AN: I wasn't going to upload this chap so soon, but I'm going on vacation so apart from the Blood and Ire fic upload on Monday, I won't be uploading anything while I'm gone. So, I thought I'd upload this a little early...though sadly there won't be any other updates until January...

Happy Holidays & Happy New Year, guys! I hope you enjoy your vacations!

It was the day of the dance, and Rima was less than enthused. Certainly, it was a change of pace, but neither did she appreciate being forced to mingle with Day Class students. Perhaps it would have been tolerable or even enjoyable if she, Shiki, and Ichijou could have gone together, undisturbed... She cut off the thought. As if that would ever happen, as long as the goal of the Night Class was to promote vampire-human relations. Choosing to push such futile thoughts aside, Rima instead examined her reflection, adjusting the black satin ribbons she'd used to tie her hair up in the customary pigtails.

It was funny, how humans and vampires alike placed so much value on mirrors. Mirrors were invaluable to her profession, but at the same time...a mirror could not truly reflect her. It showcased her beauty, a beauty that would last far longer than any flower, animal, or human woman. Yet, under the bludgeoning of centuries, that beauty would fade. It was, and would be, nothing more than a luxury, an accessory that she could bend to her will. Eventually, that beauty would crumble to ash and blow away in the wind. Why had she decided to make a career of something so frivolous? Staring back at herself in the mirror, her lips lifted into a slight smile. Modeling was a stepping stone to what she truly wished...acting. And...she had so very many centuries to occupy...she shouldn't begrudge herself a currently amusing pastime.

Lately, too, modeling had become a means of exploring Senri Shiki. He, like her, was a creature of beauty. An artwork. For Rima, art was never platonic. She was either captured and inspired by it, or she wasn't. She wanted to say that Shiki might be the first piece of platonic art she had ever encountered, but she feared it was otherwise. She couldn't forget the jealousy that had stolen her composure, the secret desire to feel his teeth at her throat, or the way she could slip away and travel across his eyes as though they were the ocean. More than anything, she couldn't seem to evade the strange way her heart sped the moment he offered her even the tattered semblance of a smile...even the mere memory of the smile he had shared with her just recently made her chest tighten involuntarily.

Taking a breath, she stepped back to regard herself. The black and blue gown she had chosen for the evening was lovely, elegant though perhaps a shade bold. Nodding to herself in satisfaction, she decided she was ready. She had applied a dark mascara and eyeliner to accentuate the black in her ensemble, and a touch of color to her lips, but mostly she hadn't applied much make-up. Honestly, she didn't need it, and it was too time-consuming unless she was doing a proper photoshoot. She glanced at Ruka, who was still curling the ends of her hair into immaculate perfection. It was almost pitiable, how much time and effort her roommate would dedicate to catching Kaname Kuran's eye...almost. If Ruka hadn't realized by now that the pureblood had no interest in her whatsoever, the girl was a lost cause.

"I'm going ahead," Rima stated.

"Okay. I'll be there soon," her roommate answered, a blatant lie as she was only on her first coat of make-up and not quite halfway through curling her hair.

"Alright," the model agreed anyway, slipping out of the room and down the hall to the dorm that Shiki and Ichijou shared.

Entering without so much as a knock, Rima discovered that the scene in this room was much the same as the one in her own. Shiki lounged on the bed idly; although he was as handsome as ever, she knew in an instant that he had done no more to prepare than run a brush through his hair. Even if she hadn't been a vampire, working with him on a daily basis had made her more observant of his habits. During the photoshoots, he took more pains with his appearance. It was obvious the dance rated less than a shoot. Meanwhile, the vice president was absorbed with the mirror, not unlike Ruka. He greeted her cheerfully enough, though his green eyes did not leave the glass.

"Are you ready?" she asked, folding her arms as she watched Ichijou primp his hair and critically examine his reflection for what she assumed was probably the millionth time.

Shiki nodded once and stood, gaze flicking to his roommate as he inquired drably, "Are you coming?"

"Of course!" the vice president answered brightly.

"I wasn't sure... There may be a strand of hair out of place..."

"Tonight we're supposed to look nice," Ichijou sniffed, joining them after one last, long look in the mirror.

"Ah, the vice president's intentions are obvious," Shiki whispered to her in a voice loud enough for their friend to hear.

"Yeah, it's been awhile since he tried to seduce a Day Class girl," Rima replied, fishing a pocky stick out of the box she had brought along in her pocket and handing it to her coworker. The habit was so ingrained in her at this point that she didn't even question why she was bringing the snack along with her to the dance.

"I am not trying to seduce anyone," the vice president defended himself pitiably.

"Sure," Shiki mumbled around his cookie stick.

"Ichijou-kun is like one of those old perverts who sits on a bench to watch the girls walk by," Rima added, tucking the box away again.

"Rima-chan!" Ichijou cried in despair. "Do you really think I'm old?!"

"That's the part you disagree with?" Shiki asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, he can't possibly deny the perverted part," Rima observed.

Ichijou protesting loudly to their jabs, the trio made their way out of the dorm and into the Student Hall where the dance was being held. Most of the trip they went unnoticed, but a few Day Class students managed to notice or intercept them on the way there, babbling praises. Rima excused them each time in a brusque manner that should have offended them, but didn't. The humans were feeble creatures and far too easily impressed...she almost felt sorry for them.

The Hall itself had been decorated by the Day Class. For a human affair and a school event she supposed it wasn't bad. There were plenty of streamers and other random decorations, but the dance paled in comparison to the vampire soirees she attended. Even the events the modeling agency held put this to shame. Speakers blared popular music, a touch too loud for her sensitive ears, although the Day Class was enthusiastically dancing to it without any indication of discomfort. Nevertheless, in spite of her reluctance to participate in the ordeal, she appreciated that the glass doors of the balconies had been thrown open to permit the gentle scent of the crisp spring air to waft through the room and mute the crowding of human scents that inundated the space. There were other thoughtful touches as well. Against the far wall was an assortment of snacks and drinks, and in one corner huddled several chairs and a sofa for any students who either were tired of dancing or didn't want to dance.

Almost immediately, the three were ambushed by the human students. The girls were squealing in an annoying manner over the two boys, so Rima allowed herself to be pulled away by the male Day Class students, who were at the very least quieter and less assertive than Ichijou and Shiki's fanclubs.

"Rima-sama, you look beautiful."

"Will you dance with me tonight?"

"What do you think, Rima-sama? We prepared this room especially for you."

"Would you like something to drink?"

Fortunately, the model was practiced at effectively navigating situations such as this. Journalists and the press had interviewed her before, so she put on a professional face and dealt with her current predicament in much the same way. When she saw that Ichijou and Shiki were being led onto the dance floor, she accepted their requests to dance, and the group joined the large circle that was forming in the center of the room as a familiar tune played over the stereo system. Ichijou managed to place himself in the center of a group of no less than 10 girls, while she and Shiki sneakily maneuvered themselves side by side, leaving their friend to his flirting.

As the circle moved in unison to the right, a polished black shoe landed squarely on her foot. "Ow!" she hissed, immediately grinding her foot down upon the offending appendage. "Watch where you're stepping," she muttered to her coworker, who at least had the grace to look mildly abashed.

Using the dance to her advantage, Rima placed several other Night Class members within sight. As the circle did a full turn, she caught sight of Kaname dancing with the prefect out on the balcony. Really, she didn't understand why he was so interested in that annoying girl. Yuki was pretty for a human, of course, and petite in an attractive way, although a bit thick in the head and stubborn besides, but nonetheless... Rima thought that the girl's vocal, pushy, and naive personality overruled any cuteness she possessed.

The dance ended and the three were split up once more. Rima found herself interrogated by no fewer than fifteen students who all wanted turns dancing alone with her. She refused them all outright, but chatted with them anyway, which seemed to appease them. A distance away, she saw Kain separate Ichijou from one of the girls, and rolled her eyes discreetly. Whatever had happened, she was sure the vice president's intentions had been anything but pure. Ichijou may not have been a playboy like Aidou, but he certainly did love to flirt. As long as it wasn't directed at her, however, she decided it wasn't really any of her business.

The night carried on at a slug pace. Rima almost wished something scandalous would happen to break up the monotony. Of course, nothing happened at all, and she was forced to answer mindless questions on and on again until she felt that she might die of boredom. Vaguely, she wondered how her coworker was getting on.

Senri wasn't sure how long he'd been enduring the school dance, or as he mentally thought of it, the gauntlet. He had lost track of Ichijou a while ago, as the room had filled almost to a bursting point with the majority of both the Day and Night classes. Tiredly, the model looked around for some indication of the time and found no clocks or any other time-telling devices in sight. He held back a sigh. It had at least been an hour or two since they'd arrived. He hadn't danced more than once the entire night, although he almost regretted it. In the end, it might have been preferable to conversing with his fans. Really, the only condition that would have made the dance interesting would have been to come with Rima, but both she and Ichijou had insisted that he come alone, to mingle or whatever it was they'd called it. All in all, it was a drag.

"Shiki-sama, you look very handsome tonight," one of the Day Class girls praised him shyly. An interesting observation, considering he'd come to the dance exactly as he would have to class on any other day. He didn't have a choice but to wear his uniform, and he hadn't done anything else special besides.

"Thanks," he murmured. To avoid further conversation, his eyes swept around the ballroom, finding it curiously devoid of familiar faces. Stepping closer to Rima, who was currently surrounded by a ring of her own fans, he asked, "Where is everyone?"

His colleague frowned and answered in a low voice, "I don't know. Aidou-san and Kain-san left a while ago...Kaname-sama and Ichijou-kun, too. Kurenai-san didn't even come to begin with."

"The Cross girl isn't here, either." Blue eyes flicked around the room thoughtfully. That was strange, now that he'd noticed it...

"Or Kiryuu," she observed. A pause, then, "It feels like something is going to happen..."

He nodded. "Well, I guess it'll be fine... Kaname-sama is going to take care of it, so..."

"Seems they don't need us." She shrugged.

"Yeah."

"Shiki-sama, are we boring you?" one of the girls interrupted timidly, glancing at her friends with apparent nervousness.

The model internally sighed. Yes, they were quite dull, as far as human girls went. Still, he should be flattered by their attentions. Moreover, it was good business for a model to treat any and all fans with respect. He was mildly interested to know why several prominent members of the Night Class had vanished, but Ruka and Seiren were still in sight at least, which was strangely reassuring. If Kaname were in danger, he knew both vampires would have been by the pureblood's side. So he dismissed the matter out of hand, deigning it unimportant.

"You aren't..." he assured the girl, who smiled in relief.

"Does Shiki-sama like dancing?" another girl inquired on cue.

Dancing required so much energy... "No...though I don't mind the music..."

"Oh! The piano is my favorite," she gushed. "Do you play any instruments?"

Abruptly, the smell of freshly spilt pureblood wafted through the air of the open balcony and blistered down his throat with a sudden fit of intense thirst. He didn't catch the stiffening of the entire Night Class, scattered around the ballroom. Didn't catch Rima's question; it was lost and muddled past the fog that clouded his ears. All he could do was shut his eyes and clutch his suddenly burning throat, lips locked tight to shield his fangs from view.

Words. Words, but he couldn't make sense of them. Then, "Come on," and Rima was guiding him from the room. Through the shield of his eyelashes, he could make out the floor enough to follow her.

"What's wrong with Shiki-sama?!" one girl cried.

"Shiki-sama, are you okay?" another asked anxiously.

He couldn't answer. Answering would mean opening his mouth, would mean tasting the sudden awareness of their body heat, of their delicate pulses and deliciously pumping blood that both teased and assaulted all his senses. His tongue felt like sandpaper, his throat...it was lost in an unquenchable fire. Pureblood... Who had spilled pureblood? He didn't recognize the scent, but he was helpless beneath its effect.

"He's sick. He hasn't been feeling well lately. Don't worry," Rima explained, appeasing his concerned...undeniably mouth-watering fans. He attempted not to breathe, to shut off his lungs. This was the worst he'd ever felt his thirst...to find even his troublesome fans palatable... "He needs some fresh air. We should be back soon."

A few moments later, Senri opened his eyes to realize two things. One, that Rima had escorted him from the ballroom and was leading him down the path back to the dorms. And two...that there was no one else around them. Aside from the pureblood that saturated the air, there was only one scent here...hers. His nostrils flared, unable to escape the aroma of her blood. His chest stopped, veins smoldering beneath his skin, arms rigid by his sides like iron bars in an attempt to cage himself and this thirst. The elusive perfume of that rich blood was taunting him, setting his own blood astir and glittering crimson across his eyes.

"No...not back to the dorm...that's where the scent is coming from." He shook his head, voice rough and strained.

"That's where the tablets are," she pointed out in a detached, composed voice.

Nevertheless, he didn't want to get closer to the scent that had set off this wave of bloodlust. "It'll pass."

"Don't be an idiot. Fine...get over here before the humans see you like this." She pulled him into the cover of the trees. It wasn't an ideal location, and he worried a human might accidentally stumble upon him in this state, but it was also dark and the Day Class was preoccupied with the dance. And...even if someone did pass by and see them...it wasn't beyond their abilities to erase memories.

"It will pass," he repeated, and he saw a stormy sky flare to life in her eyes.

"You'll drink Ichijou-kun's blood but not mine," she accused.

"Yes." Because there was no danger there. No addiction. No desire. No obsession. Nothing but blood to keep his thirst at bay.

"I promised you I wouldn't let you become like Rido, didn't I?"

"Yes..." Yes, but...

"So don't hold back," she stated simply, words quiet yet ringing like a command.

Without waiting for his answer, her nails carved twin wounds into the side of her neck, welling and spilling that precious, delectable blood. Two single droplets wound their way down her neck, pooling in the hollow of her collarbone. Immediately, the aroma was choking him, closing off his windpipe as he fought for sanity. Something hungry and sinister was whispering within him to cease fighting, to sink his teeth into her flesh, to possess the scent of those electric dahlias. His pulse flared. His throat burned. His chest spasmed. He wanted to give in. Desperately. Horribly. Ruthlessly. The sky was spinning and she was at the center, the scent of her blood sending him into a labyrinth of jarring, conflicting senses.

Don't hold back, is that really what she wanted? Honestly he hadn't wanted to hold back even from the beginning, had never wanted this doll-like existence anyway...but... But, his mother... But, his own sense of self-preservation... His body vibrated like glass. He was going to shatter and the fragments would slice open Rima's porcelain skin. But... How he wanted to... How he had wanted to for weeks...months...it felt like years...

Disjointedly, he stepped forward to pull her against him and press his lips to her exposed, tantalizing throat. Her arms twined around his neck, bringing him closer, the smell of her blood so close to him it blinded his senses. Traitorously, his tongue brushed against her skin, at last...at last sampling those scarlet, seductive droplets where they lingered on her skin. He tightly grasped that single, fragile moment in which he reined in his impulses, in which he simply tasted her blood without the urge to devour her entirely. And then his vampiric nature kicked in, instincts guiding his fangs into her delicate throat.

The moment his teeth broke through her skin, her blood crystallized in his mouth like sugar; he was transported by the blissful delirium of it. The taste of it curled sweetly around his heart and around his tongue, an aromatic wine that dizzied him with the first swallow. It dripped down his throat like honey, staining his insides with thunder and grace, with all that was Rima. He tasted storms and galaxies and cream, tasted liquid lightning. And a rising tide filled the space between his teeth and his tongue, bringing with it an undeniable truth. He craved Rima's blood. Hers, and hers alone...just as he'd known he would...and feared...

"Shiki-kun," she murmured, and the words resounded through her blood, "please, take better care of yourself from now on."

Reflexively, in response to her words, he swallowed more of her blood, let it flood his mouth and inebriate every taste bud. He did want to... He wanted to indulge in her blood when he was hungry rather than choke down the repulsive tablets. He knew this exquisite flavor would be forever etched into his tongue. It was so different than any other blood he had tasted, infinitely better. And the intimacy of the moment, the warmth of her slender form against him...it was bliss.

Despite every instinct begging him to slide his fangs deeper, to drink deeper still from her veins, he pressed his tongue taut over the wounds instead, catching the last of her blood as the puncture marks slowly closed up and faded. For a moment, he lingered there against her skin, experiencing a strange, foreign sensation of satisfaction he had never known before. He wanted to taste her again, to surrender all his principles and pierce the skin of her throat once more...but...somehow, now, there was a sated feeling coiling around him, whispering that, for today, it was enough.

Yet...just now...hadn't he also broken every promise he'd ever made his mother? He swallowed shakily, shifting away from his golden-haired coworker. He'd already been consumed by his worn-out thirst... Already given up his resolve... Already, he was walking down the path he'd sworn not to. And now he knew he could never return to pure apathy. Not now, not after this...

"You really don't listen." She sighed, reaching up wipe away a trace of blood from the corner of his mouth. "Didn't you taste my thoughts?"

He blinked, caught off-guard by the question. That was right...vampires had such an ability... But he'd been so hungry, so overwhelmed by the vampiric side of him...by his desire for her blood... He hadn't been able to focus on her thoughts so much as the taste of her. His tongue convulsed ecstatically with the memory. He shook his head.

Rima pursed her lips, withdrawing a handkerchief from her pocket. "Here," she handed it to him. "Well, how are you feeling?"

Unexpectedly, he answered, "Fine." He frowned, inhaling deeply, and discovered that, for once, the action did not cause him discomfort. Breathing the air around her was no longer like breathing in needles. Instead, it was tinged only with the sweetness of her scent. Distantly, he could still detect the pureblood wafting deliciously through the air, but this time it did not push him over the edge as it had before. "Better," he confessed. Much, much better...

Maybe Rima was right after all. Maybe he shouldn't worry. Maybe...maybe he should try taking care of himself just a little more. After all, right now he felt shockingly normal and at ease. Slowly, he raised the cloth to his mouth to remove the traces of her blood.

She'd been wondering for weeks now what his eyes might be like while drinking her blood. And she'd seen them as she'd scratched open her skin. She'd felt his warm lips skim over her pulse, his eyes incendiary, burnished red, and she'd shuddered in anticipation. Feeling his fangs puncture her skin, she'd felt a shiver of pleasure chase down her spine. And she'd known there against his body as he'd drunk her in...she'd been unable to repress the revelation as it scalded every nerve...

She liked Senri Shiki. Pointlessly, infuriatingly liked him. That was why, maybe, it was best he hadn't heard her thoughts. Even if it was just a crush, a temporary infatuation, or whatever...

His eyes, ripped at the edges, pulled her back away from her troubled thoughts. Softly, she commented, "No one will punish you, even if this was technically against school rules." She took the cloth and wiped away the last smudge from the corner of his mouth before returning the handkerchief to her pocket.

"She'll know, though," he whispered.

"Maybe," Rima allowed. She knew from the look on his face that he meant his mother. "I've also done things to upset my parents." A pause. "Do you regret it?"

A strange emotion fluttered across the expanse of his eyes. He hesitated, sucked in a breath, and then confessed in a thread of a voice she had to strain to hear, "No. Not at all..." She thought perhaps his response surprised himself.

"Come on," she took his hand and he trailed after her back towards the dorms. "The party was getting boring anyway."

AN: See I did say that this chapter would be longer hehe. Also I always thought it was weird in the manga how everyone could almost always smell blood no matter where it was on campus...seems so unrealistic...like okay Hino whatever you want, sure. Anyway, for the purposes of this fic, we'll just say pureblood is really strong and powerful. Idk about every little cut or scrape (or bite hehehehe), but I guess they can smell the pureblood from a greater distance.

And review!