Disclaimer:

I don't own KHR! or the cover picture, though I did color it in.

Byakuran cursed under his breath.

It was late; really, really, really ridiculously late.

He glanced at the clock.

'3:01 A.M.' it blinked innocently back at him.

/Yup. So late that it's early./

The problem here?

The white-haired Ethics and Philosophy major was pulling an all-nighter to finish his essays due in two days, and cram for the midterm tests coming in three days. Unfortunately, he was out of marshmallows.

Yes.

You heard me:

Marshmallows.

As it was, Byakuran Gesso loved the squishy, gooey, chewy, sugary white confections immensely.

(Some acquaintances defined it as an 'obsession' or 'addiction'.)

And if he ran out of his precious, beloved treats, then…

...Well…

...He couldn't concentrate.

Byakuran groaned and buried his face into his arms, his usual smile gone.

/And Sho-chan's staying the night with his mechanic friend to work on their robot project,/ he thought miserably.

Which meant, of course, that his dorm mate was out of the question for a marshmallow run.

So.

He'd just have to do it himself.

Plan in mind and feeling much perkier at the prospect of fluffy marshmallows in his near future, Byakuran jumped up from his chair and hurried out the door with a grin on his face and a skip in his steps.

/The campus store has marshmallows, I remember.../

Omerta University, an international boarding school located in neutral Switzerland, was a very prestigious, exclusive, and large, with a wide variety of students with a wide variety of personalities.

It was something that Fran had appreciated before, because it promised to be interesting, and god knows how much the tealette disliked being bored.

But now?

Now, as a student employee at the Campus Store, working the night shift?

It was just irritating.

(Do you know how many people come at the weirdest hours for the weirdest items and cravings?

Do you really want to know?

Yeah.

I thought not.)

/Like right now,/ Fran mentally commented to herself.

She had been lounging indifferently behind the check-out center, slouched in her seat with the flat of a palm propping up the side of her face, as she perfected her swirls on a piece of printer paper with a calligraphy pen.

Popping in another guava candy into her mouth from her personal bag of them that she always kept under the counter, Fran had looked at the clock on the wall with dull eyes. '3:06 A.M.', she mouthed, and thanked the deities that her shift was over in nine minutes. /My sleeping schedule would be totally messed up if all of my classes weren't in the afternoon./

Then in rushed a blur of white, headed straight for the Snacks section.

/A customer?/ Fran sat up a little straighter, and her eyes cleared a little more. She didn't stop doodling as she observed, however.

It was indeed a customer, she soon decided.

A white-haired, lavender-eyed boy with a spiky purple tattoo on his left cheek.

Who was, apparently, searching for something specific, judging by his purposeful rifling through the shelves.

Searching for something specific and failing to find it, judging by his frantic and panicky motions.

"Hello?" she drawled with an unimpressed gaze from her position, and raised an eyebrow when he jerked slightly in shock. Huh, so he'd been so caught up in looking for this 'something' that he hadn't even noticed her? "What are you looking for?"

"Why do you want to know?" he snapped back defensively.

Fran raised her other eyebrow, and gestured sweepingly over what was visible of her body from where he was standing. The black apron and silver name-tag were pointed out.

"Um, I'm the freaking cashier? It's kinda my job to help customers find what they need so that they can buy it and get the hell out as soon as possible. Especially considering that my shift ends in…" She paused and looked at the clock again. "...seven minutes. So shoot. Whattya need?"

He looked mildly embarrassed at having not seen her uniform before, but answered promptly. "Marshmallows, please."

She snorted. "At 3 in the freaking morning? Ah, well, at least that's better than coming in at midnight and demanding espresso, pineapples, and all the firecrackers in stock for a 'prank'."

As Fran turned to click through the store's database, she muttered, "Stupid smiley baseball idiots."

Then she swiveled her chair back around to face the eagerly expectant boy.

"Sorry," she announced, sounding quite bland and rather insincere in her 'sorry-ness'. Her left shoulder went up and down once in a half-hearted shrug. "We're out of marshmallows. The Disciplinary and Liquidation Committees bought out our entire stock yesterday to go camping and make s'mores. It's three days until the next shipment."

"B-b-but my midterms will be done by that time!" he exclaimed, sounding horrified.

Fran leveled him with a very, very flat stare. "What does that have to do with the marshmallows? And do I really look like I care at all?"

Ignoring her last sentence, he explained in a rush, his words tumbling over themselves even as he drew closer to the check-out desk. "I can't concentrate without my marshmallows! And my Ethics and Philosophy tests need a lot of concentration!"

Another shrug. "Well, I can't help you. The Campus Store is out of marshmallows. Why don't you just go off-campus and buy some more?"

"Er… I've kinda had my off-campus privileges revoked."

"How did that happen? Head of Omerta Kawahira and Sepira don't usually care much about punishments."

"...Stuff happened?"

"Just ask someone to buy them for you, then."

"But then they won't know the correct brand!"

"Then write it down."

"Yes, but then-"

Fran cut off the white-haired boy with another look at the clock. "My shift's over," she declared unceremoniously, and strippd out of the uniform.

"There, I'm not an employee anymore and therefore your problems are not my own."

He drooped and looked so pitifully sad for a moment that she stopped in the process of slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Sighing and running a hand through her shoulder-length, straight teal hair, her fingertips brushing against the apple clip that hid back her bangs, Fran retrieved her bag of candies and held it out to him with an annoyed glare. "Here, try these then. Guava hard candies help me concentrate, and are certainly useful in case of my Graphic Design tests."

She shook the bag slightly, warningly. "Just take the whole thing; that should last you until the marshmallows come. And don't expect me to do this again."

With a surprised expression, he did as ordered and accepted the offering.

Fran took her chance and left out the door before he could say anything in thanks.

Dino, the blond man who had the early morning shift (3:15 A.M. to 8:15 A.M.), tripped as he came into the Campus Store.

For once, it wasn't (entirely) his fault; the freshman girl with the dark blue eye-markings who always had the night shift before him had walked a little too quickly out of the doorway and bumped her bag into his side.

He quailed at her scarily blank-faced look and stayed quiet as he scurried past her, not daring to ask any questions.

Inside, he was confused to find Byakuran Gesso, the infamously sly and cunning genius leader of the Mare Rings, otherwise known as the Omerta faction who called themselves Funeral Wreaths.

(They formerly made up half of the Millefiore faction. Then the Giglio Nero had bowed out of the Millefiore and become their own faction again. For some reason, Byakuran had then disbanded the Millefiore faction and formed his new, current group.)

(The other Omerta factions were the Vongola I, the Vongola X, the Varia, the Arcobaleno, the Shimon, the Giglio Nero, and the Chiavarone. Smaller factions, like the Bovino, Estraneo, Momokyokai, and the like, were often destroyed or absorbed into the larger and stronger factions.)

He was even more confused to find Byakuran as he was staring down at a green sack made out of crinkly shiny paper (which was the same as the candy wrappers he always found in the wastebasket after the night shift girl left).

"Uh, Byakuran? Do you have something to check out?" Dino asked with some measure of apprehension, and wishing fervently that Romario was there with him for moral support.

The Sky Mare Ring blinked, as if emerging from a trance, and gave him a sunny, closed-eyed smile.

For some reason, the clumsy blond felt shivers of dread slip icily down his spine.

"But of course, Dino-kun.~ I do indeed have something that very urgently needs checking out.~" His eyes opened to reveal a piercingly sharp, intent gaze that was bent on getting his way.

"Tell me. What do you know about that girl who was here before you?"

Dino tilted his head, unsure. "Y-you mean the tealette who likes those guava candies? I think I know what her name is..."

And suddenly, as Byakuran's gaze only sharpened, he regretted showing any sort of knowledge about the girl in question.

"You're Frances Amarante Brume, a freshman Graphic Design student from France with straight A's but reported by every teacher as having an 'indifferent' and 'bored' attitude towards their classes and life in general." The white-haired boy recited off the top of his head, beaming brightly down on her.

Fran took a second to mourn her lack of height before replying with a deadpan voice. "And you're apparently a stalker who tracked me down when I was having a peaceful Saturday lunch in the gardens. So?"

He pouted. "Mou, so mean.~ I'm not a stalker, I just wanna be your friend, Francy-chan!~"

"Don't call me that. What are you, Japanese? I don't even know what your name is, you freaking creepy stalker," she pointed out sensibly.

(Some called it being pessimistic and paranoid; she preferred "realistic" and "not naive".)

The boy perked up again, and clapped his hands together. "Ah, that's right, you don't know about the factions yet since you're just a freshman," he remarked cheerfully.

She didn't exactly frown, but her lips did twitch downwards. "Then shouldn't that mean that you aren't supposed to explain

to me what the factions are?'"

"It should," he agreed with the same cheerfulness. "But when have I cared?"

"Well," Fran drawled, "I think I now have a pretty good idea of why you were banned from going off-campus."

He just smiled and continued. "Factions are basically like… groups. Sororities? Fraternities? Eh, families, you could say. Or a gang? They aren't anything bad, of course; Omerta even encourages them. Freshmen are off-limits for recruitment, but after that it's fair game. You can start up a faction, request to join a faction, even just lone it and maybe be scouted. Factions are a sort of support group, and they gain status and certain perks through competitions and points awarded by the Omerta faculty, or simply by shows of power. Missions are sometimes given, too. it's fairly complicated, really, but that's not too important."

The boy paused briefly, and then gave her what normally constituted as a charming grin. Holding out his hand, he reintroduced himself. "Hello.~ I'm Byakuran Gesso, the leader of the Mare Rings Faction!~"

Fran just stared at him, completely ignoring the outstretched fingers. "Um, okay, but what does that have to do with you stalking me and preventing me from eating my lunch on a peaceful Saturday on campus?" She pointedly glanced down at the sandwich on her lap.

Byakuran shrugged and retracted his hand, the smile never faltering. "I just wanted to thank you for the guava candies.~ They really helped me on my essays and midterms. And I wanted to introduce you to the other Mare Rings.~"

At her suspicious look, he hastened to add, "Not recruitment, don't worry. Just introductions and the sort."

She sighed and glanced down at her abandoned lunch again, before standing up and stretching. "Fine, fine. I presume you mean now? Whatever gets you to leave me alone again, I suppose. You owe me lunch, though. And I still only know your name."

He smiled the closed-eyed smile again and led the way to one of the campus cafes, chattering along the way. "Well, that's an easy problem to fix.~ I'm a junior Ethics and Philosophy major, my favorite food is marshmallows, as you could tell, oh, and my dorm-mate is my lovely Sho-chan~..."

Fran just listened and trailed alongside him, internally grieving over the end of her nondescript freshman existence.

A month later, seated at a corner table and nursing a latte, Fran wondered how she'd let this 'whatever-this-was' go so far.

From awkward 'I-really-don't-wanna-be-here' interactions with the Funeral Wreaths and Byakuran…

… to being invited and accepting invitations to study together…

… to willingly tagging along for lunch-and-chats…

… to willingly offering lunch-and-chats.

From strangers…

… to acquaintances…

… to acquaintances she actually wouldn't mind greeting…

… to acquaintances she actually greeted…

… to peers…

… to friends…

… to… close friends?

It was a strange co-existence.

Byakuran would show up in her life at the oddest times and places.

Like popping up at her classes.

Like 'just so happening to stroll by' when she was on-shift.

Like somehow finding her at mealtimes no matter where she went.

Like appearing randomly outside her dorm, in her dorm, in her room, at anytime from midnight to… one minute after midnight.

(Of course, when he woke her up by bending over her face and waving with a smile, she'd kneed him in the balls and then viciously whacked him over the head.

When he asked if it was because she didn't know who it was, Fran replied that she knew very well who it had been.

Then while he went off to sulk and pout and nurse his injuries, she bought and installed the best security system allowed on campus.

Her dorm room was ranked by the famous 'Ranking Star' as #1 most secure in Omerta University.

[Fran personally believed that Fuuta was a creepy stalker, because how else would he know all of these things?

… She still does believe that he is, and stubbornly refuses to change that belief.])

It was kinda inevitable that Byakuran would eventually try to recruit her into the Funeral Wreaths.

What she didn't expect was what would happen while he tried to recruit her.

They were sitting in a small cafe, the same small cafe that Byakuran had first dragged her to, which was apparently on 'Funeral Wreath territory'.

(Since when did factions have 'territories'?

Since forever, as Fran had learned.

She also learned that factions were quite similar to gangs rather than academic study groups.

For starters, there was a lot more competition and fighting of the physical kind rather than the mental kind.

Though, those designated as 'Mists', a.k.a. the Design and Literary Arts students, seemed to focus more on the design competitions and mental warfare.)

Byakuran had been in the middle of his recruitment speech, or as Fran preferred to liken it as, his 'propaganda-spewing spiel'.

"The Mare Rings is a very good option as a faction; one of the best!"

"You know I'm still a freshman, so I can totally report you for trying to 'unfairly get a headstart on faction recruitment', right? Even scouting isn't allowed," she stated flatly between bites of her frozen cheesecake.

(Because frozen cheesecake is awesome and is like a softer ice cream cake and is not a weird food option, thank you very much.)

"But you've only got one more semester to go before you're a sophomore, which means you're almost at recruitment age! And this isn't 'scouting', this is me reminding you of your choices and of the fact that Early Application for factions is opening in two-and-a-half weeks, Francy-chan~."

Fran scowled fiercely at him, eliciting a coo of 'how adorable~, you look like a fluffy animal trying to look intimidating'.

She stabbed downwards on her dessert with perhaps more force than strictly necessary.

Definitely more force than strictly necessary, as the fork tines had bent, requiring her to fetch another utensil.

When she got back to their table, her prize of a metal spoon clutched in her hand, she continued, "I told you to stop calling me that, Byakuran!"

"Yes, yes you did," he agreed amiably, "and I decided not to, Francy-chan~."

Before she could argue the point further, the door to the cafe slammed open, and in staggered a heavily bleeding Zakuro, who was clutching at his side.

Byakuran stood up and sent the other customers in the cafe a sharp look, completely in 'Boss' mode.

Everyone returned to their meals and conversation, and the staff, who were used to such things, tossed a roll of bandages, a bottle of disinfectant and ointment, and a cloth towards their way.

Catching them, she set the items down onto the flat surface of the tabletop.

By that time, Byakuran had supported the redhead and ushered him into a seat.

"So what happened?" Fran asked, mostly indifferent with a touch of curiosity, as she motioned for the white-haired man to lift up Zakuro's shirt so that she could properly wrap the wound and clean off the blood.

She'd been unofficially designated to be the Funeral Wreaths' 'medic' after she'd revealed that she knew how to bind cuts and the like, from having a cousin who had friends that were constantly getting into fights and getting hurt.

As a matter of courtesy, she always asked what had happened, but the Mare Rings had always been tight-lipped about faction affairs, even Byakuran.

Today, Zakuro was probably more worn out than he'd have admitted, which would explain his little slip.

"Fucking Varia bastards… that 'Prince the Ripper' guy's insane with those knives and that creepy laugh of his. What the fuck is up with his tiara and hair, anyway? Rasiel's my second-in-command, but that twin of his is worse, if that's even possible. Who even decided that letting people use weapons in a Storm Duel was okay? Ugh, I didn't get no fucking heads-up about that, anyway," the eternally mood-swingy Funeral Wreath complained, barely wincing as the tealette sprayed the stinging disinfectant on the slashes.

"Zakuro…" Byakuran warned, tightening his grip on his shoulder with a faintly menacing smile. "What did I say about faction affairs in front of non-faction members…?"

Fran had paused.

She looked up at them, one hand clutching a cloth and the other hand holding a strip of bandages.

Usually dulled-with-boredom teal eyes were focused intently on Byakuran's lavender ones.

"Wait, did you just say Varia?"

They were surprised, and then wary.

"What do you know of Varia?" Byakuran questioned. "I thought you were a freshman."

"I am," she rolled her eyes, starting to patch up the wounds again.

Therefore, her eyes were off of Byakuran's when she next said, "I guess I can't be a Mare Ring next year. My cousin's Mammon of Varia, and formerly Viper of Arcobaleno. The reason I came to Omerta was because Mammon wanted me to succeed her as Varia's Mist, so that she could go back to being Viper. The Varia was the friends of my cousin that I mentioned was the reason for my 'medic' skills. Though if it helps any, I dislike the fallen prince as much you apparently do."

"You're Varia!?" They both exclaimed.

Then Zakuro did a double-take.

"Whoah, wait a second, Mammon's a girl? Damnit, I lost that bet to Bluebell, then. Argh, that fucking flat-chested bitch is gonna be so annoying about it…"

Byakuran took it more or less in stride.

"The offer's still on the table," he insisted, his smile contradicting the seriousness in his eyes.

Fran looked up again, seeing the genuine honesty in his face, and a smile of her own ghosted across her lips as the distance between them melted.

"Thanks," she murmured, not sure what she was thanking him for, but nonetheless going ahead with it. "Thanks."

"For taking a chance on you? Always, Francy-chan~!"

And then she was scowling again.

"Don't call me that!"

Thump.

"Ow, ow, no need to get violent and start hitting me with the disinfectant bottle, Francy-chan!"

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thwack.

"The roll of bandages hurts too!"

"Shut up, Byakuran."

(It was a good excuse not to look at him, anyway, and Fran was fairly sure no one noticed the barely-there blush on her face.)

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