Welcome to Resonance Bang 2016! I've been working on this fic since last year's Resbang, but life got hectic, so it's here now. I got to work with the lovely Peregr1ne and thesockswhowearsfox as my artists who made amazing digital art and music respectively. You can find their works along with all the other participants' either via the ResbangMod on tumblr or the Grigori Wings forum. Cover image is thanks to Pere! Warning for swearing and transphobia (I will have a warning in an upcoming chapter for use of a slur, just a heads-up).
It's finally quiet for a moment. With all the rush to gather his things, all the grunts from heavy lifting, all the showering of praise from his mother, the last few days have left his head spinning and his ears ringing. In all of the excitement, he hadn't been sure whether he should go through with his decision or not. But now, scissors in hand, head clear, and reflection standing before him in the mirror, he knows it's time.
He grabs his silver hair at the shoulders and watches his reflection carefully cut away.
It doesn't feel as drastic of a decision as Soul had originally thought. It's choppy and much shorter than his mother had ever allowed him to cut it before, but it feels right. The first in a long line of choices to make him feel more like… himself.
There are footsteps behind him, and Wes's voice calls out, "Soul, we gotta get going or else we'll miss your-" He appears in the doorway to see traces of silver hair scattered on the hardwood floor. "...flight," he finishes, before stepping closer, Soul turning around to face him.
The younger sibling pulls on a strand of what hair is still attached to his head. "It's that bad, huh…?"
"Nothing I can't fix," Wes replies. He gently takes the scissors from Soul's hand and grabs a comb from the vanity next to them. "It won't be perfect, we just don't have time for that, but I'll try to save it as best I can. Could you sit for me? It'll be easier that way."
Soul does as he is told and watches as his brother works. "Can you… make it more like yours?"
The older brother pauses for a moment. "Mom's not going to be happy. She always loved your long hair."
"Mom's not going to see it, is she? They're both too busy to see me off, right?"
With a sigh and a small smirk, Wes continues trying to fix the mangled remains of Soul's hair. There's a beat of silence before he chuckles. "If I know you, you'll make me take the window seat." Classic subject change. Wes was always good at avoiding uncomfortable topics. "And if I also know you, being stuck like a sardine in a flying can for eight hours is gonna make you sick. You sure you want the aisle?"
Soul hums in affirmation. "I'll be fine. I think."
"All finished. Can we go now? I said it before, we don't want to miss the flight. You can sleep on the plane, but I need you awake long enough to help me with your luggage."
No response. Soul is too busy admiring his brother's handiwork in the mirror. The front frames his face nicely, very much like his older brother's, but the rest still refuses to lay properly despite the shortened length. Maybe that won't ever change, but it doesn't seem to matter. He really starts to believe his new life at the University of Las Vegas will be a good time to start over.
…
Trying to find parking is a nightmare.
Navigating McCarran Airport and loading up Soul's possessions had been the easy part. Slowly following cones, avoiding jaywalkers, and trying to make sense of university volunteers' instructions is the hard part. Soul plays navigator in all this, using the school pamphlet's map as best he can to direct Wes and the rental car toward the Tonopah complex, but map reading has never been his forte. It doesn't help that there is a lot more greenery to distract him than he had anticipated. Between directions, he has to keep reminding himself that they are in Nevada even if it doesn't look like the desert he'd imagined.
The older brother does his best not to swear as the car ahead of them stops abruptly. The responsibility to set a good example doesn't just go away now that Soul is a college student, apparently.
"That looks like the pictures online, doesn't it?" Wes says, pointing to the large, L-shaped building to the left. Soul consults the map and confirms that they are just about there. They wait for a little while as the car ahead of them figures out they've taken a wrong turn and does their best to turn around despite the people around them. A volunteer motions for Wes to drive up to an available spot in front of the building, and he sighs in relief as they finally park.
"Still glad you came with?" the younger asks, throwing on his backpack.
"You think you could have gotten this far on your own?"
Soul smiles softly and opens the door. Outside is a similar chaos to packing back in New Haven. People rushing by with heavy furniture, excited chatter of those who have done their part, the occasional sob from an emotional mother. He feels lost in a sea of excitement, and it takes Wes grabbing his shoulder to bring him back to land.
"I'll buy you lunch once we get your stuff in your room, deal?" he says, popping the trunk of the rental car. "After that, I might get out of your hair and play tourist for a while. Could use a vacation!" He winks at the younger and hands him a box labeled "clothes" before ducking back into the trunk.
Adjusting the box in his hands, Soul turns toward the building and bumps into someone. The box starts to tumble, but not before a thin hand helps grab it. It takes him a moment to register her red shirt as one of the volunteers'. The young woman before him chuckles and rights the box for him.
"You look like you could use some help," she says, tucking a stray strand of black hair behind her ear. He nods, and she turns to Wes, holding out her arms to accept a box of her own.
The older gives a courteous nod. "Well thank you, Miss…"
"Tsubaki," she introduces, taking a box labeled "music" from him. "What room are you in?"
"They told us 223? In Tonopah Center?" Wes sets down a larger box on the cement and slams the trunk closed. "We might need to make a second trip for this one, kinda heavy."
She nods and jerks her head to have them follow her. "So, you must be a music major, huh?" she asks Soul as she passes by him to lead the way. She must have seen the label.
"Undecided, actually," he mutters, trying to keep up. He hopes Wes doesn't catch it. His brother had always had high hopes for his music career.
"You'll have to check out the Music Center. They have plenty of practice rooms if you wanted to play sometime!"
"Thanks…" Labeling the boxes had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now Soul isn't so sure. Hiding from music is going to be a lot harder than he had originally thought.
No words are exchanged on the way up the stark white stairs. The echoey staircase is too full of footsteps and noise from others around them for proper conversation anyway. Tsubaki leads them to the second floor, which she explains is co-ed once they've safely made it through the door into muffled chaos. "You lucked out with a single room as a Freshman," she continues, throwing a smile over her shoulder to Soul. "They're usually reserved for the few upperclassmen we have in the Tonopah Community. You'll have to share a bathroom, of course, but at least that's all you'll have to share!"
The group passes by a small kitchen area, complete with a family in a group hug. The sobs from the new student's siblings and general "good lucks" from her parents makes a lump form in Soul's throat. A large bulletin board catches his eye as he tries to keep up with Tsubaki's long strides. "Would You Rather?" is stuck across the top with two options printed on paper below: "use sandpaper as toilet paper" and "use hot sauce as eye drops." Soul cringes as he notices a clothespin attached to the former. The name "Kilik" is written clearly on it, and even more clothespins are attached at the bottom of the board. Tsubaki or whoever else is an RA for their floor must have put them there. He's tempted to make sure his name is also carefully hand written on one, to confirm that everything is still real, before his brother calls him over to room 223.
Wes ushers him into the room as Tsubaki sets her box down on the bed in the opposite corner of the room. It takes him a moment to really take in his new home for the year: large built-in closet, vanity complete with sink, single bed, desk and chair, TV. He lays the "clothes" box on the desk and haphazardly throws his backpack on the ground nearby. "All this just for me?" he asks in awe.
"Lucky son of a gun," Wes laughs, opening the closet door to take a look. "I had to share my room with a neat freak. He made me sleep closest to the door so I had to make sure my side was clean all the time for guests. I mean, it worked, but it was annoying."
"Well, we'll let you get used to everything, maybe start unpacking. Your… brother, I assume? We'll get that last box," Tsubaki says to Soul as she passes by him.
Soul nods and watches the two leave, already beginning to chat about who knows what. He turns his attention back to the box on the desk and opens it. Most of his "clothes" box consists of towels and other toiletries rather than actual clothes. The actual "clothes" box his mother had packed for him lies tucked in a corner of his closet back home. They may be few, but the clothing he has with him suit him far more, he feels.
He sets aside the stack of clothes on top, grabs a towel and heads for the bathroom. As soon as he opens the door, the one on the opposite side opens, revealing a girl with bright pink hair carrying a laundry bin. He makes a mental note to get a bin of his own.
The girl sets down the basket with an irritated grunt. "Why the hell we have to share bathrooms is beyond me…" she mutters before turning to him. He's seen her fiery eyes in others before her, and he braces for impact. "Look, let's set up some ground rules, 'kay? When I'm in here, I'll lock your door. When you're in here, you lock mine. Got it? The less we see of each other, the better. Not the way I wanted this to go, but it's better than having a full-time roommate." With that, she returns to her room, slamming the door behind her.
"Yeesh, what a grouch," Wes says, leaning on the door frame and causing Soul to nearly jump out of his skin. "Good thing you don't have to see much of her." He falls back into the room towards the large box he and the volunteer had brought in. The younger hangs his towel over the towel rack closest to his door and follows his brother's suit.
Tsubaki is nowhere to be found when Soul returns to his clothes, probably helping other students get settled. He hopes he runs into her again, hopefully not in the same fashion they had run into each other initially. As he moves to set his clothes in the closet, he eyes Wes unboxing his new desktop computer, a sort of going-away present their parents had gotten him. It almost makes up for the fact they didn't really see him off. Almost.
"I'm sure you've guessed my present already. We can pick it up after we get lunch." The older continues setting up the computer as he tries to make conversation. "I know there's an oven down the hall, but I think having your own microwave and fridge fits your hermit lifestyle a little better than a community kitchen."
Wes turns around to give him a cheeky grin, to which Soul replies by giving him the finger, just barely letting a smile cross his own face. Hermit lifestyle is right. He certainly hopes his RAs don't have some sort of open-door rule planned for their floor.
"Well, you've got all weekend to unpack, but only a little while left today to spend with your big brother. Let's get some grub," the older says, slapping his hands on his stomach.
A soft knock comes from the door, and Tsubaki appears in the open doorway. "You'll probably want to lock up your room before you go," she says, tossing a key in Soul's direction. He scrambles to catch it and holds it close to him. "I forgot to drop it off earlier. Enjoy lunch! I'll see you later at the floor meeting!" With that, she disappears once more.
"Floor meeting?" Soul mutters, walking out into the hallway. He spots a neon green poster a little further down the hall that reads "Ain't no party like a floor meeting party 'cause a floor meeting party is mandatory!" followed by when and where details. Wes must see it, too, because it doesn't take long before the older snorts, trying to contain his laughter.
…
Returning to the room pains Soul's stomach, but he's not sure if it's because of Wes' imminent departure or lunch. The older sets up the new microwave on top of the mini fridge and stands back to admire his handiwork.
"This wall looks empty," Wes says, finally breaking the silence. "You should get a bookcase, fill it up with textbooks or whatever. Make this place more yours." He sets his hands on his hips and turns to Soul. "Well… I guess it's time, huh? You too cool to hug your big brother?"
Soul's gaze drops to the floor for only a moment before rushing towards the older and wrapping him in a hug. Wes is still about a head taller than him, so he tucks his head under his brother's chin. There's a hand on the top of his head, another rubbing his back, and it all feels safe and comfortable and familiar, so why does anyone want to grow up and move away and be alone and -
"I'm gonna miss you, you know? Christmas isn't that far away, but I'm still gonna miss you." Wes' grip on him tightens ever so slightly before he pulls back and places his hands on his shoulders. "Don't be a stranger, all right? Call every once in awhile."
Soul nods and Wes's hands drop to his sides. The older gives a small wave and heads for the door. There's a voice in the younger's head, nagging him to say something, anything. "Hey, Wes?" The doorknob is turned but the door doesn't open. "You know… you know I love you, right?"
He smiles. "I love you, too. Don't forget to pick up your ID, and don't miss your floor meeting party." He winks and heads out the door, closing it softly behind him.
And silence. Soul lets his gaze wander around the room again, still not quite believing this is all real. The quiet makes it even harder to believe it isn't just a dream, and he'll wake up with his hair still intact. But then a shriek (of terror or joy, he doesn't know) comes from the hallway as a couple of girls run past his room, and everything feels real again.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and ignores the text from his mother to look at the time. Only ten minutes until the floor meeting. With nothing left to do but either unpack or stare blankly at the wall, Soul decides to head down to Tonopah Lawn as the neon poster had instructed.
The lawn sits in the crook of the buildings that make up the Tonopah Community, and apparently it makes the perfect place for everyone to hold their floor meetings despite the midday sun beating down on them. There are already groups gathered out on the lawn, some of them seated in the grass while others are up playing ice-breaker games. Towards the center of the lawn stands the familiar Tsubaki next to a dark-skinned man with a sign reading "2nd Floor Center". The woman spots him and waves at him with a smile, encouraging him to come over.
"Nice to see you again, Soul!" she greets. He flinches, not recalling ever actually introducing himself. Wes must have done it for him when they brought up the computer. "This is the RA for the boys' side, Kilik."
He nods in greeting, which Soul returns. Kilik turns to Tsubaki and asks, "So, we gonna do the usual 'name, year, major, where you're from' now, or we waiting till everyone gets here?"
"We should probably wait," she concludes. "You know how the first week is. No need to make her repeat the same answers over and over again."
Soul's jaw tightens. He'd been silly to think that just a simple haircut would change everything. Even halfway across the country, nothing has really changed. Of course, it isn't Tsubaki's fault, how could she possibly know without him saying something? But there's still a small ache in his chest.
Little by little, students from his floor join them on the lawn. Soul spots his neighbor's pink hair and does his best to avoid looking in her general direction. Tsubaki's finger bobs a little as she counts heads under her breath. Everyone must be in attendance, because she nods a little to herself and motions for Kilik to drop his sign.
"Welcome! For most of you, this is a welcome back, and for some of you, this is a welcome to your first year at UNLV! Before we start with introductions, I want to remind you of some rules. Ten o' clock starts quiet hours, so be respectful of your neighbors. Please clean up after yourself in the kitchen, and make sure to take out your garbage to the dumpsters at the far end of the hall," she says, gesturing towards said dumpsters.
Kilik takes a step forward and gestures towards the housing complex. "When you get hungry, you can use your meals at the Dining Commons across the street. If you're not into what they're serving, you can go that way," he explains, turning to point across the lawn, "and head towards the Student Union. Never lose your Rebel Card, or else you'll have a hard time getting food or back onto your floor. After today, you'll use your Rebel Card to get into Tonopah after ten, and to get to your floor at any time. Any questions?"
A few shake their heads, even fewer give a "nope". Tsubaki takes some notecards from her pocket and hands one to each of the students. "To introduce ourselves, I need everyone to stand in a circle. We'll each take a turn saying our name, what year and what major we are, where we are from, and read and finish the sentence on your particular card," she explains. "I'll go first! My name is Tsubaki Nakatsukasa. I'm a Junior studying Elementary Education, and I was born in Nagoya, Japan. 'The thing I remember most from high school is'..." Her face screws up in concentration, bottom lip sucked between her teeth. "Probably a tie between moving to Colorado just before starting high school and the Pixar-themed speech our valedictorian gave. So, who's next?"
Slowly, everyone falls into a circle. One by one, they take turns introducing themselves. Soul's neighbor sighs as it comes to her turn. "Kim Diehl, Junior. I'm a Business major from Arizona, and 'my favorite children's book is' The Velveteen Rabbit." Kim scratches the side of her face, clearly embarrassed by her card.
Soul wonders if such a dragon lady could really have a soft spot for children's books or if it just happened to be her favorite long ago. As he contemplates this, his turn finally comes around. He'd been too preoccupied with most everyone's answers to come up with one for himself, but still he greets, "'m Soul Evans, and I'm a Freshman. I'm from Connecticut, and I… haven't quite figured out what I'm studying yet. 'If I were to teach a subject, I would teach'..." The obvious answer is music. Everything leads back to music. But what does he know? What knowledge could he possibly offer to students? "Pass." No matter how hard he tries, there is still a sound of defeat in his answer. He catches Kim looking at him and lowers his gaze to his feet.
He could use a victory today. No matter how small. Instead, the meeting concludes, and the students are free to wander campus, go back to their rooms, whatever their hearts desire. Soul opts to seek refuge in his room. Even if he weren't so much of a hermit, after the day he has had, he wouldn't really feel like socializing.
On his way up to his floor, he passes by faces that will probably become familiar as the year goes on. Familiar, but probably never really known more than another face in the crowd. Nothing has really changed despite all his hoping. Vegas, New Haven, it's all the same. Surrounded by people, and yet he feels lonelier than ever. Part of him tries to reassure him that it's only the first day, that he really does have the whole year to commit these names and faces to memory. The other part of him doesn't want to hear it.
Once in the safety of his room, Soul fiddles with his new computer. Naturally, he isn't connected to the internet when it finally powers up, but he had neglected to ask Tsubaki how exactly to connect it after all of the first-day fuss. The sound of chatter in the hallway discourages him from seeking her out, so he shuts down the computer with a sigh and makes his bed with sheets found in the bottom of his "clothes" box. He hadn't thought to grab food before running upstairs he realizes as he climbs into the bed and tosses the brown striped comforter over his head. Not like he has an appetite anyway.
It's still early, but the world outside his comforter is too loud for him right now, and all he wants is peace and quiet. And so, he sleeps, doing his best to believe that school won't be the death of him.