"How has your first day been? :)"

The notification of Makoto's message popped up in the corner of Haru's laptop screen. It drew his attention away from the essay he'd started to write, back to his best friend. How had his first day been?

With an unintentional groan, Haru stretched; he hadn't realised just how creased he'd been while he'd been leant over his laptop, but the clicks and snapping sounds in his back and shoulders made a grimace of distaste cross his lips. Note to self: buy a better desk chair.

His first day at college had been wholly uneventful. People had prepared him for the most exciting moments of his life to date; parties, new friends, groups and clubs and wild nights out.

No.

Upon arriving at the dorm, Haru had been relieved to find that his room was on the fifth, and highest floor of the building. Less noise. Fewer distractions. Fewer people in general. He'd been less than pleased to learn, however, that he would be sharing a room with somebody else.

Why did college feel the need to make its students share rooms with other people? Haru would never understand. He merely hoped that his roommate was at least amicable. Maybe he could ignore them.

Makoto's voice sounded in his head at the mere thought, however:

"It might be nice for you to meet somebody new! Who knows? You might become friends-!"

Haru closed his eyes and begged the Makoto inside his head to be quiet. He was filled with unwelcome advice even when he was just a figment of Haru's imagination.

The freestyle swimmer pulled his phone out of his pocket, finding the time to be a few minutes past midnight, and opened Makoto's messages.

"Just been working." He sent a message back, and received a response almost instantly.

"You spent your first day of college… working? But, classes haven't even started yet!" He could almost hear Makoto's disapproval through the screen.

"I had summer work."

"I thought you would've done that already!"

"It'll be fine."

Makoto took a moment to respond. "Well, have you at least met other people from your dorm?"

"One of them. In the kitchen. Seemed boring."

"Everyone's boring to you, Haru…"

That brought the smallest of smiles to his lips.

Haruka put his phone back in the pocket of his sweatpants and looked around him. The room itself was boring. He supposed he liked that; no unnecessary decorations, or bright, gaudy colours. White walls and a dark blue carpet met his eyes, with curtains of the same colour that could be draped across the wide window that took up the centre of one wall. On either side of it was a bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a desk, a chair... One of everything imaginable, for each of the room's residents. Haru sighed yet again at the thought of living with someone else.

Well, at least they haven't shown themselves yet. Perhaps they'd dropped out. He could dream.

The curtains were still open. Haru stood, hearing all of his bones protest, and walked to the tall window. Quiet sounds of life could be heard from outside; the calls of students across the campus - the music from the bar a couple of buildings away. He stood looking out at it all: the orange of the street-lamps and buildings in the distance looking like pinpricks against the sky, with tiny silhouettes of people walking below. It was somewhat pleasant…

Until the sound of a key scratching at the door made Haru turn.

The roommate. Why?

Haru wondered who his 'new friend' could be. The rest of the dorm, for the entirety of the day, had been quiet; he'd heard a couple of other voices, but had only seen one other person in the kitchen - a beefcake of a boy who looked like he'd be far more interested in football than his studies. Haru hadn't said hello.

When at last the door stopped rattling so vigorously, instead bursting open, the light from the corridor beyond threatened to blind Haru. As he squinted, retinas searing, he heard a mumble.

"Damn, 's dark…" The masculine voice sounded slurred, but somehow, the tones to their voice were light and attractive. They ruined it at once, however, by singing. A cheery, celebratory song in a language that was not Japanese, but instead…

Their English words were twisted handsomely by their accent; it was harmonious, and flowed beautifully with their words despite their terrible singing voice.

The light was switched on, and the door was slammed shut. As Haru's eyes fought to adjust once more to the harsh light, the figure before him whirled around, their features finally coming into view.

He didn't look particularly special; pale, slightly olive-toned skin reflected the light - a heart-shaped face with a sharp chin and a jaw that was shadowed slightly by the beginnings of facial hair. With a long, straight nose and cunning, grinning eyes, he wasn't particularly attractive… but the dashing, sharp-toothed smile he wore suggested he thought otherwise.

He donned a sleek, black leather jacket over a thin, grey v-neck shirt - one that was cut so low it revealed hints of his fine, red-maroon chest hair. His hair was the same colour - straight, cut down to his jaw, and styled back from his face so as to look a little windswept; he ran a hand through it as his eyes met Haru's own.

And he screamed. A panicked yelp, with a slight giggle at the end to indicate relief. He giggled something in English, before his words became Japanese once more. "You scared me!" he laughed before kicking off his shoes. "So, you're my new roommate, then?"

He's drunk, Haru realised with a swell of exasperation. He gave nothing in response - merely watched as his roommate shrugged off his coat, looked around the room with it, and then just dropped it to the floor.

"Oh!" He grinned as his drunken eyes spotted Haru's bed upon the side of the room he'd claimed. "You've even made my bed for me! How kind," he sneered, a grin of straight white teeth beaming out. He hiccupped, tripped over to Haru's bed, held out his arms almost as if to dive, and let himself fall face-first into the sheets.

Haru stared at him for a moment in disbelief. "Hey," he said, padding through the room and coming to his side. "Hey?" But the redhead was dead to the world.

Haru could merely blink. He wanted to be irritated - to be annoyed, and grind his teeth, and throw the other man from his bed. He'd known him for all of twenty seconds, and he'd already passed out on Haru's bed after inviting himself to it.

But… he couldn't. Something within Haru's chest prevented it. Instead of anger, he felt a calm. Instead of irritation, he felt a relief.

What… is this? It was a sensation like nothing else. As if the man effused a sort of aura - a feeling that cooled Haru's blood and lulled him into tranquility.

Everything was right.

Never before had Haruka felt the satisfaction at completing a jigsaw puzzle, but he imagined this was what it felt like. A completeness - a wholeness. A hole that he'd never been aware of before in his heart had been filled, leaving a warm, pulsating feeling that made his eyebrows contort in concern as he looked down upon the passed-out man.

It panicked him a little.

What was happening? Why did he feel this way? All his life Haru had been used to emptiness. He'd never been the most emotional - certainly not outwardly - but his chest felt so full of all sorts of warmth it almost sent tears to burn his eyes. He blinked them back, and took a few paces backwards.

What had this man done? Had he brought something into the room with him? A drug to sooth Haru into a daze? To fog up his mind and make a stupefied smile cradle his thin, usually-emotionless lips?

Haru walked over to him; the air around him smelled good for a moment - like an alluring cologne - before he caught a scent of the alcohol upon his breath. But, it was nothing out of the ordinary - no strange, narcotic scent. He took hold of the man's shoulders either way, and heaved with all of his might, rolling the redhead over until he was on his back. His eyelids were open just slightly, but his eyes had rolled back in his unconsciousness.

And Haru could still not bring himself to be annoyed. He was worried - concerned. He wanted this man - this man whose name he didn't even know - to be okay. He cared for him, deeply. Felt an ache in his full, overflowing heart as he fretted. He did not know why, but he was compelled to help.

He tapped gently against the other man's eyelids with a fingertip. Discontent noises sounded from his throat as he screwed up his face, opening bleary eyes. And those eyes were beautiful. Positively scarlet: they were a rich, full red, with flecks of gold and brown and sunset orange around the pupil. Like a fire: sleepy, smouldering embers waning in his daze.

Haru stood up straight over him. "You're alive." He could not comprehend anything more. As he looked into those eyes, he felt a warmth once more. He did not even know how cold he'd felt before, but now it was as if his blood was a comforting mulled wine, cradling his once-empty body into a serene sort of rapture.

The other man nodded slightly. "I… know you," he said.

It sent a spark through Haru's veins.

"Those eyes, like oceans… Have… we met?"

Haru felt his lips part. Yes. They must have met before - must have known each other from somewhere. The eyes were so familiar - his voice like an old song from his childhood that had been stuck in his head for years.

It came to him.

He did not know from where, but the desperate fingers of his memory reached deep, and grasped a name. A name that seemed just as much a part of him as his own - a name that felt so right, like slipping into the arms of a lover and never letting go.

"Rin," he breathed.

The eyes of fire widened, the flames igniting with a roaring passion. Rin sat up, face serious, and his lips parted.

"Haru."