Rydia was under the completely accurate impression that her stomach was not only trying to devour her inside out, but was trying to make the horrific death even more humiliating by making everyone in a 10-mile radius aware of it.

Choosing to ignore how it was mainly a fault of her own, as no-one had insisted she fight without respite, she instead forced another spoonful of food into her mouth, swallowing around her reluctance to put in the extra effort involved with chewing. Her face was uncomfortably numb, and she found she had slight difficulty moving the muscles in her cheek of which her new scar ran down- it certainly didn't help that it was the right side of her face, where her misaligned lips pulled up into an asymmetrical slant.

It gave her the permanent suggestion of a smirk, which wasn't far off her underlying personality.

The cafeteria was desolate save the few souls who couldn't be bothered to go to their classes, a sore reminder of the knowledge she was missing out on. Flame theory was one of her priorities, and she was half inclined to ditch the plan and just stick a knife into Mary's neck.

Then, she thought of Squalo, decided she liked her organs where they were, and settled on annoying him in a way less likely to end with her imminent demise. Yes, she was still reeling from her encounter with Xanxus.

…. His level of sass had been unprecedented.

She poked at the fried rice and meat on her plate, and revaluated her options. Firstly, she had to find out Mary Sue's objective.

Though it was possible that she was just some poor misguided soul looking for acceptance in a strange away- she snorted in disbelief- it was highly unlikely, and almost too stupid to consider.

She paused, and a frown flitted across her face.

Revaluating what she knew of the blonde, she almost made to note it down on her hand, before realizing she no longer carried pens with her. Scowling, and mood decidedly taking a turn for the worse, she went over it mentally instead.

-Keeps up a polite façade and projects weakness.

-Intelligent and creative, as exampled by use of her Flames.

-Extreme advantage in Flame control and types.

-Seems to be able to track Flames, she collapsed when Xanxus was in the vicinity? Might be strain of maintaining her Misty Sky cocktail, unlikely as she doesn't seem too bad off now.

-Has more trouble maintaining control over large reserves, flaring Flame signature throws her off balance?

-Hasn't come after my hide in a rage, dangerous amount of patience. Or dedication to objective?

-If its dedication, why? Personal agenda? Orders? Method of achieving objective appears to involve gaining support of the student body, or is it a byproduct?

-She's probably unhinged. That smile is too genuine.

Rydia considered scratching the last bit off, since she wasn't so sure she should be marking all happy people as unhinged, but then again….

…

She kept the last point, and was eyeing her plate with a mixture of hunger and laziness while debating the humiliation of straws, when someone dropped into the seat to her left.

Her fingers twitch around the fork, and she's kind of glad she was too out of it to throw the fork at the person, because, excuse you, eating utensil?

Even so, she compensates by glaring pointedly at the intruder- Iris Hepburn smirked in amusement, Violet eyes clear and large Flame reserves booming. A flicker of her own gaze noted that the fellow Cloud was probably unaware of Mary Sue, simply assuming she was just a new student with a hell lot of clout and a sunny disposition. Idiot. That would only be an acceptable conclusion if Mary was a powerful as hell Sky.

As it was, Rydia knew that she needed to create contacts- in fact, it was vital to their plan. She sucked on her teeth, noticed that the voluptuous young adult was opening her mouth to speak, promptly realized she wasn't paid nearly enough for this, and got up to leave.

Immediately the sly, faux charming expression faded from Iris' features, and her eyes narrowed.

"You- "

"-Will speak to you later. We share a dorm room, and the brief shower I took wasn't enough to get all the blood off me properly. I'm eating in the room, sleeping for 16 hours, and only then will I acknowledge your existence beyond this."

With that, she spun on her heel and strode from the room, fighting the urge to raise her shoulders defensively. Social interaction, word manipulation and dealing, seemed like it would be the straw that broke the camel's back. She heard Iris' chair scrape back as the Cloud made to follow her, but an attempt to quicken her stride was met with a spike of pain that nearly made her buckle to her knees.

That was…. a lot more than training pains. Her leg began to seize up as a cramp began to set in, and she was abruptly aware of her presence in a very public area. She had downed nearly an entire litre or more of water the moment she got to the cafeteria, so she didn't have to worry about it being dehydration, but even she couldn't walk on an unresponsive leg.

And she was not crawling to the dorms.

She glimpses a familiar head of spiky black hair, parting the crowd like the red sea, and feels dread pool in her stomach. She vainly scours for a blonde or silver head of hair, since Dino was both too nice and meek to refuse being a prop for her, and Squalo and her had bled on each other too much to be too annoyed at being used as a walking stick.

(Especially since their fight was the reason for her limbs trying to mutiny. Swords man's pride and all that, strong opponent wasn't much of one if they face plant in a hallway and gets shot by an opportunistic student.)

As it is, she contemplates jumping out of a window, deduces that's synonymous with suicide in her current case and wouldn't get her any closer to a vacant area, and decides gloomily that she really is a horrid tactician.

Because she was seriously considering blasting the place with Killing Intent a literal 2 feet away from the trigger happy Vongola.

Iris was a lot closer than two feet, and Rydia had stopped walking, standing awkwardly with one hip cocked because she was balancing all her weight on one leg.

She takes a deep breath, and Murasaki roars.

She hits the ground.

The hysteria hits fast and hard, exacerbated when Xanxus spins around, horrifically fast, and let's loose an entire flaming salvo over head- most hit students, and there's a graze on her forehead where she hadn't dropped fast enough.

But the area clears with the sound of stampeding elephants, at least one footprint in her spine, on top of the bruise Squalo gave her.

Silence, and an ominous click as the gun levels at her- the lack of Blood Lust or Killing Intent makes it worse somehow.

So, she rolls onto her back, and sits up against the wall, ignoring the gun as she tries to massage the cramp out of her muscles with hands heated by Murasaki.

The agony doesn't show on her face, but the sporadic twitches give her away, and venom drips from his voice when he speaks.

"Scum."

"Rum."

"I'm going to kill you, extremely slowly, by shooting a bullet into every one of your limbs, hot enough that the lead melts into your flesh. Then, I'm going to pluck them out, one, by fucking one."

"…. I can't think of a rhyme for that one, what a rummy tum tum. Frik I'm tired. I majored in English and Psychology for this. Rummy tum tum? Shooting me would be a disservice, truly."

The sarcasm rings true, her lip lifted slightly in a snarl. The expression is halfhearted, and she flicks a violet glance up to meet scarlet eyes.

"If you shoot me, you'll die with the words rummy tum tum stuck in your head for the rest of your tanuki life."

His lips twitched.

"Calling me a tanuki is counterproductive to not being shot."

As if to underline the fact, he fires off a shot that takes a red streak from her shoulder. She didn't even blink, and began doing stretches.

"What the hell are you on about? Tanukis are the best thing to happen to this world, have you seen their fluffy little faces? Since you're the worst thing to happen to this world, it's an apt name. I like irony."

"Rummy tum tum was the worst thing to happen to this world."

Rydia wished she could have recorded that line. Then, when he started crowing about being Vongola Decimo in the future, she could just play back 'Rummy tum tum' in his own voice back at him.

"I stand defeated. But not, like, really, because- "

She waved a hand at her seizing leg.

"-Mutiny, y'know?"

He kicks her in the face, and holsters his gun.

"That was really insensitive. I want to be able to kick people in the face."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"Yes."

"And yet, I remain unconvinced of that, and more convinced of your inability to function like anything outside of a hot fucking mess."

"To be able to convince someone of something, you need to be able to watch from their view point- unfortunately, my head can't go further up my ass."

"Further?"

"Hot mess, remember? Sheesh, short term memory loss already?"

"…Do you ever think before you speak?"

She shrugged.

"Has anyone told you your 'Judging you' face is on point?"

He walks away after kicking her in the ribs hard enough for them to creak, but for a moment she had forgotten about Mary Sue, about the blood she could still feel under her finger nails, about the weight of her weapons in the thigh holster she wore, about the reason for her current aches.

She recoils from the faint pulse of loss that ripples through Murasaki, but isn't stupid enough to dip onto her Flame wavelength to check what she suspected.

….

Damn Sky.

….

She sighed, and leant back, staring at the ceiling from half lidded eyes, till the cognac faded back in, tired in a way the unearthly violet would never be capable of replicating.

Ah well. She had always had a side of destructive self-indulgence.

…

Squalo watched in distaste as the student slid down the wall, leaving behind a streak of blood, gibbering still falling from his lips- Useless, every single one of them. Mary had done something to everyone that she called into her room.

(Mist slid through the holes, widened them until they were cracking, splintering, and the fog danced on the ashes of the ghost town it left behind.)

Hissing through his teeth, his ran a hand through his hair, eyes narrowed in thought- a spike of pain, and he bit down on his tongue hard enough to draw blood, swiftly taking weight back off his ankle.

It hadn't been as bad before, when adrenaline was numbing everything, but he had had to get it set at the clinic, and now it was fixated on making every step of his life agonizing.

Literally.

Sighing aggravatedly, He scowled when he noted a familiar set of footsteps, though the gait was uneven. Rydia saluted him halfheartedly, and continued past the Library, making her way to the Female dorms.

After a moment of consideration, he dropped into step with her, and ignored both her muscle pains and the blood trickling down her temple and shoulder.

"I'm not getting anywhere with anyone who's interacted with her."

"It would be safe to assume she's doing surveillance on a person or group, since if she wanted access to the school records, generators, bank accounts, security, weaponry, or hell, even the freaking staff bathrooms, all she would have to do is smile."

"Why now, though? She could have been planted earlier."

"So, the person or staff has recently been added. Can't be waiting to give a false sense of security, since she hasn't exactly been subtle in what she's doing. Have we ruled out independent action?"

"99 percent, she joined with a quite a bit of fanfare unable to be achieved without backing. Could be forced backing, but I doubt it- most would work willingly with someone of her Flame caliber."

Rydia pressed her lips into a thin line.

"Fanfare…. why though? A subtle entrance would be better for surveillance. But her approach…perhaps she intends to try and get someone influential here under her thumb?"

Squalo shook his head immediately, and glared a group of lingering students out of their path and hearing distance.

"Intended. Past tense. Her approach has become more brutal, messy. Could be attempting to threaten, but if they're that influential, it would be a lost cause."

"Might have been my fault. Barbie doll looked unhinged as hell when I broke free and kicked under my boot. Maybe I made her reckless? She had seemed ready to play a waiting game."

"She's a professional, that shouldn't have been enough."

Realization flickered through Rydia's eyes.

"Tanuki was in the vicinity at the time, and when I accidentally tuned into his signature, there was no signs her Mist had got anywhere close. But why would that…Oh. You can't get more influential than the Vongola?"

Sterling eyes narrowed immediately.

"And if she had intended to get him under her and her benefactors thumb, his resistance would negate her entire approach. Would explain the sudden brutality. Surveillance might be a switch over to hostile action."

"He would have definitely noticed a bunch of mooks stalking him, so it's probably more like she's picking students that coincide with whatever path he's rent, and pulling information like teeth. Why go after his head specifically though?"

"It's likely he might be one of the more vulnerable heirs now, having been transferred from a literal fortress to here. That, and he's comparatively younger and therefore must be easier to manipulate, right? Fucking idiots."

Something in that rung false, but it was swept away for a more dawning realization.

"OH, MY GODRIC YOU DIDN'T CURSE AT ALL UNTIL THE END AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN VOII, WHAT SORCERY- "

"VOIIIII, SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU INSANE TURNIP!"

"NO WAY IN HELL, YOU HAVE A STRATEGY VOICE IM DYING- "

….

It was with a fresh bruise on her head that Rydia sauntered into dorm room 418, her leg at least vaguely functional at this point. Flavia blinked down at her from where she was swinging upside down from her bunk, but didn't say anything as she made a bee-line for the connected bathroom, only pausing to grab her toiletries and a set of clothes, unwilling to use the public showers down the hallway.

As it was, she ended up spending more time watching blood swirl down the drain than was probably healthy, steam curling off her reddened skin. At long last, she found herself able to crawl out from under the water that pounded her back, moving sluggishly through the resultantly steamed room.

When she finally grumbled out of the bathroom, a grimace painted over her lips, and feeling cleaner than she had all day, she was completely ready to crumple into her bed like a doll with its strings cut.

Instead, she paused, and examined the one-woman scene going on in the room, Flavia and Iris nowhere to be found.

Rydia was highly aware of her own faults- being Languorous was practically her core mentality, she was spiteful in a self-destructive manner, she flew off the handle because the tiniest thing could trigger her mountain slide of bottled issues, she took far too much pleasure in her intimidation factor, and you couldn't swing a koala without hitting one of her many sociopathic tendencies.

But despite all this, she liked to think she had the most trivial of good points- a protective instinct that wasn't stalker-like, she still thanked retail workers and held open doors for people until it started affecting her schedule, she upheld her end of bargains, and she completely respected religious beliefs and personal choices. Like say, avoiding Alcohol like the holy plague.

Evidently, Mary Sue didn't.

"Isn't there a saying about moderation and drinking before you know your limits?"

Rydia asked blandly from the threshold of the bathroom, steam curling out along her calves and gaze flicking between Lena's flushed face, and the half-consumed bottle in her hands.

Lena frowned, apparently a lightweight, and slurred something that may have been a 'I have made a huge mistake' or 'Are you a huge ass steak'.

Rydia was more inclined to believe the former, although with the Mist Flames entangling the Lightnings system, she could have said anything.

Sighing, she strode forward and tore the bottle from the Lightnings hands, who tried to protest, and ended up pitching face first into the table- Rydia wrinkled her nose at the alcohol in disgust; she emptied the bottle down the sink drain.

She trotted back into the room, cast a look at Lena, decided she could do one good thing before she passed the hell out, and threw a bottle full of water at the Lightning.

Which was apparently her nice quota for the decade, since she promptly faceplanted into her pillows and went utterly still.

Lena groaned, and threw up.

…

When she woke from a dreamless sleep edged with fatigue, exactly 16 hours later, she belatedly realized that it was a weekend and that, while classes weren't exactly cancelled, she supposed that no-one would bother to attend.

She attempted to roll onto her back, and seemed to leave her gut a good few feet above where she had flailed onto the floor in an ungraceful heap, limbs useless despite the lack of claustrophobia inducing blankets trapping them.

She laid on the cold floor for a moment, cheek down and stunned, before hauling ass to her feet, a dark red flush riding a prickling current to her cheekbones.

She blessed her dark skin as she casually stretched as though she hadn't just face-planted out of bed, and a surreptitious look around revealed no witnesses.

Clearing her throat, and grumpily noted that even she wasn't infallible to the horror of getting out of bed, before sludging over to the bathroom to clean up- its only when she ducks out again that she realizes what was slightly off about the room.

The shitfaced, and therefore hung-over lightning was no-where to be found in the dim room.

Since she didn't particularly care what happened to the other girl, (Though she noted the water bottle she had tossed was drained dry) she instead made short work of exiting the wing, unwilling to be any closer to Mary Sue- she could feel the girl's presence especially thick here.

It was only when she had exited the wing, however, that she realized she had no appetite, and therefore no destination in mind. The training rooms would do more damage than good in her current state.

Changing her course for the library, a sleight of hand that would never have fooled the more experienced had her a pen and blank notebook from a passing student.

She managed to find an alcove hidden by a couple of bookshelves that curved awkwardly to best catch the light; meaning the shadows they cast were deeper than most. It was oddly comforting, especially the thin stream of light that made it through a gap between books.

There was no seating, but she curled up on the plush carpet, and for a moment, she was in her university's library, ink stained hands and timed breathing, the rustle of papers as she went through her sketches with an absent-minded determination.

She slowly uncapped the pen, and held to awkwardly above the paper. She had been planning to write, but….

…

She held the pen strangely.

Suited for the sharp script of her handwriting, precise and neat as it was, but completely too tight, inexperienced for the deft ease of lightly stroked lines.

Something cold slipped down her spine, and the corpses breathed at her ear; she could imagine their bony fingers rattling each bump in her spine as they traced it.

Realizing that her shoulders had begun to hunch in and raise, she forcefully straightened her posture, tipping her head with a pride she didn't feel.

It wasn't like she had forgot how to draw basic shapes, the proportions.

(The calluses on her fingers rasped strangely, unfamiliarly against the pen. The hands of a warrior, useful. Not the hands of an artist and a writer. Not her hands.)

The first line came out too harsh.

The second too bold.

The third was askew.

The fourth was misjudged, and drew longer than she intended.

She breathed out, a slow exhale, and began to jerkily make the curve of a shape she once could draw with ease.

It was just an eye.

She didn't try the long, confident strokes she had once been capable of, afraid of what they would reveal- instead, she pressed the pen too hard, dragging it and making the paper scar.

She had barely come to the lower lid when she began to laugh, a broken, breathy noise not unlike the one she had given Squalo while in a berserker rage.

She was unravelling, and she didn't know what to do-

The hand holding the pen went slack, and she watched it roll in between fingers that weren't her own.

They belonged to Hibari Rydia, not- (She couldn't remember.)

The pang of loss hit her hard, harder than most things had, and she choked on it coming up. She has to swallow the bile, retching and staring unseeingly at the childish, wonky creation that lay like blood in-front of her.

The ink didn't stain these hands.

She didn't laugh, this time.

Maybe she would, later, pretend that the press of broken glass against her heart was just the strain of her vocal cords, of her heaving for breath.

But for now, the world blurred out of focus as crystals fell from unworthy eyes.

(They just keep TaKiNg-)

…

…

…

(She never got anything in return. And when, indeed, had even the awkwardness of an unsure but genuine smile turned into a jagged smirk that drew blood at the edges?)

…

...

Kasumi slowed her step as she noticed that Kyoya had begun to slow his own pace, an unusual action considering his hate of crowds.

The market place bustled in a lively manner, with a few noticing her presence and scrambling to clear a path- she was forced to reject their fear induced generosity with a growing sense of amusement, watching as Kyoya gravitated towards one of the stores with what seemed to be a cobra of sorts in the display window.

A pet shop, then.

Curiosity brightening her indigo eyes, she placed the finger tips of her hand on his shoulder, steering him lightly towards the store.

He flicked unreadable steel eyes up at her, before the careful mask imitated from her own broke, excitement shining through. His lips twitched in the urge to smile, and only her own bemused, fond one, seemed to cause the twitch to grow into a small quirk that brightened his entire face.

A lesser woman might have felt loss, for how her son was already starting to hide what he felt, guarding it to his chest like a deck of cards.

She was not a lesser woman.

She was a Hibari, and if Kyoya knew when to drop his guard, and when to keep it, the pride that straightened her spine would stay impeccable longer still.

She walked into the store like a queen, cool smile in place- it wasn't quite as cheerful as her fathers, but he had more than thought her how to unnerve many.

In moments, most of the store had hurriedly evacuated, and the store keeper was sweating bullets.

Sometimes, her own reputation brought her great pleasure, like an Eagle surveying her hunting grounds.

Kyoya took no notice of his mothers subtle preening, even if to call it out was tantamount to suicide. (Unless you were Hibari Katsu, but that was a given.)

He cast a steady, assessing look over all the small animals he could find, his eyes eventually finding what seemed to be a group of tiny birds.

"We needed birds for the garden, thought it will be hard to make sure they know to hunt for themselves."

She stated imperiously, hands folded into the sleeves of her kimono; cold steel pressed against her skin but was not drawn.

Kyoya looked up her with slightly widened eyes, the equivalent of a jaw drop and walk into a light pole for Hibari's, before his eyes all but disappeared under the smile that rose his cheeks.

She twitched with the effort of holding in her cackle, and memorized the moment.

God, he was adorable as fuck, and she never should have had children.

...

"Mistakes."

Was all Kasumi told Nana that day, as the brown-haired woman cooed and snapped pictures of a still half asleep Tsuna, head of fluffy hair and in loose yellow overalls as he rubbed at one of his eyes, a pillow held tightly to his chest with the free hand.

"You regret nothing."

Nana giggled, and Kasumi shrugged helplessly.

"I know that, but he had both of our features, and I have never seen either of us smile that large. It was adorable, but I also feel like I walked in on someone cleaning their weapons."

Nana gave her a strange, but bemused look.

"A Hibari metaphor?"

"I will cut you."

Nana laughed again, Mist Flames lighter than it had ever been since her Sky had left, and Kasumi realized that it was only her and Tsunayoshi that kept her from going over the edge.

"We won't be here forever."

Because no-one ever accused Hibari Kasumi of pulling punches, rather they begged her to.

A broken smile from the brunette.

"I know."

…

"VOIIIII, WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU IN MY DORM?!"

"Shut the fuck up trash."

…

Red had been bandaging the hands of his apparent Rain Guardian, a tall mute girl with black hair and azure eyes, berating her with a scalding tongue gained from the streets, when Kinoko walked into the room he had been given, silently handing him an envelope with an unbroken seal.

It was emblemed with the crest of that weird school the Cloud had gone to, so he knew that the unbroken seal didn't necessarily mean that the contents hadn't been read.

Nevertheless, he pulled out the sheet of paper, eyes narrowed and sharp- It was a piece of blank white paper, with a series of holes punched through in specific locations. At the top of the paper was a single sentence, written like a quote.

He knew it was a dialogue, and trusting his Rain, crawled under the bed to retrieve the practice-books hidden in the slats of the matress.

They contained the stories she had made him copy by hand.

Finding the book in English, the language the dialogue had been written in, he went through the pages until he found the one with the dialogue.

He fit the paper over the page, and the punched-out holes let through one or more letters at a time. Backwards.

He rolled his eyes at her almost spited sense of humor, but his genius was easily able to decipher the sentence anyways.

Hostile activity on Vongola heirs?

…. Of all the things to ask information on, she had to go straight for the strongest family of crazy to ever grace the mafia.

His Rain, Maria, Laughed.

"Traitor, Sai."

He grumbled uncharitably.

She looked at him with warm eyes, unlike the dead gaze he had been met with when he first found her on the streets, and tilted her head.

"Robin found a street a good city over where it seems a lot of mafia members tend to frequent the bar called 'Dead Rose.' We might find a Vongola member there, and if the heirs are being attacked, even the lowest tiers would know. Not by the Boss' choice, but they would."

Red frowned.

"We're kids. We wouldn't get past the backdoor, Sai."

"Marvin is a Mist, and his adult façade finally holds for more than a second."

"... Find a map on the area, and send Robin out to charm the local street rats to help us if things go wrong, Sai."

"Of course."

…

(Here's your extremely late Halloween special, but to make it up to you, it's a civilian AU as well? Also, OVER 450 FOLLOWERS and my guilt is through the fucking roof.)

Rydia stared blankly at the textbook in her lap, and rhythmically taps her highlighter onto the blue streaked paragraph, trying and failing to absorb the information.

The watery sunlight that barely broke through the clouds of winter shed blue light through the window she was sat besides, cold penetrating even through the multiple warm bodies around her- she absently pulled her fringe free of her garnet beanie, and was glad for the thick grey jeans and olive windbreaker.

The coffee shop bustled, a busy location even when the weather wasn't as cold - wisps of steam curled from her mocha, ordered vanilla pastry untouched and looking ready to wilt into the dreary backdrop.

A rumble, and the storm finally broke in a gentle ripple of rain drops that she knew would grow vicious soon- the bell tinkled as someone stumbled into the shelter of the shop, and she just about catches violent, loud cursing before the sound is absorbed into the cacophony that seems a tad too distant.

She blinks and startles, banging her knee against the underside of the table when someone abruptly drops into the seat opposite her- she casts an annoyed glare upwards, and is greeted to the sight of a platinum blonde male with a red scarf around their neck; white ear muffs to match the zipped up black jacket hastily thrown over equally dark jeans.

They seem to be busy warming their hands on their ordered drink and cursing under their breath, so when a quick glance around reveals that all the other tables are indeed occupied, she lets the presence of another human being slide.

She doesn't bother initiating conversation, and the table shudders as they plop down a truly horrifically thick textbook onto the table- she stares in disbelief at the title, something in relation to history, and wonders how he hasn't broken his fingers carrying that.

Realization hits her, and she glances down at the paragraph she had been unable to process, something on some obscure war nobody cared about because it was all just skeletons and pottery now.

…. She could, she supposed, swallow her pride and ask the clear history major for help.

It doesn't even surprise her that she instead shuts the book and finally acknowledges her neglected pastry.

The scent of pumpkin spice is overpowering, as is the tangible presence of fresh autumn rain further customers carry as they walk in- she idly notes that an entire group of people are dressed in their Halloween costumes, clearly going to attend a party as several are distraught about the not so sudden weather change.

She comes to the realization that she should probably kick the third chair at the table away to avoid further company, but is distracted when the male lets out a piercing snarl of frustration and slams his face into his textbook.

She pauses, fork in her mouth, and leans slightly over the table to get a better look at how he hadn't broken his nose doing that.

Pulling it out idly, she tilts her head and speaks in a mockingly thoughtful tone.

"You know, I have a highlighter if you need one. I hear it works better than ramming your face into passages."

"VOIIIIII, FUCK THE HELL OFF!"

He spits, raising his head to glare heatedly at her- she leans back into her seat, suitably cheered up now that she had someone else to infect her misery with- the cheer is ruined however, when he spots her own textbook, and scoffs.

"How well is that fucking highlighter working for you?"

He sneers, and she narrows her eyes, deciding he quite annoyed her- before either can stab the other with a fork, a lithe figure slams an expresso shot onto the table, tipping a salt shaker into Rydia's lap with the movement- they drop into the free chair with a dark scowl, and ignoring both entirely, props their feet onto the table and starts scrolling through their phone; headphones clamped firmly over their ears.

She very calmly lifts the shaker from her lap, and stands to dust her jeans off- the blonde is glaring holes into the other male's head, and looks about ready to rip him a new one.

Before that can happen, Rydia casually holds the shaker over the dark-haired occupants head, and crushed the metal container in her fist.

The male stills as the salt and metal bits shower down on his head; her having released her hold, and he raises heated red eyes to clash against her cognac ones.

Water drips from the scarlet feathers braided into a lock of his pitch hair, toned olive skin and black leather jacket lending him an almost mobster like vibe.

The chair skids backwards as he stands, face already contorting into a ferocious scowl- before the situation can get out of hand, the blonde nearly kicks the table into them, enraged as he holds up his textbook, of which a page was dripping with the remnants of a coffee that had probably been tipped onto his book during the scene.

Rydia hasn't been in a three-way fight before, but she gets ready to kick the dark haired one through the window and slug the blonde anyways.

Her plans are thwarted when the door is suddenly flung open, slamming into the wall of the shop- a group of people pour in, and for a moment she thinks she's looking at more Halloween costumed trick or treaters- then, she sees the clown outfits and the metal that gleams under the lights.

"I thought that died out!"

She hissed, stumbling out of the ay and consequentially into the dark-haired male as people begin to scream and throw themselves towards the back of the shop, several standing and yelling in confusion.

He grimaces, and his response is lost when their practically thrown through the window; a woman screeching in a wild-eyed panic; a definite overreaction.

Then, one of them start up a chainsaw, and she sees blood spray.

The blonde, she belatedly realizes, had brought a sheath like thing in with him- now, he withdraws a bokken, and with mild annoyance covering his expression, begins to push his way to the front of the crowd.

Disbelieving, she gapes as the male with the headphones pulls a freaking gun out of his jacket, and takes aim at one of the idiots with too much face paint.

Throwing her hands in the air in a screw it gesture, she makes her way to the front of the crowd as well, and kicks one of them in the face hard enough to send their knife through the wall.

The rest, as they say, is history.

….

(A/N)

(Cross posting to AO3 under the same title if you like that format better.)

First off, I'm sorry for the wait. Second off, the exams went well, so yay! Unfortunately, my winter break is going to be somewhere with shit internet, so there's that.

ON TO REVIEW REPLIES! (Thanks for the love~)

To; alexa-chan me, DragonClanMaster, akagami hime chan, Dallas Baker-

I'm glad you enjoy my shit humor, and trust me, there's more to come~ And the bonding WILL HAPPEN! Once I figure out how to deal with their awkwardness….

To; BloomOutOfSeason

That you think this is worth a re-read makes me incredibly happy. Thank you so much.

To; Etha –

Well, here's your special! Also, the plan will only be fun when it goes horrifically wrong~

To; ChillingShadow-

Again, thank you for the OC submission, and I'm glad that I portrayed them to your satisfaction!

To; Guest

Understood. *solemn nod.*