need to talk behind my back?"

Yuuki had to restrain herself from running into a familiar chest as she spun around, looking for the familiar face which accompanied that aggrieved but resigned voice.

"Zero?" Yuuki stumbled backward, attempting to regain her footing.

"Find some other time to gossip!" The ill-tempered prefect simply jabbed a thumb to the dorm gates behind him, "A couple of girls just tried to scale the damn walls! Pay closer attention, you airhead."

But, his admonishment flew right over Yuuki's head as her cinnamon eyes narrowed, her agitation piquing, a tirade building, itching to spew forth from the tip of her tongue. "Me? What about you? Where have you been?! Slacking off on prefect duties? Honestly, Zero, you can't expect me to do all this work by myself! You could at least be on time and do your job, but no! And what is it with you, coming in all disheveled and grouchy looking? You're like the living dead, the way you drag your feet about."

Yuuki paused as she flicked his nose, pulling his head down by his collar to her height with ruthless intent, "Straighten up like a man and start pulling your weight around here, you zombie!"

Yori watched the exchange with light amusement as Zero rubbed his abused nose in disbelief and offense, but he did not dare to verbally respond to the huffing girl in front of him. Yori really thought that the pair had the whole "bickering siblings" stereotype pegged.

However, although observing Zero as he was soundly rebuked by his pint sized, nominal sister was fascinating, Yori had places to be, and the appearance of the wayward prefect facilitated Yori's much needed speed.

"And," cut in Yori, winking impishly at Yuuki who looked half-crestfallen half-confused by the interruption, "because you were late, your punishment will be to hold back this lovely crowd of hormonal females by yourself while I talk with Yuuki-chan for a bit. She needs a break."

Running a tired hand through his hair, Zero surprised both girls by merely sighing in surrender. He nodded his head once in compliance.

Chewing the inside of her cheek in contemplation but for a moment, Yori puzzled over the ease with which the headstrong boy gave in. On most occasions, Zero would throw a little tantrum, shouting a contemptuous rebuttal. Only after he argued, proving some arcane point that only he truly understood, would he do whatever Yuuki needed him to do. But, Yori had no time to dissect the nuances and anomalies of the adopted siblings' relationship. Not now anyway, as she found herself being pulled along by Yuuki yanking insistently on her sleeve.

Being steered towards a clearing down the path leading from the Moon Dorms, Yori could faintly hear Zero grumble something like, "God help us, if all girls are as insane as those two…" That was mighty rich considering the insanity he was currently holding back by himself.

"Well, which set is it, Yuuki?" Yori cradled the bundle of textbooks and notes higher in one arm, trailing behind as Yuuki marched a meandering path through their classmates.

Yuuki shrugged, stopping at the tree-lined edge of the lawn, just outside of the sea of black uniforms. "Ah? Whatever, I suppose."

"Actually, that would be 'whichever,' but, really Yuuki, attempt to pay attention just this once…" corrected Yori half-heartedly as she placed her pile of schoolwork on the ground beneath a large oak tree. She picked out a select few papers to show Yuuki. Perhaps, Yori could arouse a few splintered memories of their lessons in her friend with the help of a highlighted outline. They had to begin somewhere…

Unfortunately, Yuuki had other interests outside of class work. The prefect tapped her chin thoughtfully, "They're a rowdy bunch, but not completely uncontrollable. At least, he shows up for patrols."

Again, it was not Yori's intention to discuss the finer points of crowd control, but she decided to let Yuuki's mind wander while Yori fished out the desired documents. If Yuuki realized half the confidential things she let slip when thinking aloud, Yori would not know half of what she had discovered about the Night Class.

It may have been unwise of her to assume, but Yori could not help but to speculate on occasions such as these. She knew well the reason why the two prefects kept the Day Class away from their nocturnal equivalents was not entirely to prevent the noisy herd from being a nuisance. Regardless of Yori's angle, some sort of protection and separation seemed necessary to ensure co-existence as well as to preserve the secret of the Night Class. Perhaps Yori was wrong, missing some larger picture, but she doubted that was the case.

She winced as Yuuki sniffed weakly before coughing violently, Yori's own throat itching sympathetically from the sickly sound.

"Are you all right?" asked Yori seriously, touching a hand to the other girl's forehead industriously. "No fever…" Still, Yori sounded unconvinced.

"Don't worry – I'm not sick," Yuuki brushed off the concerned hand. "Even if I was, no cold could possibly keep me down!" Yuuki sneezed.

Only nodding skeptically in response, Yori silently planned to find a bottle of cough medicine the moment she got back to their dorm. She had to bite her tongue to keep from to scolding Yuuki, ordering the girl to let her overstressed body rest – at least, for a day. But alas, that would be a futile conversation, leading down a tortured path to nowhere.

Yori had found out long ago that when the prefect's mind was decided, Yuuki proceeded stubbornly, utterly immovable. Yuuki ran head first into life, even at her own expense. That was just part of her charm.

Apparently, having an outlandishly positive outlook did that to people. And, Yori could only smile wistfully, wishing Yuuki was not so hard to take care of, and watch from the fringes, there just in time to bolster her friend when she went too far – like the time Yuuki tried to dam the masses with a sprained ankle. But more often, Yori produced boxes of tissues when Yuuki fought with her unruly brother or stubbed her toe in clumsy haste.

"Okay, do you remember Sensei mentioning – " Yori was annoyed as the intensified screams of her classmates interrupted her mid-sentence. Really, how was she supposed to hear herself think? How could anyone even organize a coherent thought in the midst of this deafening display of adolescent idiocy? Just the fact that her classmates could generate such absurd exclamations day after day was enough to discourage Yori from frequenting this area. The freakish fangirling was article one on Yori's list of reasons why the Night Class was disturbing. They did nothing more provocative than walk by, and the Day Class girls devolved to a state of ravenous hysteria.

Those damn gates had only opened, and, already, an eruption of vocal cords threatened to rupture Yori's eardrums.

"Good evening, all!"

Yori resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the flirtatious voice. As if that benign greeting, any of the so-called idol's words, held any real value or meaning! Whether they were directed to a single individual or his entire audience, that blue-eyed horror obviously lived to exacerbate the situation. So, Yori had to ask: why did her classmates feel the need to swoon and buzz like intoxicated honeybees whenever he flapped his self-assured tongue?

"How are you all doing today?" Aidou smiled warmly in greeting.

"Fine!" answered the crowd in union as they clamored outside the dorm gates with wide-eyed delight. Yori suddenly felt ill. Perhaps, whatever malady from which Yuuki suffered was contagious.

Smirking to himself, Hanabusa had to confess: he was thoroughly amused by humans. Though most would have considered themselves objectified or exploited, victimized by the leers of hungry female eyes and ludicrous shrieks begging for attention, Hanabusa could not help but enjoy himself fully. He vaguely wondered if he would ever bore of the fawning crowds. He privately thought not.

Regardless of his actions, the humans simply loved him more. Their infatuation was so acute but so baseless, his interaction was rendered almost nonessential. They made it far too easy. His flirtation, his suggestive engagement of them, was merely a game for his personal pleasure. Really, they loved him no matter what he did; they were a game he could not possibly lose.

That, however, was not to say he found no delight in their reactions. If he tilted his head seemingly lost in thought, they sighed in wistful bliss. If he ran a lazy hand through his perfectly coiffed hair, they screamed with reckless abandon. If he threw a playful grin in someone's direction, they all fainted. His efforts were negligible while the responses engendered were nearly violent. The system was positively laughable! Weak, impressionable beings, these humans were. Hanabusa consistently lost himself in merriment as he tested the limits of minimalism. How little could he do to provoke a response? Too bad that they did not realize this was just a meaningless game. Hanabusa dominated the humans with his magnetic charm and manipulated them for his own amusement.

Though pointless and short, his evening audience with the Day Class girls served as a wonderful diversion from the weightier musings which often occupied his mind. And, Hanabusa had to admit that it passed the time quite effectively.

"Would it be too much for you to restrain yourself?" Kain looked at his cousin pointedly before eying an agitated figure standing in the peripheral of his vision. He glanced over to the silver-haired guardian as the boy barked at the crowd of girls, terrifying them into order. "You seem to only create unnecessary work for the prefects."

Hanabusa arced an eloquent eyebrow at his companion, questioning his own sanity. Had those words actually come from Kain's lips? That statement was akin to a defense of the detestable guardians! Hanabusa narrowed is eyes imperceptibly, annoyed at the mere mention of the Cross children. 'Always the peacemaker,' Hanabusa thought, unconsciously protecting Kain from his own ill regard.

Hanabusa was well aware of his cousin's habitual avoidance of confrontation in almost any form. Kain subjugated just about anything and everything potentially volatile. But really, as if troubling either of the prefects was something Hanabusa should take into account. Nevertheless, he humored his cousin.

"It's all in good and innocent fun," shrugged Hanabusa blithely.

"…Yes," Kain agreed slowly, dubiously, "except, to my prodigious knowledge of you, everything begins as innocent fun, then something will inevitably go awry. And, I say that as a heinous understatement."

"So, you are insinuating that even my purest of intents result in undesirable consequences? I applaud your attempt at subtlety, dear cousin, but I see to the truth of the matter," Hanabusa rolled his eyes with obvious sarcasm.

"The path to hell is often paved with good intentions," replied Kain softly. The taller of the two nobles discouraged further argument by facing away in the opposite direction. As was indicative of Hanabusa's attention span, if Kain pretended to ignore him, Hanabusa chose to turn his focus elsewhere. Out of eye contact meant out of mind.

Kain was tempted to remind his younger cousin of the countless instances when Hanabusa's disregard for boundaries ended in creative but ruthless punishments dealt by the intolerant authority figures in their lives – most commonly irate parents and a displeased pureblood. But what good did punishment or reprimand do if Hanabusa never learned from them? Hanabusa stubbornly refused to embrace caution.

No one doubted Kain's love nor his apparently limitless patience for his cousin. But, good lord, nobody should expect him to mind Hanabusa's every move every minute of everyday. He was not a babysitter, a guardian. Was Kain supposed to stand in as Hanabusa's tangible conscience? Surely, Hanabusa had one of his own, did he not? Didn't he?

Just as Kain had predicted, Hanabusa moved on to a new topic, their previous conversation and his cousin's warning completely forgotten. After all, his rash behavior was far from unusual and Kain's censor had been duly noted years ago. Truthfully, his cousin's disapproval, while slightly more meaningful than other's, just did not rank highly on Hanabusa's list of priorities. Classic Kain; classic Hanabusa.

Besides, Kain's unassuming nature rendered any possible dissent virtually void. To disagree with the redhead was nearly impossible because he never gave anyone the chance to argue seriously. Luckily for Hanabusa, Kain's passivity meant he rarely deemed any issue worthy of the effort, necessitating his input. Hanabusa had yet to decide if his cousin was far too intelligent to waste his morally superior high ground on pointless subjects or if he lacked the assertiveness to communicate all he desired in others, much less acquire it.

For a long time, Hanabusa had detected some internal turmoil simmering beneath his friend's unaffected demeanor, and therefore regarded his cousin's most endearing characteristic, his enigmatic introspection, as Kain's greatest flaw. It was all together contrary. Hanabusa, who reveled in disorder and studied chaos, engaged life with zeal and above the condemnation of consequence while his cousin often paid the price equally as Kain was implicitly roped into every one of Hanabusa's foolhardy adventures. It was sad in Hanabusa's eyes, which observed Kain go through the motions on a day-to-day basis. Hanabusa always noticed him, even if Kain was unaware of the depth of Hanabusa's scrutiny or of the love in his discerning blue eyes.

"Oh, they're coming this way…" Yuuki trailed off, once again diverted away from looking over the presented notes.

Yori sighed in frustration, prying the papers from her friend's static hands. Thus far, nothing had jogged a single, useful memory within Yuuki's porous mind. The prefect's mind was a sieve, allowing all relevant information to drain out leaving only a hazy residue. Yori shrugged it off with marked indulgence, deciding her impromptu review session was a lost cause. Getting her best friend to concentrate in the best of circumstances was difficult and thankless; when a certain dark-haired student by the name of Kuran Kaname was within sight, it was impossible. In fact, Yori was surprised Yuuki was able hold a conversation at all, be it a little absent and distracted, after the gates had opened.

"You know what? I'll just copy all of them. You go and help Zero-kun. I'm sure he will never forgive me if he was to be embarrassed by a breech in the ranks or, god forbid, a Night Class student criticizing his methods," allowed Yori with a knowing smile, subtly encouraging the other girl to go where she desired.

"Sorry," replied Yuuki, scratching her head sheepishly as she realized her own inattention. "Thanks, Yori-chan."

A placid smile, slightly crooked and promising future study sessions, was Yori's only reply before the prefect took off in the direction of Kaname.

"Hey, get your ass back in line or else I'll move it for you!" snapped Zero as he followed the group of Night Class students at a definitive distance down the pathway. The small band of girls, who had been brave enough to venture out and into the forefront of the throng, immediately scrambled back into place.

Hanabusa's eyes were drawn to the sudden movement out of habit. Trailing the line of the crowd down to the end of the walkway, he blinked in disbelief as he took in a familiar head of auburn hair. Recognizing the unresponsive girl who continued to refuse his advances, a blank, alien feeling overtook him. Now that he noticed her, how to proceed? Hanabusa mentally vacillated, wondering if it would be effective, though certainly unwise, to approach her or better to just ignore the opportunity presented. He was momentarily torn between his desire to dismiss her as a waste of space and his time and his desire to prove to himself and her that she was just like every other girl: weak and pliable under his influence. Hanabusa firmly rejected the notion that she could be unique or exceptional amongst her peers. And yet…by paying any undue amount of attention to her, by merely considering approaching her, Hanabusa acknowledged a flaw in his rejection. By going to extremes to engage her, Hanabusa confirmed the distinction he hoped to dispute.

As the ensemble of Night Class students drew nearer to Yori's position at the edge of the walkway, the surrounding girls' excitement was peaking at a state of near-hyperventilation. "Typical!" huffed Yori, inwardly mortified and slightly embarrassed. The vampires saw these human girls and surely inferred that all humans must be the same; what a sad representation of her sex!

Paying her loud classmates no particular mind, she blocked out the obnoxious babble and focused on the studious ordering of her notes instead. Yori was almost certain at this point that Yuuki had slept throughout almost every class this week. Even when her friend had seemed physically awake, Yori was convinced that the girl's brain was making up for lost rest by mentally snoozing. At least, that assertion accounted for the dull, insipid looks Yuuki wore during lectures?

Preoccupied with the bundle of papers in her arms and her books on the ground, only a small shove, flimsy and incidental, from a late addition of the mass of fangirls was all it took to send Yori sprawled on ground. She lost her balance, stumbled over the pile of books at her feet, and fell prone on the cold cobblestones.

Her breath was knocked out of her lungs as an unintelligible grunt escaped her lips, somewhere between a cough and a moan. A shock of pain shot up Yori's spine as her back made forceful contact with the stony ground. Her beloved books, now in a state of disarray after being unintentionally kicked, lay about her supine form. One was lodged uncomfortably under her right knee while another jabbed her forearm and elbow. Her notes had flown out of her hand and into the air as she fell backwards. They rained down on her, painfully slow, like a sorry imitation of confetti. As if Yori needed more attention; vengeful notes and outlines, what had Yori ever done to deserve this, but, perhaps, to love them too much!

Hanabusa emerged from his frozen state of indecision and grinned deviously. As was per the usual, impulse, driven by the compulsion to capitalize on an opportunity too good to pass up, forced him to action. He knew this moment as his best chance to charm her. And, no one could possibly question his motives; helping the upended creature was only to be expected of a true gentleman. As for Hanabusa choosing to help this specific girl, who, but maybe Kain, would even think to look beneath the surface? No one would. Just another instance of Idol-senpai being Idol-senpai – playing hero to his fallen "fan."

As was to be expected, fate simply smiled upon him. This occurrence was all together encouraging. Now, to invalidate the girl of her elevation! Hanabusa loped forward gracefully.

Neither he nor Yori noticed the silence that had descended from the moment she fell, nor the relative stillness of their peers since.

Shaking her head to dispel the wave of vertigo, Yori automatically turned her body over to get up on her hands and knees. Inwardly burning with humiliation, she began gathering her things back into a neat pile, one by one, even before her vision fully cleared. Yori refused to look up even as an unknown figure cast her into shadow. Yori made to blink away the instability that clouded her mind, believing that the shadow may be an illusion generated by hitting her head. Yori was left staring stupidly at a hand which held out one of her books to her.

Reaching out unsteadily to take the proffered object, Yori froze as she saw a white sleeve enter her line of vision. She swallowed the words of gratitude which died instantaneously on her tongue. Her eyes continued to rise warily, up the pristine Night Class uniform with a sense of foreboding churning in the pit of her stomach. As Yori's brown eyes came to rest on a pair of clear, blue ones, her only coherent thought registered sluggishly: she must have hit her head much harder than she had originally believed. Distress signals sounded in her abused brain, jarring and disconcerting, as Yori's hand unconsciously shied away from the boy's outstretched one. She winced, regarding his most charming smile with only apprehension.

"You know," Aidou said in a contemplative tone, a good-natured smile on his handsome face, "I have been told women do tend to fall for me, but I am honored that one such as yourself would do so in such an artful manner. Quite literal. Most impressive."

'Um…What?' Yori blinked forcefully, wishing him away. And then, she blinked again, wishing away his tastelessness lest it infect her as well. Was that supposed to be a pick-up line?

Yori felt her mouth contort in distaste as she reeled back physically from his comment. She found herself sort of kneeling, sort of sitting, with a derisive grimace plastered on her face. Her situation was already troublesome, her nerves frayed, and her patience thinning exponentially; everyone's attention was focused on her after falling, but for him to point it out with such an undignified remark! That was unwarranted and unprecedented, and Yori was fittingly offended by him. He spoke of her and to her as if Yori was just another of his fangirls, flattered by his condescension and entranced by his beauty. Surely, he had no idea to whom he was speaking. Who did this Aidou Hanabusa think he was to bandy such demeaning assumptions in her presence, in public, ever?

'Oh, right,' amended Yori. 'He's a damned vampire which means that he has no respect for my kind and exists under the delusion that the world revolves around him.'

Pursing her lips in agitation, Yori snatched her book out of his grasp and conscientiously ignored Aidou's open hand to help her up off the ground. Yori carefully rose under her own power and with much self-satisfaction.

As Yori smoothed out her wrinkled uniform with her free hand, she glared at him between loose tendrils of her chin-length, russet-colored hair. For once, she did not bother to hide any of the emotions coursing through her: discomfiture as the object of her classmates' attention, trepidation under the scrutinizing gazes of the Night Class, irritation at Aidou's flippant slight, but most of all, sheer and absolute contempt for his pompous arrogance.

"Falling" for him – honestly! Yori fancied her black uniform as her testimonial, the single-minded manifestation of her mourning his utter lack of originality.

Modifying her natural inclination to flee any awkward or uncomfortable scene in which she was the main attraction, Yori slowly turned her back on Aidou's expectant gaze and simply walked away at an unfettered pace. One foot in front of the other, repeat. Yori focused solely on her appearance, channeling placid calm and impassive ease. She stymied any seething retort or scathing comment in favor of seeming supremely unperturbed. If she could pretend their encounter was unexceptional, an unmemorable meeting of two passersby, by refusing to reply then it was possible that she could remain an indiscernible blip on the social radar. Regardless of her inner rage, at this point Yori's main focus was self-preservation. She would very much prefer not to deal with the glares and jibes of jealous classmates just because she garnered the unwanted attention of the school idol. How irritating! Another thing to blame him for! Another fault.

Hanabusa could only stare in mild bewilderment as Yuuki's friend stalked off without a word of gratitude for his help or in response to his initiation of pleasant conversation. Hadn't he thrown in a compliment? Or, well, he had said something that was cleverly designed to sound like a compliment from her point of view. In reality, his pronouncement was more of a set of words cleverly strung together with a double meaning. "One such as yourself" – he mocked her dignified bearing and rejection, while attempting to disguise in vague terms that he was actually calling her a shrew. But it had rung like praise, had it not?

Surely, she could not be so insecure that she was unable to accept a flattering remark? Now, she was just being impolite and unappreciative. Hanabusa could have frozen her stiff for her audacity, but restrained from doing so in view of the watchful Day Class and the ever-present Kaname-sama. Still, he could not help but to grumble inaudibly, complaining about the incomprehensible nerve of some people. In Hanabusa's experience, Wakaba Sayori accounted for the entire sum of some people.

"Aidou-kun, I hope you're not losing your golden touch with the ladies," Takuma patted the livid noble sympathetically. Hanabusa simply glowered in response, turning around to glare venomously at his classmate.

Holding his hands up in absolute surrender, Takuma backed away slowly, his actions contrasting greatly with his amiable smile. "Sorry, sorry!"

Hanabusa turned away, his hand twitching as ice laced his fingertips in blind fury. That was not an apology; Takuma was laughing at him, ridiculing him. And, Hanabusa did not have to check to know the rest of his classmates were doing the same. He was so pleased he could be here to amuse them. Hanabusa muttered curses the rest of the way down the path. His dorm-mates afforded him a wide birth.

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