[breaks in this journal with a very special crack AU]

[tfy]

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[tfy]

[When Hiyori first toured Reimei Academy, he thought he'd ended up in Hell.

A dazzling youth, spent striving together with one's friends and laughing at each other's follies: there was absolutely no chance of that happening here. Everyone at Reimei bore eyes full of hatred, and the mood was dismal everywhere he turned. This wasn't a place where would-be idols chased their dreams; this was a place where hopes and dreams came to die. That much was obvious.

He'd been about to give up on Reimei, and accept admission at Shuuetsu. But something—or rather, someone—made him stop in his tracks. Through a window, he saw an unknown boy practicing in the courtyard. Singing to himself, dancing to a tune that Hiyori couldn't hear. The boy had no practice room, no sound equipment and no dance coach; most likely, he didn't have access to those things. According to Ibara, the black jersey and black sweats were the standardized roomwear of Non-Special Students: a group at Reimei who was treated similar to slaves. Those who failed their audition had no chance of becoming Specials, and therefore no chance of becoming idols. It was a cruel system that even the noble-born Hiyori found distasteful.

But he'd been struck by what he saw that day, in spite of—or perhaps because of—its futility. That boy was trapped in the depths of Hell, doomed never to amount to anything, and yet somehow, he still carried hope in his heart. He still had a dream. And he alone was working hard. Hiyori thought that everyone should learn from that boy's example, including himself. And so that was why he chose to enter Reimei: he'd start over from the bottom and claw his way out of Hell, just like that boy was striving to do.

Now, it's the third week of school, and things have honestly been even drearier than he imagined. It's not quite the same as Yumenosaki, in that the students don't lack ambition, but everyone does seem to be lacking hope. Even the Special Students talk about struggling, about being in debt and unable to find work. There's little friendship amongst the student body, everyone seeing each other as competition for limited jobs. In their frustration, the overburdened Special Students take out their anger on Non-Specials, ordering them around and sometimes dealing physical blows. And the Non-Specials accept the abuse, for lack of any other choice—though they do glare balefully as they go about their day, cleaning up after Specials and performing menial tasks.

Hiyori has been subject to such glares, of course. He's been subject to a lot of stares, curious and envious and wary, since his reputation precedes him. He lets it all roll off him, or tries to. He keeps his head held high, as befitting someone of his status. Still, to go from Yumenosaki, where he was hailed as one of fine, ushering in a glorious new era of change, to this Hell where people look at him with loathing in their eyes... it really is unpleasant. What terrible weather.

He'd hoped to see that boy again. See him, evaluate him, maybe even choose him. The plan, after all, is for Eden to have four members split between two units. His role, Nagisa's role, and Ibara's role have all been set in stone, but that still leaves room for one person, and as the leader of Eve, Hiyori has been permitted to select his own partner—if anyone catches his eye, that is.

But that boy is nowhere to be seen. Hiyori has looked for him, even wandered the halls where Non-Special Students are taught under the guise of being "lost," to great fanfare and greater suspicion. But he hasn't found the boy who made him transfer, and after two long weeks at Reimei, Hiyori can safely say there's no one else who strikes him as a potential partner.

So, he's unsatisfied. Unsatisfied and bored. And in his boredom, he finds himself reverting to his old ways: cutting class, relieving stress with shopping. No one ever reprimands him, and while Special Students do have rules they're expected to follow, those rules aren't so strictly enforced. And Special Students can leave the grounds without permission, so that's exactly what Hiyori does, wandering the streets day after day. It's getting dark, however, so he should really be heading back...

And that's when he sees him.

Not That boy, but another one. He cuts through a public park in order to get back to the dorms faster, only to find a sight that vexes him: a boy laid out on a bench, with a blanket pulled up underneath his chin. He's got messy red hair, and bright aqua-colored eyes, which snap onto Hiyori's face immediately. One glance at the ground, where a handful of belongings sit next to the bench, tells Hiyori that he intends to set up camp here. To sleep here. Which is not only dangerous, but also illegal!

In that moment, a few choices present themselves. He could alert the authorities. Or he could ignore the boy—a little hard to do, since the boy's already noticed him, but there's nothing stopping him from running. He's under no obligation to do anything. He's just a student; common sense tells him not to get involved.

But as his eyes lock onto those aqua-colored ones, something stirs within his chest. It's similar to the emotion he felt when he watched that boy through the window—and similar to how he felt when Nagisa was first introduced to him. A smattering of pity, a protective urge, and something akin to admiration. Because Hiyori, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, has never had to scrape and struggle. And when he sees someone helpless and pathetic, fragile and misfortunate, like an abandoned child or a scared pet... he just can't leave them alone.

So, there's his good deed for the day.

He urges the boy to be quiet as they approach the dorms. With the exception of family and teachers, non-students aren't allowed on Reimei's campus. He'd be in deep trouble if he got caught sneaking someone into the dorms. But fortunately, the dorm mother isn't around, and in the two-plus weeks that Hiyori's been at Reimei, he hasn't had any surprise room checks. They encounter no one as they enter the grounds, and Hiyori is able to guide the boy safely into his room: a dorm that was made for two people, but which Hiyori has been living in alone.

The first thing he does is make the boy take a bath. He can't have some homeless person tracking in dirt. He does notice, however, that aside from his messy hair, Hiiro seems fairly well-groomed—he doesn't stink, and his clothes aren't torn, which means he probably has access to showers somewhere. That, or he just arrived in the city. Either way, Hiiro will find no shortage of products to choose from in the bathroom: scented soaps and lotions, shampoo and conditioner, moisturizer and cosmetics. There might even be a bath bomb or two! Hiiro is welcome to all of it.

Once that's done, Hiyori gets up from his desk.]

Hello again! ♪ I trust you had a good bath?

[He greets Hiiro with an energetic smile. The question might have been rhetorical, since he doesn't give his guest much time to answer.]

Recently, I've made a hobby of collecting bath oils! I'd recommend the vanilla rose oil, myself. Though I suppose it's a little late for that now...

[Anyway.

He steps up to the sofa, leaning down to pat one of the cushions lightly. Have a seat, he seems to be saying.]

I'm tempted to cut to the chase and ask what you were doing, sleeping in such a place. But first, I should ask your name... at least, I think that's how this works?

[He thinks. He isn't sure, since he's never taken in a homeless stray before. His family abides by the principle of Noblesse Oblige, but that's certainly a new one for him.]