(A/N: She's alive!

I'm kinda tired of long A/N's, and I'm sure you're more so, so I'll try and make these the last lengthy ones:

Yes, it has been well over a year since my last update, which is something I never thought I'd say. I'd like to think I'm a good writer, but I'm certainly not worth this long a wait. I am so very, deeply sorry for that. This'll be my last apology. Not necessarily because I'll be updating regularly or anything like that—it seems every time I mention a goal or something to someone, the motivation to work on it lessens—but because with how often I've said it + the results, it really sounds insincere.

While I won't make any more false promises or anything like that, I'm turning 20 in less than a month, so I'd like to think I've matured somewhat. We'll see what that means for the future.

But for now, here's chapter 7: essentially, a quilt of loosely related scenes of the rest of the boys' break. And there are Gakushuu and Karma interactions, I promise! Just, nearer to the end.

(Also—the fact that Gakushuu's birthday is/was a Saturday this year was very much a big motivator for updating today))

Gakushuu rubbed the towel against his face. He sighed, opening his eyes, glancing up at the mirror. It was nice, not needing to take multiple showers in one day. He could go back to just rinsing his face in the morning. Back to his regularly scheduled, well, schedule. Ah, it's good to be back.

His eyebrows twitched. Well, not quite.

The teenager opened up his medicine cabinet. As always, he took out the large, white bottle. Twisting the cap off, he took his two pills for the day and placed the bottle back in its assigned spot. Then, his eyes shifted a little, to a smaller, thinner bottle, dark translucent blue in color. He took a capsule out, dry-swallowing it just as he did the first two.

That was what was included in his morning routine for a few days now. To be honest, he barely noticed the change, even on day one of the prescription. In the end, it was just one more pill. He probably wouldn't even bat an eye if he had to take several more—other than opening all those bottles. Pills were easy, after all. Just pop them in, and they're down the hatch in less than a second.

No chewing required. But his recent aversion was starting to die down, too.

When he returned the blue bottle, he stopped, staring at it curiously. There were still quite a few capsules left, but he would probably only need a portion more. What did people do with leftover prescriptions, he wondered. Did they just leave them there? Throw them out?

Gakushuu shrugged. He could find out later.

Gakushuu was sitting in the study, not studying. And that irked him. Sure, several days ago, he was in this same exact spot, just reading about, finishing up a novel on his own time. But that was it: his own time. He had decided to read a novel instead of working on anything; he chose to take a break. Now, he basically had no choice.

Gakushuu flipped the page, and he barely finished the first sentence when he decided to glare at the innocent parchment. All those paragraphs, all those words, those letters, punctuation…

Not a waste of time, he closed his eyes, reminding himself. He needed this. He needed to relax.

And yet, one of his legs couldn't stop shaking, itching him to just close the book, set it aside, accomplish something.

And clearly, this was causing him some sort of stress, no? Would it not be better to just be productive, be useful? When that caused him so little mental frustration? After all, what was relaxing? Who was to deem what was and what was not? Relaxing: so subjective, so relative—

Gakushuu took a deep breath, held it for several seconds, then exhaled into a deep sigh. No, he wasn't about to go down that train of thought. It would be far less productive than the reading itself.

And it wasn't as though Gakushuu didn't accomplish something: he had finished the first novel since and several novels leading up to this current one. That had to account for something.

Amethyst continued from where it left off. Gakushuu's leg stopped vibrating. But that was replaced instead with the restless thrumming of his left hand's fingers.

Tap, tap, tap.

How did people do this?

Gakushuu was browsing through his closet, trying to find a shirt that pleased him. His hair was still a little damp from his shower, and he was already dressed in his pajamas. The task was not a priority—he was just getting tomorrow's clothes ready for tonight. He'd usually do that the morning of, but it seemed like Gakushuu had all the time in the world now. He wasn't quite ready to clock out yet.

So he methodically slid shirt by shirt, hanger by hanger, giving each piece a brief up-down-up glance in between. What to wear, what to wear…?

The strawberry blond had just decided he wasn't interested in wearing a dark grey polo, when his hand automatically went to get a hold of the next shirt. But mere inches away from the fabric, his outstretched fingers twitched. He tilted his head, already registering the top but not yet fully processing it. It wasn't a shirt but a blazer. His uniform's blazer.

Gakushuu took the jacket off the rack, his free hand steadying the garment for his eyes. He wasn't mistaken—the black accents were all there. Slight perplexion adorned his features.

Hmm. What was this doing here?

Usually, Gakushuu kept all the pieces that made up his uniform folded up in his dresser. Easier access for something he wore so often and routinely. To find it here…Must've been another slip-up.

Gakushuu shook his head, a small, somewhat amused smile now forming—at this point, they seemed kind of funny now. Maybe it was a way for his mind to keep up with all these slight mistakes.

He walked out of the closet. On his small journey to his dresser, the teenager thought of when he last wore the grey jacket. It had been over a month ago, and it'd be a month or two until he finally would reequip it on the daily.

At this point, Gakushuu was opening the drawer that held the rest of its identical brethren. Of course he owned multiples. One never knows when they could come in handy. And speaking of…

Another thought crossed his mind: he wondered, as he started to fold his blazer, if Karma would also attend Kunigigaoka. Sure, he was a relative to the chairman, but that meant zilch. It was a prestigious academy, and there were several other substitute establishments in reasonable range. Not just anyone could waltz right in there.

Family meant nothing. Especially when Gakuhou was concerned.

So would Karma attend the same school? Were preparations already made for the transfer exam? How high would he score—would he even pass?

Should he ask?

Gakushuu blinked.

Ah, whatever.

The folded-up blazer was now sat perfectly along with the rest in the drawer. He closed it.

As Gakushuu walked down the pavement, there was a slight bounce to his step. It was almost like he was on a high. Well, those were definitely overstatements, but he was…pleased with himself.

He was on his way back from another student council meeting. The days leading up to it had brought a bit of worry to the strawberry blond, a bit of anxiety, he supposed. Before that, he had almost forgotten about the previous meeting. It wasn't until there were a few days left for the next one that he was reminded of it, that a creeping worry grew:

There was a chance his peers had noticed. Even worse, there was a chance that they might even mention it—bring it up for those unaware to become aware. Of course, with the fever all but gone now and Gakushuu's state of mind almost completely returned to normalcy, he also thought, So what?

So what if they noticed? So what if it was brought up? Why was he worried about his reputation? Would it not be more realistic for them to assume it was just an off-day—which it was, but nothing more? Not Aha! Now we know what he's really like! That he's just pretending! Wouldn't the people who had come to that conclusion be the irrational ones? Really, it was nothing to be worried about.

And yet, a teeny part in his mind had its doubts. And the closer the hour came, the more vocal this minority became. By the time he had arrived on campus, made his way towards the meeting room, he mentally repeated his wishes over and over again. Almost like a mantra: Please don't bring it up; Please don't bring it up; Please don't bring it up.

But his worry was for naught. From the meeting commencing, to it ending, to him saying his goodbyes—no one had mentioned a single thing about it. Everything ran smoothly, like silk.

Everything really was returning to normal.

A boost to his ego, for sure. In most scenarios, that was probably the thing he least needed, but as of late, it was a very welcome feeling.

Gakushuu had returned home from cram school. Just like always, he'd set his bag aside, as well as his shoes. And just like always, when he'd concern himself with the latter, he noticed Karma's shoes, the pair he had arrived in.

The presence of them was never an oddity, as Gakushuu would always see them there whenever he came back to the house. And yet, as he made his way to the kitchen, the boy thought about them, what the sight of them meant.

It seemed as if his cousin would never go out, and other than frequenting the living room and kitchen from time to time, his usual absence led Gakushuu to believe the elder would just spend all day cooped in his room. And doing what? Gakushuu recalled the time he came back from his hospital visit, remembering Karma was on a console of sorts.

Video games, huh? But was that all?

Of course not, Gakushuu thought as he opened the fridge door. Just because it didn't seem like Karma did much, the strawberry blond knew Karma at least would go "grocery" shopping sometimes. And it wasn't just the fish he got that one time.

Gakushuu stared into the fridge. Before Karma's arrival, the cold storage unit was basically empty. Over the past couple of weeks, however, Gakushuu would open it to find something new added—seemingly every time. Not cluttered or anything like that, but the fridge was getting filled up a tad. Mainly, with sweets. And peculiarly, Gakushuu noticed, a good portion in the colors pink and red.

It would seem his cousin liked the flavor strawberry.

Gakushuu was just finished pouring curry onto his rice. He picked up his plate, along with a glass of water, and went over to the dining room. Karma was already sat there, in the seat next to Gakushuu's instead of the one right across—that seemed to be the elder's permanent spot now.

Gakushuu carefully placed his plateful and glass onto the wood, making sure not to spill. While having his cousin in close proximity was a little awkward—especially when no words would be exchanged; though, they would eventually partake in small conversations quite a few times—Gakushuu noted it wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as when he was with his father. Perhaps the younger would be better off eating alone, but this felt like a much better option than the previous aforementioned.

And at this point, it was beginning to feel like the norm. Because of that, the redhead's presence wasn't all that unpleasant.

Gakushuu was just getting used to it.

"You really don't mind eating that every day?"

The strawberry blond had just taken in his second bite when Karma piped up. Gakushuu stopped chewing, only for a moment, and glanced at the other. Karma, sans curry and rice, was instead enjoying a cup of sweetened yogurt—the flavor wasn't surprising.

Gakushuu swallowed before responding, but he had only shaken his head. Gold lingered, awaiting a more substantial answer.

"I guess I'm just used to it," he shrugged.

"Wouldn't that be the problem, though? Aren't you bored of it?"

"No?"

The redhead hummed, then took a spoonful of his yogurt. Gakushuu felt compelled to explain himself more.

"I mean, breakfast is simple, and lunch is usually more varied. My father cooks dinner, and that's what he chooses to make. I just, I guess I'm used to it."

Gakushuu took another bite, ruminating more on Karma's question, especially since there wasn't a reply.

"Why? Is it bad?"

And the strawberry blond already knew the answer: of course not. One would have to be a very picky eater to say otherwise, but maybe Karma was that picky eater. Maybe he could genuinely call Gakuhou's food bad for once. Maybe.

It didn't matter if Gakushuu disagreed—it would just be nice to hear. So he waited for the other's answer.

"No, it's not that."

A bit of a disappointing answer, but not an unexpected one.

"It's just…most people would be tired of that."

There were a few clinks of a spoon against china, scrapes of another against plastic, before Gakushuu realized that Karma had ended the conversation…which he had started.

Ah, well. Gakushuu decided to pose his own question.

"So, you cook?"

Again, the answer was obvious, but he was curious to know to what extent. He noticed Karma sat the teeniest bit straighter. At first, that confused the younger teenager, before the dots connected.

Right—parents. Parents cook. Parents teach how to cook. Karma's parents, deceased, probably taught him. But honestly, if he hadn't wanted this question to be brought up, he wouldn't have centered a conversation around food in the first place.

"I…dabble."

"You don't talk much, do you," Gakushuu asked rather bluntly. At that, gold eyes narrowed.

"It's a hobby of mine, I guess. When you don't want to eat store-bought ramen all the time, you learn things."

There. Happy? his expression seemed to say.

"Your parents didn't cook?" It came out before Gakushuu could remind himself. Karma rolled his eyes, and gold stayed to the side.

"They were busy."

"Oh…"

Busier than Gakuhou?

"And they liked eating at restaurants. Anyway, you said your dad cooked? You don't?"

Gakushuu blinked.

"I've done it a few times, but I have better things to do."

"So what I'm hearing is, you're no good." It was a statement, not a question.

Gakushuu scowled, particularly at Karma's coy smirk—pretending to hide it behind his spoon while also making it obvious.

"No, I'm sure I'd be better than you."

"Oh? Wanna put it to the test then?"

"I don't think I need to. With taste buds like yours," Gakushuu eyed the yogurt cup, "I think the results are rather obvious. And again—I have better things to do."

"That's a rather long-winded way of saying no. And considering your tastes…"

"Considering mine?"

"That's like the pot calling the kettle black, no?"

"That's an apples-to-oranges comparison."

"Mm-hm."

"Mm-hm, indeed. I'm glad that you agree."

Karma looked at Gakushuu, unimpressed and yet amused, as he placed his spoon yet again into his mouth. Except, it was solely metal this time. He blinked, looking down into the cup. Done already?

"Well," Karma stood up. "I'm off to get another cup," he announced. Not that Gakushuu had asked.

"Want me to get you one?"

Gakushuu stared at him blankly. After a blink or two of nothing, the elder then held a hand up to his ear. "Sorry, didn't catch that."

Blond brows bunched.

"No," he enunciated.

"Your loss." And with that, the redhead disappeared into the kitchen.

Amethyst stayed at the entrance for a few seconds before their gaze straightened. Gakushuu rolled his eyes, exhaling a small sigh. How irritating…but not necessarily tiring either?

He would have to think about that.

His eyes returned to his plate. Gakushuu was a bite or two away from getting done, yet he didn't feel like getting up just yet.

"Do you really have to inspect me?" Karma asked, side-eyeing his cousin.

He was standing in front of a mirror, dressed in one of Gakushuu's uniforms—er…well, it was now his, wasn't it?

Gakushuu was off to the side, arms crossed, observing. His curiosity regarding Karma's education had long since been answered—when he was told to give the elder a uniform by his father. Karma seemed to fit into it nicely.

The strawberry blond ignored the question.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

Gakushuu made eye contact with Karma through the mirror.

"Well, how does it feel?"

Karma's hands were now in the pants' pockets. Using his elbows, he stretched the blazer's fabric. He shrugged.

"Isn't this a bit too stuffy?"

Outwardly, Gakushuu's expression remained the same. Inwardly, however, he was skeptical. The suits he had lent to Karma a few weeks ago suited him just fine, jackets and all. But he wasn't Karma, and this blazer was different, so how could he tell for sure?

"Is the rest fine?"

Another shrug.

"Sure."

"That's good. And if it really doesn't fit," the younger of the two started, holding out his hand, prompting Karma to unbutton it, "we can just order you a new blazer. After all, you won't be needing it for a while."

Karma handed him the jacket, but Gakushuu wasn't quite done with him just yet.

"Also, I've been wondering…which class were you placed in?"

Karma blinked, his lips almost forming the first letter…before he decided instead to smirk. He shrugged for the nth time that day.

"You'll find out tomorrow."

(A/N: Alas, you won't, though I'm sure the answer's obvious. It was a bit puzzling working through how I wanted them to interact in this chapter—how friendly, how distant, how egg-shelly, how "snarky", y'know? I hope I did well balancing that out, especially since my "beta-reader" has yet to read it (Got it done too late, oops)—particularly with the dining room scene. Do let me know ('cause, as always, constructive criticism is mighty appreciated).

I doubt it, but if anyone's been reading this since the beginning, ooh, boy, do I not deserve you nor your patience. If you're still reading this, or just found it, thank you very much! I very much appreciate all of you! I'd work on this story even if no one was reading it, but the fact that y'all are makes me really happy and is a great source for inspiration! Thank you yet again!

(Also, just in the case you're curious about my flower prompts, I should probably mention here: it's not an abandoned project! I'm still working on them—I just gotta sort myself out and get enough written before I start publishing them) ~Thorn)