A/N: This is a repost of my fanfic based on my friend Nicole's idea from AO3. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1

Don't Let the Bad Boy In

It happened in a string of events, and there was a pattern Shiro no longer could ignore after the second body was found.

His classmates (now become students, as he was now a senior officer) have been…vanishing, then several days after their vanishing, their disembodied bodies would be found somewhere on the outskirts of town. Many people have already begun to avoid him for the sake of saving their necks, and he honestly couldn't blame them for that, either. He would start avoiding him, too, if interacting with him want that they would probably end up dead.

Many people have even begun to suspect that he was the one behind the disappearances and the sickening, brutal, slow deaths that the victims had experienced, but how could he have the heart (or lack thereof) to do something as dastardly as the person going on this killing spree? He couldn't imagine why anyone would believe that he would be the reason behind this, but they had every reason to suspect it, as well. They weren't psychics; they saw what they wanted to see, and what they saw in front of them was a lot of valid evidence that he could have been the killer of these innocent students—his own innocent students.

He wasn't sure what to expect for the next several months. From what he could remember, it started happening shortly after he became acquainted with Homura Akira, the local, intimidating recluse. He hardly interacted with anyone else at the Garrison, and most people chose to stay away from him, anyway; he didn't seem to be the very amiable type from the start. He was a very brilliant student himself, at the top of his class. In a way, it reminded Shiro a bit of himself.

This happened shortly before he became a senior officer at the Garrison. He and his friends were observing Akira from a distance, sympathizing with him and wondering what could be done about how lonely the boy appeared to be. He always remained in the shadows, not daring to step out of it, but Shiro ultimately took initiative and invited him to come sit with him and his friends.

Akira begrudgingly accepted the offer, almost appearing rather charmed that several people were thinking about him, even piping in at times during the conversation if the topic caught his interests. Shiro was even kind enough to invite him to a New Years' party he was organizing over Christmas break because he couldn't bear to see someone as charming as Akira was to be alone. He gave him his street address, wishing him well and hoping he would be there at the designated time.

He then observed Akira's expression upon the offer. It seemed cold and distant. It was almost as if he was still trying to register that someone had been nice enough to even invite him to a huge party. After a short period of time, Akira eventually nodded, accepting the invitation.

Unfortunately, Akira ended up not attending the party.

Akira did seem to open up to specifically him after that, though; even overcompensating for the fact that he didn't attend the New Years' party (stating that he wasn't very keen on them), but that was when things got…strange.

The first person to disappear was a close friend of Shiro's. Her name was Phoibe Schulze. She was the Garrison Sweetheart, and everyone loved her so much. Her death was a tragic thing to happen to the school, and what the strange thing was, which was something nearly everyone noticed, was the last person she was seen with was Shiro himself.

And while he couldn't blame them for suddenly becoming wary about being around him, he knew that he had absolutely nothing to do with the murder.

Her body turned up in the outskirts of town, near the river, actually, completely disembodied and it was the most horrific sight her parents—and the rest of the town—have ever had to witness.

He would hate having to remember her daughter like that for the rest of their lives.

The second person to disappear was just an acquaintance of his, who appeared to have had a crush on him.

His name was Vittore Travers.

There was nothing particularly special about the guy, but he was pretty smart himself otherwise he would not have been enrolled into the Garrison. There was nothing about him that really stood out, though, apart from his very blatant crush on Shiro, and he was also the neighborhood flirtatious little thing. It was natural for him to flirt with anything that moves, but when he flirted with Shiro, dear God, it was on a whole other level! His friends (who were still alive) liked to point it out and tease him about it, but he shrugged it off and assured them that they wouldn't go beyond an acquaintanceship—especially since he didn't feel anything toward Travers.

He disappeared a day or so after another day which he tried to flirt and get Shiro into bed with him, and his body was found again in the outskirts of town completely disembodied.

Everyone was starting to make connections to the murders with Shiro after that.

But that wasn't even the real alarm. The real alarm was when Shiro's childhood best friend Matthew Holt vanished, only to return almost too terrified to tell anyone of what happened and avoided Shiro like he would catch the plague if he had. Shiro was heartbroken after that, because he cared for Matthew more than anyone else in his entire life (other than his family, of course), and it pained him to see his friend so terrified.

He was surprised he came out alive from that murderous creature that was out to get anyone who dared to go near Shiro.

Shiro definitely wanted to get to the bottom of this, but he had no place to start. No one was going to help him.

Sure, some have sympathized with him, but some have completely shunned him out of their friend groups, fearing for their own lives if they associated with him. They all rightfully believed that he had a connection to all of the killings.

Shiro may as well have gone from the Garrison's Golden Boy to the Garrison's Outrageous Outcast.

It wasn't fair to him, but what more could he do about it? At the very least, he could confide in Akira, who still seemed to be more than okay with hanging around him…which immediately made him raise an eyebrow.

He threw all caution to the wind if he was still hanging out with Shiro after everyone else had abandoned him. And by hanging out, he meant that Akira enjoyed observing him from the distance. He thought to confront him about it, but he also thought it was better not to interact with anyone else, because he didn't want to put Akira in danger, too.

Unless, Akira wasn't in danger from this threat to anyone near and dear to Shiro at all…

He was so lost in his musing over the recent events that he didn't realize that Akira was actually standing right in front of him, in the middle of the hallway. The other students were scrambling to get to their classes, ignoring the two of them. Akira was always ignored by the vast majority and for Shiro it had been, again, fairly recent. He was glad he was able to zoom back into real life to catch himself before he literally ran into the younger cadet.

"Ah, u-um," he began, trying to regain his composure and seem more professional. "Homura, don't you have class to be attending to?"

"I'm on my free period, sir. I was just leaving."

"Ah…" he replied, unsure of how else to respond. He should really get going. The sooner he left, the more safe Akira would be from the likes of that serial killer on the lose in this town. "Is there something you need? You've been standing here for quite a while."

"Yes, actually," he said, his eyes widening with some concern. "You just seemed a little out of it. Do you need to talk about it?"

"No. I think…I'll be fine. If you'll excuse me," he finally found an opportunity to scurry off to the instructor's lounge. He was, too, on is free period which was why he was roaming the hallways aimlessly while lamenting over the fact that he couldn't get close to anyone for fear of putting any of his students in danger…

Though, he felt bad to leave a confused Akira in his dust.

Perhaps he should apologize later, though.

The instructors' lounge was Shiro's safe haven. He felt at the most peace there—almost as if nothing there could touch him. Even the other instructors kept their distance from Shiro, knowing of the rumors of him having a connection to the deaths of the two students, and again, he really couldn't blame them from wanting to keep their distance, too. Though, sometimes a conversation between them couldn't be helped when they had to discuss necessary things such as future lecture plans.

He had to discuss those in the board meetings.

One brave soul managed to approach him. Vasilka McClellan, she was one of the older instructors here and far, far more experienced in piloting than anyone else here—and definitely more experienced than he was.

"Shirogane," she addressed him, catching his attention immediately. Nobody really used his full first name as it was common in his culture to only use his first name if they felt close enough to him, whether in a familial or a platonic or even a romantic way. He was grateful that they respected that tradition in Japanese culture.

"McClellan," he responded with a charming smile that would make even the iciest heart melt. Shirogane Takashi was always known to be quite the charmer himself, and he was very much loved by the entire campus before all of the killings began. "Is there something troubling you?"

"Yes, well," she began tentatively, fumbling with her speech already. "I just wanted to speak for the rest of us, since no one here other than has the balls to do it. We're here for you, Shiro. We're not going to let this…psychopath get near you, even at the cost of our own lives."

"Don't say things like that," Shiro remarked, concern growing in his eyes. "You don't have to risk your lives for me. This thing is out for me and those he thinks is close to me—and I don't want him to suspect any relation between us, any of us."

"Shiro, you don't have to protect us. We just want to tell you that we're here. We're not ignoring you on purpose. We're just scared for our lives ourselves and you can't blame any of us for avoiding you for sometime, and especially not your friend Matthew either."

"Of course I don't blame any of you. How could I?"

"Well…Shiro, we…"

Before she could continue, someone was rapping at the door. There were several more before one of the instructors went over to answer it.

Then the instructor who answered it took a few steps back, taken by surprise at who was at the door. The FBI agents flashed their IDs and Shiro heard his name being called. The man pointed to his desk which was at the far corner of the room, and they walked over to greet him.

"Shirogane Takashi?" the female FBI agent asked as she showed him her ID. Shiro nodded, confirming that he was the one they were looking for—for whatever reason. "We're with the FBI. I'd like you to come with us. You'll be taken in for some questioning concerning the deaths of Phoibe Schulze and Vittore Travers, as well as Matthew Holt's kidnapping."

"Questioning? But I…I had nothing to do with any of it."

"But we have reason to suspect that you have a connection to the killings, as they were all close to you in some way, shape, or form, correct?"

"Yes, you are correct, but that doesn't mean that I'm the one responsible for their deaths."

"That's not why we're here for you, Shirogane."

"Then why are you here?"

"We just stated that we want you in for questioning—nothing more, nothing less. After you humor us by answering them, then you'll be free to leave."

Shiro looked down for a moment, mulling over what the worst case scenario would be if he went with the two FBI agents. He decided that he may as well prove that he was innocent, so that the students who had suspicions about him being involved in any of these crimes would no longer be valid. He wanted to prove his innocence, so yeah, he was going to humor these guys if that was what it took.

Letting out a drawn out sigh, he allowed himself to be taken in.

It didn't take them long to arrive at the station since it wasn't too far away from the Garrison, and Shiro was already inside the interrogation room awaiting the interrogator. He did ask that he return to the Garrison sooner rather than later because he didn't have anyone to cover his next lecture—but they assured him that they had asked the other instructors over there that they would take care of finding him a temporary substitute.

It wasn't until a few moments that the interrogator came through the door.

"Hello. 'Shiro' is what you preferred to be called, yes?"

"Yes," he replied bluntly. He just wanted to get this over with and wanted to get past any casual talk. This was far from casual, after all—they were about to figure out whether or not he was innocent in these crimes.

"I'm sure you understand why you're here."

"Yes."

"What can you tell us about the people who were killed?"

"They were both wonderful people who didn't deserve it, and I had absolutely nothing to do with it."

He wasn't sure why he kept repeating himself. A part of him believed it was merely because he was still in shock that he had to go through this process to begin with, and another part of him knew that if he kept this up, the FBI would start to suspect him even more for these crimes.

And God, he really did start to feel like he was part of a procedural crime show and he wasn't liking the direction it was going in. He needed to stop defending himself and he had to answer the questions. The sooner he got this over with, though, the better.

"We understand." Shiro wasn't sure if the FBI agent was lying. "We just want you to answer a couple of questions for us concerning these students. We know that you have a connection to each of them, no matter how minor, and we want to get to the bottom of these crimes just as badly as you do."

"Very well," he said, after mulling over all of his choices and deciding that this really couldn't have been worse than it already was. This would put a dent on his career for sure, until this was cleared up. "Start with your questions. I'll answer them the best that I can."

The interrogation, overall, went very smoothly. Most of the questions asked were personality-related as well as his whereabouts during the scenes of each crime. Most of the typical stuff, which made it more and more like a procedural crime drama and that drove him almost up the wall that most interrogations really worked like this. He was soon dismissed and returned to the Garrison thanks to one of the agents who was kind enough to drive him back there. Shiro really, really wasn't looking forward to all of the pitying stares he was going to receive from his fellow faculty as well as his cadets.

He wasn't sure if he could bear this kind of attention any longer. This was starting to get outrageous. And he really wanted this to be over more than anyone else in this entire school since it was clear that he was being the one who was the most affected by it. He deserved a break for once. All he wanted was a way to escape from all of this. He wished he could get out of this.

He really, really wanted—

"Welcome back, Officer Shiro," greeted Akira upon Shiro walking through the doors of the Garrison.

Stunned, Shiro nearly tripped over his feet. Akira was waiting for him to return from the station? While that was…flattering, he couldn't help get a rather creepy crawly feeling from that fact.

Something about Akira's overall character was unsettling, though.

"Yes. Thank you, Homura," he replied with a smile. "You're not afraid to be around me?"

"No, I think these people should get over themselves. You don't deserve to be isolated for something that's not in your control or even involves you."

But that's the thing, Homura. Most of these crimes do involve me, he thought to himself, but not daring to speak of it out loud otherwise that would cause him more isolation than he was already dealing with from both his colleagues and from his students. This really, really wasn't fair to him and he wasn't sure what more he could do.

"Thank you for being concerned about me, Homura. If you'll excuse me."

With that, he scurried back over to the instructor's lounge. Someone was covering his lecture and he honestly didn't feel like being around the cadets at the moment. He really needed the time to himself—and he was glad that most would be considerate of his situation. Someone was out to get people he was close to, and perhaps he was the main target. He needed to watch after himself for the next several days, and he had to be especially considerate of his own safety—at the expensive of his social life.

It was a shame, really. Before all of this, being the Garrison's Golden Boy was something like a dream. Many people wanted to be around him and many people wished to be as popular and as well-liked as he was. But now with these string of murders, suddenly, everyone didn't want to be around him, and it saddened him greatly. He hated to repeat himself, but he didn't want to blame them for anything because they were doing what he was doing by watching out for themselves. To hold that against them would be extremely hypocritical—and Shiro liked to believe that he was far from a hypocrite.

Once he made it to the instructors' lounge, he sank in his desk, drowning himself in paperwork and avoiding contact with anyone around him. He didn't even bother to look up to find that people were whispering amongst themselves, clearly concerned for his wellbeing, as what McClellan told him. He wanted to assure everyone that he was going to be all right, but he didn't want to feed them lies, either.

This overall situation was just not what he had hoped for. No one would wish this upon their worst enemies—and he especially wouldn't want to wish this on anyone, either. He wondered what else could go wrong with this day. But could anything make this day any worse than it was?

He also should know better than to jinx this.

The day got worse.

Well, he should have expected that his car would not start for him when all he wanted to do was go home and lament about how everyone was leaving him alone for the sake of saving their own necks and about how lonely he had gotten. He let out a cry of frustration. Conveniently, no one else was in the parking lot at the moment, but even if there was, he had nothing to worry about. Everyone was avoiding him like they would catch the plague.

It really, really wasn't fair.

God fucking dammit. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Call Triple A? Wait here and hope for the best? He doubted anyone was around who would be willing to give him a ride. Nobody wanted to be seen with him.

Sighing, he turned around, contemplating over his own suggestions. Before he knew it, though, something caught him off-guard.

Akira was standing in the middle of the parking lot. What was he, insane? Something about the entire ordeal was already unsettling—not anyone would just stand in the middle of the road like that, observing someone they probably admired from afar out in the open. Plus, a car could pull out at any given moment.

This man really was insane!

Shiro decided to call out to him. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to want to answer. And in a blink of an eye, Akira suddenly…vanished. Almost into thin air! (Not to go along with cliches, or anything of the sort, but exactly how else would he be able to describe it?)

"Akira!" he called again, his eyes shifting left and right in search of the young cadet. When he figured the coast was cleared and thought that Akira might have just ran off someplace after being discovered (honestly, it was pretty easy to see him), he turned around back to face to his car and let his guard down for a moment.

Only for a moment.

And in that moment, he felt his body being yanked backward, felt a hard pressure on his neck, and a cloth which smelled of Chloroform was stuffed into his mouth.

Within seconds, he blanked out.

He wasn't sure where he was—or how he got there in the first place.

It took him several moments to reorient himself after being passed out for so long. He found himself on an old, rickety bench-like couch in what appeared to be the main living area of the place he was in.

Once his eyes fully adjusted, he began to scan his surroundings. He appeared to be in an old, dilapidated cabin. The walls were aligned with wood—mahogany, if he was correct. The space was relatively quaint and was almost barren of anything which would express the dweller's overall personality. It was almost a shame. Most people would like to personalize their home, especially if they were living alone. A home was meant to be someone's safe haven (not unless they happened to be in an abusive household). A home was meant to be filled with happiness for those living in it. This was…sad. Everything about this place seemed sad. And there was also something else about the house that gave him a sense of dread, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was about the cabin that unsettled him.

He looked out the window which was on the far side from where he was sitting, and he noticed it was starting to get dark outside already. He looked somewhere for a clock and found none. He darted his head in all places for his tote bag, and found it was taken from him.

Well, that was just great.

God, it was really starting to get darker! Was there a lamp around here? Shiro looked to the left.

There was one, thankfully.

He observed the work on it and realized it must have been stitched together by the person who made it for him. Though, the material was none he had ever seen before. It was rather thick and smelled of old people, which kind of threw him off when he switched it on. The way the light illuminated reminded him of the way the sunlight would brighten up his own skin.

"I see you've woken up," a voice caught Shiro's attention, and his head shot toward the direction of which it came from. He was…needless to say, shocked to see that it was Akira.

"Yes," he replied with a fleetingly nervous smile. "Can you tell me why I'm here and how I got here?"

"I brought you here."

"Well, that answers the second question."

"You're here to be protected. I don't want the feds to take you away."

"'Take me away?'" he parroted, unsure of how to really respond to that idea. He had always known that Akira had a soft spot for him, but he didn't think he would go as far as taking him all the way to his house. Honestly, a part of it was flattering, and another part of it…wasn't so much, because he would much rather be in his own apartment.

"I overheard everything they were talking about before they took you in for interrogation. They were going to take you away, and I can't have that with you. You need to stay with me."

"Stay with you?"

Now this was getting really, really weird.

"Yes," he responded, rather to the point, at that. He was never a man of a lot of words…

"I see," he responded. His first instinct was to dash out the door, but like Hell that would work. Something told him that Akira probably booby trapped every area of the house and he probably couldn't even navigate without his guidance. But perhaps he was just overreacting.

Maybe being around Akira wouldn't be so bad.

"Hey, it's going to be okay."

His words caught Shiro's attention yet again.

"I'm going to take good care of you. I promise I won't let anyone get to you—especially not the feds. They're not going to find us for as long as we're here together."

"I, uh, really appreciate it, Akira." He then spared the lamp a second glance. "Nice lamp. Did you make it?"

"Yes."

"Nice workmanship."

"Thank you."

His curiosity got the best of him, and he probably was going to regret this: "What's it made out of, anyway?"

Akira froze for a moment, before automatically responded: "…Sheep leather."

"Ah," he replied, not even taking note of Akira's sudden change in demeanor. "I've never felt sheep leather before. No wonder I couldn't recognize it."

"I'm going to go make you something to eat. What's your favorite dinner?"

"I'll be happy with whatever you make me," Shiro responded with another strangled smile.

Please leave me alone. I want to get out of here. This is not good. This is not good—and this isn't right either.

"Very well," Akira responded. With that, he turned on his heel and made his way toward what had to be the kitchen down that corridor.

As soon as Akira was out of sight, Shiro fell back to the bed and let out an exasperated sigh, and he tried his best not to panic.

He was screaming on the inside. He wasn't sure what he could be doing here—and he really didn't want to be stuck here with the school's resident antisocial. Not that he thought Akira was a bad person or anything, he just didn't believe it was necessary for him to be trapped here with him. He had to find a way out of this place.

But what were the odds of him escaping?

TBC.