[Y/n] pulled open her wardrobe doors, stepping into it with slight anxiousness. She needed to find a good place to hide her map.

After being left alone by Seishin and Draka, she'd waited in Draka's room for about half an hour before Seishin came back and told her she was free to go where she wanted to. She, of course, made a beeline for her own room. She couldn't risk the map being taken from her.

Rooting through the wardrobe for the perfect hiding place, [Y/n] came across a box. Inside the box was a pair of black polished shoes, black shoe polish, different colours of clothing thread, a pincushion with a sewing needle in it and some fabric samples. At the bottom was a small note.

'The tailor who made your clothes mentioned something about using these if they get damaged and you can't get to her; I hope you can make sense of them because it's all nonsense to me. I think she added the shoes for fun— not entirely sure. PS, the needle's sharp, don't hurt yourself. - Nyais.'

Nyais. He must've written this just before he moved her to this place. Tears welled up in [Y/n]'s eyes, but she wiped them away quickly. The thick smell of polish burned her nose and she decided it would be best to be done with this as soon as possible. She placed the map, as well as the note from Nyais, in the shoe. Grabbing the lid of the box, she shut it and hid it back under hoards of fancy tops and dresses that she'd likely never wear. Then she took one of the pieces of paper she'd removed from Draka's room and walked over to her bed, sitting down.

She began to doodle absentmindedly. She wanted to pass the time and didn't want to think about anything. Just her and the doodles.

About ten minutes of doodling had gone by with ease when [Y/n] was startled back into reality by a knock on her door. "Yes...?" she said quietly, though notably not 'come in'.

"It's me," Draka's voice chimed guiltily on the other side of her door, "can I come in?" He was greeted with silence on the other end, so he waited for about a minute, before speaking again. "Did you take my pen by any chance?" he continued. [Y/n] glanced down at the pen. He'd noticed that fast?

"Uh, yeah, I just felt like drawing for a little bit..." [Y/n] mumbled stiffly. She noticed her door handle turn and the door begin to open. Draka stood in the doorframe with a small smile on his face. He was beaten and bloody, a few knife scratches here and there, but mostly bruises.

"You should've just asked. I would've been more than happy to let you borrow them," he hummed, walking into the room, before catching sight of himself in a mirror and pausing. "Sorry you have to see me like this," he added with a sigh.

"It's—" she hesitated, "it's okay." Draka noticed the hesitation and looked down. "Did Seishin do that to you?" she questioned. He looked back up at her before nodding slowly. "He's so thin and spindly though," [Y/n] mumbled, clearly confused at how Seishin — who was neither as tall, muscular or strong as Draka — could beat the boy up that badly. And when he'd gone to see her after their fight, there hadn't been a single scratch on him.

"Jay taught me to fight properly," Draka muttered, "it seems Kaist has only taught Seishin and Kori foul play." [Y/n] was about to fall back into old habits and reassure Draka, but she bit down on her tongue to stop herself.

"No surprise there. That sorta style suits them," [Y/n] mumbled. A small smile formed on Draka's lips, half because he was happy that [Y/n] was insulting the others and half because she was comfortable enough to speak casually to him. It seemed as though he'd completely put the pervious exchange behind him; it made sense. If you could choose peace over conflict, why wouldn't you? But that defeats the entire prospect of a yandere, so there's still an element of question hanging in [Y/n]'s head as to whether he might snap or not.

Three thuds against the door alerted [Y/n] to the presence of another person. Draka's eyes narrowed.

"Hey [Y/n], couldja lemme in? My hands are full," Aytsa's voice chimed from the other side of the door. The scent of cooked food drifted to [Y/n]'s senses and she stood up to answer the door. Though as she removed herself from her bed, Draka waved his hand at her as a gesture for her to reseat herself, walking over to her door himself. [Y/n] didn't sit as instructed, mainly out of stubbornness, but also because she didn't fully believe Draka's actions were out of pure chivalry.

The brunet opened the door and stared at Aytsa blankly, who returned his gaze with a slightly confused one of his own.

"What are you doing in here?" Aytsa questioned. Draka extended his hand as a gesture for Aytsa to give him to tray of food. Instead, Aytsa used his foot to open the door a little wider, his brow furrowing in annoyance. "Can you let me in?"

"Draka, it's fine, let him in," [Y/n] put in. Draka's back obscured her vision, though [Y/n] could practically feel the smugness radiating off Aytsa in waves. After a long hesitation, Draka stepped out of the way, allowing Aytsa entrance. He sent one last glare to Aytsa before leaving the room, most likely to sulk. Aytsa stared at the door as it shut with an perplexed look on his face.

"Did someone put salt in his mouth or something?" Aytsa mumbled, walking over to [Y/n] and sitting beside her on her bed, placing the tray of food on her lap and the glass of water on her bedside table. "Also I'm so sorry we didn't get you food earlier — Rayne just told me you eat three times a day and I completely forgot... sorry!" Aytsa said quickly, looking visibly annoyed at himself. [Y/n] felt her relax a little at his sudden amiability, though she couldn't bring herself to smile at him. He killed Nyais.

"Thanks," [Y/n] said quietly, picking up her fork and pressing it into the bowl of basmati rice, chicken and some chicken-based sauce. "Who made this?" she questioned, surprised at how... gourmet it seemed, despite the ordinary concept.

"Rayne found a guy called Calen— he's pretty famous around here. Made farming a big thing for the production of cotton and stuff. Apparently he's also a great cook as he spent quite some time in human society, but he came back recently to be with his wife in her last few months. He's teaching Mitzu to cook, too," Aytsa explained. [Y/n] didn't really need all that information about the guy who cooked her food, but she was grateful for it nonetheless. Admittedly, she didn't show it that well. No matter how nice he was being right now, [Y/n] couldn't bring herself to smile at Aytsa.

"Rayne seems to have a lot of contacts," [Y/n] said quietly, eating some of the rice. Its flavour was superb; akin to something you might eat in a five star restaurant, despite the meal's simplicity. Aytsa clearly noticed her reaction as his eyes brightened a little.

"Taste good?" he questioned. [Y/n] responded with a small nod. Aytsa then paused thoughtfully, before remembering what he was going to say. "Yeah, Rayne knows everyone and everyone knows Rayne. I'd say he's the only person in this whole place who's—" Aytsa stopped himself. [Y/n] gave him a confused expression and he responded by letting out a slightly nervous laugh. "Sorry, I keep forgetting that I'm not supposed to tell you that much," he hummed.

"Can you tell me where the hell we are?" [Y/n] asked. It was a question she hadn't asked Nyais as she knew that inquiring too much might make him think she didn't trust him, but now she didn't really care.

"Underneath a mountain," Aytsa hummed.

"Do you know what the mountain is called? Or like, what country we're in?" [Y/n] pressed.

"Yup," Aytsa nodded.

"Then could you please te—"

"Ssh," Aytsa said quickly, placing his finger over [Y/n]'s lips. The girl stared at him with an annoyed and confused expression. Aytsa then removed his finger from her lips and leaned back a little. "Nope," he finished, a grin on his face. 'The hell was the shush thing for?!' [Y/n] wondered angrily. "Don't be mad~ it's not my choice," he shrugged.

"What, is it Seishin's?" [Y/n] deadpanned. To her surprise, Aytsa shook his head.

"Our tutors forbade us from telling you the name of this place or the name of the mountain we're under," Aytsa explained, before standing up. "You haven't used the pen I made for you," he mumbled, noticing Draka's pen beside hers on her bedside table.

"Oh, uh, Draka's just had ink in it— I haven't got any ink," [Y/n] said with plain expression. The consistent lack of emotion on her face had Aytsa worried, but he didn't mention it. Unlike a couple 0f the others, he did understand that it had to be hard for her to lose Nyais. He didn't care too much, but he did understand.

"Come to my room and grab some ink next time. I've got plenty," Aytsa smiled.

'I'm not sure that I want to,' [Y/n] thought with a mental sigh, though she nodded her head to avoid any more conflict. She'd done enough yelling today — shouting at people was not something she enjoyed doing. She wasn't in a hurry to take it up as a pastime.

"Sure. Thanks," [Y/n] dipped her head. Aytsa stood up from his seat beside her and walked over to her 'patchwork' door.

"I'll let you eat in peace. Call me if you need me," he smiled, exiting the room.

Oddly, the quiet didn't feel so serene anymore.

* * *

"Playing that violin won't get you anywhere if you don't know how to weaponise it," Jay huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. They were on the surface — it was Jay's preferred place of training — and the wind buffeted all three individuals. Even though they stood in the cover of three large pine trees, the mountain gales penetrated said shelter with ease. Draka glanced over at Mitzu with an amused look on his face; the silver haired boy turned to mouth a curse to Draka, only to receive a harsh whack on the head from a long stick that Jay had conjured up from god-knows-where. Mitzu's eyes widened a bit before his expression returned to his usual resting bitch face.

"Aye, so how'd you suppose I weaponise it more than I already have?" Mitzu frowned, waving the instrument around as though said action would emphasise his point.

"Well if you're going to land someone in a state of hypnosis you need to learn how to do it well. So I've found an expert on psychology to help you," he explained, before clicking his fingers. A familiar raven haired madman dropped down from one of the pines in a cinematic 'big reveal', a grin on his face.

"For fucks sake, not you again!" Mitzu snapped, rolling his eyes, "why does this bastard show up everywhere? What's the big deal? Wow, you rip people t0 shreds. So what?!" Mitzu raised his arms (and the violin) in the air in an attempt to exacerbate his anger.

"Well hello to you too," Rayne huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Are your students always this loud?" he turned to Jay with an eyebrow raised. Despite having gone to Rayne to ask for help, Jay didn't seem to have too much respect for the man. He sent Rayne a glare and brushed back his dark grey hair, before beckoning for Draka to follow him. The brunet did as suggested, though as they walked further away he kept turning to glance over at Mitzu and Rayne, curious to see what might happen.

"What?" Mitzu muttered, noticing the small grin forming on Rayne's face.

"You're quite weak, aren't you?" Rayne hummed, tilting his head.

"Fuck you," Mitzu responded without a second thought. Though his confidence slipped a little when Rayne pulled an unfamiliar metal object from his coat and pointed it at the silver haired male.

"Do you know what this is?" Rayne questioned. Mitzu hesitated before shaking his head. "This is a pistol. It's a human-made weapon that fires a metal object — a bullet — at fast speeds into a target. Like so," he hummed, pointing the gun at a branch and pulling the trigger. The loud bang that ensued made Mitzu jump out of his skin and subconsciously back away a little. The branch came clattering down beside him, the bullet nowhere to be seen.

"This object is strong enough to kill a vampire. It's also strong enough to permanently injure or disfigure one, even with our healing capabilities. Imagine if this high speed bullet were to ricochet throughout your entire body. It could tear you apart, you know?" Rayne explained, before pointing it back at Mitzu.

"Why are you telling me this?" Mitzu questioned.

"To warn you," he shrugged. "I have a thing about being talked down on. If you do it again, I'll shoot you right there," he said, pointing to a muscle in his lower thigh, "and you'll never be able to walk properly again. Do you understand?" Mitzu didn't move. "Do you understand?" Rayne repeated, slower and duller this time. The threat in his voice was enough to force even the proudest of people into submission — Mitzu nodded his head, though he kept his eyes fixed firmly on Rayne's, not wanting to seem weak.

"Alright. Good," Rayne nodded his head, before passing Mitzu a piece of paper. "I'm going to teach you a bit about psychology now. Take notes," he instructed, before pulling himself back up into the tree to get comfortable and begin his lesson.