Author's Note: Up until recently, I'd barely manage to churn out 500 words a day. Having picked up fanfiction again, that's shot right back up to my old pace. It feels good to create so much.

I've been re-reading Rosario + Vampire, mostly for fact-checking but also to reconnect with the source material. I forgot how much fun the first season was.

Anyway. Chapter Five! Enjoy.


Kia's snapping fingers severed Ikko's distraction, bringing him crashing back to the café with a yelp. "There you are. Space case."

He apologised into his coffee. Of the many and varied restaurants, convenience stores, outlets and cafés on the busy thoroughfare of Preternatural Street, they'd picked Kia's favourite – or, more accurately, Kia suggested her favourite and Ikko mumbled an automatic response. Café Black Cat read the sign adorning the front. "It can't be that bad."

"Huh?"

"Your G.T. exam. How could you have failed?"

"I didn't!" he replied, "I think. I don't think I did."

"What, then? What's got you a million miles away?"

Ikko made a non-committal whinge. Mizore's return heralded yet another first from the woman; a glare. Not for him, and not wrathful or envious like Masumi's, but vilest hatred for whomever had delayed her so. He feared for the life of the one who provoked it, but couldn't rightly talk about such a ferocious side to their homeroom teacher. "Adjusting," came the excuse, "Just adjusting. Hard to believe there's a place like this on-campus, y'know?"

"Quaint, isn't it?" Kia opened her arms out to the building proper. Sat on a leather sofa tucked into the back corner of the café, he craned his neck to see the rest of the modern space, complete with state-of-the-art coffee machines and baristas in full uniform. Music played quietly in the background. Part-timers, one and all spare the manager – he thought he recognised one of the men from his homeroom, though he couldn't tell for sure.

Kia sank a little more into her cushion, content in a way Ikko could only dream of achieving. "Used to cram here coming up to summer…"

"You? Cram?"

"What else? I don't have time to study normally." She laughed. "Well, I didn't. Masumi and club kept me pretty busy…"

Right. Masumi. Ikko latched onto that, if only to take him away from his own worries. "How did it go?"

"Eh…" she held her hand out level, then shook it. "It went."

"Was he mad?"

"Dunno. It's weird, y'know?" He didn't, but nodded anyway, "I spent so much time with him, and now it's over. Just gotta wait for the fallout."

"It happens," he offered, meek. She smiled at him, shuffled a little closer to the edge of her cushion, "I'm sorry."

"You're always apologising," she noted, "What have you got to be sorry for?"

"W-well, you had this stuff with Masumi just after everything – everything from last night. Must have been tough."

"That's hardly your fault," Kia blew on her cappuccino, "I'm the one who couldn't keep it in check. But… thanks."

"S'okay." Ikko took a sip. He wanted to know – his curiosity begged desperately for him to ask the question, but one session with Mizore had been enough to curb his instinct. Almost. "What are you- What're you gonna do now?"

"I'm here, aren't I? I promised I'd show you around." Kia reaffirmed. Her baby blues locked on the door, as if waiting for someone. "Masumi hated the music. Said it made him feel old."

"I like it," said Ikko, quick to turn her from an unpleasant subject, "It's classy."

"Right?" Kia laughed, briefly. He swayed slightly as she jumped from her seat. "S'cuse me for a sec."

"Kia?"

"Sorry," she sniffed, hurrying from the couch. "Sorry – just give me a moment."

She fled for the restroom. Ikko watched the door for a moment, wondering what it was about breakups that turned such bright people into rolling explosions of emotion. Reminded of Mizore, his wonderings turned to the deathly glare that followed her return. Had she remembered an ex? Encountered one?

Ikko hummed. Is that what Tsukune was to her? An ex? The last human at Yokai Academy. It held an undeniable air of romance, enough to make even him sigh, wistful, at the thought. Star-crossed lovers…

"What a day…" Kia murmured, rubbing her eyes and robbing him of his daydream.

"No kidding," she laughed. Ikko reached for a tissue.

"I'm good. Normally better than this, I swear," she reclaimed her cappuccino, throwing it back like a shot of alcohol. "I was kidding, by the way."

"Huh?"

"You are pretty cool. In your own way."

"What does that mean?"

"You gotta ask?" Kia rolled her eyes. They enjoyed a few moments in the quiet as she steadied herself, letting the wave of emotions from her day wash over. "Where are you from, Ikko?"

"Me?" He drained his coffee. "Uh- nowhere, really. Parents moved me around a lot. Cities, towns… I've lived in a lot of places."

"What for?"

"Work. They go where their careers take 'em." He laughed, dry. "Guess they finally got sick of transfer paperwork and dumped me here."

"Were you in a human school up 'till now?"

He nodded. "Never really settled anywhere."

"What did you tell your friends?"

"What?"

"Y'know, like… going to Yokai. Not exactly your typical transfer, is it?"

"Mm. I didn't."

Kia's brows shot up. "You just left?"

"No, no – I didn't, er. Didn't have friends to tell. I'd only been there a year."

She made a face, the kind he'd expect to see when one stumbled across a lost puppy. "Ikko…!"

"It's not that bad!" He assured, "I've got my games. I don't mind being on my own."

"That can't be true."

"It is!"

"Ikko, people don't mind being alone. No-one wants to be lonely. There's a difference!"

"I'm not lonely." He nodded in her direction. "Not anymore."

Her cheeks fought the streak of her tears and a quivering smile, flushing light pink. "Good answer. Very smooth."

They made small talk over the last of their drinks. Kia insisted on showing Ikko the rest of Preternatural Street, and so they made their way back out onto the main stretch. As they meandered in the direction of the shops, a hand seized Ikko's shoulder. He yelped, jumping away.

He recognised the teacher he'd nearly bumped into in the corridor. "Oh, Mr. Kotsubo!" Kia chirped, spinning in the direction of the noise.

"Tayama," the man withdrew his hand, scratching the back of his head. His frown didn't shift, giving his apology a strangely even undertone. "Sorry, kid. I didn't mean to scare you. It's Akada, right?"

"Sir. I-I mean yes, sir."

"You showing him around?"

"Yep!" Kia practically bounced, "What are you doing out here?"

"Actually – I came to see Akada, if you don't mind me stealing him for a moment." Kotsubo opened his arm in the direction they'd come from. Ikko looked across to Kia, who only shrugged.

"There's some clothes shops a few doors down. I'll wait for you?"

She skipped off, leaving Ikko alone with Kotsubo. "Let's not keep the lady waiting, eh?" Kotsubo suggested, guiding Ikko to a quieter alley just off the high street, around the corner from Café Black Cat. He came to rest against the wall, locking eyes with Ikko. Even relaxed, Kotsubo towered over him.

Ikko dug his hands into his pockets, averting his eyes. "Something I can help you with, sir?"

Kotsubo didn't answer straight away, simply staring the boy down. "How're you finding Yokai?"

"It's fine, sir. Fun."

"Must be difficult," he said, not once budging from his frown. "A new transfer amongst all these friendship groups. Must get lonely."

"It's only been a couple of days," Ikko mumbled, "There's time yet. Kia's nice."

"Tayama? Yeah, she's a good kid…" Kotsubo tipped his head to once side. His neck popped. "Miss Shirayuki treating you right?"

Ikko's gaze snapped to his. The reaction he'd hoped for, if the corner of his mouth gave anything away. "S-sir?"

"It's no secret she's looking after you whilst you adjust. I'm surprised they picked her, really. Freshly qualified…"

"She's good. Fine." He tried not to think about the G.T. classroom as he defended her.

Kotsubo smirked. "Listen, Akada. I won't mince words – we're both men here. You don't have to go along with her."

"Huh?"

"She's sweet on you, right?" Kotsubo lurched, drawing up to full height and advancing on Ikko. His voiced dropped, conspiratorial. "She always did move fast. Little lost transfer struggling in his new school… pulls at the heartstrings. She always did love a snowflake."

"I-I don't-"

"It's alright." Kotsubo leered, convincing Ikko that it was anything but. "I won't tell. Not too long ago, it was the other way around."

His mind swam. What did he mean? Kotsubo continued on before he could ask. His hand pressed down hard in Ikko's shoulder, causing him to buckle awkwardly to one side. "Sir…"

"Don't worry. You just tell me if it gets too much, alright? She's a volatile one. You've seen that much yourself, haven't you?"

Ikko babbled something that resembled a protest, faltering under the weight of Kotsubo's glare. "Thought so. So, if she does something you're not comfortable with…?"

"Sir-!" Ikko yanked himself away, panting heavily. He rubbed the shoulder Kotsubo nearly crushed, staring up at him with sheer panic. "I really don't know what you're talking about. Miss- Miss Shirayuki's just my teacher. My homeroom teacher. That's all."

Kotsubo's hand hovered where he'd placed it. He barely restrained a laugh, cracking horribly through his deadpan. "So that's how you want to play it? No worries. It's almost admirable." He stuffed his hands back in his pockets, turning back to the main street. "You go have fun with Tayama. My door'ss open when you need it, Akada – and you will need it, I guarantee that…"

He stalked off, looming above the crowd that parted around him. Only when he was certain Kotsubo was gone did Ikko let slip a hiss of pain, clutching his shoulder. Tears stung his eyes. He peeled back his shirt, feeling out what would surely be a wicked bruise in the morning. "What the hell…?"

"Ikko!" He jumped out of his skin, shoving his shirt back into place and shrugging his blazer on. Ruby hurried towards him, wearing a bizarre waistcoat and jeans number. She'd tied her ebon hair back in a shockingly long ponytail. "There you are- What are you doing in the alley?"

"N-nothing, Miss," he stammered. She smiled, simple and warm as ever.

"It's Ruby, remember? I'm not a teacher." Ruby reached out for his shoulder. He hissed and reflexively pulled back. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

A storm raged in him, muddling his senses. One clumsy connection with Mizore had sparked the ire of an iron-handed teacher. What had he done to deserve such a grilling? "I-I slipped. Got turned around, that's all. Kia walked off without me…"

"Is that all?" Ruby pressed, searching his eyes. His gaze ducked and weaved erratically, trying everything to keep from meeting them. He scrunched them shut, squeezing the tears back inside.

"Yes. I'm fine. I am."

Ruby exhaled through her nose. "Alright… well, get back onto the high street. Call Kia, if you can – it's not safe to be wandering out here alone."

Knowing exactly where she waited for him, Ikko made a show of taking his phone out. "I will. What are you doing out here, Ruby?"

Ruby tinted her smile with a knowing wink. "My job. Also shopping – but mainly my job."

She walked him back onto the high street before waving farewell. Having lost all appetite for exploration, or his appetite for anything beyond his room, Ikko braced himself for a disappointed Kia as he neared the clothing stores, spying her waving brightly from afar…


Mizore hesitated, knuckles an inch from the door. The hours between her confrontation with Kotsubo and now gave her time to think. Time to sit and stew, focus on her work, and finally cool off at the end of the day. She came to understand why Ruby spoke of Tsukune; after all, what better way to assure a human in a school for monsters than to share a success story? Never minding the details, the fact remained that a human attending Yokai survived long enough to graduate and find happiness. If that didn't reassure a soul as nervous as Ikko's, what would?

That just left Kotsubo, and the bile that such a thought sent gurgling through her. To speak so brazenly to a colleague, in earshot of a student! Not to mention all the scars his words dared to tear open. She scoffed. He had that way about him…

Her fingers stroked against the door. Mizore's mind began to shift. She could deal with Kotsubo. He didn't have a leg to stand on – wouldn't dare step up, given his past misdemeanours at Yokai. One more slip would see him fired, surely. He couldn't risk more than words. Mizore nodded, reaffirming her resolve. His words stung, of course – and the mood she'd returned to Ikko in had downright terrified the poor transfer. She could always apologise to him, try to make amends…

Ruby's door swung open. Dressed in a sheer nightie and pulling a ludicrously fluffy gown about herself, the woman stifled a yawn. "Are you going to come in, or are you going to keep muttering outside my room?"

Mizore flinched, jumping onto her back foot. "I wasn't muttering!"

Ruby rolled her eyes. She didn't bother stifling her yawn, ramming home the ungodly hour. "Come in…"

She mumbled her way through an apology as she wandered in. Ruby's slice of the staff dorm looked much like the others – an awkwardly wider-than-single bed, complete with desk and a studio kitchen. A simple bedside lamp filled the room with warm, dim light, just enough for reading or navigating in the early hours of the morning. It always smelled of burning incense, with a new flavour filling the air every time Mizore visited. She sniffed. "What is that?"

"Rosewood. You like?"

"Mm."

"I expected you earlier," Ruby huffed, putting the kettle on, "Drink?"

"Wine?"

"Wine?" She looked back from the kettle.

Mizore shrugged. "It's been a rough day."

"A rough day doesn't call for wine." Ruby tutted. "Gods above. Chamomile or peppermint?"

"Chamomile," Mizore muttered, scolded. She shrunk into her seat, crossing one leg over the other, and waited for Ruby to bring their mugs over, "What do you mean, you expected me?"

Ruby sighed as she pulled her chair around the table, bringing herself closer to Mizore. "You used to sneak in all the time in your third year. Figured you'd keep the trend, what with your new job. How's teaching?"

"Teaching's fine." Mizore filled her nose with the herbal tea, before taking a thoughtful sip. "It is what it is. Stick to the curriculum and keep the class on point until you find your feet."

"Sure. What about the rest of your job?"

At this, Mizore's shoulders slumped. Continuing the trend of her third-year visits, Ruby managed to hit the mark with one question. "You told him about Tsukune."

"I did."

"Why? Why would you do that?" Like Kotsubo before her, Ruby's words crushed Mizore's composure, causing her day to flood back in painful colour. "You knew Ikko'd ask about him!"

"Did he?" she tipped her head, taking a quiet sip.

"Of course he did!"

"Mizore-"

"What?"

"It's two in the morning."

She exhaled harshly. "Sorry."

Damn her patience. Ruby smiled, placed a hand on Mizore's knee. "I didn't know he'd ask, for the record. I didn't mention you at all."

"He put it together quick enough, once he got over his nerves."

"Anyone would." She wanted to correct her, but Ruby's every choice carefully soothed her. Mizore sulked over her tea. "How are you feeling?"

"Ruby-"

"I'm just asking. These are the only times you'll talk to me," Ruby, too, took a sit. Swaddled in her robe, it was a wonder she hadn't dozed off again, "The only time you'll talk to any of us, if I understand it."

"I was travelling," protested Mizore, "I needed space."

"That was three months ago. You've been preparing for work for the past month." Ruby counted them off on one hand. "What happened to the other two?"

"Ruby…"

"Not so much as a letter. We worry, you know?"

"Who sends a letter?" Mizore quipped, smirking over the lip of her tea.

"You know what I mean!" she giggled. "A call or a text. Anything."

"I text you."

"About your new job, yeah. What about the rest of your life?"

Mizore leaned back from her hunch. She stared at the ceiling – the same as hers, but… warmer, somehow. More homely, more welcoming. She considered burning incense in her room. "I visited mom."

"How is she?"

"Alright. Someone had to break the news to her."

"How did she take it?"

"She's a mom." Mizore shrugged. "She has her priorities, for all of her nagging."

Her voice emptied as she spoke, like pouring out a leaking vase to inspect the cracks. Ruby squeezed her knee, stroking gently. "Bad enough that Ikko got curious," Mizore continued after a long sigh, "Kotsubo reared his head."

"He spoke to you as well?"

"Yeah – did he speak to you?"

Ruby shook her head, pulling back to drink. "Ikko."

"Ikko? When?"

"When he was out with that girl. Kia?"

"What did he say to him?"

"I don't know. Spooked him, though. Wouldn't say a word to me. I only caught the end of it."

Mizore groaned. "I'll see if I can't get it out of him tomorrow."

"Don't push too hard. He's a scary guy, Kotsubo. What did he say to you?"

"Nothing new. Picking on me for doing my job."

"You know bullying's not tolerated, especially amongst the staff."

"If I kick off, it'll just get worse. He's a new man, remember?" Mizore rolled her eyes, thinking back to his apology. "Had to bend over backwards to keep his job. If I say anything, he'll double down on Ikko."

Ruby pondered over a drink, watching Mizore. The yuki-onna slumped against the table, tea forgotten. She buried her head in her arms. "I just wanted a job," she whined, "Not another human. Not Kotsubo, not this…"

"Yokai rarely gives people what it wants," said Ruby, "Not without them working for it."

"Tsukune got everything he wanted," she didn't need to see her face to know Mizore's pout. Ruby softened, reaching out to stroke a hand through Mizore's hair.

"You know how much that cost him."

"Yeah…" Tensing initially, Ruby's affections soon earned the woman a weary smile, "How is he?"

"Good. They're good. I'll tell them you're okay – but Mizore?"

"Hm?"

"This is the last time I'm telling them. You can't keep hiding."

"Hiding's my thing."

"Not from this. Not from us."

Mizore leaned back in her chair, curling inwards to pinch her brow. "I know…"

Ruby stretched out, rolling her head from side to side. It spilled long weaves of black hair over her. "Can I go back to bed now?"

"If you want." She didn't move. Ruby considered her.

"Do you want to sleep over?"

"What? No!"

"Then go on! Take that with you." Ruby ushered Mizore from her seat, bidding her goodnight with a tight embrace.

Finding it nearly impossible to frown after such a thorough mothering, Mizore retreated to her own room. Located on the opposite side of the hall, the stock furniture had been set out as a mirror to Ruby's. Unlike her desk, filled with books and a basic personal computer, Mizore arranged home comforts – a TV, still on the pause menu of her game. She set her mug down, picking up her controller and considering finishing the night as she started it. Such thoughts survived the first yawn, but not the second, and so she retired with the memory of rosewood and Ruby's gentler words carrying her off to sleep.


Ikko's second day of school passed with a blissful lack of excitement. Lessons came and went, he navigated the halls a little better, enjoyed lunch with Kia – and before he knew it he was walking back to the dorm, fielding his new friend's complaints. "It's just a reading assignment."

"Yeah, but it's work. How can you be okay with work?" Kia stressed the word like she'd developed an allergy to the concept. He could almost imagine the hives.

"It's, like… half an hour. If that."

"But it's the second day! We've been back, like… not even forty-eight hours."

"Then don't do it," he suggested, shrugging. Kia choked, struck by his blunt tone.

"Not cool! You're supposed to say 'We can do it together!'"

"Have you ever read stuff with people before?"

"Have you?"

Ikko shifted. "Not the point – do you remember anything about what you read?"

Kia paused. "So, there was an attempt at reading, but we… got distracted."

"By…?" Her cheeks flushed, and she laced her hands together.

"Stuff."

"Stuff." Ikko repeated, deadpan.

"You know – stuff!" She pushed him. As he recovered from his stagger, apologising to the couple she'd shoved him into, Ikko saw noticed a hulking figure stalking in the opposite direction of the students. Kotsubo. Their eyes met, and for one brief, gut-churning instant before he waved at Kia, Ikko swore he saw a monstrously mischievous smirk warping his placid features.

He walked past the pair, weaving around the students without so much as a word Ikko's way. His shoulder stung – he checked the purple splotch he'd masked with a t-shirt under his school shirt. "Anyway," Kia carried on, oblivious, "It's not due until next week. I'll do it later."

"Sure."

"Can I come bug you?"

His attention returned. "In the guy's dorm?"

"Oh, please – it's not that big a deal."

"What about the rest of your friends?"

Kia stumbled over her words. She pushed her fingers together. "They're kinda… hanging out with Masumi."

"Is that why you had lunch with me?"

She nodded. "N-not that they're better than you or anything, but- yeah… I don't want to be around him, and he's stuck to 'em like glue."

Ikko sighed. "Give me a couple of hours to knock this out."

"I thought you said it was half an hour's work?"

"Hey – I get distracted too."

Kia pulled a face. "Oh, I did not need to know that."

"What?" She laughed. Ikko's cheeks burned. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing! What you do in your room is your own business."

He couldn't comprehend why she didn't need to know about his playing video games, and so left Kia to her giggling. "I'll see you in a few!" she called. The stairs split part ways up, dividing the male and female wings. He took the left; she, the right. Ikko took the stairs two at a time on his way up to the sixth floor, seeing the elevator packed tight with chattering lads. Why had they put his dorm so far away from the others?

He decided it didn't matter. Sharing a kitchen with one other reclusive soul meant way more fridge-space; meant more ingredients; meant better food. As he pondered what to cook, Ikko nearly tripped over the parcel left in front of his door. Roughly wrapped in brown paper, the parcel practically opened itself when he picked it up. Two things fell out. The first thing, forming the bulk of the parcel, was a book. A bizarre thing, an old thing. Torn paper and odd ends stuck out from the spine, glued in and attached with haphazard care. A picture of a rabbit adorned the front, suited in theatre garb complete with ruffle, blowing into a trumpet. He turned it onto its back. No name, no title… Someone's journal?

His heart skipped as the second item solved the first's mystery. A note, handwritten in clumsy, spiralling cursive.

'Come see me. Cliffside, back of staff room. I'll tell you everything.'

M. Shirayuki…