Author's Note: This story was requested by the lovely peppermenttea on tumblr. This is my first time writing Sweden and Finland, so if there's something I get wrong, or someone is out of character, please let me know in a review! I'm thinking this'll be a three-shot. Enjoy!

All 6623 days of Tino's eighteen-year-old life have been spent in preparation for this moment. Sleepy afternoons and late nights of trying to get perfect scores on his exams have brought him here to this impressive edifice in the middle of Stockholm—his new home for the next four years (maybe more). As his parents unload the car, he takes a minute to be fully present, embracing this momentous, life-changing, soul-wrenching—

"Ahh, damn!" someone screams right before something rams into Tino's chest. He gets tossed backward and lands atop a dewy patch of grass a meter away with a sharp thud. Then, pain explodes throughout his torso and all the way down to his knees.

"Oh, god! Are you okay?"

He blinks his way out of his stunned stupor to realize he's just been hit by a bicycle—a very sturdy and heavy bicycle at that.

"You're alive! Okay, good. What were you thinking—standing in the middle of a busy bike lane like that?" the cyclist asks before pulling him up to his feet, insistent. "Come on, brush it off. Don't want campus security showing up, or it'll be a headache for both of us."

His attacker buzzes back and forth like a fly, constantly hovering and saying words that are a mix between reassuring and chiding. Tino's first day on campus and someone may have already broken his ribs. Of all the possible scenarios he considered about how this day might turn out, this never crossed his mind.

"You're okay, right? I've got someplace I have to be. See you around, maybe!" the person continues before hopping back onto his bicycle and rushing away.

Tino sweeps the dirt off of his jeans and stands up, rocking back and forth a little as he struggles to regain his balance. A moment after it's too late to do so, he considers running after the guy to get his name and report him. Granted, it wouldn't be great to earn the title of campus 'snitch' on his first day in addition to suffering over his sore ribs.

When he returns to the parking lot to join his parents again, he makes the decision to leave out the news about his near-death accident and talks about the sunny weather instead. A small hitch in the day shouldn't have to ruin everything or rain on his excitement. This is an important milestone, and he's going to appreciate it for what it's worth, even if physics is conspiring against him today.

He supposes he should visit his dorm room before bringing his stuff inside. The dorms have recently been renovated, but one wouldn't be able to tell if not for the flyers plastered all over the grounds reading, "Check out our new and improved resident halls!"

Except there's nothing new and improved about them. The walls are painted an ugly shade of green, the elevator takes at least a full ten minutes to arrive, and the lobby perpetually smells of bleach.

Fortunately, once the elevator does come, he is able to find his dorm room with relative ease and makes sure to knock on the door before letting himself in with the key he'd received at student orientation.

He expects the dorm to be empty, seeing as there wasn't a response when he'd knocked earlier, but to his surprise, there is a student—probably two or three years older than him—reading a book in the living area separating the two pint-sized bedrooms they've each been assigned—"suites" as the school likes to graciously refer to them.

Wasting no time in introducing himself, Tino sticks out his hand at the young man and tries to ignore the still throbbing ache in his chest after being pummeled only a short while ago. "Hi, there! My name's Tino, and I guess I'm your new roommate!"

The student lifts his head from his book, revealing a pair of blue eyes hidden behind the thin metal frames of his glasses.

"Freshman?" the boy asks.

"Yup, and I'm still trying to find my way around."

The boy mumbles something, throws his book aside altogether, and says succinctly, "Berwald."

"Uhmm—nice to meet you, Berwald!" Tino replies as brightly as he can, given the circumstances. Oh, no, maybe he shouldn't seem so eager and friendly or Berwald will think he's weird or that there's something wrong with him. Better to play it cool. "You know, I'm a bit relieved, to be totally honest. I thought I might get stuck with some creepy, weird roommate and be really uncomfortable for the rest of the semester."

Berwald, looking completely stone-faced and calm, says, "I am creepy and weird."

Is that a joke? Is he supposed to laugh? Tino can't be sure because the other's boy's face isn't revealing any hint of emotion.

He tries to let out a little, warm laugh, but it ends up sounding like a nervous, girlish giggle even to his own ears. It's silent afterward, since Berwald doesn't try to say anything else, and Tino desperately tries to find a way to either break the ice or disappear so he doesn't have to be subjected to this awkward social situation any longer.

"Well, I'm going to start bringing my things in and unpacking. I'll try not to disturb you," Tino manages to say through a dry mouth and a racing heart. "Talk to you later."

Oh, dear, his roommate could be a serial killer for all he knows! What if he enjoys witchcraft or takes some kind of ultra-psychedelic drugs and offers some to him? There must be a way he can have his roommate changed if he is genuinely fearful for the safety of his life. He'll find the paperwork and do whatever it takes.

He bolts for the stairwell because he can't be bothered with the elevator this time. Once again, he finds his parents and explains the events of the last fifteen minutes to them, quivering with anxiety. Is it too late to go back home and forget about attending university?

He gets scolded for being too quick to judge, and before Tino can formulate a more coherent argument, his parents start whisking his belongings into the dorm on his behalf. Berwald is gone now—probably out to get some lunch for the dining hall (or searching for his next victim).

Without any hurdles to get in the way, Tino gets settled fairly quickly and is forced to say his final goodbyes to his family, even though he wants nothing more than to drop down to his knees and plead with them to take him far, far away from here.

But he doesn't admit his fears and puts a practiced smile on his face, prompting his parents to get into the car and leave.

And now it's just him, this campus, and Berwald, who, thankfully, is still nowhere to be found. There must be some way to get his dorm switched. Tino will take anything. It doesn't matter if the building he's put in is twice as decrepit as this one and is located on the other side of the city, so long as he can live a long life and grow old in peace.

He sits anxiously on his new bed, bouncing each of his legs in turn and grinding his teeth. Berwald's been gone for a long time. What if he's never coming back? Was he so disgusted by the thought of having a freshman shadowing him that he decided to switch dorms himself, saving Tino the trouble?

These hopeful thoughts are shattered the moment Berwald comes trudging back inside, shoulders drawn and terse. Now that Tino sees him standing at his full height, he realizes just how tall the young man is. He must be almost two meters tall, while Tino is fairly puny in comparison.

Berwald's expression also happens to be permanently stern. It's hard to imagine someone like him even being capable of smiling. His glasses make him look five years older, he's dressed in neutral and monotone shades, and Tino wouldn't be surprised to find out that he's more of a robot than a man. Maybe he was a science experiment that went wrong.

"Hi, again," Tino says with a tight smile, and the muscles in his face feel like they're burning.

"Hello."

Even his 'hello' sounds like a death threat.

After a lousy murmur of an explanation, Tino retreats to his bedroom and shuts the door with a resound 'click', one hand resting over his heart. How is he going to sleep tonight? Berwald might slit his throat or smother him with a pillow. He should at least write out a will before heading to bed. That would be the responsible thing to do.

What if he ran an online search on the boy and did a background check to make sure he's not actually a felon. Would that be rude? Would Tino even want to know the truth? Perhaps it's better to be uncertain.

It's going to be a long year.

Why did Tino enroll in a philosophy class that starts at eight in the morning? What an awful idea! After a whole weekend of getting minimal rest due to his phobia toward Berwald, getting up out of his cozy bed on a chilly Monday is the last thing he feels like doing.

Berwald has enough sense to still be asleep. Tino doesn't know when his first class starts, but it's almost certainly at a more rational and reasonable time of day.

Tino takes a quick shower, changes, and half-heartedly tries to eat a bowl of cereal, which proves to be difficult when he's still partially asleep and not fully oriented as to how to tackle his schedule. A cup of coffee would be nice right about now, and he thinks he saw a coffee machine out in the common room earlier, but he's too socially terrified and inept to give it a shot. The dining hall would probably have coffee, but it's likely he won't have enough time to get to class even if he leaves now to get it.

He exits the dorms, checks his schedule again, and tries to figure out which building he's meant to be in. It takes some asking around and stumbling about in the wrong direction until he finally finds his class, which contains fifty other students.

Most of his class is also made up of freshmen, and they look just as frightened and out of place as Tino imagines he must look.

He takes up a seat closer to the front of the lecture hall and pulls out a notebook and pen, trying not to seem too giddy about being in his first university-level course. He's ready to soak up all of the knowledge his professors have to offer. That's what he's here for—to learn.

The professor arrives five minutes late and apologizes before explaining for another minute how ridiculously difficult it is to find a good parking spot on campus. He's a teeny, stout man with a thinning hairline and a sports-watch on his left wrist.

The professor calls everyone's names out for attendance and hands out the syllabus they'll be referencing for the remainder of the semester. He asks if anyone has any questions about the list of coursework or the required readings from the textbook, and when no one offers any inquiries, he jumps straight into the material with a PowerPoint presentation to aid him.

Tino must admit most of the lesson goes over his head. The information is dense, theoretical, and doesn't interest him in the slightest, but this is a required course, and so, he'll just have to find a way to survive. He's more of a hard-science type of person and prefers numbers over abstract ideas and concepts. It doesn't help that the professor keeps them for the entire two hours and doesn't give a short break halfway through.

But somehow, Tino endures and hopes his next class will be more riveting—beginner level biology.

It's definitely more of his forte, and most of the material is stuff he already knows from his previous schooling. He's banking on this being an easy A. There's a two-hour lab followed by another two-hour lecture, but this professor dismisses them early, marking the completion of his first official day of classes.

At two in the afternoon, he heads back to the dorm and resigns himself to needing a nap. Besides going to class, it seems there isn't much else to do other than sleep and complete assignments, much like the rest of his academic experience has been.

Berwald, on the other hand, must still be in class because Tino doesn't run into him again. Good—this give him the perfect chance to catch up on sleep.

He sets an alarm on his phone and falls asleep for a much needed and restorative hour. He wakes feeling energized and far less depressed.

Then, he goes out to get some food and returns to an eerily empty dorm again.

It isn't until six in the evening that Berwald at last comes in, as serious and emotionless as always.

"Long day?" Tino asks, trying to be friendly even though it pains him somewhat.

Berwald grunts affirmatively and murmurs, "You left early. Eight o'clock class?"

"Yes," Tino admits with a timid smile.

"Freshman mistake."

"I know. Better I learned sooner than later, right?"

Berwald shrugs his shoulders and drops his backpack by the couch. "What are you studying?"

"Umm… I don't know yet, but I'm thinking maybe I'll try dentistry."

Is this really happening? Are they having an actual conversation?

"You want to be a dentist?"

"I-I guess so. I'm not sure yet, but that's the only plan I have for now."

Berwald blinks his caustic eyes at him and huffs, "You don't want to be a dentist."

Tino springs upright from his lounged position, taking some offence. "What? How do you know that?"

Berwald grunts and doesn't say anything else to explain. Instead, he throws himself down on the couch (it seems to be his favorite spot) and flips open another book.

Not wanting to let their discussion die so quickly, Tino tries feebly to save it. "So, what are you studying?"

"Linguistics."

"Oh, sounds interesting."

"It's not."

"Then why study it?"

"I like things that are not interesting to the average person," Berwald grunts, crossing one leg over the other casually.

Tino wants to ask him to elaborate, but then there's a knock at the door, sharp and persistent.

"Don't answer," Berwald warns.

"Why not?"

"Because—"

"BERWALD! ARE YOU STILL ALIVE IN THERE, OLD GUY?" someone shouts from the other side of the door, and Tino swears he recognizes that voice from somewhere.

The boy who nearly killed him with his bike!

Tino unlocks the door and lets it swing open, intending to give this visitor an earful as well as a piece of his mind, but he gets stopped when the exuberant boy with wild blond hair comes strutting into the room without waiting for further invitation.

"There you are, Berwald!"

Berwald glares woefully at Tino, looks away and at the rug, and mutters, "What do you want, Mathias?"

"Just wanted to drop by and ask to borrow your phone charger because mine is dead as fuck… Oh, hey! You're that freshman from the other day! How're you?"

Tino squares his shoulders, furrows his brows, crosses his arms, and hopes beyond all hope that he looks intimidating. "Fine, no thanks to you."

"Hey, no hard feelings, okay? We're all friends here—safe space and all that shit, right? I'll make it up to you by inviting you to a party my friend's having later tonight. He's got a studio apartment just ten minutes away from campus if you take the bus. Should be fun!" Mathias appeases, running a hand through his forest of hair. "What do you say?"

"I'll think about it," Tino grumbles.

Berwald looks like he wants to convince him to do otherwise but stops himself at the last moment. He grabs his spare phone charger, tosses it at Mathias, and hisses, "Don't lose it or break it, or else I want a new one."

"Thanks! I'll see you soon," Mathias replies with a shiny grin before sauntering away and closing the door behind himself.

"What do you think, Berwald? Should I go to my first party?" Tino asks.

Berwald grunts and doesn't give a concrete answer, clearly tired of all of this socialization.

"It couldn't hurt, huh?" Tino wonders aloud, and for a moment, he thinks he hears Berwald snort derisively in response—or he could've just been clearing his throat.

One party will be fine, surely. He'll just go to check it out, and if he doesn't like it, he'll come back to the dorm. Sounds reasonable enough.

The novelty of party-going is lost on Tino in the course of a single night. He enters the cramped, musky apartment where two dozen other people are packed—body atop body—and is hit with the pungent smell of vodka and vaporized recreational drugs (many of which he has never heard of).

He doesn't know anyone there aside from Mathias, who acknowledges his presence by muttering, half-drunkenly, "Hey, newbie."

"Hi."

"Hang out and introduce yourself to some people."

And so, that's exactly what Tino does, except he's rather shy at first. He finds his way into a group of three—two girls and a guy, and they manage to talk about their classes for a bit before the girls walk away to dance, slipping out of their high heels along the way.

"Now's your chance," Mathias says, coming up behind him with an intense look in his eyes. "Go and ask one of the girls to dance with you."

Tino's heart nearly stops for a moment. "I-I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm not—," he stops himself. How is he supposed to awkwardly explain to Mathias that he isn't interested in girls? Will he think less of him or laugh? Besides, it's not exactly information he's comfortable sharing in the first place.

Continuing to be oblivious, Mathias chuckles and says, "Nervous, huh? Get yourself a drink and then go up to them. It'll make a difference, you'll see," he promises, shoving a plastic cup filled with some kind of punch into Tino's hands.

No turning back now, right? He came here for the full party experience, and that implies he's going to have to dance with someone by the end of the night.

"I don't know, Mathias…"

"Do what you gotta do. You don't have to go up to them, but think about it like this—whether or not you have a good time tonight all depends on you. If you want to go back to your dorm feeling disappointed, sad, and lonely like Berwald, that's your choice. You can either sulk or get over there and have some fun. What's it gonna be?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Tino mumbles, swirling around the punch in his cup. "All right."

He takes a swig of the drink and coughs violently at how strong it is. It nearly burns his insides as it glides down his chest and settles into his stomach, leaving him feeling unbearably hot and flushed. That said, it does also gives him a strange sense of bravado.

Time to be a normal university student and turn his studious, bland life around for a few hours.

Except, there's one factor he didn't consider. It occurs to him a little too late that perhaps he shouldn't have downed his drink so quickly. Moderation would've left him feeling a little less hazy and allowed him to actually remember the night for what it was. Instead, he only remembers taking a girl by the hand, poorly dancing to a few songs, laughing until it hurt to do so, and then breaking out into a sweat each time he refilled his cup of punch.

Everything past a certain point becomes a hazy image, and eventually, he starts talking nonsensically, and the girl he acquainted himself leaves with a friend. The clock ticks on, and people slowly but surely begin to file out of the apartment.

He tries to walk out on his own two feet, but he stumbles more than once, and a slightly sober Mathias gets them back to campus and sneaks them past security, seeing as being caught under the influence on the school's premises can result in strikes on their academic records.

Mathias deposits him on the doormat to his dorm and staggers away somewhere, abandoning him. This is the second time the young man has tried to kill him.

Tino fumbles for his key, but can't fit it into the lock, and so, he slides down to the ground and leans resignedly against the wall, wondering whether it's possible for him to actually die out here from alcohol poisoning or something equally egregious.

He claws at the door helplessly and groans, nausea bubbling in his gut.

Miraculously, the hallway is filled with the sound of a lock being undone and the door comes creaking open, revealing a disgruntled Berwald.

Tino tries to say hello, but it ends up sounding more like, "Heehhh."

Berwald glares at him from over the rim of his glasses and says, "You drank the punch, didn't you?"

"Mmmm."

"Freshmen," Berwald grumbles with a shake of his head.

And that's when Tino vomits all over Berwald's slippers.