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"What are you doing?" (Y/n) asked a few minutes later.

Kieran had grown bored of trying to draw a reaction out of her as she time after time ignored him, choosing to lose herself in her typing instead. He switched directions and pulled out a chair next to her, lounging in it as if it was a gilded golden throne and not a simple wooden chair, and he was its king.

She swore she could see a crown hanging crookedly across his pale locks.

Blatantly ignoring the (h/c)-haired girl's question, his burning eyes flickered up at her face before lowering to his hand, where he rubbed a lock of her hair between his fingers.

What's this, the silent treatment now? (Y/n) shrugged a shoulder away, the movement causing her hair to slip out of his hand. "Go sit in a corner and read a book," she suggested snidely. "Or try the bungee jumping idea."

"I have something better in mind," the male murmured, his eyes landing on her fingers that danced nonstop over the keyboard. "What are you doing anyway?" He leaned closer to get a better look at her screen, giving her a good whiff of sandalwood and citrus. At least he didn't bathe in cologne like many of the Summer Hall jocks did.

"I'm trying to see if I can disable the guns on the roof," she said absently, not so subtly leaning away from him. "If I can do that we could lure people outside and they'd get disqualified without being shot down. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not have any more blood on my hands."

Kieran, that annoying fox, noticed her discomfort and leaned closer, getting out of his chair altogether and resting his arms on the back of her chair. "You make it seem like I couldn't care less if someone died in my arms." He played it off casual, his eyes aglow with mirth.

She scooted forward. "I don't know, do you?"

"Depends on who the person is"—he moved even closer, almost leaning over her chair—"What about you? Would you feel remorse if you killed someone?"

Remorse? (Y/n) almost laughed out loud. This Game killed my freaking feelings. I don't have time for guilt.

"Depends on who it is," she shot back.

"Touché," he grinned and then raised his eyebrows as she nearly fell off her chair. "What kind of dance is this? How come I've never heard of it?"

"You must live under a rock then. It's super popular. Everyone's doing it."

"I even get a rock? How kind of you," Kieran smiled, playing along. "You'll have to teach me one day."

"Sure. The first step is to walk a mile in the opposite direction you're facing right now."

A small laugh escaped his lips. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get rid of me."

She smiled sweetly, her eyes still locked on the computer screen. "Damn, what gave it away?"

"You wound me, (N/n)-chan."

"Then put some spit on it."

She remained silent after that as she worked through several failed attempts at breaching the system that controlled the guns, hoping the boredom would send the white-haired male. But to her dismay, he seemed content with the silence. Almost too content. She guessed he didn't enjoy listening to himself talk all the time.

The afternoon sun faded seamlessly into the moon, the room's lights flickering on to bathe the two in a silvery glow. And sitting there while reading a book he'd pulled off the shelf like a Roman god, he could easily be mistaken for Adonis.

(Y/n) shuddered at the thought. Make that Lucifer.

Then she heard the clinking of metal against metal and the rustle of cloth. She turned her head to peer at him curiously before she registered what he was doing, and her face heated up as she looked away so fast her neck almost broke.

A lazy smirk spread across his lips as he chuckled at her reaction. "Found some extra clothes in the fashion department of Winter Hall," he said as he threw his shirt onto the back of the chair where his blazer was slung. "I think I got the right size for you."

"How do you know my size?" (Y/n) resisted the urge to move to another seat. One, it was too much effort and two, she didn't want to appear affected by the white-haired male's actions. His half-naked state was not something she wanted a repeat of, especially because of what she saw in that closet.

"Do you want to know?" As he reached for his pants, she decided it was a great time to start running.

"No, not really," she squeaked as she took the laptop with her and disconnected it from the outlet, fleeing to the safety of the couch in the corner. His laughter followed her as she curled up in a comfortable position, her face facing him. "Can you not undress here? There's something called a bathroom."

"Did I make you uncomfortable?" (Y/n) hated the tingles that went down her spine at his low voice. She could imagine the smug smirk on his face already. "Sorry, I didn't realize. Let's get you out of those clothes too, shall we—"

She coughed violently. "Woah, isn't this couch so comfortable?" She said loudly. "Great couch. Mhm, yeah."

"You prefer the couch over the bed? Well, I'm fine with that too."

It took her a while to process his meaning. And when she did, the flames had died from her face and her expression consisted of a straight line that was her mouth and a flat look in her eyes.

"Are you decent?" She threw over her shoulder. Not that she'd trust what he'd say. He's the type to say he was when he really wasn't.

"More than I'd like, but I'm willing to switch places."

(Y/n) ignored the wink he threw her way and gave him an unimpressed look. That seemed to be the only look she's been giving him lately. "You make me laugh."

He grinned and dipped down into a bow. "I try, my lady." He was wearing casual clothes, much like the clothes he sported the first time she spotted him in English class. Fortuna Institute did have a strict policy on dress code but since the uniforms were expensive and (Y/n) only had two pairs, she often broke that rule by wearing jeans instead. But Kieran obviously was a repeat offender. Him in a uniform was more shocking than him in casual clothes at school.

The white-haired male tossed a package at her. She caught it with both hands, fumbling a little. It was a new set of clothes.

He took a seat. "Is it to your liking?"

"If it's comfortable, fits, and isn't too revealing, I'm fine with anything. Now please leave so I can change."

Kieran blinked at her innocently. "What did you say?"

(Y/n) stifled the urge to groan and pointed at the door. His face lit up in understanding. "Yes, of course." He stood and closed the door. She groaned out loud this time and facepalmed.

"No, you tart! I'm not changing with you here. Nevermind, I'll just go to the bathroom."

His eyes twinkled as he found amusement in her irritation, only making her more annoyed. "Need help?"

"How do you think these clothes got on?"

It was the wrong thing to say, especially with the way his eyes darkened and his body tightened. But she didn't think much of it, rolling her eyes and cursing, boys. Hopeless, as she excused herself and passed him.

"(N/n)-chan," he stopped her just before she made it past the door.

She stopped and turned back. "What."

His cheeky grin was back despite her flat tone. "If you're not back by five minutes, I'm going in."

"The window is welcome to you anytime, donkey hat." (Y/n) slammed the door behind her as he laughed, but the door's mechanism slowed the impact so it closed with a soft click. A useful tool for teachers dealing with feisty students, but annoying for those who wanted to storm out with an impact.

(Y/n) didn't expect too much from Kieran's choice in clothes as she got into a bathroom stall and locked it behind her. There was more than enough room in the stall—which was more like an individual bathroom in its own right—to sit down and place the clothes on a small circular table next to her. Taking the clothes out of the plastic, she was relieved to see it wasn't anything indecent.

There was a gray turtleneck and jeans to match. Not her favorite choice of sleepwear, but it was something easy to move around in during the day. Underneath those clothes was another set. The actual sleepwear, she realized with slight embarrassment. They too were modest, a simple striped t-shirt and shorts.

Expect the shorts were pretty short. And (Y/n) was already pretty short. Maybe minus the "pretty" part. She was none of that.

(A/N: No, you all are beautiful^^)

Of course, I couldn't trust him to be completely serious. She held up the shorts and glared at them as if they would magically become longer. She sighed and put them on the table and rummaged through the package for anything else.

There were two pairs of undergarments. One was the normal kind. The other was the...lacy kind. It was obvious which one she chose—the other option was basically all string and no cloth! She pulled off the blazer and top that sudden felt disgusting and made quick work of her leggings and skirt. Shrugging on the shirt and shorts, she didn't bother to check her reflection as she shoved the dirty clothes into the bag. The uniform wasn't something she could clean in a school bathroom, or she'd ruin the fabric.

(Y/n) heard the familiar stride against the marble as the door opened and someone walked in. True to his word, it was Kieran checking in a few minutes too early, however. Disappointment was written across his face as he peeked in and spied her fully dressed.

"How nice of you to check in on me," she drawled flatly. "In case I fell into the toilet or something."

He grinned at the idea. "Always here for you, sweetheart. Ready to go?"

"Like we can go anywhere." She brushed past him and held the package to her chest. "And please, please stop with the nicknames."

"You're one to talk." He caught up to her brisk pace easily. Curse his long legs. "What was it you call me again?"

"You oompa loompa yeti-looking donkey hat snowface—"

"...I'm still not sure what I feel about that."

The sweet smell of jasmine floated through the air as she went back towards the room they were in, a shot of nostalgia straight to her heart as she crossed the threshold. Numbness crashed over her as the sound of Kieran's footsteps behind her faded away. The shadows danced closer, the scent of jasmine so heavy it was almost suffocating, filling her nose with bittersweet poison. She wanted to hold her breath but the memories were relentless, gripping her mind and refusing to let go.

She stopped.

Jasmine, (Y/n) frowned. If I remember correctly, Reese is allergic to jasmine. The text that had undone her and sent her world falling apart a few days ago never did state how he died, did he? All she knew was that the redhead was killed, and killed in Spring Hall.

Spring Hall, where she was right now, and with a heavy scent of jasmine in the air. If it lasted this long even with the windows closed, it meant it was enough to trigger Reese's allergies, she reasoned.

She was certain of it. Reese had been murdered, and by someone who knew of his allergies. Not many people did. The redhead could tolerate faint jasmine perfumes and jasmine air purifiers, but if it accumulated too much, he could start experiencing breathing problems. The only people who knew were the gym teacher, his and (Y/n)'s families, (Y/n), and his closest friends.

And...people who had access to the school records. The realization made her naturally drooping eyes fly open. Some who could peek into his profile found out about his allergies and purposefully triggered an attack. But who?

The words of the strange text messages rang loudly in her head. (Y/n) cast a discrete look at the white-haired male trailing behind her, her eyes hidden under her bangs. He didn't notice her musings and seemed to be in a good mood as he stared absentmindedly out the windows flanking their left side. He caught her looking at him and a slow smile spread across his face.

"Like what you see?"

Kieran was a prick and annoying as f—um, fudge puddings, but he was no killer, or so she believed. She rolled her eyes and ignored his remark. I'm going to lose my eyes in my skull at this rate.

Her next guess was Mr. Howards. Spring Hall was his work station, after all. It wouldn't be strange if it was him who did it. But (Y/n) couldn't see Mr. Howards working that way. She knew him to be an impatient man and a psychopath. Luring Reese to a room and triggering his allergies would take some amount of patience. Patience she was sure the blond man didn't have.

Part of her hoped Mr. Howards was alive so she could get answers out of him, before subjecting the man to the worst punishment she could think of. That would only be a temporary fix, she knew, and Mr. Howards wasn't the type of person to give her answers so easily. And if he did, what if the answer wasn't what she wanted to hear? What if it was the thing she was dreading the most, news that he did in fact kill Reese and dispose of his body, explaining why Elijah was unable to find him?

The memory of the silver-haired teacher made her almost choke up before a thought came to mind. How did Eli find all the bodies, and in such a short time too?

Questions burned in the back of her throat as they arrived at the classroom but there was no one to ask them to. She half-turned to Kieran for no particular reason, taking in his arrogant stance and molten gold eyes that seemed like burnt bronze at times. He smiled at her, confusion and surprise evident across his face as his eyes remained as emotionless as ever.

"You okay there? Need a hug?"

The offer sounded innocent enough but his suggestive wink said otherwise. "No thanks," (Y/n) said politely. "I'm going to sleep now. And"—she gave him a long, hard look—"No funny business from you, sir."

He shrugged and waggled his eyebrows. "I make no promises, love."

"Stop changing the nicknames. Actually, stop them altogether."

"Just trying to find the right one, mi cara."

She made a face. "Since when did you speak Italian?"

"What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

At least we got that straight. "Very nice, señor. Good night to you too." Ignoring his protests that he was no senior citizen, (Y/n) rolled over on the couch and used the cushions as a pillow as well as a barrier as she sank into slumber.

Sleep was a little different for her than others. Instead of surrendering to a dreamless or fantastical voice as others do, her sleep came in the form of almost a trance. It was like she was underwater, time going past in strange ways as the sound around her blurred out and warbled until it was incoherent. It meant (Y/n) was partially awake and could get up at any time.

Not that she would, anyway. Cuddling with her soft comforter and pillows was highly pleasant, especially on a Saturday. Ah, the bliss...

But she didn't have that luxury right now, especially not with a creature named Kieran Fujikawa, who her father would have a heart attack if he knew she was spending the night with. Actually, he'd have a fit, a stroke, and then a heart attack. She wasn't exactly happy with her situation either, but at least Kieran had the decency to sleep at the other end of the room.

She rolled over, the clock ticking softly in the cover of the night as she watched his larger form lean into a chair, his arms folded across his chest. He seemed to have otherworldly instincts because his eyes snapped open, twin golden orbs glowing softly in the dark as they locked onto her less impressive (e/c) ones.

"Need me to come over?" In the silence, his rumble of a voice seemed more intimidating, raking shivers over her skin. (Y/n) shivered involuntarily and shook her head before remembering he probably couldn't see her.

"No," she replied without hostility in her tone. "And thanks for the clothes." The (h/c)-haired rolled back over before he could see the heat in her cheeks. Thanking someone, especially if that someone was tall, infuriating, and good at getting under her skin like Kieran was something (Y/n) wasn't used to.

She missed the surprised look on his face that slowly fell into a soft smile. It was a genuine one this time, not his usual sh*t-eating smirks and grins.

"Good night, (Y/n)."

SPRING:HALL ━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━ мσяηιηg

Mornings. Delightful things, made even more delightful by the ache between her shoulders and the piercing glare of the sunlight directly into her eyes. (Y/n) grumbled irritably as she sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes tiredly, still feeling a little disoriented.

"Morning, sunshine." She looked up wearily as a figure sat down beside her and handed her a mug. It was Kieran. He had already freshened up, but his voice still had the husky morning voice sound to it.

She accepted the mug with both hands. "Thanks. What is it?" She took a sniff of the rich aroma.

"Be thankful we have Taiwanese students here," he smiled against his hand as he watched her down it without waiting for his reply. "Standard milk tea, made by yours truly."

(Y/n) lowered the cup and licked the creamy residue from her lips, not noticing the way his eyes dilated and followed the movement. "It's good," she murmured, setting the finished cup on her lap. "And, um, good morning."

The male took the mug from her hands and set it on a nearby table. "Anytime. Need anything else?"

She shook her head, feeling a little guilty with how kind he was being despite her attitude towards him earlier. "No, I'm fine. Just need the bathroom."

And then his wicked grin was back. "Allow me to help you change—"

"Absolutely not!"

She spoke too soon.

Moments later after she returned, Kieran was in the same spot he was, twirling the wrench she had tossed at him the night before around his fingers. When he spotted her, he gently threw the tool at her. "Fixed the cameras. They should be up and working now."

Wait, what? She stared bug-eyed at him before breaking off her stare and incredulously grabbed her phone from the chair. Sure enough, the Winter Hall cameras were working again.

"How—what—" She spluttered, not sure what to say. "How did you do that?"

"Have I gone up in your book? Didn't know all it took was replacing a couple of cameras. Gotta remember that for the future, love."

(Y/n) snapped out of her shock and rolled her eyes, tossing her pajamas onto the couch. "Haha, very funny. But thanks, I guess."

"Just thanks?" He followed her with his eyes as she took out the laptop again. "Nothing else?"

She sighed and paused before opening it. "I don't think I can give you a proper thank you in this context. Where am I going to find something to satisfy your ego?"

His smile was blinding. "There are other things you could satisfy."

"Yeah, like the requirements for the most sarcastic."

"That wasn't what I was going for, but that's a charming part of you I like."

She ignored his wink and focused on her laptop. She was pretty confident she managed to turn the guns on the roof off yesterday, but she had to make sure to be safe. The guns were motion and heat-censored, aiming at anything that had body heat and moved, which meant any poor bird or squirrel would also be shot down.

Everything was in the clear. She'd turned off the guns, which meant she could very well run out of here now. So what was stopping her? The answer was obvious.

(Y/n) turned to half-face the white-haired male, her brow furrowed as she chewed on her lip in thought. Another look at the cameras, specifically the Winter Hall ones, made her a little uneasy. Something didn't make sense.

Even if the cameras had blind spots, she mused. Is it really possible to move around the school while avoiding them altogether? By that logic, Jason should've shown up at least once in the cameras. But neither June nor I saw him, and Keller was sure he's also a player.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Kieran's smooth voice broke her out of her musings. "Something on your mind?"

"Sort of...it's nothing."

"Say it," he pressed. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "It's really nothing important. Just thinking."

"Hmm..." He eyes her suspiciously before reaching over and snatching the bag from her before she could protest. "This bag is pretty light. I might accidentally chuck it out the window, you know? Oh, whoops, it's going—"

"Okay, okay, I'll say it!" (Y/n) scowled and managed to wrestle the bag out of his grip. "But you owe me a penny now."

He lifted a brow in amusement. "Do I now?"

"Yes. And I expect it to be a shiny one." Then she sighed. "I was just thinking about...things."

"Things?" He echoed.

"Things about the Game. Jason. Why the headmaster isn't locked up in an asylum."

"That's a good question," Kieran chuckled. "I've met the man a few times, and he rubs me the wrong way. Makes sense, considering he's the prick's dad."

"Rubs you the wrong way? Never thought I'd hear you say that. It's usually you doing the unnerving."

A roguish grin danced on his lips as he oh-so-casually slung an arm around her shoulders. "Unnerving? Do I unnerve you, love?"

(Y/n) oh-so-discreetly shrugged his arm off. "You're the annoying stain on my shirt I can't get rid of."

"Can you make me a handsome stain?"

"You can be an ice cream stain."

He continued raining questions upon questions on her as they walked. (Y/n) was heading for her English classroom, aka Mr. Howards' classroom and the last place she was sure Reese had been at. The questions were harmless questions, things about her life, hobbies, and the color of her underwear. I mean, if he's the one who chose the clothes wouldn't he already know?

Sexual harassment aside, Kieran was proving to be not 100% annoying prick and only actually 70%.

"What, you didn't wear the lacy pair I chose for you? Maybe I should've grabbed the pink ones after all."

Make that 80%.

It was raining outside, a light, diagonally driving rain that painted little splatters of gray against the side of the building and caressed each blade of grass in the school gardens. Raindrops trickled down the glass of the windows before pooling at the bottom and breaking up in restless splashes of water. She wrinkled her nose at the sight. She hated rain; there was definitely no going outside today.

They arrived at the room with Kieran close behind her as if he was her shadow. Jasmine still hung heavily in the air, not as much as before, but still enough for it to be the first thing she noticed as soon as she stepped into the room.

She cast a sneaky look at the male beside her. Half of her intentions was to find any trace of Reese's whereabouts as she clung to the hope that the redhead was alive, and June had been mistaken. The other half was to gauge Kieran's reaction. If the text messages were true, Kieran might have a part to play in all of this.

To his credit, his expression didn't change. "Did Charles start wearing perfume or is this a new air freshener?" He commented, stepping into the room. "Jasmine's not really my thing."

"Do I want to know what your thing is?" She asked warily.

He smirked. "Come closer and you'll find out."

Her refusal was immediate. "No thanks."

(Y/n)'s feet carried her to the teacher's table. Rather than start by sifting through the many student tables, it was more logical to check Mr. Howards' desk first. As she went around it, an image of Nicholas's murdered body flashed before her eyes, and she nearly fell over.

"Woah!" Kieran caught her arm before she could fall. "You okay there?"

She felt like he suddenly grew two heads when she looked up at him. "I'm great, thanks." The (h/c)-haired girl turned back to the table and pushed around the papers. Mr. Howards usually kept his desk neat and tidy, but now it looked like a train ran over it. But the rest of the room looked untouched, with the tables arranged in military precision.

Someone had gone through just the teacher's desk. But who?

A small voice in the back of her head told her all she needed to know. The answer was obvious. It had to be Reese. Reese was here for some reason, either Mr. Brooks if she was to trust June or Mr. Howards if she was to trust the facts, filled the room with jasmine.

But the thought was anything but reassuring. (Y/n) knew how bad his asthma attacks could get. As a child, Reese was sent to the hospital more times than she could count when his asthma got really bad, so it was still unclear if Reese was alive or...not.

Finding nothing of use on the table, (Y/n) turned to the drawers. She started with the smaller cabinets, pulling them open and rummaging through them to find nothing but school supplies and test papers. As if I can use these to cheat now, she thought half-heartedly as she found the project paper. It was the project she was supposed to do with Kieran. All her projects were the last thing on her mind now, especially when her group members were all missing in action.

There was one last drawer left, and it was the largest one. She pulled it open; it was unlocked. Nothing looked special at first glance, but something caught her eye. There was a little crack by the corner—it was a false bottom. And when she lifted it up as Kieran watched from over her shoulder, the sight made both of them pause.

Kieran made a disgusted sound at the back of his throat. "Knew that f*cker was sick in the head," she heard him mutter with amusement lacing his voice. "Not that I'm any better."

The countless pictures of Ms. Florence made her sick. What made them worse was the ones Mr. Howards had cut out and glued onto his own. She really didn't want to touch them but she took one and flipped it over. There were words on the back of each, from things like "You look beautiful today as usual, Alice" and "Our first date" to more disturbing things like "You're mine" and "Who's this a**hole?"

She heard Mr. Howards was obsessed with Ms. Florence, but she never knew it was this bad. She tossed the pictures back and wiped her hands on her jeans, feeling as if a thin layer of grime coated them.

She turned to Kieran. "What the hell was that?" (Y/n) shuddered. "Did you know about this?"

His calm expression did nothing to settle the twisting fear that grew in her stomach. He caught her eye and hesitated. When she gave him a harder look to urge him to speak, he seemed to resolve himself of something.

The male's eyes searched her face as he spoke slowly, waiting for her reaction. "We know everything, love."