Hahahahahaha hiiiiiii I swear I still love these dorks :'D
Anyways, this is like over half a year late, but I started this in September, when I was basically in their positions, and just never got around to finishing it, I guess, so here it is :D It's mostly nonsense, but basically they're all in college and it's August-ish 2020 and no one knows what's going on :')
I still hate FFN for not letting me post more than three characters on the characters summary, yes I will be salty about that forever.
When she saw the email, a ballooning sense of disappointment filled Ryouko—not that that's anything new. Between V Shipping University suddenly declaring two weeks before the start of the fall semester that everything was going to be virtual, and now her international student mentor being unavailable due to an emergency…
Well, her freshman year is off to a great start.
Her father's not too displeased about the all-virtual format. He hadn't stopped fretting since she made the decision to move to campus, despite the entirely virtual nature of her classes, and he hasn't stopped smiling since the decision was made to keep everyone at home. Ryouko can't help but be a tiny bit relieved too, because if the school decided it was necessary, then it was probably for the best...but she's mostly frustrated.
And now, on the day of her scheduled zoom with her international student mentor, she's staring at a 'waiting for the host to start meeting' screen, wondering who they tossed in at the last minute, and if they even know Japanese.
A small burst of static makes her jump, and she quickly tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, sitting up a little straighter as the screen flickers for a moment. Instead of a face, there's a gray screen with the name 'Dorothea' in basic white font, and she mouths the name to herself slowly as she waits for the connection to stabilize.
Ten seconds pass...then another ten…
"Ano...h-hello?" Ryouko asks in slightly clumsy English. "D-Dorothea-san?"
Suddenly, the gray screen becomes a blur of light and motion before solidifying. "Ah, hi, sorry about that. I've got four housemates all using the internet at the same time, so my connection is crap."
Friendly teal eyes are paired with an equally friendly smile on dark skin, and Dorothea waggles her fingers in a cheerful wave. "Naoe Ryouko-san, right? Nice to meet you." In the background, she thinks she can hear muffled violin music.
Slightly floored by a number of factors—not limited to Dorothea's fluency in Japanese, her apparent age (several years older than Ryouko, probably a grad student), and how stunning the young woman is—Ryouko stares for a hot second before stammering, "Y-yes, nice to meet you! Your Japanese is amazing."
Dorothea laughs quietly, exposing bright white teeth. "Thank you! I've been studying it for about eight years, but it's nice to hear that from a native speaker. Anyways-"
Suddenly, a door opens in the background, and Ryouko does another double take as fluent...is that Russian?...comes through. Her jaw drops further when Dorothea frowns, turns, and responds in kind before grabbing a pair of headphones from the desk next to her and tosses it at the newcomer.
Looking a little cross, Dorothea gestures at her laptop and Ryouko, who blinks uncertainly, but the older student's admonishing tone doesn't seem to be directed at her.
Without warning, a head of black with a dash of white pops into view behind Dorothea's chair, and her eyes widen as she meets a bright, glacial blue gaze.
"Sorry," he says in perfect English, his voice soft but sincere.
Heat rushes into her face; somehow, between her conscious mind and her unconscious autopilot, she manages to come up with, "I-it's okay!"
The young man, who looks to be around her age, just blinks and then shuffles out of the room, shutting the door behind him, and Dorothea shakes her head in equal parts annoyance and fondness.
"Sorry. It'll probably happen again sometime," she says dryly, turning back to Ryouko. "Price of living with four other people."
Ryouko takes notes as Dorothea walks her through the university's online interface, tells her about clubs and organizations, and shows her how to access a bunch of other resources. They get three more interruptions from Dorothea's three other housemates, although Ryouko is too busy being confused by how two grad students, two freshmen, and a professor are all living under the same roof to be annoyed.
All the while, though, her attention keeps drifting back to the boy with the blue eyes, and at the end of their zoom meeting, she finally gathers the courage to ask about him.
"Oh, that was just Yuliy. He's a bit of a quiet one, as you could probably tell. He's a freshman this year, like you. Also undecided major, so maybe you'll have classes together."
Ryouko's confusion as to how they appeared to be living together when Yuliy looked so much younger, not to mention completely unrelated to Dorothea, at least by blood, evidently shows on her face.
"It's a long story," Dorothea says with a grin. "And-"
A muffled screech that sounds suspiciously like it was from that violin she's been hearing makes her jump, and Dorothea rolls her eyes skyward.
"Philip," she says by way of explanation in a long-suffering tone. "The blond kid. He hasn't been taking the stay at home order very well."
She chuckles awkwardly, torn between amusement and sympathy. "Me neither. I was all ready to move too…"
"Don't worry about it. You'll get your chance to," Dorothea reassures, and Ryouko can't help but feel a little reassured by her confidence.
o0o0o
"I told you not to interrupt me when I'm zooming."
"You're set up in the kitchen! Am I supposed to starve or something?"
Dorothea rolls her eyes, closing her laptop with a snort of amusement. "Don't be so dramatic."
Head stuck halfway into the pantry, Fallon's muffled voice complains, "I have a right to be dramatic if you won't even let me get myself some snacks."
"I beg to differ, especially if you're knocking half the things in the kitchen to the floor and making a racket," she snarks back, standing up and stretching. "Did you get it sorted out with that school? The one you were supposed to be volunteering at?"
Fallon pops back out of the pantry with the cookie tin and the coffee. "More or less. It really sucks that grade school kids have to do this all virtually. I know the kids back home aren't happy about it, but at least they have each other." He pauses. "Which may or may not be a good thing, in terms of maintaining everyone's sanity, now that I think about it…"
Footsteps come pounding down the stairs as Philip chimes in uninvited.
"Here," he says shortly by way of greeting, dropping a flash drive by Dorothea's laptop. "And you should feel bad for me! I'm the one stuck living with you guys for at least another whole semester! Finally thought I was gonna get out of this place."
His complaining and waffling just elicits another eyeroll from Dorothea, and a grin when he's too slow to dodge Fallon as he ruffles his hair, ignoring his indignant squawking.
"Anyways!" the blond exclaims crossly, dodging around the island counter while frantically smoothing down his hair. "If the house is basically gonna be our classroom for the next four months, we should at least have some kind of system in place."
He has a fair point. None of them like studying in their cramped bedrooms, which are the only places they're guaranteed privacy from each other. It was never a problem before, with Willard, Dorothea, and Fallon actually commuting to college while Philip and Yuliy were still in high school. If they're all going to be staying home all semester, though, a good start to them not collectively losing their minds (and/or driving each other insane) would be establishing boundaries of some sort.
"Dibs on the kitchen," Dorothea says immediately, and both boys turn on her with indignant expressions; the kitchen, of course, houses most of the food and, more importantly, the coffee machine.
"No fair!" they both complain in unison, and she grins like the cat who ate the canary.
"Too bad. It's the law of dibs," is all she has to say, and they subside reluctantly. They all know the law of dibs is absolute and sacred.
"Then I call dibs on the living room," Fallon says quickly, and Philip throws his hands up in the air in frustration.
"You guys got all the good places!" he growls, pouting.
He quickly dodges Fallon as he tries to pat his head; unfazed, the ginger simply says, grinning, "Then you gotta react faster next time, kid."
Philip crosses his arms with a surly expression; he almost resembles the grade school kids at the school that Fallon volunteered at for a few months last year, except with even more of an attitude.
"What are we talking about?" a new voice inquires softly.
"Our study places in the house," Dorothea responds promptly as Yuliy shuffles into the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffee.
"Dibs on the patio."
Both freshmen pause, turning to glance at each other when they spoke in unison. Bright blue locks with cyan, neither one willing to give ground in this staring contest of wills-
"It's strangely quiet in here for once," remarks a dry voice, and Yuliy blinks, glancing up as Willard walks in.
"They both called dibs on the patio for their study space," Dorothea explains promptly, wearing a similar expression of amusement.
The archaeology professor has always had his own small office, so he doesn't have to worry about this. Indeed, he seems more amused than anything by his charges' predicaments.
"Well, there's an easy solution to this," he says, also making a beeline for the coffee machine.
Philip starts nodding. "You're right…" He whirls around to face Yuliy, hands flying into position. "Rock paper scissors! Best out of three!"
Willard blinks. "I was going to say, just flip a coin-"
"You're on," Yuliy declares, rising to the challenge with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.
Fallon starts chanting, "Fight, fight, fight!", and Willard sighs.
This is going to be a long semester.
o0o0o
When Dorothea walks into the kitchen for breakfast, Philip chokes half to death on his coffee in a fit of laughter until a grinning Fallon thumps him on the back so hard he nearly faceplants into his breakfast. Yuliy looks up, appearing mildly more awake and less like a zombie now, before going back to mechanically eating.
"Well, thanks," Dorothea says, wrinkling her nose at them in mystification as she grabs her coffee mug, "good morning to you gentlemen too, I suppose…"
Eyes still streaming, Philip clears his throat, the sound of which vaguely resembles a jammed lawnmower, and stands to go wash his plate, studiously avoiding looking at Dorothea. When he looks up, his facade crumbles entirely and he devolves into a giggling fit.
"Come on, Yuliy-" Giggle. "I still have to do that—that-" Another gigglesnort. "-that stupid club extravaganza thing-" Snort. "-and you're doing it with me-"
Yuliy scowls at his cereal. "I'm not doing clubs."
"Yes you are-"
"I don't want to," he mutters petulantly.
"Well, you're not leaving me to do this by myself, so help me—hey, get back here!"
Willard pinches the bridge of his nose as Yuliy sprints out of the kitchen, Philip hot on his tail, taking with them all of the professor's will to do anything but go back to bed. Already starting to develop a headache, Willard clears his throat as he turns his attention back to Dorothea, and his headache promptly intensifies. He has long since come to a weary acceptance of the fact that he's the only one in this house who's wearing anything but pajamas twenty-four seven anymore...but still.
"Did you, ah…" He gestures. "Forget something this morning?"
Her brow furrows in confusion, and she looks down, and then back up, staring owlishly at him as if he's the crazy one here. "No. Why?"
He looks at her, and decides it's way too early in the morning for this. "...You have that formal interview today, right?"
"Yes…" she trails off, drawing the syllables out as she fills up her coffee and still looking at him like he's the crazy one. "Hence this." She waves her hand in front of her face, framed by her dark, neatly brushed hair and decorated with light makeup. "And the blazer."
He gives up. "Your pajamas."
He has to admit, she pulls it off decently, the same way she pulls off most outfits with minimal effort. That being said, the neat blazer top over a white dress shirt without a single wrinkle in them, paired with her rainbow Nyan cat fleece pajama bottoms and a huge pair of fluffy puppy themed slippers, do not make his headache any better.
To top it all off, Dorothea apparently doesn't see anything wrong with this picture at all.
"What's the problem?" she asks, waving a hand with a careless grin. "They're only seeing my top half. We be zoomin', remember?"
This online school is going to be the death of him, Willard thinks to himself as he drags a hand down the side of his face, staring listlessly out the window.
Fallon, who can often be mistaken for drunk if it's before ten o'clock in the morning, cackles.
"We do be zoomin'!" he crows with an unreasonably happy expression, entirely too loudly for eight thirty AM.
Between Philip and Fallon, Willard has no idea which one started saying that phrase, but it's caught on, unfortunately, and for Willard, who had to get Dorothea's help to find the unmute button once, hearing those words makes him feel like he's aging ten years each time.
See, nothing stops their chaos :D Man, I miss these dorks XD Although I'm working on other stuff too, so I think this was mainly just me popping my head back into the fandom to say hi for a sec :')
Philip bugging Yuliy about doing clubs was very much a real life experience lmao XD (I was Yuliy)
Hope y'all and your loved ones are staying safe still :)