Rori's Corner: Why, harro there, everyone. It's been...a few weeks, I dare say. Happy belated Saint Patrick's Day! Though I'm far from being Irish. Oho~

Don't worry, guys. Least you'll get is super slow-azz updates from me. I'm determined not to drop anymore of my ficcies. Especially the ones that store my converting-ism.

So, just a bit more to go until people drool over Kana/Shiki, eh? I'll be working on that, ushishishi~

*~&~*

Seven Days to Love

Day 1.5: Like a Child

"Like the white sky and the blue clouds
Yes, just smile like nothing is wrong"

*~&~*

He was just leaning on the balcony, blank eyes probing aimlessly over the courtyard of Cross Academy. His chestnut brown hair, soft to the touch and easily fondled, moved with the light-tempered breeze, and Shiki turned his lucid, irresistible pools of oceanic blue on the honey blond languidly standing beside him, his arms waving enthusiastically at a couple of females down below. Ichijo was relatively hyper as per usual, bestowing upon his adoring fans his undissipated warmth. He and Shiki were nearly polar opposites, but they got along well enough to be mistaken for other suggestive relationships.

Not that they paid attention to the gossips. At least, the introverted brunet didn't. Ichijo might've caught wind of the new rumors and whatnot, as was his personality to probe in such matters.

The latter was now looking at him with his usual vibrant smile. "Shiki, why don't you greet the girls? It's easy, just hold your hand up - "

"KYAAAAA!"

"Eeek!"

Shiki looked on without resisting when Ichijo gently took hold of his hand, warm fingers splaying over his skin as the bits of dim sunlight filtered onto his body, lighting up the blond's hair even more so that he appeared vivid enough to be Prince Charming. The girls were obviously delighted by this public display of outward "affection," as they would call it. Ichijo helped him move his hand in a puppet wave, he himself beaming warmly down at the swooning populace. Shiki gradually retracted his arm, staring pointedly and somewhat accusingly at the innocent blond.

"Ah, sorry, Shiki. I forgot you were shy – oops, I mean, dislike public attention. You forgot your History textbook!"

The brunet rolled his eyes just slightly, hand fluidly grasping the 700-page book as he turned back to the hallway brimming with sauntering students. It was at the end of the day, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of forgetfulness. He had finished off school today with something nagging him at the back of his mind, inducing his even more unfocused attention during his drowsing classes. Shiki unhurriedly dumped his books into his silver locker, retrieving the ones he needed for homework along the way. Rima had an early dismissal in the afternoon regarding her appointment with her new director on the topic of her next photo-shoot, and speaking of photo-shoots...

He shut his locker, reverting the hand back to zero just as voices among masses of other chatters came from behind him. All of a sudden, the only things he could hear were deafening squeals and excited murmurings.

"Kyaaa! Kaname-sama!"

"Kaname-senpai!"

"Eek?! What is Kaname-sama doing here?"

Shiki stuffed the last of his books into his bookbag, leaning on his locker as he did so. When he heard the audible mentioning of a certain pureblood, he glanced up and spotted the particular tall brunet, gorgeously perfect in all aspects, standing in the center of a hoard of fawning girls. Kaname was smiling benignly, hand grasping a book on the ancient texts of the vampiric age. His molten brown eyes roved over the hyperactive fans to end up melting into liquid, translucent blue. Shiki stiffened, hands going numb as the taller male strolled over, crossing the distance and the berth of path made by the vampiric crowd. There was a hushed silence, in which the brunet could hear his sporadically thumping heart pulsating in his ears.

Was the earlier encounter with the pureblood this filled with expectancy, suspense, and anxiety? Perhaps the audience made up the ninety percent source of tension.

Kaname stopped short of the latter, now at a comfortable distance from the brunet. He eyed Shiki steadily, head tilted just barely as he made for a slow, contemplative smile. It was somehow different than the ones he gave to the females, who were now trying to remain as quiet as possible. "It seems you have Miss Rousseau for History, Shiki."

The brunet stared, head slowly nodding. It suddenly felt like he was drugged; everything was pacing so slowly along. Shiki dropped his gaze to glance around at the busily scattered ladies, whose disguises were rather obvious with their constant leering at the pureblood and him. He refocused his attention on the brunet before him, struck with a realization that he still hadn't repaid the snacks prior. "This reminds me," he murmured absentmindedly as he started rummaging in his schoolbag, "the sushi this morning - "

There was a light chuckle, and a hand gently pushed his away from the zipper of the bag's side-pocket. "Ah..." Shiki started, momentarily confused when he met amused brown irises.

"There is no need," Kaname interjected calmly, heels turning so that the latter was faced with the back of his white uniform. The girls squeaked and quickly swiveled around, obscuring their faces in their open lockers. "I was wondering if we could go home together today."

"Today?" the model echoed stonily, uncomprehending while his feet followed the taller one's footsteps.

Kaname turned sideways, gracing the stoic latter with his sinfully deep orbs, which were frowning slightly in either question or disappointment. "Is today inopportune?"

Shiki dodged the imploring gaze, his eyes scanning the floor and following the pureblood's footfalls. Rather than saying 'inopportune,' he supposed his situation required a less grandiose description. Perhaps a better term to suffice would be 'bothersome.' When they exited the Academy and neared the artificial garden of violets and clovers, he said plainly, "I don't mind. However, there is a photo-shoot that I must attend today. If Kuran-sama has other activities..." he trailed off, looking instinctively up at the pureblood, and what stunned him was the captivating smile the vampire wore; it was breath-taking, it was brief, but it was there. Shiki averted his eyes, quickly accessing that his limo was here, parked on the road alongside the sidewalk.

"A photo-shoot? How interesting," Kaname remarked pleasantly. He was thoroughly intrigued by the shorter brunet, though he kept his curiosity as leashed as possible. It was yet dawn in this chase, and so keeping his expectations reigned in would offer less madness for when his interest was dulled in the future.

Shiki waited when the chauffeur stepped out of the metallic black car, bowing first in respect and then promptly throwing himself down at the foot of the pureblood. The chauffeur welcomed Kaname with grand words, a hand held to his chest as if pledging himself to loyalty. His speech then spiraled into a whole swearing of allegiance while proclaiming the start of the vampiric age and the purebloods' reign. They were finally led into the interior of the limousine when Shiki told his driver with a stone face that he would be late for the appointment if he were delayed any longer. And it was with this bluntness in the model's action that caused Kaname to let out an amused half laugh, which was luckily unheard by the brunet, who was being led into the limo.

Finally settled in the leather seats of the car, Shiki rested his head on the furniture, eyes staring vacantly out the glass window. Kaname was sitting formally across from him, leg crossed over the other as his finger thumbed through the contents of the Latin text. The pureblood looked noticeably less strained as he had back at the Academy, his eyes lacking in the slight frown and his lips not taut and professionally amicable. Shiki found the elder at this state of mind more welcoming and comfortable, not that he would've admitted it aloud.

"Did you know, Shiki, that purebloods attain their true mate for a predetermined reason?" Kaname's smooth voice broke the comfortable silence, carrying over the sounds of whirring engines to Shiki's ears. The latter's closed eyelids fluttered open delicately, peering in stunned assiduity, this being his first exposure to the information, at the pureblood's personal desire to affiliate with him.

"A predetermined...reason?" he echoed, voice absentmindedly unsure. Shiki watched silently as the elder gently closed the literature text, his endless, burnished brown eyes casting such a forlorn and detached expression under the minimal rays of sunlight filtering in that the model was bewitched into unguarded concern. He didn't even realize his very own eyes widening in shock due to the dangerously oppressive brunet across from him.

Kaname blinked, his rare instance of vulnerability diminishing as a fire would, blown by the wind. He took in the keen model seated on the leather furniture and bore a rather resilient crescent smile, smoothing out his display of emotions prior. His finger slid down the spine of the book absentmindedly as he explained, "Once a pureblood reaches the age of maturity, he will collapse into a state of pure bloodlust frenzy. To prevent such a humiliating incident along with potential massacre, the Vampiric Legacy makes it mandatory for all purebloods to attain a mate who will satisfy their thirst for blood, as such the only method to appease the demons inside."

Shiki shifted slightly, absorbing the given erudition with unease and the affirmation that the pureblood didn't think of this seven-day relationship with random girls as a mere game. It was a bit unnerving, now that he knew the real reason behind the weekly flings the other had in accordance. He wondered just how close Kuran Kaname was to the age of maturity, and at the thought, he was surprised at how much it shook him, from the tingling sensations crawling up and down his spine all the way to his quivering fingers clenching the leather seat.

Because, if Kuran Kaname were nearing the point of transition into a full-fledged pureblood, naturally symptoms of bloodlust would surface, right?

"Young master, Kuran-sama," the chauffeur's voice diverted his inner thoughts. "We are here at the Azalea Studio, promptly on time at three-thirty sharp. Young Master, hurry along now to prepare for the photo-shoot, and Kuran-sama, this way please."

There were two women who were waiting by the limo, and before Shiki had a chance to properly nod a departing means of rendezvous, they ushered him into the building. The last he saw of the pureblood was his being surrounded by the ogling staff members. That wasn't too shocking. Passing the familiar rooms for different settings and equipments, he found himself heading into the male changing room. The ladies handed him the garments for this week's magazine, dipped their heads in respect, and left him.

Shiki yawned, sifting blearily through the various silk attires, spandex pants, cotton vests, and accessories. This would take awhile.

"Turn to the side a tad, loosen your shoulders – there, perfect!" Click.

Shiki had his head facing the camera sideways, smoldering blue eyes donned up with dark embellishment cast on the white marble floor while his sleeveless arms exposing his toned skin rested by his sides. He didn't blink when the bright flash of the studio indicated a photo being taken. The director beckoned him to the center, where the lighting was concentrated, and he complied, shuffling over. This time, the brunet hooked his thumbs into his leather pants pocket, crossing his legs slightly as his eyes focused on the camera screen, sending vibes that screamed 'want me.' The cameraman smirked, zooming in and tapping the snapshot.

This week's issue would be stupendously perfect.

"All right, good job, everyone, Shiki. Let's wrap it up," the director, a disheveled, lanky man with a burly goatee, ordered, lightly slapping a folded up newspaper against his palm. The crew murmured in consent, proceeding to withdraw the chairs and lighting equipments as the portable camera was carefully being set aside for future use. Shiki sauntered arduously off the platform, disregarding the tinkling noises his studded belt stringed with a trinket of red ribboned-stars made when he moved. Upon his descent, he finally took notice of the two additional spectators whom he had been previously unaware of. The only indication of his surprise was his wide eyes, and even he couldn't hide his shock well.

Kuran Rido was leaning idly into the grand settee, dark wavy hair framing a pulchritudinous face that of the pureblood attribute. His wicked, tantalizing blue eyes, prominent nose, smooth and mocking lips, and masculine jawline were all familiar yet foreign to Shiki. In his stunned state, his eyes scrolled over to see the other pureblood, whose beautiful, invulnerable front was tense and strained. Shiki gulped, now feeling two pairs of probing eyes on him, each varying in presence of mind.

"An endearing spectacle as always, my dear son. Won't you come greet your father, who's been away for seven months?" Rido said, lips curling when Shiki obeyed cautiously, his son's feet bringing him closer to the pureblood. He set aside the glass of wine he had in his fingers' grasp and extended his arms to the boy, coaxing an embrace from the latter.

Shiki was surrounded by his father's warmth, head resting in the crook of the other's neck as the vampire's arms encircled him, and he breathed the long-forgotten scent of his kin. His father smelt of wine, expensive cologne, salt of the sea, and women. Withdrawing, he muttered in a barely audible voice, "Welcome back...father." A long, cold finger traced his jaw, and he recoiled just slightly, eyes widening in alarm, but the pureblood kept him locked with his delighted, craving, and that other dangerous emotion lurking in the beautiful cerulean irises. If he didn't know any better, he would've taken the ardor as simply lust. A tremor sped along his spine, and Shiki snapped out of the trance that his father had bewitched him into, consequently breaking away from the feathery touches trailing over his neck and face.

"Kuran Rido..." a deadly low murmuring came from the left. Kaname had stood up from his throne-like sofa, brown eyes hinting at a sheen of blood-red.

With a satisfied smirk, Rido flicked his hand in an off-handed notion, gesturing for the younger pureblood to take a seat. "Kuran Kaname, hm? You seem to have grown up quite a bit since the last time I've seen you."

Kaname slowly reclaimed his seat, eyes drawing to a close before they peered open in a calm, speculative manner. "As it may seem, Uncle Rido."

"My adorable Senri has taken to affiliating with his immaculate cousin, I see. A wise decision," he commended, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his son's eyes. Shiki blinked but did not object, eyes trailing over to the brunet who was calmly sipping Earl Grey tea.

Kuran Kaname seemed least of all perturbed, in spite of his abrupt notion prior. He must've willed himself into a balanced state, Shiki mused. But from what, he didn't know. It was rare to see the pureblood act at all disturbed or aggravated. The model glanced at his father and saw the man sipping from his red glass. It had been a while since he had least seen him, and if the man hadn't appeared now, Shiki would've likely forgotten the frequent touches he'd been subjected to in the presence of his father. It was like a habit that the pureblood couldn't part with, and easing along his tendencies was Shiki's own compliance.

"Which issue is the photo-shoot appearing in?" Rido asked, eyes roving over his son's face and attire and letting a pleased smirk adorn his divine features. He couldn't resist himself; his son was absolutely ravishing. And easily manipulated.

Shiki shrugged, oblivious to the assessment he was under. "Viscount's magazine, probably."

"Viscount?" Kaname prodded, raising an eyebrow.

"The young adult's section, apparently," Rido said, downing the last of the wine with a deep chuckle. "I'll look forward to that." He stood up and buttoned up his wool trench coat, standing to his full height at least seven inches taller than Shiki. Kaname rose, as well. "The Council has a mandatory meeting today. Kaname, you're welcome to attend," he informed, lips curling in the corners.

It was a silent challenge.

Kaname chuckled lightly, as he dusted imaginary dust off his uniform. "I'm curious, Uncle Rido."

"Well, go ahead, Kaname. Follow my secretary, and I'll catch up to you later," drawled the elder pureblood.

With a last, hesitant, and inquisitive glance at Shiki, Kaname left the studio, footsteps tapping against the marble floor. Left alone with his father, the brunet eyed Rido blankly, eyes displaying no emotion. He was unsure of how to act in front of this man, as he would constantly enter and leave his life in consequential sequences, until he would usually be remembered with the scent attached to wine, cologne, and women.

"Come over here, Senri," Rido demanded sultrily, voice like honey and figure intimidating. Shiki sighed, reluctantly entering his father's dangerous realm of mystery and confusion. He was once again embraced, though this time he could feel more of the pureblood's warmth than ever before. He was pressed into the other's chest when Rido's hand fondled his soft brown hair, touch soothing and reminiscent. Even though he wanted to act like an innocent child who wanted his parents' attention twenty-four-seven, he refused to let his eyes close in lax comfort.

"I'm not a child anymore, father," Shiki stated bluntly; monotonously. The rumbles from the chest he was leaning on and the silky, delighted vibrations made him aware of his father's laughter.

"How cute, Senri," Rido purred into his son's ear, and he could vaguely feel the shiver of response from the latter.

And he had smirked.

"Now, head home. I shall see you later, Senri."

Rori's Note: Because I like incest, and it's hawt.

Hehh, don't judge me.

I love you~

Long-ish chappie for absolutely horrendous update dates.