Disclaimer: I do not own Rosario + Vampire, nor do I make any money from the writing of this story. Just don't copy from this and I won't have to hunt you down!
It has been about six to seven months after the events of the fall of the PSC. None of the four really knew how long it had been, because the after effects of that particular trauma had left the girls in a more or less depressed state. Mizore had been bedridden for a week, and Kurumu, ever so bubbly and spiteful, was muted and tame. Moka reverted to an introverted state where she would only speak when spoken to and made real conversation only with her three closest friends. This was reminiscent of the times she had spent in lower human schools, where she had more or less formed a shell of apathy to protect herself from the other students who had ostracized her. And even then, those events of early freshman year stayed far, far away from their topics of discussion. Naturally Tsukune had gone to see Mizore every day while she was kept inside, and neither of the other two could tell what exactly went on behind that closed door. Whatever it was, it certainly helped the snow woman's recovery; the nurses in the infirmary had prescribed three weeks of bed rest and had given her some kind of medication that was supposed to "help her feel better." Mizore had of course shunned the medication like the black plague, vying for natural remedies instead, and had received wonders when Tsukune started dropping by. So much so that her progress was phenomenal.
The only problem with Mizore's Tsukune recovery plan was that neither Moka nor Kurumu received similar treatment, even though they had many of the same issues. However, after Mizore had been restored to full strength, both mentally and physically (but mostly mentally; she didn't do all that much fighting, and neither had the other girls), Tsukune noticed that Moka and Kurumu too also displayed signs of their toils. So, in the end, he had spent a week with each of them personally, doing the best he could to make them feel better. Kurumu had taken to it quite well, but for some odd reason Moka was a much tougher case. She had stayed much more reserved than usual until about a month and a half before the end of freshman year. By that point she had regained much of her usual pep and happiness. With all three more effectively participating in the game of feeling alive, the group seemed to have resumed their normal routine. Mostly talking together in class, stealing away from the cafeteria to eat out behind the gymnasium, training after school (though that didn't start up until long after their battle. Even then as soon as Inner Moka had been released the three pitiable souls were subjected to over half an hour of degrading remarks and lectures about how one should truly fight against a stronger opponent), being normal.
But the girls were too wrapped up in reintegrating themselves into daily life to notice anything wrong with the very person that had been helping them get better. Tsukune had been troubled from the very beginning, as soon as he had left the horrible place and returned the others to their rooms, in fact. He tried to hide it as best as he could by venting it through assistance to the others, but it didn't help his own psyche at all. Every time he was finally able to get to sleep nightmares (not in the dreamworld where he had gone when most conflicted or in danger, but real, tangible nightmares) had plagued his sleep as thoroughly as any blade or poison. He was able to recount three upon memory, because they were the most prominent; one, thankfully short, involved the same scene from his rage-induced dark form brutally breaking Kuyou's legs and sending him flying across the courtyard. The other, also short, had the perspectives switched, except he was viewing the scene after he (in Kuyou's body) had gripped Mizore in contempt and a bound Tsukune tore himself off of the post and proceeded to brutally tear himself apart. His dreaming mind had all too realistically imagined the pain, recreating it from when he himself had been broken, launched, and even bit by a thirsty vampire. Those weren't nearly as bad as the third, even though they occurred more often, which was probably for the best. The third somehow terrified him to his very core, as if it were some dark caricature of his very personality; at least once a week he would go to sleep already restless and sweaty, tossing as if gripped in some terrible poison. The transition between awake and asleep was so troubled that he could tell exactly when it started; one minute he would be trying to fight off the nightmare since he knew it was coming, then all would fade to nondescript black. The black would stay there for a minute or two, tempting him to try and escape it by some queer sense of will, and then as soon as he thought whatever hurdle was keeping him there was about to be surpassed all thought and action would stop as if time were somehow frozen in place. Then, feeling himself look straightforward if he wasn't already by that point, he would witness a figure forming itself from the very black he was trapped in. Nothing was peculiar about it; slightly taller than average, slightly muscular build, and an average enough face. But the horrifying part about it was that it was him. He was witnessing his own creation from something about as formless and evil as sin itself. It may not have been as bad if it were his old human self, or even his vampiric self. But the thing that birthed itself from the black was the ghoul that he had fought what felt like a decade ago. It was... different, somehow. As if it retained some portion of his personality in its matte black skin and dead ruby eyes.
He would usually wake from this particular dream in a bout of screaming and thrashing about, which thankfully broke nothing because he kept nothing. All of his furniture was further away from his mattress, so the only things damaged were his fingers. The floor was made of concrete to keep the place from being demolished by irate youkai, and all it did to his sealed hand was bruise it. Tsukune had realized after the third or fourth dream that the figure he was seeing was not, in fact, the ghoul, but whatever monster he became when he lost control. A sort of mixture between his original vampire form and the ghoul that he had defeated (or so he thought). That, he realized further, was what scared him so terribly when he had this dream; he was a monster in truth, no better than any of the other brutes that inhabited the academy. Of course, there were civilized ayashi, but as with any race there were less advanced species. The Tsukune he saw borne from that darkness emanated so much evil that he wondered if it was truly himself. But, there were the resemblances not between it and the ghoul, but between he and it. The same eyes, not malevolent, but merely dead with unexpressed rage and anguish. The hair, so vibrantly silver it reminded him of Inner Moka's own, was not the decaying and duller mess that the ghoul bore. Instead of alien symbols engraved onto the black skin of his chest, stomach and shoulders, these were erased and made the whole torso black. A dark facsimile of himself not entirely evil, but also not entirely him.
He told none of this to the others, of course. They had their own problems to worry about, and he was more than capable of handling it. In fact, he had kept the immense pain included in the process of forgoing humanity and becoming a vampire secret from all of them, as even though it was astounding in terms of physical progression, the unnatural changes had wreaked havoc on his body. The pain had kept him awake most nights, until the changes had become too dramatic. Then... you know the rest. The very thought of any one of them trying to comfort him while they were either depressed or recovering made him protective and angry in the same moment. So, as soon as they were all happy and cohesive once more, he finally allowed himself to feel his own pain, to relive the horrid moments of his battle against the demon fox both under and delivering devastating blows. To ponder just what had happened when he had lost control and tore apart the youko in the heat of his fury.
Tsukune almost never remembered anything after his bouts of uncontrollable rage. Only snatches of senses came back to him; a blinding sight of fire rushing toward his face, the taste of blood in his mouth not from an open wound but from another living being's own lifeblood, the sound of sizzling flesh and the crack of fire licking at every surface. Usually these memory fragments came to him at night, when his mind was most vulnerable and random, or in the odd parts of the day when his thoughts went every which way. Although there were moments where he could distinctly – and vividly – realize a certain part of his memory. In one of his science classes he had dealt with some salty smelling chemicals, and seemingly out of nowhere the smell of fresh blood was heavy in his nostrils, drowning his smell with the heavy scent of iron and salt. Those were most recent, since they were from much more violent encounters. Anything from before had mostly been pure rage or pain, and those were easily ignored.
Aside from dealing with the aftereffects of the climactic battle he had waged, he had noticed another thing; Mizore seemed to be paying much more attention to him than before. It wasn't too obvious right after the event, when she was bedridden, but about a half month after Tsukune had started getting the feeling someone was watching him when he walked to and from the school, which was bad enough. Not only that, but when he walked the halls with his three friends, Mizore would almost naturally gravitate closer to him without even thinking about it, like a lone asteroid riding the wave of the stationary planet's orbit. At lunch (Tsukune had used some of his newly acquired carpenter skills from woodshop class and his vampire strength along with some borrowed tools to build a serviceable picnic table for four), Mizore would not sit next to him as that spot was reserved for Moka, but right across from him every time they ate. She would usually bring nothing, except a meager bowl of cold miso soup once in a blue moon, and would be content to stare at Tsukune for the entire time unafraid, like she was right for doing so.
All the attention had had him at first suspicious, then scared, then worried in quick succession. When it got to the point where he was no longer sure if he was being watched through his open window, as he had no blinds or drapes for it, he had brought the thought to mind that he should talk to her about it. He thought maybe something was wrong with her, or their friendship, or their camaraderie in general. Tsukune didn't think snow women usually acted like that (by which he meant stalking to the point of never letting him out of her sight) so he eventually resolved to take her aside one day and get it out in the open.
Early in the waking days of January, which was still depressingly the same drab overcast and same room temperature with slight humidity, Tsukune had gone to the women's dorms earlier than was normal for their daily meet-up and snuck up to Mizore's room (as he was no longer 'caring' for her, he was once again rejected from the building like a hobo trying to get into a high class restaurant) via some sneaky maneuvering and almost hilarious hiding. The knock to her door was quiet and curt, but the snow woman had heard it all the same; being a girl with a tight case of a need for cleanliness, she was usually up long before everybody else making sure her room was presentable and tidy, even though she dared let no one but herself in. Tsukune, of course, was the exception. She had nearly had a premature heart attack when she opened the door, curious as to whom would seek her out at such an hour, and beheld a nervous looking Tsukune standing right on her doorstep.
She quickly remembered her manners, though, and invited him in, offering tea. He accepted as graciously as he could, and they sat down at the table in the middle of the room, which would normally be the receiving room in a normal home. Tsukune had noticed over the week of visiting her that she kept an extremely tidy living space, almost as if her room were a house she was cleaning for guests. Which was ironic, since she never had anyone over unless they more or less barged into her room. Nevertheless, she was much more comfortable having Tsukune here now, so it wasn't as awkward as it could have been.
Mizore sipped her tea, the green leaves stronger in this batch. It almost tasted like she were drinking plant. She liked it that way, but she berated herself for serving Tsukune the same thing; guests were always to have the perfect medium between light and heavy tea. At length, she said, "What is it you wanted, Tsukune-kun?"
Tsukune glanced up for a second, relieved she got right to the point and also remorseful that she did. It was pretty early, so he was in no hurry, but because of that fact he didn't want to stay long. Early visits to the girls' dorm weren't exactly proper. He liked this particular batch of tea; the heavy taste of leaf made him feel more human for a few moments. His mother had always brewed it heavy like this, and the taste made him remember sunny afternoons sitting outside while he and his mother drank tea and watched the cars, birds, even the clouds. Anything that seemed vibrant with life. His face must have betrayed his absent mind, because by this point Mizore was staring intently at him, waiting for a response. Once she saw she had his attention again, she waited a bit more patiently and sipped her tea some more. Tsukune tried to gather his courage, but for some reason he couldn't realistically put it out there without sounding either completely awkward, accusatory, or both.
He had to get it over with sometime, so he decided to plow straight ahead. "Mizore-chan, have you been stalking me recently?" His face steeled unconsciously in preparation for what seemed like the inevitable backlash.
But all she did was stare back at him with those piercing ice blue eyes. She sipped her tea, evaluating the query as if it were some difficult question on an exam. Tsukune began wondering if it was the right way to approach the situation, and thought –
"Of course, Tsukune-kun. Why wouldn't I?"
That was a shocker. He hadn't expected her to come right out and say it; usually people would dodge the subject or proffer excuses or alibis. She laughed at the expression he had on his face, which he realized must be one of stunned blankness. "I stalk you because I love you, Tsukune-kun. Didn't you know that?" she explained. With this, she tilted her head in that odd way as she had the first day they met, her bangs covering one eye in a way both cute and odd.
Tsukune's eyes had gone wide, but he recovered quickly enough with a smile. Mizore was being a bit too straightforward. But was he so surprised? Spending all that time with her both during the beginning of the year and throughout, and then the whole PSC thing had happened and a whole week had passed of him taking care of her. And some of the things he had said to her...
Mizore got up, apparently finished with her tea (it was empty), and went around the table. Before Tsukune could even think to protest, she sat down on his lap, getting even closer to him than ever before, closer than even his mom had gotten. Blood instantly ran to his cheeks, making his darker sealed skin burn bright with an endearing red. He hadn't even had time to process the fact that a girl was sitting in his lap before she laid her head on his chest, letting herself lean into his warm and well built chest. Instinctively his arm went around her back, pulling her closer to him in an ingrained display of comfort, but his cheeks only flared redder once he realized what he had done.
Mizore didn't mind in the least, though. Her heart had been racing like a horse as soon as she had made the movement to sit on his lap, but it had calmed a bit when she felt the arm curl around her. It wasn't perverted, just comforting, like two lovebirds simply enjoying each other's closeness. She found she enjoyed it far more than she thought she would've; most guys would take advantage of her being so open. Then again, she had known deep down that Tsukune wasn't like that in the least. It was part of the reason why she felt so attached to him; he was always so caring, so innocent, and so empathic to everyone, especially to his friends. Did the fact that his body was always a lot cooler than it normally should be now help? Definitely. Mizore felt as if Tsukune was the one person she could truly connect with both in mind and in body.
"M-Mizore-chan?"
"Shh, Tsukune-kun, it's okay."
"O-oh, all r-right..."
Clumsily, he put his other arm around her and hugged her close, while she tried to get as close to him as possible. They sat there for quite some time, enjoying the closeness that they shared, until it was time to go to class.
Ever since then, Tsukune had been stalked mercilessly, and while he knew about it now, he still didn't know where the hell the snow woman was half the time unless he fully went out and searched for her unsealed. Her stealth skills were unparalleled. While he did have a great deal of feelings for the snow woman, the way she had laid hers out for him so plainly made him uneasy. He was pretty sure he had feelings for Moka – both of them – so he was a little off balance. He was raised to disavow polygamy, but the circumstances were pushing him to embrace that taboo. He was too afraid to even think about getting closer to Kurumu, since she was a ticking time bomb of hormones and emotions, and he didn't want to even try and approach that just yet. He didn't even know what Moka felt about him by this point, either, because before at the Arcade, she had seemed so interested in him, and Outer Moka seemed to care about him a lot, but he never knew if Inner Moka truly held feelings for him. Especially not with the near constant lectures and reprimanding.
At least one thing was better about the rest of the school year; ever since Kuyou had been defeated, the PSC had disbanded. The four didn't know much about that, except the youko had dropped out of the academy to go someplace else. That little detail was drowned out in the face of the dismantlement of the Committee though; with their leader gone and humbled, none of his other goons had had the guts to take over leadership. They didn't want to be beaten to a pulp by someone who could trump their leader, whom they once thought nigh invincible. The fall had been a great relief on everyone else's shoulders, as they had no one to bully them out of their money anymore, nor had to worry about the looming threat of subterfuge and/or death. The cast out members of the closed committee were shunned and hated, and it was mostly deserved. Those who joined with their cruel leader were either messed up to begin with or changed horribly while doing so, and were therefore unable to return to normal academy life at first. It had taken a few months for ex-members to not get looks of hatred and disgust, and even to present day they were still treated with ill intent.
Mikogami had noticed that his previously established student police group had been shut down, but he let it pass. He had seen how some of the members were treating their fellow students with disrespect, but since they were all young, he had been more tolerant. In fact, he was going to renounce Kuyou's role as president and lessen their authority a smidgeon, but then Tsukune and his friends had come along and shown the fox a lesson themselves. In the end, he thought it was all for the better; Tsukune had become stronger by overcoming that battle, and the plans he had for the kid were put further along because of it. The only anomaly in the whole maniacal system he ran was that foreign guy, Kobayashi. Mikogami knew he was trouble, because he obviously lied about his age and credentials, but he had decided to let the intruder run his course, see what he was up to. After all, he could deal with the intruder if he caused too much ruckus. Tsukune had managed to keep him in line, but the whole thing was still obscured to his vision, large as it may be. Mikogami always kept a contingency plan for every possible failure, anyway. His office may seem simple and solely used for paperwork, but it was much, much more than that. In fact, no one but the headmaster knew exactly what went on behind that mahogany door, and he tried to keep as much as he could secret. Not that he had to; most people would only be able to physically spend about seven minutes in the man's company before being completely weirded out, ayashi or otherwise, and would subsequently leave.
Issa Shuzen himself respected the headmaster, despite the inner level of hatred he naturally held for the man. The head of the Pacific vampires regarded him with contempt among the many others he despised professionally, and kept tabs on him through as many sources as he could. Irritatingly, he had only managed to get one sole spy on the headmaster's board, and even then he reported back nothing but academic plans or vague outlines of innumerable schemes that crossed each other over multiple times and often lead to no true end. Issa felt Tenmei knew he was trying to watch him from his northern palace, but he tried not to dwell on it; the fact only made him more frustrated, and he didn't need the extra stress.
Tenmei infuriated him further and to a greater degree when he more or less told him that he wouldn't allow the vampire lord to monitor the goings-on of his own daughter. No accounts have been kept of her history, and even academic records were obscured behind a web of legal policies. Money would not buy its way into Mikogami's stronghold, and Issa hated it. He had wanted to see if his daughter was living up to the Shuzen name, even if she chose to go by that ridiculous surname she had made for herself. A true vampire must excel above all others in their class and in their peers, no exceptions. He had meant to send a messenger to retrieve information on her progress and other such things, but other matters had kept him off the errand.
The most infuriating thing of all, however, was the rumor that his own daughter had befriended another vampire within the academy, and a secondborn one at that. It enraged him just thinking about it; his daughter, pure and strong, the most intelligent and powerful of all vampires, was wasting her time with a secondborn vampire. If she so much as dared to pursue anything further, he would personally go down there and extricate her from the academy at once, regulations be damned. Most of the school year had passed before he had had any time to deal with it anyhow, so he bided his time until the end so he would have more leverage during the interim between years. He would see just what was going on behind the safeguard of Mikogami's little realm before long, that he was sure of.
Author's Notes: I apologize for this chapter being peculiarly short, but I wanted to give out an epilogue of sorts that also serves as the exposition for the rest of section II of my story. You see, thanks to the vast storage of the internet, I can post as much crap on one story at once, so I can basically fit however many books I want into one "story" and make them as long (or as short) as I want. So have no fear! I will still continue this story, but from this chapter on, it will be referenced as "Book II." You will know the name by the end of the book's completion. Until then, and forever your aspiring author, Vincent.