Snippet #1985558

Masaru watched Hanone's entrance in silence, his face impassive. Underneath, amusement bubbled, like something had sprung a leak. He had to admit he did not think bursting out in uncontrollable laughter was an acceptable action for a Pureblood - then again, there was really not much that he did that would be considered acceptable for a Pureblood. Coming to Cross Academy in the first place was a disgraceful thing. Vampires avoiding their true nature, living alongside humans. Watchinng them, as Masaru did. His odd fascination with the humans, especially the prefects, had earned him some disgraceful nicknames amongst the other Purebloods. Vegetarian most prominent among them.

It was a struggle, but Masaru managed to keep a hold on his laughter at first. He met Hanone's furious gaze with even serenity, unfazed either by make-up or ranting. Silently, he agreed with Faudi's observation that Hanone made a truly dreadful drag queen. The barrettes certainly did him no good. For one instant, Masaru fancied himself in Hanone's place. What would he do? He would be the first to admit that he would likely make the girls bleed for it... but then, he was a Pureblood, not a physically weak noble. And they would never do it to him, anyways. They would never get the chance.

Not something he had to worry about.

He managed to keep a hold on his own emotions - right up until Faudi threw a glass of water in Hanone's face. The look on his vice dorm head's face was priceless. One instant Masaru's face was a perfect mask, and the next he had doubled over across his own knees, laughing. His voice was like a chiming bell, too soft for laughter, and yet so unexpected that it could be heard clear across the classroom. He closed his eyes, so he would not have to see Hanone's anger at being laughed at. Masaru had that right. Part of being a Pureblood. A part of being a Pureblood he felt no guilt at taking advantage of.

Only once he had regained his breath, and his control, did Masaru open his eyes and look up at Hanone. The Pureblood's face had returned to its stoic state, except for the slight twitch at the corner of his mouths, the slight crinkle around his brilliant scarlet eyes.

"He does not look much better as a clown," he observed evenly. With the make-up running down Hanone's face, a clown was the first thing that came into Masaru's mind.