Surroundings.
He couldn't grasp his surroundings, the only thing in view was a kid and the only noise heard was the soft pitter-patter of raindrops hitting against the window. He noticed that the kid's eyes were two different colors as they looked anywhere but his own red ones.
'Who are you?' He felt like asking, however, instead came out; "what happened..?"
A question. One his body seemed eager to have the answer to and yet, what was he asking? What did this kid do or not do that he seemed so eager to know? That as if his life depended on just this mere answer?
But, more importantly, why was he asking this question without a clue about these answers..?
Though, these reasonable inquiries he mustered in the back of his head were not the thing plaguing and echoing inside his head leaving a raw and unknown sense of deja vu. No, only this one feeling was to blame for this. The undeniable sense of familiarity?
Their expression acted as light in the dimly lit room; their gaze was cold, harsh, and unforgiving with a colder, curt reply following, "I didn't." The kid—significantly younger than him yet they stood approximately the same height - another thing to add to his endless list of questions—responded with a light click of their tongue.
Familiar..?
His body stilled on its own as the words left the other's mouth. He felt out of breath as his chest tightened, his heart felt torn—ripped. A bitter smile spread across his face, a soft; "oh?" Leaving him. His mind was blanking. He could hardly speak, he couldn't even comprehend what the kid was talking about and yet the rapidly growing dampness of his cheeks seemed to disagree.
He was crying.
Sobbing, all of his strength left him, leaving him on the floor doing nothing but grasping at his shirt. "Oh..." He heard himself repeating.
Familiar.
This scene, one he had no desire to relive seemed to be...
A memory?
Darkness overwhelms his vision, everything fades until nothing remains, once more he tries to grasp his surroundings and realizes.
He was alone.
A loud bang.
Thunder; Ah, it was raining.
He hated the rain.
It's raining now. He'd woken to thunder; not a pleasant awakening considering the rather unsavory thoughts lingering after his rather unsavory dream - could it be considered a nightmare if a haunted memory from the past? He's haven't had such dreams in recent so; nightmare, he settles on.
Sucking in a breath and breathing deeply out to calm himself, he sat up, he was on the floor. When'd he get there, he couldn't remember. His bedsheets whereabouts were unknown and his pillow must've softened his fall, telling by it being under him.
Sighing, he looked toward the ceiling.
He recalls his mother. Before his Xypnima was determined to manifest, she would always lull him to sleep with a song after a particularly bad nightmare. He still remembers the-
...
Ah.
If he's thinking back that far then he really must be out of it.
"It's quiet, too quiet."
"You look like you just stepped out of The Nether Domain."
He didn't care to turn and greet the person entering the kitchen "Don't you have class today?" He asked instead as recognition washed over him by the person's voice alone. With his back still turned he poured himself some coffee. The other seemed unbothered by their teasing going unacknowledged; used to it, he figured.
They seemed to consider his question for a moment, "Don't you have classes today?" They eventually threw back.
He rolls his eyes, finally turning to face the other. "Touché."
"I'm surprised you're speaking right now," The blond spoke with slightly narrowed eyes. "You usually just glare at everyone without response until noon." He was accused.
"I do not." He says back, with a slight huff.
"Sure." They spoke slowly, sounding not convinced in the slightest, he rolled his eyes once more.
"Say... do you like parties, Isu?" They asked, hopping onto the counter.
"No," was his curt reply. He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why?"
"Don't be so suspicious!" The blond spoke feigning offense. "I'm always suspicious when it's you." He deadpanned. "Spill it."
"So demanding gods I... just wanted to know, for no particular reason." They hummed, Isamu narrowed his eyes further, "so you're telling me; the person who hates parties just happened to think to ask my opinions on them..? I'm not convinced."
The other's shoulders slumped as they sighed dramatically. "So hard to please..."
The gray-haired male perks up.
"...Fong Xie-Li." He hums in delight. A jet-black-haired person emerged from the doorway with an annoyed pout.
"How'd you know I was there?" They asked.
He smiles in amusement, "I didn't."
The person- Fong Xie-Li, tilted their head in a questioning manner. "You didn't?"
"You're usually lurking in the shadows like a creep so I just assumed you were there."
Fong Xie-Li crossed their arms. "First of all, I'm no creep."
"Well, you're something..." The blond snorted, choking on their coffee, Isamu whips his head around. "Hey, that's mine!" He said, snatching the mug.
"It's not good anyway." He huffed. "You hate sugar or something? It tastes like bitter dirt."
"Prince." He speaks, lips twitching down into a frown, "You drank it. All—"
"Do you like parties, Xie-Li?"
Fong Xie-Li perked up. "This is what you asked Isamu earlier, yes? For me, it depends on the attendants. As was Isu I am also quite curious, why do you ask?" Isamu slightly frowns, "Jeez, how long have you been eavesdropping..?" He mutters rhetorically. "Long enough." They respond, pushing up their glasses some more.
"Well, if you have to know, our University is having a gathering and that hot history professor is attending so..." Prince trails off suggestively, "You want me to bring you along." Fong Xie-Li finishes for the other, squinting skeptically. "No."
Prince whines, "Why not?"
"I will not have you harassing my seniors." Fong Xie-Li stated. Prince groaned once again, "You're no fun!"
"Uh," Isamu spoke up. "But what does this have to do with me?" Prince turned around with a smug smirk. "You will be my wingman!" He declares.
"Liar," Isamu called unamused.
Prince pouts lightly, "how do you always know..?" He mutters before huffing in resignation. "Okay, but I wasn't completely lying..." Prince countered. Isamu offered a silent glare. "Okay, okay. The professor might be a fan of your... writing."
"Prince!" Isamu grumbled. "I am not going so you can 'show me off' you know I don't like meeting my readers—"
"I'll buy you all the alcoholic coffee you ask for."
"Deal."
They share a look and then turn to Fong Xie-Li with puppy dog eyes. "Please, Xiansheng?"
Fong Xie-Li stares and then sighs heavily.
"Whatever. I'll take you, just don't cause trouble or you're both dead."
As promised, Fong Xie-Li drives the three of them to the dormitories on campus. Before even reaching the common area Isamu can practically taste the cigarette smoke in the air. He huffs in annoyance. For his coffee, he has to remind himself.
Before he knows it Xie-Li's been pulled away by a senior, and Prince is dragging him to - as he was thankfully informed on the way there - Donna, their history professor.
She was a nice woman. Though sincere people usually didn't sit right with him; Isamu still almost felt bad about her being Prince's next 'victim' as he and his other roommates called Prince's self-proclaimed crushes. She looks at him awestruck. "Who would've thought a college student was the writer of such a masterpiece." She praises them so genuinely that he's almost caught off guard.
"Thank you truly for the kind words, Miss." He smiles thankfully, hoping he's hiding his discomfort well enough. He can't wait to slip away and go to the buffet table, it's entirely easier to think of such a feast that's being presented so deliciously than any mortal contact.
Eventually, even with the topic still being about him, he's excluded from the conversation, leaving him free to do whatever he wishes. Isamu slips away going to the table of food and heading right to the deserts, maybe not a good idea considering he hardly even had a full mug of coffee, but that's later's problem, he decides.
...
"Samu..?"
A whisper. He snaps his head to the unfamiliar voice's owner. Despite maybe, him appearing to be unaware; he was acutely aware. Habit, and the senses of a 'devil'.
"Do I know you?" He responds curtly, coldly. Maybe unreasonable for just a mere acknowledgment, but he blames that on being dragged here against his will - well, it was his will but that is irrelevant.
The person's eyes widened, he supposes that they weren't meaning for him to hear. "Ah, no, I do not know you either." They respond politely.
A lie. Or at least not a full truth.
"People usually don't feel comfortable enough to give people they hardly know nicknames." He points out, gifting an unamused stare.
Their dual-colored eyes flick from his eyes off to the side for barely a moment. He can't put the name to the action, and before he tries the person's eyes settle back on his own, red ones.
"...Forgive me." They say, with the same faux soft smile.
His eyes narrow in suspicion. Whatever it was he let it go with a slight shrug. "Forgiven," he halfheartedly says. He turns back to his dessert, making sure not to completely turn his back. "What's your name then?"
"Yūki. Akira Yūki."
"I'm Isamu, but you already know that." He replies on the borderline of snark.
A light clicking of the tongue before the person- Yūki, catches himself. His posture straightens again and he puts back on his polite smile. Only this time is noticeably tight.
"So Yūki, are you another professor?" He would rather not talk to this person, but he's never been fond of silence. Besides, lingering usually indicates incompletion.
"...No, I'm a student, I'm twenty-two," Yūki responds. Such a curt answer for someone who looks like they have so much more to say. His eyes narrowed once again, "Really..?" Only a slight nod is his reply. Okay. New tactic. If he stays quiet they'll talk. Or go away. Either one he'll be satisfied with.
Isamu picks up his plate and slides slightly down the table. Maybe he'll snack on some bread; if he wants to be functional after drinking alcoholic coffee then that'll be the most intelligent thing to consider. He examines the table for a bit and puts a small serving of dumplings and bread on the far side of his plate. Better than eating only sweets, even if the ratio is horribly off.
His ears twitch in alertness as he hears shuffling to his side. He turns slightly, clicking his tongue in realization.
"What..?"
Why is this person still standing here and looking so, again- he can't put a name to their expression.
He's so good at this so what's happening now? Usually, people have left if he showed that the conversation was done on his end. Miscalculation. So rare yet nothing else describes this-
"Sorry." They speak hurriedly, cutting into his train of thought. They open their mouth before it shuts closed once more. Why are their apologies starting to sound so full? As if it holds other intentions? He's thinking too much into it, he tells himself. He's horribly off today...
Oh.
The dream perhaps? That's the... only logical reason for his lack of self today.
"I... my professors must be looking for me." They finally croak out with a wince. "I'll get going then. It was a pleasure to meet you." They say, more steady, more composed, they flash him one last faux smile before turning to leave. He watches their back, only turning when - Yūki was his name? Finally leaves.
A weird encounter indeed, he's even one to admit. The strangest perhaps, considering it even affected him. People being hard to read has never been a problem, along with understanding body language..?
Uncomfortable, unsettling. He's decided. He's not one for investment into anything really but he can already tell.
He wants to avoid this Akira at all costs.
Hm, there it goes again, Prince's classic 'I got rejected' look. He tries turning away, if he doesn't make eye contact then maybe he'll go cool off elsewhere..?
But of course, life is never that simple.
"Ew. Don't get your tears on me." He says, keeping Prince an arm's length away. Somehow this just makes the blond sulk even harder and continue to uselessly reach out for him. He awkwardly pats his head, where is Rai when he needed him most?
"There... there?"
Prince promptly stills, "There there? ...You're horrible at this." He deadpans, with a look of disappointment.
Isamu wishes to strangle him for his utter emotional instability. One second he's tearing up and the next he's bullying him?
He sighs heavily and dramatically. "I'm going to strangle you." He says just to let him know. Prince takes his hand from the attempted search for comfort and places it on his hip. "An overreaction." Prince determines, with a push of his glasses up his nose. Isamu's lips form a strained, tight smile. "Okay." He muttered, sounding not okay in the slightest.
The other just waves him off. "I'll just eat my troubles away since you're so insensitive." He says, turning away.
"No, you will not." Isamu grabs the blond's jacket and holds him still, "I'm rounding all of you up and we are leaving." Prince lets out a small huff, so he continues. "Fong Xie-Li doesn't even look like they want to be here." He adds with a glance in their direction. Fong Xie-Li looks to be engrossed in conversation, nodding and smiling along until the other turns their back, then their smile drops and they're flipping him off. Prince let out a soft snort having also seen the sight. "They seem pretty normal to me."
"That's because you're always on their nerves." Isamu retorts, dragging Prince and himself in Fong Xie-Li's direction. Prince's jacket being hardly zipped- and hardly even on, lets him drag him freely without any choking complaints, though, there are still complaints.
"Xie-Li," He whines. "Are we done here? Can we leave now?" He asks, hurriedly.
Fong Xie-Li gives him a strained smile, "Well, this is a gathering for us professors and staff. I need a reason to leave, you know that." They say in heavy implication, he can practically hear their desperation.
"Yeah, yes. Because... P-Prince is sick." He blurts out, unthinkingly. A flimsy lie, he could and has done better but right now this is his least of worries so he continues, "Yes, coughing and all." He nods as if that would make it more convincing. Prince, still being held by his jacket, gives an obvious fake cough, "Yes. Very sick." He says, voice laced with sarcasm.
He once again wishes to strangle him.
Fong Xie-Li picks up on their horrible acting and gives them an unimpressed stare. "Is that so?" They deadpan as a question. They both nod in unison. "I guess, I'll have to take you two home then!" They say cheerfully before putting on a face of concern, "I-I guess I'll have to take you home then." They echo sorrowfully. "You need rest surely." Fong Xie-Li turns to their senior with a lowered head. "Forgive me I'll have to excuse myself." They sound so remorseful it almost makes him laugh, Prince does and earns himself a sharp tug. He plays it off as a cough.
The older male smiles pityingly. "It is alright. Take care-" They don't get to hear the rest before Xie-Li is pulling them off toward the exit, slightly shaking in their contained laughter.
They, fortunately, make it outside before Fong Xie-Li laughs out and is unconfined. "That idiot." They laugh, he's almost taken aback by Xie-Li's unfiltered words. "You guys' acting is truly horrible by the way,"
"But you're not complaining." Prince points out with folded arms and a smug smile. Xie-Li hops into the driver's seat with a faint smile of their own, "No, I am not."
"You're one to talk, Prince," Isamu says. "That acting was downright tragic." Isamu teases.
Prince rolls his eyes in response. "Sorry that I couldn't quite talk with someone practically choking me to death." He states, unimpressed.
Isamu shrugs. "Seems like an overstatement." He throws back. Prince shoots him an offended look at him using his words against him.
"Are we going or not?" Fong Xie-Li questions.
"Yeah, let's just go home, I'm tired and you owe me."
Prince raises an eyebrow. "Home? We have class."
Now it's Isamu's turn to roll his eyes, "I don't care? I'm tired." After spending so much time around people, all he wanted to do was lock himself inside his room until evening.
"You want me to go in class and face the love of my life that just rejected me, alone? How heartless!" Isamu presses his lips together and gifts a blank stare. "You'll get over it." He replies. "You have a new 'love of your life' every few days." Prince ignores him- the second time that day, he bitterly notes. "Drive us to campus," Prince tells Fong Xie-Li, hopping into the passenger seat. Fong Xie-Li shrugs, turning the key and effectively roaring the car to life.
Isamu sits in the back stretched across all the seats. He sighs, resigned. "I don't see how I'll be any help but whatever."