āThere comes a time in everyoneās life when they have to decide who they want to be. I decided that I was not going to be the kind of person who let myself submit.ā
I think it looks rather fetching on you, Midori thought to him, her purring a steady thrum in his ear. The tiny kitten was presently draped over his shoulder, her overlarge eyes and rather adorable form making him appear perhaps a smidge less intimidating than he usually did. Perhaps the dark scowl on his face was sufficiently countering the effect, though, because the students still more or less scattered when he stalked his way down the hall. His eyes narrowed at the unwelcome comment, and he tugged uncomfortably at the prefectās armband now fit snugly over his left bicep.
āI think we both know youāre full of shit,ā he replied in a low mutter, then glared at a student who paused in her step long enough to gawk. Maybe this hadnāt been the best idea, butā¦ he found it was one he couldnāt really let go of, once it had wormed its way into his mind like so much poison. The problem was, poisonous wasnāt really how he thought about it, though he probably should.
It hadnāt taken much to get the approvalāthe Headmaster had been bothering him to take up these duties for as long as heād been at the school. Of the two purebloods currently attending the academy, it was perhaps reasonable to think that the universally-feared one might be a little more suited to the task than the universally-loved one. Nobody was going to form a horde around him or miss class to stare longingly as he passed, that was for sure. At least, he hadnāt thought so. Apparently, some people didnāt know what was good for them, because he had managed to acquire a (small, and possibly masochistic) entourage, at least until he sent them fleeing with a dead-eyed look that somehow also managed to convey threat even with the adorable creature purring away on his shoulder.
Why had he chosen to do this at all? It was something he only half-understood himself, really. The base of it was, more than anything, a desire to help Fujiwara somehow, and as for why he wanted that, wellā¦ if he remembered properly, that was the kind of thing friends did. Heād never really concerned himself with the magnitude of the sacrifices heād had to make for his friends or family, because those few people that managed to find themselves a place in his black, stony heart deserved everything he could give and then some. So, while maybe to most people, taking on all the responsibilities of a prefect was a bit much for someone to do as a favor (especially one unasked for), such thoughts had never occurred to him.
Eventually, he came upon the strange trio in the middle of the hallway, including his roommate, that weird sister of his (and he didnāt buy that she was human, but it wasnāt like he cared enough to say anything about it), and Fujiwara herself. He was inclined to just pass them by and let them talk about whatever they wanted in peace, but then he heard his fellow prefect whisper something most unusual. No more nightmares? What was that about?
It was enough to pause his tread, and he turned a void-dark gaze on the triplicate of people. āSome kind of problem here?ā he asked flatly, though it was difficult to keep a note of suspicion from his tone. He was deeply suspicious of that little girl Rosenkreuz seemed so keen to coddle like a porcelain doll, and his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly when they hit her, but then he ignored her like everything else, and settled for glancing first at Zenith, then Asuka. It was clear that whatever this was, it wasnāt exactly a normal conversation.
āI think we both know youāre full of shit,ā he replied in a low mutter, then glared at a student who paused in her step long enough to gawk. Maybe this hadnāt been the best idea, butā¦ he found it was one he couldnāt really let go of, once it had wormed its way into his mind like so much poison. The problem was, poisonous wasnāt really how he thought about it, though he probably should.
It hadnāt taken much to get the approvalāthe Headmaster had been bothering him to take up these duties for as long as heād been at the school. Of the two purebloods currently attending the academy, it was perhaps reasonable to think that the universally-feared one might be a little more suited to the task than the universally-loved one. Nobody was going to form a horde around him or miss class to stare longingly as he passed, that was for sure. At least, he hadnāt thought so. Apparently, some people didnāt know what was good for them, because he had managed to acquire a (small, and possibly masochistic) entourage, at least until he sent them fleeing with a dead-eyed look that somehow also managed to convey threat even with the adorable creature purring away on his shoulder.
Why had he chosen to do this at all? It was something he only half-understood himself, really. The base of it was, more than anything, a desire to help Fujiwara somehow, and as for why he wanted that, wellā¦ if he remembered properly, that was the kind of thing friends did. Heād never really concerned himself with the magnitude of the sacrifices heād had to make for his friends or family, because those few people that managed to find themselves a place in his black, stony heart deserved everything he could give and then some. So, while maybe to most people, taking on all the responsibilities of a prefect was a bit much for someone to do as a favor (especially one unasked for), such thoughts had never occurred to him.
Eventually, he came upon the strange trio in the middle of the hallway, including his roommate, that weird sister of his (and he didnāt buy that she was human, but it wasnāt like he cared enough to say anything about it), and Fujiwara herself. He was inclined to just pass them by and let them talk about whatever they wanted in peace, but then he heard his fellow prefect whisper something most unusual. No more nightmares? What was that about?
It was enough to pause his tread, and he turned a void-dark gaze on the triplicate of people. āSome kind of problem here?ā he asked flatly, though it was difficult to keep a note of suspicion from his tone. He was deeply suspicious of that little girl Rosenkreuz seemed so keen to coddle like a porcelain doll, and his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly when they hit her, but then he ignored her like everything else, and settled for glancing first at Zenith, then Asuka. It was clear that whatever this was, it wasnāt exactly a normal conversation.