━━━━༻ ♦ ༺━━━━ restart 01100101 ━━━━༻ ♦ ༺━━━━

tracer404: You got the key?

me: yeah but now im stuck in my room

me: ill have to find an opportunity to go to the basement when one of them comes back

tracer404: If you don't have enough time, maybe if you just slip him the key it would be enough.

me: but it locks from the outside?

tracer404: The second door is the only tricky part. The first one is wood, right? It can be kicked down.

tracer404: Tell me whenever you'd ready. There's an alarm equipped to the passcode lock so as soon as I open it, they will be notified. So you'll have to be ready to run.

me: not now, that's for sure...

~ ❀ ~

(Y/n) shut the laptop and sank into the cushiony pillows on her bed. She had woken up a few hours after she fell asleep. Although it was technically morning and she was sure Tristan was probably awake right now, it was way too early for her.

The clock ticked six in the morning. Yep, definitely too early. She rolled over and flopped her face into the pillows. She closed her eyes and lied motionless for a few minutes while counting goats in her head. Nothing worked. She wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep anytime soon, that's for sure.

She gave up and threw her legs over the edge. (Y/n) tried the door handle again for good measure, but Leon had locked it securely. The window could be opened to air out the room, but there were wrought iron bars going down it to prevent her from escaping through them again.

These are times when I wish I was a rat. She eyed the drain in her shower. I look like one anyway.

(Y/n) rolled around on the fluffy carpet, bored. She couldn't go out but didn't want to watch Kieran's possibly questionable choice of films or display more of her crappy art skills on Jaehyun's easel, only for it to be sneered at. I know I'm bad at art. No need to rub it in my face, grr.

Then she had a brilliant idea. Tristan had installed a buzzer that looked like a phone on the nightstand. One press of a button would summon him to fulfill any needs she had while stuck in this room. And...it was a very tempting item to take advantage of, if you know where this is going.

(Y/n) immediately pressed the little red button and waited. Seconds later she heard the click of the lock being undone and the door opened. Tristan came inside in all his cleanly dressed glory. He did not look like someone who was awake at six in the morning.

He scanned the room before his attention went back to her. "You're up early," he observed with surprise. "What's the matter?"

She gave him her best million-dollar smile. "Oops. My elbow knocked into it. My bad."

Confusion drew his brows together but he didn't seem to think much of it. "Alright...I'll be going now if you don't need anything."

She listened as he closed the door and secured the lock. After waiting a while to make sure he was gone and back in his room did she press the button again with an evil smirk Kieran would be proud of.

Tristan returned, a little disgruntled now. "Again? What is it, (Y/n)?"

"He did it, not me." She pointed at the little wooden owl figurine and batted her lashes at him innocently.

"So there's nothing," he stated flatly.

"Nope!"

And when he left, she repeated the process again. (Y/n) hoped it made a loud sound on his end instead of a notification on his phone or something because she started spamming the button. The door opened again, revealing a very irritable Tristan who looked like he was in the middle of making his morning coffee but was interrupted.

"If you have nothing you need," he said through gritted teeth. "Please don't call me. It's not pleasant having the buzzer constantly blaring in your ear."

"I don't know what you mean." At this point, (Y/n) had grouped all of the wooden animal carvings around the buzzer. They had mysteriously appeared when she woke up the other day, and she was sure Jaehyun had brought them. "I told them to stop but they really wanted to see your awe-inspiring face, sir. Are you really that heartless to deny them that?"

Between (Y/n)'s puppy dog eyes and the wooden statues' blank stares, Tristan couldn't exactly just walk out. He raked a hand through his hair and let out a long exhale. He was no stranger to her antics by now. "I had to pause my morning workout because of you." He closed the door and sat down next to her. "And my coffee's probably cold by now. How are you going to make it up to me?"

"Dunno. Blame them, not me. I'm innocent."

Tristan reached out and placed a finger on a wooden fox's vermillion head. He knocked it over onto the curled snake. "I doubt they could make the lost time up to me. You'll have to do instead. Or are you heartless enough to shirk a repayment?"

(Y/n) gave him a stink-eye. "I refuse to participate in anything that requires me to use energy."

"That's...basically every activity in the world?"

"And your point is?"

"Then I take it as that you don't want breakfast today?" Unfazed, the blue-haired male crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in the chair. He absentmindedly fiddled with the little carvings. "I suppose we'll have to enjoy breakfast without you...imagine all those steaming hot plates of (f/b) going to waste. And remember maritozzi? They're baking in the oven right now so they'll be fresh when served. Too bad you'll miss out on all that...there'll be none left when Fujikawa and Matthews get to them."

(A/N: (f/b) favorite breakfast)

He gave her an innocent smile. The bastard clearly knew what he was doing. "Too bad, right? But don't worry, I won't let you starve. I'll make sure to bring you a bowl of unsweetened Cheerios, but we'd probably run out of milk after breakfast. That should be fine with you, right? It's such a waste of energy anyway—"

"Oh, shut up!" (Y/n) threw a pillow at him. When he was still grinning, she pulled another from behind her and smacked him with it. "You know what I meant!"

"Did I?" He let her hit him with a laugh. "You said anything that involves the consumption of energy. Which includes sleep. Shall I train you to stay awake for long periods of time?"

"No thanks!" Her arms tired and he didn't look affected at all by her efforts. (Y/n) gave up and threw the last pillow at him with a scowl. "You're annoying. I hope you run out of butter and maple syrup."

"That was an oddly specific insult, but still weak."

"Why, are you disappointed?" She watched him spin the wooden owl between his fingers. "If that breaks, I'm not explaining what happened to Jay."

"I didn't expect you to." He set it down firmly back onto the nightstand. "And it won't. And before I forget, I'm almost done making your...computer."

Holy macaroni, actually? "Did you pull an all-nighter or something?"

The embarrassed look on his face was answer enough. "You boomer," she belly laughed. "I'm surprised you own a smartphone instead of a flip phone."

"I'm not that bad with technology," he muttered, embarrassment staining his cheeks pink.

"You couldn't even fix a robot cleaner. That's simple stuff, man. I could do it in my sleep."

He opened and closed his mouth, fishing for a retort before he gave up entirely. "A-anyway," he coughed into a fist to regain his composure. "I have a quick question."

"Shoot."

"Am I supposed to put the box thing in the monitor or the computer?"

This guy is hopeless. (Y/n) didn't bother to hold back her facepalm. "That 'box thing' is the processor. The CPU. You know what? You figure it out. You have like a million books in your library for a reason. There should be a book called 'Computer Building for Dummies.'"

"...Did you just indirectly insult me?"

"I dunno. That's for me to know and you to find out. Anywho," (Y/n) slid under her covers and pulled them up, stopping just before they went over her head. "It's too early. I don't want to be awake. See you."

"One of these days you're going to look back at the younger you and wonder why you never kept good sleeping habits." He lifted an eyebrow when she only audibly scoffed at his words and bundled the comforter tighter around her. "Sleeping and waking early is good for your health, my dear. And is it not warm? You're going to suffocate."

"That's the plan," came her muffled voice. "Then no one can make me, ew, exercise."

Tristan shook his head and began pulling on the comforter. "Your laziness astounds me. It's almost comparable to Fujikawa's ego. Either way, you're awake now so you should make the best of this fine morning. Don't pretend you didn't hear me, (Y/n)." He yanked the comforter harder. "You're not really asleep. Mornings are the perfect time to spend studying or working out, don't you agree?"

"No, I do not," (Y/n) growled, trying to roll as far away from him as she could. "Unhand me, you barbarian!"

"One, I am not touching you. I am trying to get you to get up. Two, the only one here who acts like an uncivilized monkey is you."

"Wha—" She aimed a blind kick at him and hoped it landed. "I thought you were supposed to be nice to me!"

"Oh? I am being nice. Normally to wake Fujikawa up for an important student council meeting I'd get Gerald to burn his collection of books." A sinister smile stretched across his lips. "It always does the trick."

(Y/n) knew Kieran valued his books to some extent. She poked her head out from under the blanket to give him an incredulous look. "You're evil. And who's Gerald?"

"Thank you. I do my best." He managed to tug most of the comforter away from her vise-like grip. "Gerald's my head butler. You've met him, have you not? Although the circumstances did not permit a proper introduction...Nevermind that, your methods of stalling won't distract me anymore. Get up now, (Y/n)."

"No, I refuse!" (Y/n) reached over to pick a pillow off the floor and smacked him with it. "This is my room! You're trespassing! Begone, human!"

He caught the pillow and pulled it from her grip. "I wasn't aware that you paid the rent," he said with mock surprise. "Then I must thank you for doing so. Can I trust that you'd have a hundred grand ready for the next payment?"

"A...h-hundred g-grand?" Even saying the words made her want to puke out her organs, blood and everything. "I don't think I have enough kidneys to sell for that," she wheezed, clutching her stomach. "Do you think they'd accept payment in the form of my soul?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that," he chuckled. "I'm not sure if they'd accept anything below a Mother Theresa quality soul."

"Uh, I'm like 2% Mother Theresa. I donated my pennies to my local deli last month. Does that count?"

"Maybe that figure might increase if you use your time for something more worthwhile. Like"—he ripped her covers off her and she fell backward with a shriek—"Getting up bright and early in the morning. Let's work on your basketball skills, shall we?"

(Y/n) pressed the heel of her hands into her eyes and groaned loudly. "Why you gotta do me like that? The betrayal...my eyes are burning! Ahhhh!"

"Don't be dramatic." Tristan folded the comforter neatly and placed it at the foot of the bed. "Will you get ready or do I have to drag you to the gym in your pajamas?"

She stopped rolling around and glared at him through her fingers. "You spartan. You're a dictator. This is a democracy, not an autocracy! I have the right to rebel against an oppressive government!"

"I take that you rather play ball in your pajamas?" He made a threatening step towards her, making her squeak and roll off the bed.

"N-no, sir! I'll change, I'll change!"

A few minutes later (Y/n) came out of the bedroom dressed like a hobo. Actually she didn't even look that bad; they were just comfy and baggy oversized clothes but next to Tristan's crisp, wrinkle-free shirt and slacks, she looked like muppet gone wrong.

"Are the others awake?" She asked him as they took the elevator downstairs. She was in a way better mood after she had managed to get the key off him and hide it inside one of her many pillows. Yes, with the feathers and everything. They weren't going to be finding it anytime soon but at the same time, if she accidentally chose the wrong pillow to use for the night, she was going to have a really unpleasant sleep.

"Matthews should be," he informed her. "No doubt on his morning run through the woods if you need to find me. Kim is definitely asleep—he doesn't wake up until nine."

"And Kieran?"

A look of distaste crossed his face. "How would I know? It's already strange for him to be sleeping here in the dormitory."

That was true. Before the Game started and everything, (Y/n) sometimes found Kieran on the same bus as her. It was weird because very little students lived at home instead of the dorms and she was sure Kieran wasn't one of them. It made sense now.

The kitchen was empty when they entered. "Sit," Tristan instructed her, going towards the oven. "I'll get the food."

"I've been meaning to ask, but who does the cooking?" She looked around but didn't see anyone else. Speaking of which, she hasn't seen his ninja butlers around in a while. "And the cleaning? I doubt Kieran would actually clean this whole place by himself."

"The cleaner comes in twice a week to clean all the rooms." Tristan placed a plate full of (f/b) in front of her and another for himself. He pulled back the chair opposite to her and slid into it. "The workers are all instructed to do their work quietly without being seen. We like our privacy."

"I see..." She thanked him when he passed her a glass of (f/d) and a fork. She stabbed it into her food and took a huge bite. Damn, do I miss this. A pleased sigh escaped her lips. It's almost like the way dad makes it, minus the burnt part.

Her serving compared to his was like comparing a watermelon to a single grape. He had a few pieces of what looked like fried bread with powdered sugar on them that he bit into once in a while, as he flipped through a book he had procured out of nowhere. He noticed her staring and offered a piece. "Would you like to try one?"

"What is it?" She allowed him to transfer a piece onto her plate. "Is it like the mary-something we have last time?"

"I lied about having that today," he winced. "But I promise this is good too. It's grenki. Think of it as Russian French toast."

"How many versions of French toast does there need to be?" She took a generous bite and did not regret it one bit. It didn't need syrup—the sugar gave it the right amount of sweetness that was complemented by a rich brown crunchy crust. The bread gave away under her teeth and melted on her tongue. The outside was hard and crunchy but the inside was anything but.

He watched her savor the food with a soft smile on his lips. He leaned his face into his hand. "There's also Hong Kong French toast," he offered. "Have you had it before?"

She swallowed her food before speaking. Something about Tristan's demeanor made her want to pay attention to her table manners a little more. "No. What's it like?"

"They take two pieces of bread without the crust, smack them together with butter and cheese in between, coat it with egg mixture, and then fry it in a bunch of oil."

"Sounds terrible for my heart but amazing for my stomach." (Y/n) swallowed her drool at the mental image of a plate of golden-brown fried toast swathed in syrup and butter...must...resist... "Nah, the heartburn is totally worth it."

"Would you like to try it someday?" Tristan watched her from over the rim of his mug. "It's not too difficult to make."

In her hunger, she failed to catch the deeper meaning in his words. "Sounds like a plan." She threw the last bit into the air and caught it in her mouth. All without choking.

"Is that food I smell?"

Kieran waltzed into the room and threw himself into an empty chair beside her. He leaned forward and ate the bite of food off her fork before she could do so herself. "Mhm, that's good."

The one thing (Y/n) hated the most was when people woke her up unnecessarily. She had no qualms with ending them and shipping them in a crate to the Arctic. The second thing would be people who stole her food. There was a special place in Hell for them, along with the people who gave you raisin cookies instead of chocolate chip cookies.

"STEAL MY FOOD AND I'LL END YOU, YOU GIT!" She pushed him over in a flurry of shouts, the chair toppling down with him. "MY FOOD! THE ONE THING I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS MORNING!"

"Hey! It was just a bite—" He raised his hands to stop her attack but it was meaningless. An angry (Y/n) was a force to be reckoned with. And an angry and hungry (Y/n) was the goddamned Terminator.

"A BITE OF MY ONLY HAPPINESS! HOW COULD YOU?!"

Tristan watched with a hand over his face as the kitchen once again descended into chaos. (Y/n) was no Leon but a little motivation went a long way. She somehow found the silverware drawer and began launching the projectiles at the white-haired male who dodged them with a yelp. When that ran out she began throwing the remaining pieces of (f/b), not without shoving a slice of grenki into her mouth as she did so.

"Tell me you're going to clean it up later." Tristan was exhausted from having to deal with Leon and Kieran's fights all the time. He really didn't want another mess to deal with.

(Y/n) shook an accusatory finger at the smirking male. "He stole my food!"

Kieran shrugged and caught a spoon before it could hit his head. "And she's attacking me."

"That's because you stole my food! No one steals my food unless they have a death wish!"

"Sharing is caring, love~ Our relationship can't progress if you don't open up to me—OW, OW, OW! DON'T THROW THAT!" Kieran shrieked as a paper plate flew his way, barely missing his eye. Paper cuts were a b*tch. They didn't hurt him—nothing did—but the weird sensation of his skin parting and the blood that flowed at the worst moments was quite annoying.

He stole Tristan's plate before he could protest. "Sorry, Trish-chan," he winked at him. "Help a guy out? Yeah? Thanks." He lobbed a piece of grenki at the (h/c)-haired girl before Tristan could answer. "Your sacrifice will be remembered, Trish-chan!"

The blue-haired male closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. Don't get mad, he instructed himself as he forced his breathing to remain steady. They're basically children. You can't reason with them anyway—

"STOP THROWING SALT IN MY HAIR, YOU STUPID YETI FACE!"

"You're salty enough, love~ What's a pinch more going to do?"

"I'll put salt in your conditioner. How about that?"

Tristan slammed his hands down at the table, making the two freeze. He glared at them menacingly. "If you dare throw that," he growled, referring to the plate of grenki in Kieran's hand. "I will give your number to that stalker of yours and you'll have to deal with her spam again. Would you like that to happen?"

Kieran looked at the plate and then at Tristan, obviously debating his answer. "Urgh...that girl doesn't know what 'one-night stand' means...but pissing you off would be hilarious..."

"And you." Tristan turned to the (h/c)-haired girl who straightened under his icy look. His glare softened as he reached out and flicked her forehead. "You're wasting too much food. Use a gun next time."

"Wha—TRISH-CHAN!"

"I'll keep that in mind," (Y/n) smirked.

"(Y/n)-chan! I thought we had something going on but then you had to break my heart like that?"

"I'll tear up your collection of unholy books."

Tristan placed Kieran on clean up duty, much to the white-haired male's dismay and (Y/n)'s glee. As he promised, he took her to his gymnasium even though she really didn't want to be there. Exercise? What's that? If I can't eat it, then I don't want it.

Even if she had been joking around with them, it was really just a plot to cover up her tension. Sometimes (Y/n) felt like she no longer knew them as much as she thought she did. Sometimes she didn't know how to act around them. She couldn't be completely honest, that's for sure, but she couldn't lie either. Tristan and Leon in particular picked up quickly on lies.

She hadn't taken the key with her. (Y/n) decided it was best to go along with Tristan. Staying locked up in the room wouldn't do her any good anyway. And this was an opportunity she didn't want to pass up on; she'd slowly get him to lower his guard and when he was least expecting it, she'd have the key on her and sneak down to the basement. It was as simple as that.

And on top of it all, everything seemed to be going well. Too well, actually. Tristan was completely different than the first time she met him; he was a cynical thing who didn't bother to hide how much he looked down on her. He did everything flawlessly—except for all things technology-related—and didn't seem to care about other people. Only results. He was the kind of person you'd associate to the phrase "the ends justify the means."

Now he was smiling. Laughing, even as she threw the basketball towards the hoop, expecting it to at least come close. But instead, it seemed to disappear and as she looked around for it, the ball came down onto her head.

Her brain cells were holding a tiny funeral. There weren't enough brain cells left to attend it anyway.

"It's not just about your arms," he chuckled, coming closer to her. "You have to use your legs too. Jump up when you shoot it; it'll be easier."

She did as she was told but almost tripped over her feet.

He gave her a pitying look. "You're hopeless."

"Gee, thanks for your support," she scowled, shaking the loose strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail away from her face. "I feel sooo much more confident now."

"You should," he asserted, completely missing out on her sarcasm. "Criticism paves the way for improvement. There's always a next time."

Is there? (Y/n) reluctantly accepted the ball he handed to her. "If I don't make this you owe me a cake."

"Shouldn't it be if you make it?"

"Who says?" (Y/n) threw the ball on the floor. "There. Now you owe me a cake."

He shook his head and retrieved the basketball from where it had rolled towards his feet. "What am I going to do with you? No wonder Mrs. Richards signed you up for tutoring with me. You have zero motivation."

"You just realized? Took you long enough. You still owe me that cake though. No backing out."

"I didn't even agree to it...but alright." He casually lobbed the ball with a single hand towards the basket. It sank cleanly in through the hoop.

She scoffed and shot him a stink-eye. "Show off."

"Does that mean I impressed you?" Tristan pulled another ball out of the cart and jogged backward until he was standing at the other end of the court. "How about we make a bet? If I make this shot, you'll have to bake me a cake."

She stared at him incredulously. "Who told you I could bake?"

"Of course, I don't expect a professional job. Unless...you're not confident you'd be able to pull off a simple cake? Well, in that case..." He held the ball in place between his side and arm. "It's alright. I understand if you're too afraid to take up the challenge—"

"I'll do it, you ding dong."

The reply burst out of her before she could register it, much less take it back. His brows lifted in surprise. "Are you sure?" Tristan said. "You're not allowed to get help."

"It's mixing a bunch of sugar, eggs, and milk, right?" She waved a dismissive hand. "No biggie."

"You forgot about the flour."

"...Uh, I knew that."

He had a knowing look on his face, the same one that never failed to get a rise out of her. "If you say so..." He turned to face the hoop. "Should I use a handicap too just in case?"

"Argh, just throw it already!"

And he made it. Of course, he did. She wasn't even surprised anymore at this point.

Tristan returned to his initial position and balanced a basketball on her head. "So, about the cake. I prefer green tea or matcha, not too sweet. And without too much cream. I expect it to at least look like a cake. Got it, my dear?"

She really hated how he kept turning the tables on her.

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A/N: More fan art, hoomans! This is from Insanitxy! They're totally in character xD Except let's be honest, Tristan wouldn't stoop so low as to use a commoner's umbrella. He'd be riding home in his private jet :>















And another from zzCistheNamezz!



Holy shiitake mushrooms 😂

Also if any of you use Webnovel, parts of this story are there too now under the same username so y'all should check it out and show it some support ;D Things happened and I think I might start using it. Still considering. The formatting got trashed over there so you Wattpadians get the best experience ofc ;))