A/N: Sorry that these two chapters are so late and so crappy!

Disclaimer: VK? Yep…I don't own it.

--o--[Chapter Start]--o--

Aidou rapped his hand against the door, careful to keep the volume at a low level so that the rest of the dorm would remain unaware of his presence. He brushed a few stray flakes of snow away from where they clung to the edges of his jacket, watching them flutter to the ground and begin to melt against the thinly carpeted floor.

The door opened quickly, and Yori appeared in the frame, offering him a smile that made her eyes glow with soft warmth. He felt his own lips tugging up against his will, and allowed himself to be ushered inside without complaint.

"I was beginning to think that Yuuki had failed her test," Yori said as she shut the door.

Aidou scowled, "She nearly did. Isn't she supposed to be decent at literature?"

Yori chuckled, shrugging lightly, "If it peaks her interest."

"Well, her interest had better be peaked about keeping up her grades. I've never heard so much whining in my life," he muttered.

"Poor Yuuki," she shook her head. "She's trying so hard."

"I think she's been a bit distracted…" his mouth slashed down into a frown.

"With..?" her head tilted slightly to one side, curiously.

"I really shouldn't say anything," his eyes cut across the room, then back as he took a breath, "but since Yuuki no doubt told you in the letter, I guess it's safe. Kaname-sama has returned from his trip."

Yori's mouth formed a surprised 'oh.' Then, "She didn't mention it to me."

"She didn't know about it until after I delivered the last letter. I'm sure she said something in this one," he handed her the envelope. "She also wanted me to give you this," and he passed over a long, slim rectangle wrapped in colorful Christmas paper.

Yori smiled again, her happiness apparent. She crossed over to her bed, setting down the package, and took out one of her own from under the desk.

"For Yuuki," she explained.

He nodded, placing it on the other bed, "She'll be really excited."

"I know. Yuuki has always loved Christmas," her expression altered, reflecting a sad nostalgia, before flickering back. She reached for the present and began to carefully remove the bright tissue paper.

Aidou watched as her fingers nimbly moved, precise and exact in their motions. Within seconds, she had removed the paper, whole and intact, and set it aside, staring at the object now laid bare in her hands. From what he could see, it was a wooden picture frame, though the contents were invisible to him at this angle.

After a moment, Yori stood, placing the picture on her desk, lips curved upwards. He could see now that the picture within the frame was something that Yuuki had drawn and colored herself. It depicted Cross Academy in the spring, with the flowers in full bloom and the sky a clear, vivid blue. Before the academy, hands clasped, were two figures recognizable as Yuuki and Yori. Looking at it, he wondered if perhaps he should have given her a test on art, instead. There was no doubt that she would have passed with ease.

As usual, he sat on the edge of the opposing bed as Yori opened the letter. Somehow, it felt as if they had been following this ritual forever. There was a feeling of rightness, an ingrained truth that he couldn't deny.

And as he'd expected, her presence calmed him, sorted his emotions and removed the negative ones that he had been feeling until he'd stepped into her room. He didn't understand it, but the way her scent both repressed and stimulated his thirst left him breathless. He was content to simply watch her.

"Aren't you bored?" Yori asked wryly after a few moments, and he almost laughed. Bored? There was no way that he could be bored, now.

"A genius is never bored. He has his thoughts to occupy him," he smirked, grateful that his wits hadn't deserted him this time.

She rolled her eyes, "Modest as always, I see."

He grinned, "I only state the facts. Isn't that something you support?"

"When they're correct," she replied smoothly.

"I'm hurt," he made a pained face, and she laughed softly, much to his delight. He felt a little dazed, upon hearing that sound. It was subtle, melodic, beautiful. A sound that, upon hearing, he longed to hear again.

"Aidou-senpai, I don't think you need me to reinforce your ego," she commented.

"Don't call me that," he glared at her, abruptly furious. His eyebrows cut down, stark lines of anger, narrowing his eyes so that the blue there was sharp and intense.

Yori blinked, clearly surprised by his reaction, and asked carefully, "Call you what?"

"Aidou-senpai," his lip curled in distaste. "It feels so…" He trailed off, throat suddenly closed against saying the word. Distant. That title made it seem that, even though they were so close in proximity, the distance between them was vast and empty.

"Well then, what should I call you?" she asked, laying the letter down in her lap.

He brightened, "Hanabusa?"

She shot him a look, "Highly inappropriate."

"Oh, fine," he muttered. "Hanabusa-kun?"

Her lips pressed together as she considered this, and then shook her head, "Nope. That won't do, either. How about…Aidou-sensei?" She failed to repress her grin.

He blanched, "Don't say that. It makes me feel old."

"Alright then, I suppose I could tolerate Aidou-kun," she struggled to speak the title. Her fingers trembled slightly, and she twisted her hands together to hide it.

"Better," he allowed.

Her eyes fell back to the letter. She couldn't explain the strange feeling that resided in the pit of her stomach. It was something that made her heart flutter irregularly, something that made her nerves shiver with sudden sensation. The words remained blurry before her sight, and she had to concentrate to pick them out. When she did, they seemed to leap off the page.

I don't know what to do. I'm scared that he'll be able to see through me and know exactly what I've been doing. I've been betraying him, Yori-chan, by sending these letters. I wonder if I can keep it from him…or if I even want to. He deserves to know the truth.

I wish you were here with me. The days are so long and boring. The only things to distract me are my lessons. Ew. Maybe this was the study method we should have discovered long ago?

Yori's mouth pulled down, heart aching for her friend. If only she was there with Yuuki, everything would be better. They would be there to support one another. Yori was sure that Kaname's presence wouldn't have been so terrifying a notion if she were there.

She took a deep breath, reading on. Yuuki went on to describe her frustration with the lesson, as well as her continuing concerns about Aidou. Yori glanced over at him, subtly, or so she thought, but he noticed, eyes meeting hers with a faint question. She could feel herself starting to drown again, and dragged her gaze back to the paper, heart quickening its rhythm.

Don't notice, she thought desperately. Don't say anything.

But he did.

"I'm going to go ahead and assume that Yuuki still won't let this whole thing go," he commented dryly.

"She has solid reasons to be concerned," Yori returned calmly.

"I'm fine," he said with emphasis. "Tell her to stop worrying."

"I have, actually. She still won't drop it," she looked at him, contemplating. There didn't seem to be anything wrong on the surface, here in her room…

"If you're frightened that I might do something…," he scowled, "I can wait outside…"

"What?" she didn't try to hide her confusion.

"You're not scared that I'll attack you?" he questioned quietly.

"I'm not frightened," she replied firmly. "It was only something Yuuki said."

"If you say so," he didn't look completely convinced, but she decided it was best to leave things explained like this.

"I do," she felt her heart twist at his slightly hurt expression.

He said nothing to this, and she finished reading over the letter. Then she began to construct one of her own. She could finally offer Yuuki some piece of good news; however she might be misleading her friend by sharing it.

Zero asked about you the other day. We actually had a conversation that lasted more than a few seconds. Amazing, right?

Guilt swept over her. Yuuki would undoubtedly assume that Zero had read the letters. She supposed that it was a necessary lie, but all the same, she couldn't help but feel as if she were doing something very wrong. It was amazing what two sentences could do.

Plunging on, she forced her hand to write the rest of the words and end the letter. She could imagine Yuuki's face as she read the words, shining as she received that single shard of news. Was it a cruelty to do this, or a kindness? Yori couldn't be sure.

Sealing the envelope, her eyes flicked to Aidou, who was watching her with a strange expression. When he noticed that she was looking, it straightened immediately, and he stood, extending a hand for the envelope. Biting her lip, she handed it to him quickly, ensuring that nothing happened this time.

"I'll make sure Kaname-sama doesn't see the letter or the present," he assured her.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Of course," there was a slightly heavy pause, where each avoided the other's gaze steadfastly, and then Aidou turned to pick up the present for Yuuki.

"Wait," Yori said, the tremor returning to her limbs.

He turned, the surprise plain on his face.

"I…have something for you, too," she whispered, taking a gift from where it had lay hidden beneath her bed. She offered it to him, apprehension clawing at her from within, though she strove not to show it.

His hands seemed to move automatically, taking it from her. Then slowly a sincere, delighted smile spread across his face, his eyes sparkling in the lamplight like the star-strewn surface of the ocean at night. With a start, she realized that she had been holding her breath, and let it out gradually, trying to grasp at her thoughts again. Somehow, they had slipped from her mind like sand, leaving her feeling lost.

"Actually, I have one for you, too, believe it or not," his smile altered to a grin, and he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a long, thin box wrapped in delicate tissue paper. "Just don't open it until I leave. I don't like to deal with thanks."

She stared, accepting it with unsteady hands. Still, her voice was even and dry as she said, "Is that why you didn't thank me?"

"You didn't thank me, either," he pointed out, approaching the door, the gifts balanced under his arm.

"Thank you, Aidou-kun," she murmured, following him and opening the door.

When he turned to look at her, his eyes held a light that made her breath catch and her heart speed. She noticed, with sudden vivid clarity, how the gold in his hair contrasted with the blue in his eyes. How, if she kept looking into that blue, she might eventually be able to catch a fleeting glimpse of his soul. How, somewhere hidden in the depths of those eyes, there was a place that the light couldn't reach, seeming instead to be lit by some flame within him.

And then, abruptly, the blue was gone. He had disappeared out the door like some phantom hallucination, vanished before she had a chance to react. Her mind reeled in sudden confusion, Looking around the room dazedly, she was only struck by how empty it seemed now. Yuuki's empty, perfectly made bed gaped at her like an open wound.

She was alone, once again; her whole world held in suspension between letters. She wasn't sure that she could take another two weeks. She was frozen in place, part of her demanding that she run after him, call him back for just another second, another minute. But of course, he was already gone.

Her eyes fastened on the package in her hand. She hadn't remembered it until that moment. Regaining self control, she locked the door and sat on the edge of her bed, the gift balanced on her knees.

With effort, she removed the paper without causing too much damage to it. Her fingers were too shaky now to do it properly. Once the paper was gone, she held a simple black box, devoid of anything to identify its contents with. Removing the lid, she almost laughed when she saw that there was another box inside. This one, however, was soft to the touch, and her heart began to fly again as she recognized the manner of the object it held. After the second box was open, it took an exertion of willpower not to drop the precious gift it held.

Lying against the velvet was a gold filigreed necklace ending in a single, teardrop shaped emerald. It was tasteful; elegant without being ostentatious. She knew without having to look that it would coordinate flawlessly with her Christmas gown. And she also knew, as if someone had knocked the breath from her lungs, that the gold and gem were assuredly real.

Now she understood why he'd insisted on leaving before she opened it. It was to prevent her from giving it back.

At the same time, she felt oddly grateful for his departure. After all, how could she even begin to thank him?

And how could she even begin to forget the way she'd felt when she looked into his eyes?

77777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777

Zero closed his eyes, defeated. It was pointless to resist, after all. He craved her like nothing else.

The first envelope fell away to the floor, lifeless.

--o--[Chapter End]--o--

77777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777

A/N: Awwie, poor Zerorin. T^T I'm so sure he'd feel better if you reviewed. So sure…xD