Stalking down the hallways in the dorm building, Arakita growled as he had one destination in mind. In his hand, his cellphone was being held tightly in his angered grip. Every so often it would vibrate as a new message was received and Arakita would tense his fingers around it, not even bothering to check the unread messages. He already knew who they were from.

All day he had been taking care of small things for [Name]; picking up her pens and pencils when she dropped them, opening her locker, grabbing things from her bag, and more. It had started to become quite frustrating when she would ask for help, giving him an innocent stare and that damned smile. When what felt like the longest day of school finally ended, Arakita thought he would finally catch a break from her helplessness—she would be going back to the dorms for the night and he would be going off to practice—but fate had other plans.

Upon arriving back to the locker rooms after another grueling practice, Arakita had been greeted with the awful sound of metal shaking against metal as his cellphone vibrated incessantly in his locker. The moment he opened it and checked his phone, he knew only one person would be contacting him this much in such a short amount of time. He'd left the locker room in a rush, steaming anger billowing from his being.

"Damn it, [Name], who the hell leaves thirty messages on my phone in five minutes?!" His outburst, along with the loud slam of her room's door, reverberated through the room. Holding up his phone, he pointed to the plethora of texts she had sent him. "I'm really starting to think you might be related to Toudou."

Ignoring his last statement, [Name] dropped her own phone out of her hands and onto her bed. She had just been getting ready to send him another text when he burst through her door. Giving him her usual grin, she waved with her good hand, seemingly ignoring his anger.

"Oh, good, you're here! You can help me now!"

"What the hell do you want now?" Realizing that he wouldn't get through to her with his anger just yet, Arakita settled for hearing her out. He scratched at a spot on his thigh, noting that he had yet to change out of his cycling outfit due to his mad dash from the locker rooms to her dorm room.

When she hadn't responded for a few seconds, Arakita moved his gaze over to meet [Name]'s. That's when he noticed the odd predicament she happened to be in. With her shirt slightly over her head, [Name]'s hair was getting tousled around by the bunching fabric, some of it caught in the uppermost buttons of her uniform's blouse. The hem of her shirt had road up a bit, exposing some of her stomach, and the sleeve on her casted arm was getting caught on the ends of the plaster. Noticing that he had finally soaked in the gravity of her situation, [Name] flashed Arakita a sheepish smile.

"I need a little help getting my shirt off," she murmured quietly. It was embarrassing for her, to say the least, not being able to undress herself due to her injury.

Heaving a rather heavy sigh, which ended with an exasperated groan, Arakita kicked the door closed behind him before walking up to [Name]. He'd been helping her all day, so what was one more thing going to hurt?

"This shirt has buttons for a reason," he grumbled, fixing her blouse so that it was on her normally once more. "Try using them next time, stupid."

"It's hard to unbutton things with only one hand," she complained, though her normal smile had returned once Arakita had started helping her.

Fingers starting from the uppermost button on her collar, Arakita went into a sort of autopilot as he went about undoing the buttons. He worked swiftly, going down the line of her shirt and the V-neckline quickly became more open the more he undid. It wasn't until he was about halfway finished did he notice the little flash of white that contrasted against [Name]'s skin tone. It took him a while to comprehend what he was seeing, but once he realized—yes, indeed [Name] was a female and she would be wearing a bra—he found a warm flush rising from his chest to his face.

Noticing that Arakita had hesitated, [Name] grinned as she noticed him averting his eyes. "What the matter, Arakita?" The hum that she had ended her question with told him that she knew exactly what was going on. "Your face is all red. Are you feeling ill?"

"Yeah, sick of helping you all the damn time," he shot back, face flushing a deeper shade of red as he hurried to finish unbuttoning her blouse, nearly ripping the rest of the buttons from their seams.

Once he had finished, Arakita turned away from her so she could remove the shirt. The shuffling of fabric was all he could hear for a while as he assumed [Name] was removing her uniform and replacing it with a regular T-shirt for the night. When the sound of movement stopped, he dared to take a peek and looked over his shoulder to see what was happening.

"Can't you do anything by yourself?" The question, though insulting, had come out rather soft.

Stepping back into his previous position, Arakita reached out to help [Name] pull her night shirt over her head, helping her pull her injured arm through the sleeve as to agitate it as little as possible. He tugged the hem of her shirt down, fingertips brushing lightly against the skin of her stomach as he hid away the white undergarment underneath. It would be her own damn problem when she wanted to try and remove that thing next; there would be no way in hell he would help with that.

"Thanks, Arakita," [Name] chirped in gratitude.

Now that she was fully clothed, there really was no reason for Arakita to be hanging around. Neither party wanted to admit it, but they both didn't really want him to leave. Glancing around for some sort of excuse to keep him longer, [Name]'s eyes landed on the small television her parents had sent over for her to keep in her dorm room. One of her favorite shows would be airing soon and it would be a fun experience watching it with someone else for a change.

Pointing at the television with her good hand, [Name] arched a brow in questioning invitation. "It's still too early for curfew, so did you want to stay over and watch something with me?"

Shrugging a bit, Arakita went over to a spot beside her bed where he would be able to see the television with little to no effort. He kicked the laundry she had on the floor to a different spot before sitting down, crossing his arms behind his head.

"If you put on something stupid, I'm leaving."

"If you say my show is stupid, I'm kicking you out."