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(Y/n) White was very much tired and not at all amused. Spending the day following Jaehyun's whims and trying not to get caught in the crossfire between Kieran and Leon had really taken its toll. And the cryptic message from June didn't help. What did she mean, Jason had been dead from the start? He was a player, was he not? Keller even swore he saw him.

So then...was June lying? She had no reason to lie to the (h/c)-haired girl, did she? And if she was telling the truth, who killed Jason?

Not to mention the fact that (Y/n), being the smart and sassy little sh*t she is, got herself locked out of her room when chasing Tristan 2.0. What made it worse was the fact that she didn't get locked out of the room in the hallway.

Oh yes. She was currently standing in the balcony, shivering under the full brunt of the night breeze. At least there were comfortable wooden seats she could rest her legs in and a beautiful night sky with multicolored star points and dark gray clouds smudged across the starry blanket. The moon hung like a pearl in the sky, a pearl eaten at and eroded by whatever monster lived up above her.

The gardens and woods surrounding the dormitory were silent save for the occasional bird song and cricket. She could no longer hear Kieran's mocking laugh, Leon's furious growls, or Tristan's irritated groan as he watched the two. That was nice at least. She didn't know where Jaehyun went when she left him, but she was willing to bet it was to his studio.

At least she had Tristan 2.0 with her. When she got out of here, she was taking the dog with her and renaming it. Tristan 2.0 was just a nickname to get on the real Tristan's nerves. Why call a perfectly good dog by that prick's name forever when there were better names to give? (Y/n) was going to need a lot of intentionally inflicted amnesia after all this. Maybe a few tumbles down the stairwell would do the trick.

Okay, I'm starting to freeze, she shivered, hugging Tristan 2.0 tight enough to regain some heat but not so much as to hurt it. The canine lolled its tongue out, obviously not feeling the cold or its owner's pain, and bounded out of the girl's arms. (Y/n) stared after its fluffy tail with a frown. You traitor. Just like the real thing. Cold much.

Then, voices. She heard a couple of voices slowly come into earshot. She didn't know whether to be relieved or dismayed by the sound, but considering her current situation, she was leaning towards the former. (Y/n) wasn't quite ready to freeze to death right now, thank you very much.

"Traffic?" She heard Kieran scoff as he and another pair of footsteps came closer to her door. "I've never experienced traffic in my life. Not on the road, at least."

"Manchester's traffic is already bad enough," Tristan mused. "Rome's will be worse. It should be enough to deter your parents, however."

(Y/n) frowned. Parents? She almost forgot those four humanoids had parents.

"Are they coming here?" There was a hint of disgust and contempt in the white-haired male's voice that surprised her. Did they all not get along with their family?

"Perhaps. I'm not sure."

She heard Kieran let out a long sigh as they stopped just outside her room. "It's fine. Whatever. We can leave anytime. And if traffic gets bad, we'll get Leo-chan to carry the car on his shoulders and run down the highway. Right, Leo-chan~?"

"I'll lift you over my shoulder and snap you in half, you piece of sh*t," was Leon's unsurprisingly irate reply.

"Your love is brutal~ Musicians should be gentler, especially to the ladies. (Y/n)-chan won't like you if you keep acting like that."

"You bloody bugger—"

"You two bicker like children," came Tristan's exasperated sigh. "Must you provoke him every time, Fujikawa?"

"It's too funny though~ Anyway, folks. It's awfully quiet in (Y/n)-chan's room. Ten grand she escaped?"

"A hundred she didn't," Tristan drawled. "That idiot's probably asleep. As usual."

Wow, rude, (Y/n) huffed indignantly in her position with her ear pressed against the glass. The voices were faint enough as it is from inside her room and the extra layer of glass didn't help. She didn't bother calling for them. Come inside and unlock this already. Never thought I'd actually want that.

The door swung open, light spilling into the dim room. The first person she saw was Tristan. Kieran poked his head into the room from over the blue-haired male's head, slinging an arm around the other male's shoulders as their line of attention turned immediately to the bed where (Y/n) should and rather be right now. Leon was in the hallway like his usual self.

Tristan raised his eyebrows and pulled down the covers. "(Y/n)?"

"Ooh, maybe she's here." Kieran lifted up a mug. "Nope~"

Fudge you too, snowman, (Y/n) thought bitterly. At this rate, I'm going to become one of his kind. She knocked on the glass sharply, wincing at the pain from the impact.

Leon noticed her first, his eyes widening slightly before he wordless crossed the space between them and unlocked the balcony door. She half-tumbled half-rolled into the room, still shivering from the chilling winds.

Kieran placed a comforter around her shoulders. "Does getting locked out on the terrace happen a lot for you?"

She scowled at his teasing tone and drew the comforter tighter around herself. "Heard you coming. Had to get cover."

"Didn't know you thought so highly of me," he grinned smugly. "Hold me in your mind more often. I have that effect on people."

"Yeah, your face is terrifying."

"I think you stuttered, (Y/n)-chan. You mean handsome."

"No, I really don't—"

"Perfection?" He stroked his chin with a hand, a familiar cocky smirk appearing on his face. "Beautiful? Jaw-droppingly stunning? Oh, you make me blush, love. Nothing I haven't heard before though."

"How your ego remains so insufferably large after all these years astounds me," Tristan muttered from behind them. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed before dropping his hand. "I came by to see if you've received the package. Seeing that you have"—his eyes flickered to the laptop—"And you've been quite busy, I'll take my leave now. Good night, (Y/n)."

"Not sure if it's a good one now," (Y/n) grumbled as she watched the blue-haired male, her last line of hope, leave the bedroom. "Snowman's face is going to appear in my nightmares."

"Having fantasies of me, are we?" The annoying one said. "I see you in my dreams too, only the same way you came into this world."

She gave him a look of confusion and boredom. It was an impressive mix. "Fine. I'll bite. What do you mean?"

His cheeky grin was world-ending. "Naked and scre—"

But he never got to finish that sentence. Leon, deciding he had enough of the white-haired male's talk that would make any kid's ears bleed, snatched the male back by his collar and dragged him protests and all out the door. He closed it solidly, ignoring Kieran's cries of outrage. Something about how he shouldn't be manhandled that way.

He's more useful than Tristan 2.0. She eyed the trembling puppy that crept out once Kieran was nowhere to be seen. I still don't know what the H-E-double hockey sticks that Yeti did to her.

His gaze connected with hers. He dipped his head wordlessly and left the room, closing the door behind him and muting Kieran's pouting fest in the hallway. But that wouldn't be the last she'd hear from Kieran Fujikawa.

The next day, she was cornered in the library when she was attempting to find Tristan and see if she could bargain another visit to Reese. Unfortunately, Tristan wasn't there. Kieran was. How he managed to be in every place she was, that was beyond her. He was the goddamned Cheshire Cat for all she knew.

"Thanks for the company," she said monotonously, trying to slip out from where Kieran had cornered her against a bookshelf. "No, really. But I can't trouble you anymore so I'll be going now."

"Already?" Kieran purred, leaning against the shelf and folding his arms across his chest. "You've only just arrived."

"And stayed for far too long," she muttered under her breath. Then in a louder voice, "Sucks for you but I'm going. Have fun, um, doing whatever you're doing." She tried to go around him.

He didn't give up. He stepped into her path, his smirk as infuriating as always. "When will you be back? Or would you like to join me?"

"Maybe in a few lifetimes," she said, slowly inching away. "And no thanks."

"I can't wait that long," he said, his tone dropping. "I'll go crazy waiting for you. If you have time to spare for Trish-chan then spare some for me. I'll certainly do better than him; I can fill more than just time."

Her face was a mixture of utter revulsion, disdain, pity, and disappointment. It was a sight to behold. Something Jaehyun would be more than happy to paint and display in the Louvre.

"Fine, I was wrong. Stop making that face. No girl should make that face."

"This is the face I was born with," (Y/n) huffed, rearranging her features back to her usual bored one. "It's not like I can just change it on a whim."

"Actually, you could. How else do you think Leo-chan's dad got so high up the power ladder?"

"Wouldn't you know?" It was more of a joke than anything, a passing remark. Something she said offhandedly and really didn't mean much about. But it was enough to strike fear into the white-haired male's heart.

She...knows? Then he shook his head, waving the notion off. No, impossible. She's an idiot. There's no way she'd be able to read that deep into it.

Even so, a small traitorous part of him continued to hope. A small part of him hoped that she could see what was underneath. That she could find the real him that even he himself lost. He didn't know why he felt so strongly about her and no one else, but he had a pretty good idea.

What others would label as obsession, he called interest.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction—What is he even distracted by? She thought before shrugging—(Y/n) carefully backed away from the biohazardous creature. When he didn't seem to react, she spun around and began running.

And got yanked backward, the breath knocked from her lungs.

"I thought you were supposed to be nice to the female population or something," the (h/c)-haired girl scowled, massaging her neck where he yanked her collar. "You almost killed me!"

"Keyword, almost," the male winked. "I'd kill you with my love."

"Ew, no thanks."

"And you say I'm not a gentleman," he shook his head in disbelief and let out a pitiful sigh. "Oh, woe is me. I'm stuck with a being that does not comprehend my charm." He pinched the bridge of his nose for added drama since his pompous flair and breathy sighs weren't enough.

"Oh, sorry," she muttered with an eye roll. "I guess no lady ever turns down sir sno—Kieran."

"That's not true~"

Woah! (Y/n) nearly fell over as he suddenly leaned towards her, lifting her chin with a finger as he lowered his eyes, giving her a full eyeful of sharp cheekbones, flawless skin, and a borderline cocky smirk that screamed danger.

"I'm on a losing streak with you," he murmured, his eyes drifting down her face. "Perhaps—"

"I just called waste disposal services," she deadpanned, hitting his forehead with the side of her hand. "They're coming over to pick up the trash."

Kieran pulled back with a hiss, a hand over the spot she'd hit him. "Are you calling me a piece of trash?"

She stared innocently back. "I didn't say anything. Your words, not mine."

"And here I thought you'd come around to my charms," he sighed dejectedly, though his golden eyes didn't lose that flirty twinkle in them. "How about we—"

"No."

"You really gotta lose that habit of cutting me off, (Y/n)-chan..."

"And you need to lose all"—she gestured towards him with a cynical eye—"That."

He tilted his head questioningly. "That what?"

"You know, the switch. The switch you turn on every time you're near some girl or, well, Leon. You're almost charming when you...um, don't have ulterior motives."

"Very flattering," he chuckled, crossing his arms with a wicked look. "You imagine it's possible not to have ulterior motives?"

"Well, yeah," she said matter-of-factly. Isn't it? "Tons of people. People who just want to live their life. Don't really want much from other people besides, I don't know, friendship."

He made a knowing hum from the back of his throat. "You're talking about your friends, aren't you?"

Her chest tightened and her eyes dropped to her feet. "Yeah, I guess."

Thankfully, he caught on and changed the subject. "Now, what were you saying?" He said with a teasing grin. "That I'm almost charming?"

Here we go again. "Almost. Note the ALMOST."

"Almost is close enough to 'pretty sure.' I didn't think you actually liked me so much, almost had me fooled."

(Y/n) took a retreating step. "How you managed to get that from my words is incredible. Anyway, I gotta go. Got stuff to do."

"Stuff that involves Trish-chan?" Kieran watched her slink away but made no move to stop her. His eyes made a thought crawl up her shivering spine. How much did he know? Out of the whole group, Kieran was the hardest to deal with. Playing along with Jaehyun made him happy. Staying away from Kieran and remaining inside the building satisfied Leon. And annoying the hell out of Tristan and apologizing to him later usually did the trick.

But Kieran? (Y/n) had no idea how to even start with that one. Don't tell me I'm going to need to start flirting back? The idea made her cringe and want to barf at the same time. I'd rather perform in one of Reese's plays than do that.

"Not sure how that's any of your business," she said over her shoulder. "Using your words, everyone has an ulterior motive. Maybe I want an upgrade on the bed."

"Or the wardrobe." He flashed a beguiling smirk. "I take it you haven't seen the clothes I picked out for you."

Sunflower wasn't kidding when he said snowman picked my clothes out, was he? "No, I did not."

His smile only broadened. "You'll like them."

I very much doubt that. Without bothering to reply to the white-haired male, she darted out of the library faster than what should be possible for her. She descended in a hallway she's never seen before. It was like the walls she'd seen the first time she came to this dorm for the school projects—clean, alluring, and filled with legions of jaw-dropping masterpieces. But these were new ones. They were ones she's never seen before.

Oil paintings of chimeras and humans, canvases depicting beautiful fairy tales fading into twisted nightmares, marble statues of fallen angels and triumphant devils, busts of beautiful women with strange eyes and tears. Paint seemed to spill from an eye of a bust near her, a waterfall of cascading blues, purples, and whites. Tears of colors on an otherwise colorless face. Cracked skin, black lips, and cold, eyeless sockets.

She shivered at the design and stepped away. Even without eyes, the sculpture seemed to be looking at her. Watching her. A guardian of this mysterious fortress filled with innumerable questions but no answers to match. (Y/n) backed away and dove into another hallway.

It took her to a large white room. Windows lined one side and mirrors on the other. The floor was a birch wood, much like that of a dance studio. Potted plants hung from the ceiling, ivy vines spilling off the delicate white and gold. Sunlight dappled the floors and chased away the shadows. An easel stood in one corner next to her, a paintbrush with drying paint lying on its side. The canvas held nothing but a few red streaks down it as if some animal had ripped its claws into the fabric, tearing three bloody wounds.

But what caught her eye and stopped her breath in this fairytale-like atmosphere was not the beautiful lights overhead. Not the calligraphy on the walls that held aesthetic sentences like "dreamer" and "only magic allowed here." And not even the satisfying way the floor held her but seemed to creak with each step as well.

It was the huge, sprawling painting that spanned an entire wall, the wall facing her. It looked like a scene straight out of a Brothers Grimm fairytale. The top portion had a dreamlike atmosphere; pastel pink and orange skies with white smudged clouds. A lovely rendition of a sun peeking out from behind clouds overhead. Faint white-capped mountains in the background tinted pink. And in the foreground, a beautiful lake reflecting in the dreamscape sky and a little boy peering into it, his hair a mass of white-gold and his eyes two twin rubies. And his face, that innocent, childlike curiosity that made her empathy rise.

But below it, mirroring the image was an upside-down version. The same mountains, the same lake, and the same boy. Only, a beautiful milky crescent milky moon hung in the sky instead of the sun. The mountains looked twisted, more like sharp knives shredding the clouds into pieces. And the waters, dark and murky, still bright against the blacks and blues and purples of the background.

Lastly the boy—his golden hair gone and replaced by a dark blue. His curious ruby eyes missing and now empty sockets dripping blood, his expression one of despair. His hands, small but hideously clawed, gripping into the earth by the sinister lake as he stared down—or up—at the other child. At what could and should've been.

Two boys, mirror images of each other, but nothing could be more different about them.

Her eyes caught on a golden plate near the floor. Right before the magnificent canvas framed in silver-gray wood was a little metal placard. A series of little letters were etched neatly into it.

"Mirror Lake," she read out loud, her lips sounding each syllable out slowly. And underneath it, "Kim Jaehyun...!"

Her head snapped up and she scanned her surroundings, half-expecting the blond to pop up like Kieran does. Never say that name, she scolded herself. Say the name of the Devil and you will summon the Devil.

As her eyes swept over the tidy room, it caught on an outline of a door she hadn't seen before. A door? Woah, is this like their secret safe or something? I should steal this, grab Reese, and run. She reached for a doorknob before realizing there was none. It was a sliding door.

She curled her fingers into the groove and slid it open, just a little bit, and cautiously poked her head inside. If I step in, this is the part where the door closes and locks behind me. Not gonna happen in my book. Then she groaned, mentally scolding herself for her paranoia. I'm beginning to sound like the headmaster. But can you blame me?

The room inside was just as beautiful as the adjoined one. But where the other room was white, stunning, precise, and beautiful in a clean and sharp way, this one was beautiful in a whole new direction. Calming, tranquil, and painted in soft tones of matcha greens and chartreuse, it was a Japanese-themed space that couldn't be any more out of place. Green tatami mats, paper sliding screens, brown tatami floor coffee table surrounded by matching cushions, and a white porcelain vase decorated with blue designs and filled with purple Japanese irises.

There was even a green calligraphy scroll with elegant brush strokes coming together to form Japanese characters she couldn't read. A painting of cranes and another of cherry blossoms. The whole place screamed oriental.

And in the heart of that room sat the blond boy with his legs folded underneath him. He was bent over a large white canvas. No doubt painting. She approached him slowly, not without taking off her shoes since the boy was only wearing socks himself. She looked over his shoulder quietly.

He was halfway into the artwork. There was a blood-red moon painted in the center of the sky towards the top, little bits of it breaking off into crimson and white leaves. A gray tree rose up proudly in the center of the canvas, leafless but elegant, blocking out much of the moon with its branches. And underneath it, standing in the gray grass, Jaehyun was painting a figure.

"That's really something," (Y/n) chided from behind him. "What's it called?"

"W-wha—(Y/n)?!" The poor boy scrambled backward, his back colliding with the coffee table and shaking the teacups on it. To his credit, he didn't accidentally miss a brushstroke on the beautiful canvas. His eyes flickered between happiness, shock, and nervousness as they darted from side to side. "W-what are you doing here? H-how did you...?"

He trailed off, his blush getting the best of him as he made meaningless motions with his hands to emphasize his words. (Y/n) felt a little bad, she had to admit.

"Sorry if I frightened you." She offered him a reassuring smile. "I saw the door and got curious. Hope I didn't make you mess up your work."

"O-oh!" He remembered the painting he was working on. "Don't worry about it. Nothing happened!" He fiddled with his hands shyly—at least he wasn't dressed in traditional Japanese clothes—as he glanced up at her through long lashes and immediately looked back down. "T-then, y-you've seen Mirror Lake...?"

"You mean the super big painting that looks like it took you five lifetimes to make?" She angled her head towards the door. She was beginning to develop a new respect for the golden-haired boy. The tabloids and gossip did not do his talent justice. "Darn straight I did. I—I literally have no words. That is beautiful!"

Jaehyun pulled at his sleeves, embarrassed, as he glanced down at his hands, biting his lip. "I-it did take me a long time. I-I guess some people say it would be my m-masterpiece."

"If that's not enough to be your masterpiece then I think I'm going to have to rethink life."

His head snapped up, his eyes widening in anxiety. "H-huh?"

"That was a joke."

"O-oh." He blushed again. He bowed his head, his bangs hanging over his eyes that didn't seem to know where to look. They snagged on his unfinished canvas and that sparked an idea in this head. "(Y/n)?"

"Yeah?"

Nervousness. And he had them in spades. Whatever he was going to say, he was excited about it but also unsure at the same time. "C-can I have your permission to paint you?" He said finally. "I-I'm almost done with this but I don't have any ideas for how to finish it. So...can I?"

A strange way to ask someone to model for them, but the sincerity in his tone made her soften. Besides, the boy was an artist. He was bound to walk into an inspiration block now and then and need something to clear it away. What kind of person would she be if she didn't help?

No, remember, (Y/n)! She did her best to clear away her sympathy. He might have something to do with how Izzy, Carrie, and Kels died. And he also brought you here without your permission!

Then again her stay had been rather pleasant, putting all the manhandling and harassment from Kieran aside. She glanced back down at the blond, debating her answer.

That was a mistake. The hopeful eagerness in his eyes and the way he fidgeted in anticipation gave him the air of a cute puppy. Like how Tristan 2.0 would be if she wasn't so skittish all the time. And those puppy dog eyes—Not the puppy dog eyes!

She had no choice but to give in. "Okay," she sighed. "I just have to sit still for a while, right? Please don't make me stand."

His relief and mirth were so blatantly obvious on his face she had to look away. "Really?" He exclaimed, rising to his feet. "I-I mean, thank you!" The light cast a halo around him, a fitting look for his angelic appearance. But how long that angelic aura would last, she wasn't quite ready to find out.

"Sit here," he instructed her as he led her to a wooden chair next to the wall. "I'll be quick, I promise!"

"I'll hold you to that."

She busied herself with studying the wall behind him and sneaking peeks at the boy as he painted. Where normally he was too shy to meet her gaze, artist Jaehyun seemed to have been pulled into his own world where nothing else mattered but the paint, the brush, and the easel. His eyes held hers, steady like calm waters and beautiful like the rippling surface of a moonlit lake. A lake of blood, that is.

His eyes swept over the planes of her features before switching back to the canvas he had propped on an easel. His wrist flicked with a surgeon's precision as something came to life underneath his fingertips. (Y/n) fought back the urge to shudder with each penetrating glance he gave her.

All of the P4's eyes were different from the ones she was used to seeing—she's already established that point before. And Jaehyun's were no different. Though even as his weren't as closed away and unreadable as Kieran's was—in fact, they were like an opened book—it didn't make it any less striking. It was like he could see into her soul. Into all her has-beens and once-was. Into her yesterdays and tomorrows.

That wasn't good. Where some people might be clinging to their pasts, to their happy childhoods and days of sunshine while living in a gray and dreary present, she was running from it. She didn't need the past. She had a family now. She had a life. Had she clung onto it, she highly doubted her foster parents would've adopted her out of the other, better kids.

In the past, she walked a thorny path with a gate in front of every step she took. In the past, she was fettered and constricted, her every tomorrow madness. In the past, words lunge mockingly at her on red threads and she let them wound around her, choke her, binding her.

But in the present, she is soaring, falling, breaking, and lost.

Time she didn't realize had passed flew by and soon enough, Jaehyun was pretty much done with his latest work. It still needed a few touching up on but he'd gotten everything he envisioned in the painting down. His eyes roamed over the canvas, scrutinizing it with narrowed eyes and pinched lips.

Then he brightened. "I'm done! Thanks for posing for me, (Y/n). You want to see it?"

She snapped out of her daze at the sound of his cheerful voice. "Huh? Oh, sure." She got off the stool—her bottom was beginning to go numb—and waddled over to the blond's side. He watched her approach with glee evident on his face.

To call the finished piece amazing was an understatement. It was nowhere near the grandeur of Mirror Lake but it had its charm. An outstanding charm. Where Mirror Lake carried a mystical and illusionary air, this one was calming and serene. As if Jaehyun had cut out a piece of his dreams and pasted it on the blank canvas.

She was rendered completely and utterly speechless. Even his image of her was on point. (H/c) hair that looked like it would be a bird's nest the next day, (e/c) eyes filled with fatigue and determination, and a snide lift to her lips that betrayed nothing.

"Amazing..." (Y/n) faintly heard herself breathe softly. If she hadn't seen him paint this, she wouldn't have believed he single-handedly made all those sculptures and artworks in a matter of a few years.

As she was marveling in the painting, Jaehyun was watching her. Calculating her reaction, observing her actions. He'd received a fair share of praise over the years because of his work. At first, he was genuinely happy for them. The praises warmed his heart, especially when it was because of his talent and not his family name.

And then the compliments began to fall short. All the remarks on his talent—he's already seen it all. All the families turned from "this child is a prodigy!" to "being talented in the arts is useful, but medicine is where the money's at."

He hated that. Who were they to tell him what to do?

The frustration slipped out of him like a sigh as he watched the way she sucked in a sharp breath and her trembling eyes took in the finished product, like her eyes weren't large enough to take it all in. It stirred up the butterflies in his stomach again and made his heart squeeze almost painfully. He never felt this way with his first friend. Not that he minded; (Y/n) was much more.

Love was like finishing a painting and deciding, ah, it's perfect. It was soul-stopping, heart-wrenching, and painstaking. But it was all worth it. It was worth the pain and envy he felt as he watched her associate with others instead of him. Look at others instead of him. It wasn't fair. But life was never fair. Which is why he had to pull the rug out from other people to get what he wanted.

Like that girl—Nova, was it? He hid a small smirk. Too bad no one knew he was the one who painted her so beautifully in shades of red. They all thought it was Howards, that bastard.

Maybe he was drowning now, drowning in his feelings. Whatever it was, it shoved aside all that nervousness that sparked in his belly whenever he was alone with her. And then he said it, the words the rest of the P4 had been walking on eggshells around to deny and he couldn't feel any more relieved.

Like the words sealed the deal. Sealed the future. Made what he thought was an impossibility a possibility.

"Stay here...forever. With me," he blurted out. "I'd treat you better than anyone else."

"Because I love you, (Y/n). My (Y/n)."