Rima smoothed hands down over the flat surface of her stomach, tracing the top of her skirt, and felt a welling of frustration like blood in a new wound. Once again, she had unconsciously chosen blue for her wardrobe. Yesterday, it had been cerulean, today it was teal, and tomorrow she was already eyeing a lavender and cobalt-colored dress. Lately, she had gravitated to blue, every shade of it, and left most of her clothing neglected and pushed against the opposite end of the closet. She especially liked grey-blue, though she couldn't say why. Rather, she didn´t want to say, even when a pair of familiar eyes flashed through her head. She didn't want to think about those eyes now, or ever, because even if their owner had proved to be better company lately, she preferred solitude. Even as a girl, she had relished the scant moments when she was completely alone, standing out in the rain, free of the umbrella she used during the day to protect her perfect, milky white skin. She was happiest like that, with only herself for company, because the bustling rooms of lackluster, unoriginal models and staff members were lonelier than actually being alone. She was her own best friend…maybe her only friend, excepting Ichijou. And that was how she liked it.

At work, whenever she made the mistake of lingering over those grayish eyes, she turned her head away, letting the music and the snap of the camera lens drown out such thoughts. All of her distractions should suffocate and disappear, because they had no place in the studio. Yet they lingered, reminding her like a broken melody again and again of her aching throat and the mysterious, rainy eyes that held her attention whenever she let it stray. Without wanting to be, she was intrigued by him. Intrigued by his disassociation with everyone and everything, intrigued by his apathy, intrigued by his occasional, casual sarcasm. Intrigued, yes, intrigued and compelled by the subtle perfume of rain showers, twilight, and agar…

Rima finished tying up her hair with a teal ribbon and pushed open the door, stepping out into the hall of the dorm. Her eyes flicked down the hall, towards the room Shiki and Ichijou shared, and felt unsettled. That room was sure to be infused with her partner´s scent, along with whispered conversations she could not fathom. Most of what she had originally known about Shiki came from various interviews that she had read. She knew he had chosen to model because of his mother´s encouragement. It was one of the countable facts she had known about him until recently. She knew his birthday, his blood type, his shoe size, his hometown... But those facts were cold, distant pieces of information. And normally, that was all she cared to know about anyone…

With a toss of her pigtails, she descended the staircase to the dorm´s common area. That was still all she cared to know about anyone. Even as she settled down to breakfast and wondered, Has Shiki eaten today?

Senri stared at the melon bread Ichijou had handed him before heading out, fingers toying with the edges of the plastic and listening to the crinkling sound. He should eat it, he knew he should...but as the wrapper opened slightly and the smell wafted out, the hunger drained from his belly. He didn't want it. He wanted pocky. Chocolate. Something, anything else, so long as Rima's scent lingered on it...

Tossing the bread on his dresser, Senri flopped back onto the bed, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing for a distraction. He had already swallowed down a disgusting blood tablet when he'd first woken up, and his tongue still weighed heavily from the chalky texture. Ichijou was gone for at least the next hour or two, Rima would gone for a considerable amount of time to some meeting with their manager, and Senri was left alone and without distraction. With both of his friends gone, he had nothing to do and no one to occupy his tumultuous thoughts with.

He paused. Friend...could he consider Rima that..? ...Should he?

He sighed, adrift in the empty room, and wondered if this was how it started. Left to oneself, bored and hungry, wouldn't one start to spiral downwards into madness? Gradually, everything would seem so unimportant, so pointless. Why brush your hair when you had no one to see? Why eat when you'd continue starving anyway? Why anything at all?

It wasn't like that, though. Not for his mother. He knew without her telling him that his father had been unspeakably cruel to her. He knew she had been driven insane by an unquenchable thirst and an insatiable desire to be loved. That was why she had become an actress in the first place. And when her career and her lover were gone, what was left? Her friends and family had abandoned her eventually, and the only person who remained in her life was him, her son. She'd undoubtedly been terrified that he'd commit the same atrocities to her and to everyone around him. Her wild eyes had screamed at him, and in the end he'd made his promises to appease her. He wouldn't become like Rido.

Senri inhaled slowly, anchoring himself in the present. He didn't care. About anything. Yet he couldn't banish the tiny seed of hurt that rooted itself in his chest. Because, Hana Shiki hadn't been totally forsaken... She'd always had him, from the very first moment he'd come into this world; and she always would, until she crumbled to ash. Only, it seemed that he wasn't enough to live for...

At last alone and free to do as she pleased, Rima retrieved her sketchpad and lay down on her inviting bed. It was the weekend, but that rarely excused her from some kind of task, whether it be for work or school. Today, she'd gone with her manager to chat with the owner of a new line of handbags. The discussion had been fruitful, and the owner had requested her for several advertisements on the spot. And that was all good, but...she was happy to be back at the dorms and happier still that Ruka was absent. The model had the room all to herself. She would start something new today, she thought, pencil hovering over an empty page in her sketchbook. Glancing down at her outfit, she grimaced. Something new, but something definitively not blue.

What was the opposite of blue, both in color and feeling? Red. She nodded in satisfaction, jotting down the note in the upper right hand corner of the page. Red was fiery, passionate, bold, everything that blue was not. And, also...the color of the subtle highlights of Shiki's hair in the sunlight... Rima stared down at the paper with derision. She couldn't really escape reminders of her colleague. Well, she wouldn't be defeated. The clothes would stay red. And, just to prove she didn't care, she should design something for Shiki, as well. Perhaps they could even use the outfits in an upcoming shoot the agency did every year to show off their models... The staff had told her that she could if she wanted, anyway.

Picking up her pencil, Rima tapped the eraser against the corner of her mouth for a moment before beginning to sketch. If she was going to use this for the shoot, it should display her personality. Companies would be looking at the photos to determine who they wanted to work with, after all. Her tastes ran trendy but tastefully punk, sometimes even darting into a kind of cute, chic gothic when she felt particularly bold. With that in mind, she began the sketch. She would have a top and a skirt, with high socks and platform shoes. Shiki should complement her without overshadowing her, so she kept his design a touch more modest, although utilizing elements from the female outfit to create a cohesive whole.

When at last she was satisfied with the outfit, Rima decided she would take the sketches in during their next shoot so that she could begin working with the staff there to assemble the outfits. She knew her proportions like the back of her hand, which made the process smoother. She paused, frowning. Come to think of it, she hadn't the slightest clue what Shiki's proportions were. Sighing, she flopped over on her back, pressing the sketchbook against her face to muffle a quiet groan of annoyance. She would have to get the staff to look through the files to find those numbers, and that would hold up the process for at least another few days, knowing them...

Almost as though he had read her thoughts, her coworker chose that very moment to pop his head in the door, asking, "Have you seen Ichijou-kun?"

"Ah." She blinked in surprise, immediately discarding the sketchbook to one side and beckoning him to come in. "Shiki-san, I need you. Now."

One eyebrow flicked a centimeter upwards. "Oh?"

"I need to measure you," she clarified.

"Why?" he inquired, edging closer to the bed and eyeing the notepad with a subdued glimmer of interest.

"I'm thinking about designing outfits for the shoot our agency does every spring to promote us. The staff told me I could, so..." He reached out a hand and she passed him the sketch. "What do you think?"

"Hmm." He sat down beside her then, pointing to the male version of the outfit. "It's good, but...make the collar lower here...," he suggested. "And, maybe sunglasses?"

"They have to see your face...," she commented dryly.

"I hate the studio lights," he said, and the corners of her mouth twitched. So that was why. Then, "What if you shortened the jacket here?" He demonstrated by tracing the shape with his finger.

"Hmm, that might work..." She nodded, absorbed in the work, and quickly redid the sketch. "What do you think about making my skirt plaid? Black and white to match the red top? And then black socks and sleeves?"

"Yeah. Or boots."

"That's a possibility..." She drew those to one side of the paper to get a better mental image. She preferred the platform shoes, but boots wouldn't look bad either.

"This should be short sleeves, though." He tapped her shirt.

"You think?"

"Yeah. Try it."

She complied, secretly doubting him, but when she had drawn the last line she discovered that it actually did complement the ensemble far better than the 3/4 sleeves she had originally decided on. "Thanks, it looks much better now," she murmured with surprised gratitude.

"No problem."

Pleased with the final product, Rima stood and told him, "Okay, I need to measure you now." Opening the drawer of her bedside table, she pulled out a measuring tape.

"You keep that in your nightstand..?" She detected amusement in his tone.

"This is one of my hobbies." She shrugged.

"What do I do?" he asked, standing as well.

"Just stand there. Well... I guess you'll have to take off your sweater. It's a little thick to measure through."

A discernible pause, followed by a muttered, "...Fine."

She stared at him in confusion, misunderstanding his response until he discarded the pale yellow garment. Then, her expression transfigured into one of chagrin. "That's all you're wearing," she stated blandly, confronted by his bare torso.

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" he retorted sarcastically.

She sighed before shaking her head and brandishing the measuring tape. "Whatever. It will only take a few minutes."

She said that, but... Involuntarily, her eyes traced the contours of his body, absorbed the flawless lily white of his skin. Somehow, she had always imagined him to be boney and thin. Instead, he was well-proportioned and healthy, slender without being skinny and fit without being very muscular. Drawing out the tape and beginning her careful measurements, her gaze subtly flitted over him. Over his angular collarbone to his wide shoulders. Over his sculpted chest and down along the dipping curve from his ribs to his tapered waist. Over the faint outline against the taut skin of the first and then the second rib. Over his graceful arms accented with blueish veins and out to his elegant fingers. He was a work of art, a rare balance of aesthetics, and Rima felt a twinge of envy. As beautiful as she was, her own body lacked in some ways that Shiki's did not. Her own waist was slightly too narrow, her breasts too small, her frame too short. Because of her own limitations, she could never, for example, model on a runway. Shiki, though...

"Rima-chan. Don't stare. I'll sue for sexual harassment..." His detached voice effectively disrupted her unabashed ogling.

Suddenly flustered, she felt her foot give a little stamp as she declared, "How else am I supposed to do this?"

"Professionally?" he suggested.

He pointedly looked away from her answering glare. Returning to her task and brushing away her previous thoughts, Rima meticulously recorded each number in her book. She did her best to ignore her coworker standing patiently before her, but found him distracting and the scent of his blood particularly enticing, especially with the lamplight bringing out the reddish glints in his hair and his skin left bare and vulnerable and so easily punctured... She frowned, schooling herself coolly in her head. Yes, Shiki was undeniably attractive, but really, the appeal was purely physical. He was so very bland. She shouldn't let herself forget.

"I just need one more," she told him at last. "I'm going to measure your waist now, so put up your arms just a bit."

The burgundy-haired model obliged her obediently, and it was just as she was lining up the end of the tape that a sudden, new scent and a tiny intake of breath froze the model in place. A moment later, she heard Ruka manage, "Y-You should have warned me to come back later!" Rima turned to regard her roommate with exasperation, noting the dark pink flush to the girl's mortified cheeks.

"This isn't what it looks like," Rima informed her, unwinding the tape and jotting down the last number.

"Yeah, it's sexual harassment," Shiki commented dryly, and Rima's eyes momentarily sparked with crackling lightning. She felt a sigh building in her lungs.

"This isn't really allowed, but...I'll go get something to eat just this once," Ruka suggested, rapidly regaining her composure.

"You will stay right here," Rima stated flatly. "I was just taking some measurements."

"Ruka-san has a shocking disregard for the school rules to overlook such a thing...," Shiki murmured noncommittally, and this time the twin pink dots reemerged on the honey-haired woman's face.

Rima's mouth twitched. Admittedly, it was a little funny to see Ruka flustered, but Rima knew that her roommate could change her temperament at the drop of a hat, so the blond vampire interfered, holding up the sketches she had been working on. "What do you think?"

Ruka stepped forward, scanning the pair of trendy, punk outfits. "It definitely suits you," she observed and Rima mentally added for her, "though I'd never be caught dead wearing it." Since her roommate seemed to disapprove, the model deemed the outfits complete. Ruka's style, after all, was almost precisely the opposite of hers.

She turned to her coworker then. "I'll get the staff to help me on Wednesday when we go back for the next shoot. Now that I have the measurements it will go a lot faster." Rima told him. "Thanks for the help."

Shiki nodded, retrieving his sweater from the bed, and it was then that Rima noted Ruka's wandering, lingering gaze. Noted it, and felt a surge of strange, conflicted emotions. For some reason, she felt oddly protective of her colleague and disgruntled by her roommate's appraisal of him. The sensation itched under her skin, flicking the corner of her mouth down into an almost-frown. She disliked it. Disliked the sideways tilt of those brown eyes. But then the woolly material of the sweater was sliding down, shielding the model's body from sight, and Ruka's gaze darted away.

"Guess I'll find Ichijou-kun," Shiki said in an undertone, and Rima thought perhaps he was leaving because Ruka had come back. She couldn't blame him. Her roommate had a much more vibrant and floral aura than either of the models.

"Okay." Rima nodded, replacing her sketchbook in the drawer of her nightstand.

Ruka's eyes slid once more up and down Shiki's form as he passed through the doorway. "Liked what you saw?" Rima asked, voice flat, although there was an acidity steeping on her tongue as she spoke the words.

Her roommate's answer, however, was disturbing. "I was thinking... Shiki-san is Kaname-sama's cousin, isn't he?" the honey-haired vampire mused contemplatively. "They can't be very different, don't you think?"

Rima stared at her roommate in disgust. Ruka was imagining Shiki as Kaname? The pureblood? She shivered. How creepy. Abruptly, the protective sentiment was rising up again, and she fought to tamp it down. She hoped Kaname was extra scrawny. Or had a weird mole. Or, something...just as long as it was something that Ruka couldn't defend.

Belatedly, she added a tally to the number of times her roommate had mentioned Kaname Kuran.

"I think they can, actually," she refuted, determined to oppose Ruka's decidedly creepy thought process.

A pause. "You're right... Kaname-sama is perfect, after all..."

A burst of air from her nose nearly became a snort of contempt. Yes, Kaname Kuran was a pureblood and therefore possessed both a beautiful appearance and particularly sweet blood, but that did not make him perfect by any means. Moreover, Rima didn't know what more Ruka could want from the male body unless she preferred muscle, which she didn't because she didn't give Kain the time of day. Shiki was already perfect. Honestly. Ruka was delusional.

"Shiki-san is Shiki-san. And Kaname-sama is Kaname-sama," Rima limited herself to saying.

"Hmm. Well, I am a little curious. There's a rumor going around campus that you and Shiki-san are dating." Ruka's expression was avid for gossip.

"What?" Where did that come from? Sure, she spent a lot of time in Shiki's company, and they worked together, but they had never displayed any romantic behavior.

"Are you?"

"No. Don't be ridiculous," Rima denied. "Where did you hear that?"

"Around," Ruka answered vaguely. "But you are always together." When Rima deigned not to respond, she pressed, "So there's nothing going on? Despite him being with you alone in our room...in a state of undress?"

"No, there isn't," she replied in a clipped voice. Her supply of Ruka-patience was dwindling at an alarming rate.

"It's a shame. You would look good together."

Decidedly annoyed now, she retorted, "I could say the same for you and Kain-san."

Ruka huffed. "Please. You and I both know I only date men of intellect and elegance."

Rima quickly put away her sketchbook to hide her exasperated and slightly mocking expression. Composing her features as she would in the studio, she very carefully turned around and countered, "Be that as it may, you have to admit that Kain-san is very handsome, and at least from an aesthetic point of view, he compliments you." There. Argue with that.

"That's what I'm saying about you and Shiki-san!" Ruka brightened, somehow deciding that Rima was agreeing with her.

Wow. It was official. Ruka definitely needed to date someone intelligent to compensate for her own shortcomings. More than finished with the conversation, Rima retorted, "Well, I suppose that's why we're modeling partners. Anyway, I'll see you later." Without a single apology or excuse, the blond vampire was out the door. And regardless of the circumstances, she didn't want to see or hear about either Shiki or Ruka for the rest of the day.

If only her own thoughts would let her forget him...

AN: Haha...comedic interlude anyone? I decided to try a little Shima comedy hehe what do you think? Other than that Ruka's a perv!