Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The first morning doesn’t feel real.

You wake to the low hum of the vents, the faint mechanical buzz mixing with the thin streaks of sunlight coming in through the narrow dorm window. The pale yellow rays cut across your navy comforter, striping the blank walls and desk. For a second, your brain forgets.

And then it sinks back in.

Veritas University.

You lie there for a moment longer, staring up at the white ceiling. The quiet hum of the room fills the space where your thoughts should be.

Yesterday, you were still home.
Yesterday, this was some distant, impossible future you couldn’t even really imagine.
Yesterday, your mom had cried over a burned batch of muffins. Your dad thought he was sneaking when slipping money into your pencil case, you’d sat on your porch under those cheap string lights and tried to memorize just everything you were feeling .

And now… this.

You sit up slowly, that now familiar twist pulling at your stomach, not quite fear, not quite excitement. Just the feeling of how much has changed in so little time.

You’re actually here.

In a world you’d only heard stories about. 

Drawing in a steady breath, you finally pull yourself up and move over to the closet. The limited amount of clothes looks even more sparse in the daylight, mostly plain clothes now that you really look at it.

And then, hanging neatly at the front, the two most expensive pieces of clothing you own, technically you didn’t even buy them.

The Veritas University jacket and hoodie.

Both had arrived carefully packaged in a welcome parcel, folded in crisp tissue paper that looked incredibly expensive for thin paper. Deep maroon with the Veritas crest embroidered in perfect gold thread across the chest. Soft, but heavy fabric. The jacket, especially, was clearly tailored to the standards of the university's image, sleek enough not to look out of place next to the students who arrived wearing labels you couldn’t afford to pronounce.

You’re not naive. You know exactly why they gifted them to you. You could’ve technically afforded to order them yourself if you saved carefully, but for two items of clothing, it would’ve been an obscene amount. The kind of purchase that would have sat like a pit in your stomach afterward.

This way, it was handled for you. A small push to help you blend in. Just enough polish to avoid questions at the beginning.

You run your fingers over the embroidered crest for a moment, then pull the hoodie on. The fabric is plush against your skin, far softer than anything you would normally allow yourself to buy. It feels like a strange kind of armor. Not to stand out. Not to impress. Just to survive the first glance from others.

You catch your reflection briefly in the mirror. You look… fine. Presentable. Hopefully invisible, if you play it right.

After double-checking your bag and schedule, you pull up the campus map on your phone one more time, even though you’ve stared at it enough where you should have memorized most of the routes by now. The campus is so vast and complicated that you still feel like you need it as an anchor.

You hesitate for a second longer before finally stepping toward the door.

Then you exhale.

First day. First class. First step.

You step outside into the morning air.

The campus looks like something pulled straight from a curated photo spread.

Every hedge trimmed into flawless precision, some even into fancy shapes. Stone walkways polished clean like no one has ever dared to scuff them. Towering buildings rise like gleaming monuments, reflecting the cloudless sky.

Sleek black cars idle along the smooth curb lanes, their engines humming softly while uniformed drivers open doors with practiced ease. Students walking around dressed in specifically curated outfits that could easily pay off an entire year’s worth of tuition for a normal student. Handbags you’ve only seen in glossy magazine pages, sunglasses with brands you recognize more from runways than actual stores.

You pass one girl gracefully gliding down the steps in heels that would give you a brain aneurysm if you saw the receipt.

But here and there, scattered you catch others wearing the same maroon Veritas hoodie you pulled on this morning. 

Some wear it out of caution, first-years like you, unsure of the unofficial dress codes and general unwritten rules. For others, it's worn with some kind of wide-eyed excitement, the kind that only really exists in the first few weeks of being here, before reality sets in. Like an unspoken badge of I really made it.

That enthusiasm tends to fade once everyone settles into the rhythm of who belongs where. But right now? The sea of maroon still dots the crowds.

You adjust your bag and keep walking, following the path displayed on your phone screen.

As you move through campus, glimpses of the dorms catch your eye, some grand and sprawling, others a bit older, ivy-draped or angularly modern. Even without knowing exactly which one is which you could already make it out just based on the looks themselves.

Some of them just oozed with old money and prestige. Others feel quietly ambitious. And then, further out, there’s your own dorm. Novus.

Still Veritas, but not the part anyone tours first at least if they have the choice.

You draw in a slow breath, pulling yourself back to focus.

The lecture hall comes into view ahead, an imposing mix of smooth stone and glass. Sleek without trying too hard, just enough to show how much money Veritas has.

Students file inside almost like choreographed, sliding into place like they've been rehearsing for this moment their whole lives.

Inside, the auditorium rises in clean, perfect tiers.

You pause just inside the door, taking in the room quickly. You made sure to arrive early enough not to be rushing in at the last second, but not so early that you’d end up sitting alone in an empty hall, painfully exposed while everyone trickled in around you.

Safe timing.

The space is already filling in, not packed yet, but enough that certain areas feel claimed. Small clusters of students have already settled in, chatting quietly or scrolling on their phones.

You don’t know the rules yet. Not really. But you can almost feel them hovering in the air.

Certain seats just feel occupied, not physically, but by unspoken claim. The closer rows seem full of perfect confident postures and designer outfits, but you don’t dwell on it. Not now. Your priority is simple: find a seat that doesn’t feel dangerous or draws attention.

Your eyes scan the rows, not too close to the front, not so far back that you’ll stick out as avoiding everyone.

Then you spot him.

Mid-level, somewhere right in the middle. Hoodie like yours. Orange hair that kinda stands out. He’s sitting alone, casually scrolling through his phone like none of this fazes him.

Something about him just feels... safe.

Neutral. Approachable. Like someone else who might still be figuring things out, at least that is what you hope.

The middle feels right. Not too bold. Not too invisible. Exactly the kind of balance you’ve been aiming for since you arrived.

You make the decision before you can overthink it.

“Is this seat taken?” you ask quietly.

He looks up, blinking, then smiles like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Nope. All yours.”

Relief washes over you as you slide into the seat.

“First day?” he asks as you settle your bag.

You nod, offering a small smile. “Yeah. Transfer student.”

Hinata tilts his head slightly. “Already? It’s still pretty early in the year for a transfer.”

You give a small, half-laugh. “Yeah. Guess I figured I’d make things extra difficult for myself .”

He holds out a hand, grin still bright. “Shōyō Hinata. Novus, first year.” He says it casually, like it means nothing at all, just a fact, not something to be embarrassed about.

You shake his hand, offering your name in return, your voice still a little soft.

Hinata glances at you with curious warmth. “Are you Novus too? Or one of the others?”

You hesitate for half a second, still adjusting to how easily he asks but you nod. “Yeah. Novus.”

His grin widens like that somehow confirms something good. “Nice! Honestly, it’s not so bad. Everyone kind of sticks to their dorm group at first anyway, but Novus people are usually pretty cool. Something like survival bonding, I guess.”

You can’t help but let out a faint laugh, the tightness in your chest easing just a tiny bit.

“I... kind of almost started overthinking where to sit.” you admit. “I figured this spot seemed safe enough.”

Hinata chuckles, leaning in slightly like he’s about to share state secrets. “Good instinct. This is one of the usually safe zones.”

You raise a brow. “Is it really that complicated?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says, grinning like it’s some ridiculous joke only people here get. “Unofficial seating chart. Not actually written down anywhere, but trust me, you figure it out pretty fast or somebody will just tell you about it if you break any of the rules.”

He gestures casually toward the front rows. “Primus always takes the front-center. That’s basically their personal stage. Magnus usually claims the seats behind them. Vespers kind of sit more to the sides closer to the windows.”

You follow his gesture briefly, but mostly you’re just absorbing how casually he is about  navigating this invisible system.

“And Novus?” you ask.

Hinata shrugs lightly, still smiling.
“Technically? We just take whatever’s left. It’s kind of like... everyone else picks first, and then we fill in the gaps.”

He leans in slightly, voice still easy.
“Honestly, though, anyone can sit wherever they want if they really feel like it. If someone from Primus wants a seat further back, they’ll take it, and nobody’s gonna argue. Same with Magnus or Vesper sometimes shifting around.”

He pauses for half a second, adding casually,
“Sometimes people invite others to sit in their zone too, but that’s usually just close friends. You’ll mostly see the same people sitting together every time.”

He grins. “Makes it easier for everyone to know where not to sit.”

You exhale softly. “Good to know.”

He flashes you a reassuring smile. “Honestly? You picked a pretty good first seat. Especially because you are sitting next to me.”

Before you can say anything else, the doors click shut and the professor enters.

An older man steps to the podium with the kind of quiet authority that makes you sit up a little straighter without even realizing. His silver hair is short, slightly tousled but neat, and his glasses rest low on his nose as he surveys the lecture hall with sharp, observant eyes.

"Good morning," he says, voice calm but clear. "I am Professor Yasufumi Nekomata. This course is Global Financial Power Structures and Societal Influence."

His gaze sweeps across the room. “For some of you, this will be familiar material. For others… this may be your first time seeing how these systems truly operate.”

The words aren’t meant as a threat, but you feel the weight of them settle in your stomach like a heavy stone.

“We will be examining international holdings, generational wealth structures, and the global influence of consolidated power across industries.”

He pauses, his eyes lingering briefly toward the front rows where the perfectly polished students sit almost like this class was designed specifically for them.

Then his tone softens slightly. “For those who feel overwhelmed: take notes. Ask questions. Fall behind here, and you will struggle to catch up. But if you keep up, you may leave this class seeing the world quite differently.”

Your stomach tightens.

How the world truly operates.

It’s a different kind of class than anything you’ve taken before. Back home, even your most advanced courses talked about economics in clean, theoretical terms, supply and demand, market patterns, statistics in textbooks.

But here, this is about people who run everything, for people who are part of the families running everything. About systems you’ve only ever glimpsed at in headlines. You’re not only learning how markets work. You’re learning who controls them.

The first slide appears, projected onto the massive screen at the front of the hall.

Webs of companies and family empires fill the screen, hidden investments, layered businesses, and connections that stretch across borders like spider silk.The terms start coming fast, wealth consolidation, offshore structuring, multigenerational asset protection.

You scramble to keep up, your pen flying across the page. Your notes are already a mess of arrows, underlines, and desperate scribbles. Some students type with practiced ease on sleek tablets or laptops, scrolling back and forth between digital charts and pre-prepared notes like this is all familiar ground.

For you, there’s no buffer. No shortcut. No one that you can easily ask later to explain anything to you. You can’t afford to fall behind.

The questions start not long after.

"Mr. Kinoshita" Professor Nekomata calls, turning to one of the students seated confidently near the front, "please define third-tier diversification."

The boy barely needs to think. His answer comes out polished, rehearsed, like someone reciting a family rulebook they've grown up studying.

"Third-tier diversification refers to a diversification strategy where a company expands into unrelated businesses or industries, typically with limited or no synergy with its existing operations. This often involves entering markets with little to no connection to the company's core competencies or supply chain."

The words roll off his tongue like they belong to him. Like they’ve always belonged to him.

The professor nods with mild approval, moving on to the next student.

And slowly, the pattern reveals itself:

Primus first.
Magnus next.
  Occasionally Vesper.
Never Novus.

You focus hard, forcing yourself not to glance around, not to let the silence around your section get to you. Instead, you just write, filling line after line with notes you’re not even sure you fully understand yet.

But you’ll figure it out.

You have to.

Hinata leans in slightly between slides, voice dropped to a whisper.
"Still breathing?"

You manage a thin, quick smile. "Define breathing."

He grins and flashes you a small thumbs-up, though you can tell he’s just barely keeping up too. His notes are filling quickly.

Professor Nekomata clicks to the final slide.

The diagram that appears nearly makes you stop writing altogether.

An intricate web of companies, trusts, and financial structures fills the screen, lines crisscrossing between industries, continents, and offshore holdings like a spiderweb across the globe.

And there, positioned near the center:

USHIJIMA HOLDINGS GROUP.

Your stomach tightens.

You knew the name. Of course you did. Everyone heard it, even if just in passing conversations, or in your case from Mira’s stories about powerful families. You knew they were rich. You knew they were important.

But seeing it laid out like this seeing how many layers and threads that name controlled was something else entirely.

This wasn’t just wealth. This was reach.

Sectors you never even thought about, agriculture, energy, media holdings, healthcare subsidiaries quietly tucked beneath larger shells.

You’d never really paid attention to global finance before. It always felt like something far removed from your world, something that didn’t concern people like you. But here, on this screen, you could see exactly how far from small this place really was.

Professor Nekomata’s voice cuts smoothly back in.

"By our next lesson, I expect each of you to submit a preliminary structural analysis of this conglomerate. Include leverage points, at least three vulnerability pathways, and supporting evidence for each."

No one dares complain aloud.

The soft chime signals the end of class. Too soft, given how heavy your brain feels.

Around you, students move quickly, bags zipped, tablets slipped into leather briefcases, discussions reigniting as though they hadn't just dissected the world’s power structures for over an hour.

You sit frozen for a beat longer, catching your breath.

First class down. Thousands more to go.

Finally, you start packing your notes, messy, cramped pages filled with barely legible scribbles you’ll have to decipher later. How fun.

Hinata waits for you at the aisle, still lingering as though to make sure you don’t get left behind in the rush.

“You made it,” he says with a grin, falling into step beside you.

“Barely,” you breathe out.

Hinata chuckles. “Profs here love to start strong. I’m still getting used to it myself, honestly.”

The two of you weave through the marble hallway as voices float past, quiet conversations about vacation homes, private investments, mergers you barely understand.

As you both step into the wider central hall, Hinata glances up, his expression equal parts impressed and a little overwhelmed.

"This place still doesn’t feel real sometimes," he admits, laughing softly. “Like... I know I’m here, but it still feels like someone else’s world half the time.”

You nod, because honestly, you know exactly what he means.

“So... um, do you want to maybe trade numbers?” Hinata asks, tone casual but warm. “In case you need help. Or just, you know, wanna hang out.”

You blink, surprised but relieved. “Yeah. That’d actually be great.”

You hand him your phone, angling it slightly to hide the scratches on the screen. He doesn’t even blink, just inputs his number and hands it back.

“There. Now you officially know someone.”

You let out a small breath. “Thanks.”

The two of you round the corner and then it happens.

The entire air shifts.

You feel it before you see it. The crowd ahead parts with eerie smoothness, like water folding around an invisible force. Conversations drop into hushed whispers, some cutting off entirely. No one stares directly. 

At the center of the ripple walks a group. And leading them—

Him.

Even without any formal introduction, you know exactly who he is.

Wakatoshi Ushijima.

The heir.

The name that had wormed his way back into your mind ever since you arrived here, you were half-convinced you’d never cross paths with someone like him. Even with all the stories Mira told you, the photos she showed you with wide eyes, none of them fully prepared you for the reality.

He walks like gravity itself bends around him. Calm, steady steps. Shoulders squared, back impossibly straight. His jacket fits with absolute precision,  sharp lines, tailored to perfection, the deep black fabric catching the light in a way that makes it look almost heavier, richer than anything else in the hallway. Every inch of him looks curated.
Untouchable.

You almost can't help but hear Mira’s voice in your head: He was in Forbes before he could even drive.

And now here he is. The real deal. Walking a few feet in front of you like he’s stepped straight off one of those glossy business articles she obsessed over.

Around him moves a small orbit of others most equally polished, equally untouchable.

Your eyes catch on one of them as they pass tall, with sharp features and striking red hair that falls just slightly into his eyes. His expression is different from the others: not distant or dismissive, but almost amused. Like he’s watching something only he understands. His lazy grin carries something unsettling beneath the surface.

And then, he glances at you.

Just for a heartbeat, his eyes meet yours. Direct. Sharp.

Your breath catches. You quickly drop your gaze, pulse jumping slightly.

Whoever he is, you get the immediate sense, it’s better not to draw attention here.

The group glides past without a word. Not out of rudeness they just simply don’t need to acknowledge anyone. The world moves around them. Not the other way around.

Only once they’ve disappeared down the hallway do the conversations around you gradually start again, as if someone has lifted the invisible pressure.

“Yeah…” Hinata mutters softly beside you, voice a little quieter now. “You can kinda feel the temperature drop when they walk past.”

You swallow. “Primus.”

He nods. “Exactly.”

The echo of their footsteps still seems to linger behind, like a presence that hasn’t quite faded yet.

And somehow even as you keep walking you know:
This was only the beginning.

Chapter Text

You and Hinata drift away from the main lecture hall, the sound of conversation still lingering in your ears as students pour in around you.

Hinata bumps your shoulder lightly with his own. “You didn’t pass out. That’s already a win.”

You laugh, still gripping your notes too tightly. “Debatable. My brain might be in recovery mode.”

He grins, already steering you in a direction that doesn’t seem entirely random. “Come on. If that was your first class, you deserve a proper tour. And maybe a warning system.”

You blink. “A warning system?”

“Oh, yeah. You need to know where you’re allowed to go. And more importantly, where not to accidentally wander.”

You fall into step beside him, walking through shaded paths and grand halls that shine like they’ve never been touched by rain. Along the way, you pass students lounging under designer sun umbrellas, laughing over espresso cups, or checking their class schedules on tablets that cost probably way too much for something that they're going to replace within a year.

“See those rooftops?” Hinata nods toward a cluster of gold-lined balconies “That’s the Primus spa and pool deck.”

You blink. “They have a spa ?”

“Mm-hmm. Also a sauna, gym, underground garage, concierge service…” He waves a hand vaguely, like he’s used to ignoring the excess. “Anyway, don’t try to get in. They’ve got ID scanners at the entrances, and security gets twitchy if a non-Primus loiters around there too long.”

“So… like, it’s off-limits?”

“Very,” Hinata confirms. “Same goes for Magnus lounges. Even the fancy music rooms. Vesper kids sometimes sneak in and get away with it, but Novus?” He glances at you. “We don’t get those second chances.”

Your mouth twists. “Right. Got it.”

He slows his steps a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “It sucks, honestly. They say this place is about equality like any normal college , but like…” He lets out a small sigh.

You give him a wry look. “So how do they decide who goes where? Like, besides the obvious.”

Hinata whistles lowly. “Yeah, that’s a whole system. I’m surprised you haven’t read about it already.”

You tilt your head,  realizing you never even thought to look it up, it just seemed like something you’d find out by being there, not somewhere publicly online. “Just tell me anyway.”

“Okay, so... dorm placement’s based on a bunch of stuff. Wealth, obviously. But also popularity rankings, like actual internal ones. Academic scores. Influence. Family name. Engagement points from clubs or projects. Basically if you’re rich and famous and smart, boom, Primus.”

“Magnus?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Usually just people who are very rich but have shitty grades or new money people with good grades.You know kinda just one little thing away from ‘greatness’.” 

“And Vesper?”

“Talented. They shine in areas that don’t always fit the usual mold. Artists, coders, socialites without the actual bloodline. Vesper is like… potential, but not like status status.”

And last but not least you thought..

“And Novus?”

Hinata scratches the back of his neck. “Honestly? It’s kind of a mixed bag. Usually, it’s where the new money kids land. People with okay money, but not the legacy names. Sometimes people from families that used to be big deals but aren’t really anymore. Or people who just don’t hit the mark in a lot of the categories.”

Or possibly, a mysterious one-of-a-kind scholarship no one’s supposed to know about. But you swallow that thought down.

Hinata smiles a little. “It doesn’t mean we’re not good enough. Just that we’re not Primus-level flashy. Doesn’t help that a lot of Novus students don’t bother with the extra stuff. Or they’re not invited.”

You nod slowly, taking that in.

“But here’s the thing,” he says, nudging your arm with a grin. “Novus might be the bottom of the ladder, but we’ve got grit. That’s why people notice when we do rise.”

You look at him, a little caught off guard.

You let out a slow breath and relax your shoulders a bit, looking up at the tall buildings around you, the fancy signs, the polished floors, the clear lines between who belongs where.

“So,” you say, trying to lighten the mood. “Are you this inspiring with everyone or is this like a VIP experience?”

Hinata chuckles. “Totally VIP. I only give my best speeches to people who survive their first Nekomata lecture without crying.”

You grin. “Lucky me.”

He flashes you a big smile. “Come on. I’ll show you the best place to ever exist”

The campus stretches out like a display ,marble buildings, shiny water fountains, and trimmed hedges that practically scream “you don’t belong here.”

But Hinata’s presence balances it out perfectly.

He’s easy. Chatty without being pushy. Walks like he’s seen everything ten times and still thinks it’s kind of weird. You’re halfway through a winding path lined with trimmed hedges and old lamp posts when he starts back up with his explanations.

“Okay, so outside campus there is this fancy part where you’ve got the prim-and-polished restaurants, family-owned by Primus or Magnus, Michelin-starred, usually only with reservation or invitation. They’re fine if you want gold leaf on your pancakes or waiters who judge your shoes.”

He steers you toward a smaller, tree-lined street just beyond the campus edge. There’s no fancy glass signage or velvet ropes, just a hand-painted wooden board and the soft scent of grilled miso and steamed rice.

Hinata gestures to the wooden board with pride. “That’s where we’re going.”

You follow his gaze to a worn sign hanging above a sliding door: The Bento Den .

“Don’t let the vibe fool you,” he adds, opening the door. “This place is sacred. Chef’s a legend.”  

He pauses, then adds, “And yeah, you can actually eat in here, despite the name. Most people think it’s just Bentos.”

You glance at the sign again.

“Obviously they do Bentos too” he continues. “You bring your own box, and the Chef fills it up for you to take with. Super popular, especially during exams.”

Inside, the vibe shifts instantly. It smells like soy sauce and sesame oil, warm rice and fresh broth. The light is soft ,sun-faded menus on the wall being the main decoration. Students sit in mismatched booths, laughing or quietly scrolling through phones, their trays half-full and chopsticks mid-air.

“This is the best spot on campus,” Hinata says proudly. “Mostly Novus. Some Vesper. Once in a while a Magnus kid wanders in, but nobody makes a scene. The chef hates that.”

You look at him. “Seriously?”

Hinata nods, deadpan. “One time someone bowed too dramatically when a Primus kid came in. The chef took away their food.”

You grin, amused. “Power move.”

“Right? But yeah, chef believes in food for everyone. Doesn’t care who your family is, just if you chew with your mouth closed.”

You order something safe, udon and some tea, while Hinata dives headfirst into the curry special. You both settle into a booth near the back, chopsticks clicking softly.

There’s a lull, but it’s comfortable.

“So,” Hinata says around a bite of rice, “are you, like… into anything specific? Clubs? Sports? Secret skills?”

You raise an eyebrow. “What kind of clubs would accept someone who’s—” you stop yourself. Not allowed to say. “What kind of clubs even take someone from Novus?”

He chews thoughtfully, then shrugs. “Depends. A lot care about what dorm you’re from. Some don’t. But most will accept you if you’re ridiculously good at something.”

You hum, taking a sip of your miso soup. “Doesn’t sound like I have a shot.”

He grins. “People said that about me, too. Figured I only got in because I can jump stupid high.”

You blink. “Wait. Like, literally?”

“Yup. Volleyball,” he says, pointing to himself with his chopsticks as he puffs out his chest. “Hinata Shōyō: ‘The Little Giant.’.”

You giggle slightly, finally letting the tension melt off your shoulders. The food is good. The place is better. And Hinata feels almost like gravity. Keeps your feet on the ground even when the rest of campus feels like it’s floating ten feet above your head.

He cleans some stray rice from his tray. “You’ve got potential, y’know.”

You blink confused. “At eating noodles?”

“At not panicking. That’s rare here at least for Novus.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ve panicked, trust me.”

“Yeah, but you did it quietly. That counts for something.”

The two of you eat until your trays are empty and your stomach feels calm for the first time all day.

Maybe this place isn’t so impossible after all.

Not when you have someone like Hinata on your side.

The first few days kind of blur together after that. Everything’s still overwhelming, but not as sharp around the edges. You start falling a little into a routine. The buildings are still way too fancy, and the social stuff still feels like a minefield, but with Hinata’s constant side comments and the smell of sesame oil that clings to your hoodie after every Bento Den visit, it starts to feel a little easier to handle.

Hinata sends you memes at 1 a.m. and somehow still manages to be chipper in class at 9.

You walk together to lectures, looking at burnt-orange skies and make sarcastic commentary about essentially everything going on around you.

And the Bento Den kinda becomes a second home.

Every table and chair creaks a little differently. The menu changes just enough to keep things interesting. You even start waving to the chef (he never waves back) but you’ve convinced yourself that his nod is a subtle acknowledgment of your presence.

It’s entirely part of your routine now.

And exactly that’s what makes it jarring when one Thursday afternoon, your phone pings with a message from Hinata just as you're heading out:

Hinata ☀️:
hey hey! can't make Bento Den today 😭 stuck helping with a club thing for🫠 you'll survive without me. maybe.

You sigh, pausing mid-step.

It’s not a big deal. You’ve gone to the Bento Den enough times now. You know the menu, know the way the line snakes through the room, know to grab the ginger soy eggplant before it sells out.

Still… it feels weird walking in alone.

And of course today, the Den is packed .

You try to shake it off. It’s not a big deal. People eat alone all the time. You’ve done it before. But as you step inside, the sheer noise and motion of the room hits different when you don’t have a familiar person walking beside you.

The place is loud. People talking, trays banging, chairs dragging across the floor. Even the Chef looks slightly overwhelmed, but he moves fast, like he’s done this a hundred times before.

“Find a seat wherever you can,” he calls without looking up. “If there’s space, sit. No table hoarding.”

You start scanning.

Most tables are two or four-tops, already half-covered in steaming bowls and crumpled napkins. Your eyes skim past a booth, a crowded bar stool, a cluster of people huddled over ramen, and then you spot him.

Back left corner. Alone. Hoodie pulled up. Fingers lazily scrolling on his phone. One earbud in. There’s a tray in front of him, half-finished miso and what looks like a side of fried tofu. He’s hunched slightly, body language broadcasting do not disturb louder than a neon sign.

But the seat across from him is empty.

You hesitate.

Then you hear the chef again. “Sit where there’s space.”

You approach carefully, not wanting to startle him.

“Hey,” you say softly, motioning toward the opposite chair. “Mind if I sit here?”

The guy looks up.

Golden eyes. Tired. Sharp but in a quiet kind of way, like he sees too much and says too little.

He blinks once.

Then nods. “Go ahead.”

You slide into the seat with a quiet “thanks,” setting your bag down and putting your phone on the table..

He goes back to his phone, not saying anything else.

Which is fine.

You’re not sure if you wanted conversation anyway.

But still… there’s something about him that sticks with you.

Like you’ll remember this day, not for anything big, just… you don’t even know how to describe it yourself.

You tap your fingers lightly against your knee, eyes drifting to the counter every few seconds. You’d already placed your order, and now you’re just waiting for your name to be called.

Across the table, the guy you asked to sit with hasn’t looked up once.

Blond hair now falling slightly in front of his eyes, thumbs tapping rhythmically against his phone. Not completely antisocial you think just... closed off. Detached in a way that made it clear he wasn’t looking to start a conversation. The kind of quiet that wasn’t shy, just uninterested.

But anyways you debate saying something. Maybe a casual thank you again. Maybe—

The bell rings at the counter, and your name’s called. Saved by timing.

You stand, pushing your chair back with a soft scrape. Before walking off, you glance toward the guy again.

“Hey,” you say, maybe a bit awkwardly. “Would you mind keeping an eye on my bag for a sec?”

He doesn’t look up, but his head tilts slightly.

“Okay,” he replies, quiet and short, almost like an afterthought.

You offer a small smile. “Thanks.”

The line at the counter moves quickly. Your tray’s ready, comfort food done right like always. The chef gives you a grunt of acknowledgement before already shouting the next name.

You head back to your seat, setting the tray down carefully. Across from you, the guy put his phone down it seems.

But he’s not eating, his tray nearly finished, a few bits of rice left, chopsticks set down like he forgot they were even in his hand.

He glances at you as you sit. Just a flick of the eyes. Curious.

You meet his gaze for a second longer than intended. Then, without thinking, you speak.

“So… do you come here often?” you ask, instantly regretting how much it sounds like a bad pickup line.

To your surprise, he actually answers. “Sometimes.”

You nod, tapping your chopsticks together lightly. “Food’s really good.”

He nods once. “Yeah.”

Silence.

You pick up a bite of your food, chew thoughtfully, and then try again. “I’m new. Kinda figuring out where stuff is.”

That earns a bit more. He shifts slightly in his seat, head tilting.

“Transfer?” he asks.

You nod. “Technically.”

Another pause.

He then gives a tiny nod, and picks up his chopsticks again, slowly, like there’s no rush in the world. It’s then that you realize he’s still working on his food, not because he just got it, but because he eats like there’s not only 24 hours in the day. Like time stretches for him differently.

The buzz of conversation continues around you. The Bento Den stays loud, busy, alive. But your table stays calm.

Eventually, he finishes the last few grains of rice and stands, tray in hand.

He pauses for a second, eyes meeting yours.

“Later” he says simply.

And then he’s gone.

You blink at the space he left behind, wondering if that counted as a conversation.

You’re pretty sure it didn’t. And honestly, he probably didn’t even mean the “later” part. It’s not like you even know his name.

The next day, you expected things to go back to normal but life had other plans.

Hinata’s already waiting by the corner of the lecture building when you catch up to him. His expression is sheepish, like he’s about to confess to a crime.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, the coach pulled me into this last-minute thing for the tournament,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “I won’t make it to lunch.”

You wave it off with a grin. “It’s fine. I think I can manage one meal alone. But you’re buying next time, interest included.”

Hinata laughs. “Wow, charging me interest now? Harsh.”

“Consider it for emotional damages” you shoot back.

“Okay okay whatever you say” he teases. “Just don’t let the Bento Den swallow you whole.”

You roll your eyes, trading quick goodbyes before heading off on your own.

The Bento Den is busy, but manageable this time. It’s got that usual hum of conversations, kitchen clatter, chopsticks tapping against bowls. The smell of miso and grilled meat hangs in the air.

You already know what you’re getting today.

Tray in hand, you head for an open seat by the window. It’s not quiet, but it’s away from the main flow of traffic.. Halfway through your meal, you hear the familiar scrape of a chair being pulled out.

You glance up.

It’s him again.

The quiet guy from yesterday. Hoodie, still slightly oversized. Blond-black hair tucked behind his ears. Eyes locked onto you in that unreadable, unbothered way.

“You mind?” he asks.

You swallow. “Go for it.”

He sits. Doesn’t pull out his phone. Doesn’t start eating. Just… sits there. Watching.

You take another spoon full of food and just try to focus on chewing, not on the full-on surveillance happening across the table.

You glance up. Yep. Still staring. No blinking.

Is this some kind of weird social experiment?

You shift in your seat, clearing your throat.

“Okay,” you say, pointing your chopsticks at him “You can just talk to me, or is this some kind of weird staring contest I didn’t sign up for?”

He blinks. Once. Slowly.

“You started it last time” he says.

You raise an eyebrow. “I asked you to watch my bag. That’s basic human decency, not an invitation for a psychic staring contests.”

For the first time, his lips twitch. Not quite a smile, more like a glitch in his resting neutral face.

“I’m Kenma,” he says finally.

You tell him your name back, and then add, “So, Kenma… is this how you make friends? Stare until they get annoyed enough to talk first?”

He tilts his head. “Worked on you, didn’t it?”

You blink.

Oh. Oh, he’s a menace.

You snort, not quite suppressing your laugh. “Okay, fair. But next time just say ‘hi’ like a regular person. Saves you the death glare.”

Kenma picks up his chopsticks, casually stirring his soup. “Talking’s overrated. Most people just say things to fill space.”

You lean forward a bit, eyes narrowing playfully. “And what? You’re above that?”

“Not above. Just conserving energy.”

You shake your head, grinning despite yourself. “You’re lucky the food’s good here. I might’ve moved tables otherwise.”

He glances at your tray. “That the ginger eggplant?”

You blink. “Yeah.”

“That’s the best thing on the menu.”

You pause, mid-bite. “Was that… a genuine opinion? And you gave it to me unprompted ?”

He shrugs, completely deadpan. “Don’t get used to it.”

You chuckle again, and somehow, the silence that follows doesn’t feel as heavy as before.

Eventually, you gather your tray and stand.

“I’ve got class,” you say.

Kenma nods. “See you.”

You’re halfway to the trash station before you realize, he probably meant it this time.

And weirdly… you wouldn’t mind if you did.

Chapter Text

The lecture hall slowly empties while you tuck your notes into your bag, your hand sore from scribbling and your head still trying to catch up with everything that you heard today.

Hinata is already halfway down the aisle, waiting. You give him a small nod, you’ll catch up in a second. He takes the cue and slips into the hallway, while you glance down at your desk to make sure you didn’t forget anything.

That’s when it happens.

Your pen rolls, slowly at first, then it slips straight off the desk.

You lunge too late.

By the time you glance down, someone else has already picked it up.

Or specifically someone ridiculously tall has picked it up.

He doesn’t just stand, he towers over you . Long limbs that make you crane your neck up farther than you thought possible. And he’s smiling. Not just a polite smile and definitely not a practiced one. A big, easy grin like he’s just scored a point in a game.

“Hey, this yours?”

His voice is bright, casual, like he’s known you for ages. He hands the pen back with eagerness, like the act of returning it to you was somehow fun.

You blink, a little caught off guard. “Uh… yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem!” His grin only widens. “Man, people drop stuff all the time here. I’m basically the lost-and-found.” He laughs at his own joke, loud and open. “One time I even caught a phone mid-air before it hit the ground. Pretty good reflexes, right?”

There’s no hesitation in him. Just unfiltered pride, like a golden retriever wagging its tail. And somehow, instead of feeling threatened by his sheer size, you feel… slightly disarmed.

“I’m Lev,” he adds quickly. “Lev Haiba.”

You nod, still processing the burst of energy he is radiating. “I’m—”

“New, right?” He beams before you can finish. “I haven’t really seen you before. And I definitely would’ve noticed. You don’t look lost exactly, but you’ve got that ‘first week’ look. It’s cool though! Everyone’s lost at first.”

Your lips twitch before you can stop them. He’s not wrong.

“Anyway, welcome!” Lev says it with the confidence of someone who’s definitely not on the orientation committee but thinks he should be. “Veritas is wild, but you’ll get used to it. Just stick with people who don’t suck.” He pauses for half a second, then leans in like he’s letting you in on something. “And if you do run into people who suck, come find me. I’m tall, so I’ll just… block their view. Your own personal human shield.”

You blink at him, because who in the world offers to be a human shield for someone they literally just met? The absurdity of it makes you laugh, caught off guard but still unable to help yourself.

Lev brightens instantly, like your laugh is the best reward imaginable. “See! That’s good. You’ve got a great laugh.”

The warmth in your chest is immediate and you clear your throat trying to distract yourself from the effect that actually had on you. “I should… get going. I’m meeting someone.”

“Oh–yeah, of course!” He straightens up quickly, but the corners of his lips dip for the first time. Not pouting exactly, just… deflated, like someone told him play time was over. “Right. Got it.”

Then his eyes flicker with hope again before he asks. “But hey, we'll see each other again, yeah?”

The way he says it isn’t heavy or demanding, just eager, the same way as a puppy that waits at the door for its owner to come back.

You bite back the obvious thought  ‘ of course we’ll see each other again, we literally have class together’ and instead pause for a second. Then you nod. “Maybe.”

That’s all it takes to make Lev beam again, almost like you’ve personally handed him a win. “Cool! Then see you, maybe!”

He waves a little too enthusiastically (nearly knocking into another student) and fumbles a quick apology before flashing you another grin. Then he’s already heading out the door ahead of you. You follow a moment later, cheeks still warm, and rejoin Hinata in the hallway.

Hinata glances at you curiously. “Everything good?”

You tuck the pen firmly into your bag this time. “Yeah. Just… met someone new.”

Hinata brightens, but then his phone buzzes. He checks the screen, groans, and shoves it back into his pocket. “Ugh, club thing. I gotta run. You’ll be fine on your own, yeah?”

You raise a hand in quick acknowledgement. “Yeah, go!”

And just like that, he’s gone, swallowed up by the crowd.

Your own steps carry you towards the Bento Den. Lev’s grin lingers stubbornly in your thoughts, bright, big, and incredibly hard to forget.

At the Bento Den you end up across from Kenma, quiet company over half-finished bowls and few words that somehow linger longer than they should, his golden-eyed stare lingers at the back of your thoughts.

By the time you make it back to Novus, the weight of the day crashes over you. You shut the dorm door behind you and lean against it for a long second, letting the silence settle. The room feels sterile, almost too quiet compared to the chaos of campus life that you have been experiencing.

You drop your bag on the desk, then sink down onto your bed.

Your thoughts don’t scatter evenly, instead they latch onto specific people.

First, Lev. His ridiculous grin, his easy confidence, the way he looked a little crestfallen when you said you had to leave. He was impossible to ignore, not just because of his height, but because he radiated so much energy. Like he’d decided, in those few minutes, that you were already worth his attention.

Then Kenma. Entirely different, but just as lingering. Quiet voice, heavy gaze, he didn’t need to say much to leave an impression. At first, the staring threw you off.
Honestly? He seemed a little weird, like he hadn’t learned the part where you’re supposed to blink during conversations. But his eyes, sharp, golden,were hard to look away from. Beautiful in a way that made you uncomfortable, and yet, impossible not to notice.

And then, there’s them.

The memory replays without your permission.

Conversations silenced. The gravitational pull of Wakatoshi Ushijima and the group around him. You can still see the line of his shoulders, the deliberate calm in each step, the way people made space without even thinking. Untouchable.

But that wasn’t the part that lingers most.

It’s the glance.

Red hair, sharp features, that lazy grin that felt more like a test than a smile. The stranger’s eyes meeting yours like he could see straight through, like he found something amusing in the simple fact of you existing. You hadn’t dared to hold his gaze, but the heartbeat that spiked in your chest still is something you can’t forget.

You press your palms over your face.

Three people. Three completely different energies.
Lev, bright and unfiltered.
Kenma, quiet and sharp.
The red-haired stranger with the unsettling grin.

You’ve only been here for a short while, and already it feels like things keep moving before you can settle in.

You let out a slow breath and lie back on the bed, staring at the plain ceiling.

Your mind won’t stop circling back, to Lev’s grin, Kenma’s sharp eyes, and the stranger whose gaze you really, really shouldn’t have met.

The thoughts keep looping, tugging at you in ways you don’t want to unpack yet, when there’s suddenly a knock at your door.

You sit up quickly, heart stuttering for a second before a familiar voice calls:
“Hey! It’s me. Don’t freak out.”

You open the door to find Hinata leaning against the frame, a bag of chips crinkled under his arm and a grin on his face.

“Thought you might need a snack refill” he says, already stepping inside like he belongs here.

You shake your head, amused, and shut the door behind him. “Breaking and entering with snacks. Bold strategy.”

Hinata grins wider. “I figured if I came empty-handed, you’d kick me out.”

He flops into your desk chair, spinning halfway before cracking the chips open. “You lived through Bento Den without me but don’t worry, your emotional support lunch buddy is back on duty.” he wiggles his eyebrows “You didn’t even text me crying even though I left you to fend on your own. Impressive.”

You roll your eyes, settling back onto the bed. “I wasn’t going to cry. It’s food, not a battlefield.”

“Hey, don’t underestimate food” he says seriously. “Food decides everything. Alliances, friendships… sometimes even wars.” He tosses a chip into his mouth, crunching dramatically.

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he says cheerfully, “but I’m right. So, c'mon, tell me. Who’d you sit with? Did you meet some interesting people?”

You hesitate, remembering golden eyes across a Bento tray “Some people.”

Hinata leans forward eagerly. “Some people ? Already making connections, huh? Nice! That’s Novus grit. I told you people notice when we rise.”

You snort, throwing a pillow lightly at him. “You’ve been waiting all day to say that again, haven’t you?”

He blocks the pillow with his knees and grins. “Maybe. But still, it’s true. You’ll see. Novus kids always surprise people.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help smirking. “Novus grit, Novus this, Novus that… Hinata, do you have a quota of pep talks to deliver, or is this just a personal hobby?”

He laughs, clearly delighted by your teasing. “Maybe a bit of both.”

You watch him for a moment, the way his optimism fills the room, he doesn’t have to try, it’s just who he is. For all the sharp edges of Veritas, the cold halls, the invisible lines between dorms, and the sharp glances that can catch you off guard, Hinata feels different. A little anchor in this crazy storm.

And yet… the difference is there. He belongs here in ways you don’t. Family, money, a name that opens doors you’d never even knock on. Even if it isn’t as obvious this air is still around him.

You push the thought away, forcing a grin. “So, are you going to steal all my chips or share like a decent human being?”

Hinata gasps, mock-offended, and slides the bag across the desk. “Rude. I brought these. But fine, take some. Generosity is my middle name.”

You grab a handful, crunching happily. The silence that falls is easy. Comfortable.

Eventually, Hinata tilts his chair back, balancing dangerously on two legs. “Hey,” he says casually, “you’re doing okay, right? Like… with all this? Classes, people, the vibes?”

The question catches you off guard. For a second, you wonder if he sees more than he lets on.

But you smile, small and sure. “Yeah. I think I’m figuring it out.”

“Good,” he says, nodding firmly. “’Cause I told you, Novus might be bottom of the ladder, but we’ve got grit. And now…” He points a chip at you. “You’re officially part of the squad.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “What squad?”

“This squad,” Hinata says proudly. “Me. You. Snacks. Invincible.”

You can’t help but grin. “Yeah. Invincible.”

And just like that, the weight in your chest lightens. Even with everything else, right now, in this small dorm room, with Hinata’s laughter filling the air, all this doesn’t feel so impossible.

It feels almost… normal.

Later, when the room goes quiet again and Hinata finally heads off to his own dorm, you stretch out on your bed. For the first time since arriving, your thoughts don’t immediately tumble into panic. Instead, they wander. Back to Lev’s overbright smile in class, to Kenma’s stare across the Bento Den table, to the way the hall seemed to bend around Ushijima and the stranger at his side. None of it feels connected, not yet, but the pieces keep circling in your mind.

It’s strange, you think. This short time here already feels heavier than years back home. But at least you’re not all alone.

The next morning, the campus feels a little brighter, sunlight catching on the steps, the hum of conversation already loud around you. You’re still half-asleep, dragging your bag higher onto your shoulder, when Hinata shows up beside you.

“Morning!” he chirps, entirely too energetic for this hour.

You give him a side glance. “How are you like this before coffee?”

“Natural talent” he says proudly, then elbows you lightly. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to class. We’ll be early, but that just means better seats, or at least the best Novus seats”

You roll your eyes but fall into step beside him. 

And then, like fate:

“Hey!”

A voice cuts through the noise, warm and unmistakably enthusiastic.

You turn just in time to see Lev jogging toward you, his long legs covering the distance in half the time it would take anyone else. He waves (too big and very noticeable) and a few students glance his way before looking quickly back down at their phones.

“There you are!” he says, coming to a quick stop. His grin is exactly as you remembered, easy and blinding. “Knew I’d find you again.”

You blink. “You… were looking for me?”

“Obviously,” Lev says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You think I’d just let you disappear after yesterday? No way.”

Yesterday? Seriously? Was that moment really that special for him to seek you out like that

Hinata glances between you two, eyebrows lifting. “Wait, you know each other?”

Lev beams. “Oh yeah. We met in class yesterday. They dropped their pen. I saved it. Reflexes.” He does a mock ninja move with his hands, completely unbothered by the stares it earns.

Hinata snorts, covering his mouth with his hand. “Sounds about right. I’m Hinata! Novus!”
“Lev! Vesper!” Lev says instantly, clapping Hinata on the shoulder like they’ve known each other for years. He squints suddenly. “Wait, are you the guy who was yelling at the vending machine yesterday?”

Hinata blinks, then bursts into laughter. “Okay, first of all, it ate my coins. Second, I was encouraging it.”

“Encouraging it?” Lev repeats, scandalized. “You were straight-up threatening it. I thought you were about to wrestle the thing.”

Hinata points at him, grinning. “Hey, and it worked, didn’t it? Got my Pocky in the end.”
Lev throws his head back, laughing loud enough to turn a few heads. “Man, you’re unhinged. I like it.”

You watch as the two of them fall into banter like it’s the easiest thing in the world, Hinata’s quick-fire comebacks bouncing perfectly off Lev’s enthusiasm. It’s loud, sure, but in a way that makes the walk feel lighter.

“So, where are we heading?” Lev asks, falling into stride beside you.

“Class,” you answer, though it comes out a little flat, your brain still catching up to his sudden presence.

“Perfect! I’ll walk with you. Gotta make sure you don’t get lost.” Lev winks dramatically, then lowers his voice in mock seriousness. “Veritas is basically a labyrinth. Without me, you might’ve ended up in Primus territory, and then what? Instant doom.”

Hinata laughs, shaking his head. “He’s not wrong. Primus kids would eat you alive.”

“Exactly,” Lev says, pointing at him like they’ve just uncovered a conspiracy. “See? He gets it.”

You can’t help but smile, even as you shake your head. “I think I’ll manage without a bodyguard.”

“Not a bodyguard,” Lev corrects, grinning down at you. “More like… a really tall sidekick. Way cooler.”

You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch upward anyway.

The three of you find your way through the crowds together, Lev towering above a lot of the other students, Hinata chattering away beside you, and you caught in the middle. It feels… different with both of them here, you are almost comfortable.

Almost.

Because when Lev leans down to ask about your classes, or when his grin lingers just a second too long after you laugh, there’s a flutter in your chest. But honestly, who can blame you? He looks like he walked straight out of a magazine spread.

With the addition of Lev you took a bit longer so by the time you step into the lecture hall, most of the good seats are already claimed. Chatter filling all the rows, expensive notebooks laid neatly on desks, tablets propped before most students.

You’re scanning for a spot when Lev waves you over, already sliding into a seat halfway up the aisle. “Here! Sit with me!”

Hinata nudges your shoulder, grinning. “Guess you’ve been recruited.”

You roll your eyes but follow anyway, slipping into the seat beside Lev, Hinata takes the one on your other side.

The professor begins setting up slides at the front, shuffling papers with practiced importance. Around you, students fall into a hush, pens already in their hands and eyes forward.

All except Lev.

He leans toward you almost immediately, lowering his voice but not nearly enough. “Okay, wait, what exactly is this class again?”

You blink. “…Economics.”

Lev nods like you’ve just revealed a grand mystery. “Right, right, totally. I knew that.” He pauses, frowns. “So… like, money stuff?”

You suppress a laugh. “Yes. Money stuff.”

You stare at him, wondering how on earth someone who’s been here longer than you still needs to ask in what class he is. Was this guy actually serious? Apparently, yes.

“Cool, cool,” he says, scribbling something across his notebook. You glance over. He’s written the word MONEY in big block letters across the top of the page. Then he underlines it twice.

The professor clears his throat, launching into a lecture about market dynamics. You start taking notes automatically, words tumbling across the page.

Lev lasts about thirty seconds before leaning over again. “Hey. What’s… uh… what’s supply and demand?”

Your pen stills. “…You seriously don’t know?”

He grins sheepishly, whispering, “I mean, I’ve heard of it. But like… what is it ?”

Hinata leans over from your other side, barely containing his laugh. “Dude. It’s literally the most basic thing.”

Lev shrugs helplessly, looking between the two of you like you’ve betrayed him with your superior knowledge. “Hey, don’t judge me! I never said I'm smart.”

You shake your head, trying not to laugh as you scribble a quick diagram in the corner of your notes. A simple X with supply and demand curves. You slide the notebook toward him. “Here. This is the whole idea.”

Lev stares at it like you’ve just given him the answers to every test ever. His eyes widen. “Ohhh. Lines! Crossing lines! Okay, that actually makes sense.” He beams, genuinely proud of himself. “You’re, like… really good at this. Way better than the teacher.”

The professor’s voice booms from the front: “Haiba. If you’re finished with your private tutoring session, perhaps you could share your insights with the class?”

Lev freezes, caught mid-grin. “…Uh. Supply and… uh…” He squints at your notebook, then blurts, “Supply and lines ?”

A ripple of laughter spreads through the hall.

Your face burns as you shove your notebook back toward him. Lev, however, just laughs with them, unfazed. “Nailed it.”

Hinata is doubled over beside you, whispering, “Supply and lines ! That’s a new one.”

You bury your face in your hands. But when you peek through your fingers, Lev’s still grinning, bright, shameless, like he genuinely doesn’t mind being the punchline.

And somehow… it makes you laugh, too.

When the lecture finally ends, you’re stuffing your notebook into your bag as quickly as possible, face still hurting from all the laughing about Lev’s “supply and lines” moment.
Lev, on the other hand, looks like he just crushed the exam. “That was awesome!” he declares, stretching his arms above his head like he’d just run a marathon. “I actually get it now. Economics is easy when you explain it.”

You can’t help laughing. “You literally got it wrong in front of everyone.”

“Details” he says cheerfully. “Besides, you saw how everyone laughed? Boom. Instant icebreaker. Now they’ll remember me.”

Hinata shakes his head, still snickering. “Oh, they’ll remember you, alright.”

Lev slings his bag over his shoulder, then turns to you with that same boundless grin. “Hey–so, what are you doing later?”

Your eyebrows lift. “Later?”

“Yeah! You should come by Vesper with me.” He says it so casually, like he’s inviting you to grab a coffee. “Everyone hangs out in the lounge after class, it’s the best. Big couches, games, free snacks… You’ll love it.”

The words land heavier than he probably realizes.
Vesper.
Your stomach tightens instantly.

“I don’t know…” you start carefully. “I’ve got a lot of reading to catch up on.”

Lev waves the excuse away like it’s a fly. “So bring it with you! No one cares if you’re reading in the lounge. And you’ve gotta meet my friends, they’re awesome. They’ll love you.”

You picture it for half a second, those couches, the laughter, all those sharp eyes turning toward you, questioning if you belonged. The thought alone sends heat crawling up the back of your neck.

“I really shouldn’t,” you say quickly. “Maybe another time.”

Lev’s grin falters for the second time since you met him. His shoulders dip like you’ve just told him his favorite show got canceled. “…Oh. Right. Sure. Another time.”

The guilt prickles sharp in your chest. You look away, pretending to fix the strap on your bag.

Hinata notices. You feel it in the silence, his eyes flicking between you and Lev. He doesn’t say anything, but his brow furrows for a heartbeat before smoothing out again.

But then Lev perks up again, relentless. “Wait, what about tomorrow? Or the day after? I mean, you’ve gotta come at least once! Otherwise how are we supposed to become, like… actual friends?”

You open your mouth, scrambling for another excuse, but he’s already leaning closer, his smile wide and so hopeful it’s impossible to ignore.

“C’mon,” he says, bouncing slightly on his heels. “Just one visit. Please? You can’t say no to this face.” He points at himself, pulling the most dramatic puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen.

Hinata snorts. “Wow. Weaponized puppy eyes. Dangerous.”

Lev seizes on the moment. “See? Even he agrees! If I use this face, it’s basically cheating, you have to say yes.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, torn between exasperation and the strange warmth in your chest. Because how do you say no to Lev? You’ve only known him for two days, and already he looks at you like your answer might make or break his week.

“…Fine,” you mutter at last. “But just for a little while.”

Lev lights up instantly, throwing both fists into the air like he just scored a match point. “Yes! Knew you’d say yes! This is gonna be amazing.”

Students walking past turn to look, but Lev doesn’t notice. He’s already off and running, rambling about how his dorm is never boring, how someone’s always playing music too loud or painting in the common room, how him and his friends sometimes do random shit but it’s always fun. His voice is loud and unfiltered, but not a single part of him seems to care.

Hinata laughs. “You’ve created a monster.”

“Correction,” Lev says proudly, puffing out his chest, “you’ve created the best tour guide slash sidekick slash future best friend on the entire campus.”

You roll your eyes but there is a small smile on your lips.

And as you trail after them toward the hallway, the sound of Lev’s voice still lingering in your ears, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve just agreed to something much bigger than a simple lounge visit.

Chapter Text

Your last class of the day ended, you heard papers rustling and some chatter between students as they slowly spilled out into the hall. Your brain feels wrung out, the online talk about how this college is obviously just an excuse to give the rich kids an education on paper without them having to actually do anything was definitely false, no previous class day made you this exhausted in your entire life.

Sluggishly you start putting your things away but before you can even tuck away your notes, a familiar shadow falls across your desk.

“Found you!” Lev’s voice is like always bright, and completely unbothered by the fact that others are looking at him. He gives you that giant grin like always his behaviour seemed so puppy like that sometimes you swear you could see a tail behind him swaying back and forth. His grin somehow widens when he sees that Hinata is also right next to you. “Perfect. Both of you. Let’s go.”

Hinata perks up instantly. “Finally time for the exclusive dorm tour!”

“Yup!” Lev beams, slinging his bag over his shoulder with way too much energy for someone who definitely didn’t take real notes in his lecture. “No better time than now.”

You shoot Hinata a look, silently asking if he’s really on board with this. He just grins wider, already halfway to the door.

So without any other choice, you go.

Vesper sits tucked a little further back from the main stretch of campus, the kind of building that looks older than it should but somehow makes that feel intentional. Ivy curls up its red-brick walls, unlike what you always see from afar from Primus, Vesper feels… lived in.

Lev practically bounces up the steps two at a time, spinning back to make sure you’re following. “Okay, so, first rule: don’t trip on the stairs. They creak. Loudly. Everyone will hear.” He demonstrates by stomping once, and sure enough, the wooden groan echoes up the entryway. A girl leaning on the railing above yells down, “Haiba, stop that!”

Lev waves like she just complimented him instead of screaming at him. “See? Everyone here is super friendly!”

Hinata muffles a laugh beside you.

Inside, Vesper is nothing like Novus. Posters are taped crookedly on the walls, string lights zigzag between door frames, and someone’s music drifts faintly down the stairwell. It smells faintly like coffee and paint thinner, but not in a bad way, just in a way that shows what people are doing here. And maybe that’s what strikes you most, there are actually people around. Students leaning in doorways mid-conversation, sprawled across couches with sketchbooks or guitars.

Looking around you really noticed how it’s different from Novus, where so many students vanish the second they even have to enter the building, ducking out to avoid being tied to the dorm that marks them as being at the very bottom. Here, no one looks like they’re embarrassed to be seen. Vesper isn’t perfect from everything you heard, but it feels like the kind of place people actually choose to exist in.

For a second, your gaze drifts, half-expecting, no, half-hoping,  to maybe catch a familiar figure somewhere among the couches or stairwells. Kenma entered your mind, the way he’d hunched over his food at the Bento Den like the rest of the room didn’t exist. You haven’t seen him around Novus, and Vesper feels like the kind of place he might belong.

Still, you shake the thought off. He doesn’t really seem like the type to hang around the common spaces anyway so it’s unlikely that you will even spot him. He’s seemingly more the type who stays tucked away in his room, completely unbothered even if the whole building burned down around him.

Lev spreads his arms wide like he’s presenting a palace which obviously draws your attention back to him. “Welcome to greatness. Sort of…Okay, maybe medium greatness, but still!”

You glance around, trying not to stare too obviously at anyone. “It’s… different.”

“Different’s good” Lev insists immediately. “Different’s fun. And this place? It’s full of the best people. You’ll see, trust me.”

He keeps up an endless amount of commentary as you walk through the building, pointing out a stairwell that leads to a rooftop garden, the lounge where someone always leaves half-finished canvases, the vending machine that eats coins but gives back candy anyway if you kick it in just the right way.

Hinata’s eyes dart everywhere,obviously very excited and curious. Yours linger on some more specific things like the hand-painted murals in the different corners, a hallway mirror covered in doodles and lipstick kisses, a battered couch that looks like it’s survived three generations of veeeeeeery questionable life choices.

And it all feels very much alive and normal for college unlike a lot of other things you have seen on this campus till now. You are almost able to ignore the brand logos on everything that the people are wearing or carrying around with them.

Lev spins on his heel, walking backward now with both hands gesturing like he’s narrating a grand tour (which with what you know about him in this short time, is exactly what he thinks he’s doing). “You’ll love it. I mean, you already met me, and I’m basically the welcome committee.”He flashes you his giant grin. “Wait until you meet the others.”

You arch a brow. “Others?”

“Oh yeah, the real stars of Vesper”  he says, lowering his voice like he’s building suspense, and throwing in a wink for good measure.

He looks so absurdly proud that you can’t help but smile back, even if part of you wonders what exactly you’ve signed up for.

And just as you open your mouth to ask, the sound of voices drifts closer.

Lev’s grin gets even bigger. “Perfect timing. You’re about to finally meet them.”

The voices get louder before you see anyone, laughter bouncing off the walls, a string of jokes shouted over one another, the kind of noise that the whole dorm probably hears.

And then they round the corner.

“Lev!” one of them shouts before you even realize who’s speaking. A short guy with spiky hair  launches himself forward like he’s about to tackle him with a giant grin. He’s interrupted by another guy, just as loud, and they both end up half-shoving Lev against the wall in a hug that looks more like a wrestling match.

“Miss us already?” the first one teases.
“Of course he did,” the second adds. “We’re essentially his only friends.”

Lev grins, completely unbothered by being nearly smothered. “Guys, timing couldn’t be better. Perfect, actually.” He steps forward, chest puffing like he’s about to show off. He points at Hinata first. “This is Hinata, basically the resident hype man at Novus” he says with a laugh, clapping Hinata on the shoulder. Then his arm sweeps toward you with dramatic flair.

“And this” he declares, “is my new favorite person.”

Your eyebrows shoot up so fast it’s a miracle they don’t fly off your face.

 Favorite? Seriously? Do rich people just… say stuff like that after knowing someone for less than a week? Is this normal in their world?

But he doesn’t even stop there. “They’re smart, like, actually smart, and they’re funny, and…” His grin becomes kinda mischievous. “…they have the best laugh. You will love it.”

Heat creeps up your neck so fast you nearly choke on your own breath. Who introduces someone like that? You can’t tell if you want to disappear into the floor or kick him in the shin.

The two chaotic ones, however, look delighted.

“Ohooo, Lev brought someone cool!” the shorter one practically yells. “Finally! Not another weirdo who only talks about stocks.”

Hinata lets out a laugh, and within seconds he’s dragged into their convo, their energy bouncing off his own like they’ve known each other forever. You don’t catch what they are saying but whatever Hinata said was followed by the loudest cheer from the spiky-haired one like it’s the best punchline he’s ever heard.

And just like that, Hinata’s gone, swallowed into their chaos while grinning from  ear to ear.

Lev, though, is still right at your side, glowing with pride about showing you off to his friends.

Before you can even recover, another voice cuts in, this time softer, calmer. “Don’t let them scare you.”
You glance over to see a guy who introduces himself as Yamaguchi, looking very much approachable, offering a small smile that immediately takes the edge off everything you just stepped into. “They mean well. Just you know… a lot of volume.”

“That’s an understatement!” one of the loud ones yells from where they’re already teaching Hinata a questionable handshake.

And finally, leaning against the wall next to you, there’s someone else. Lev introduces him as Semi, hair a little messy, one hand resting on the neck of a guitar like he’s just been pulled out of rehearsal. He doesn’t say much, just lifts his chin in greeting and you offer him a small wave back.

Lev claps his hands together like a showman. “And there you have it. Vesper’s finest.” He turns to you, grin softer now, almost expectant. “Pretty great, right?”

Your mouth twitches, fighting between being sarcastic and honest. “Overwhelming, maybe.”

Lev laughs, bright and warm. “That’s just the special welcome. You’ll get used to it.”

“Alright, alright,” Tanaka finally yells over the noise, throwing his arms out. “As much as I love this, I’m starving. Who else hasn’t eaten yet?”

“You always say you’re starving bro,” Noya snorts. “You literally just ate!”

“That was a pre-dinner snack.”

Hinata perks up immediately. “Hell yes, I also need to recharge my energy!”

Lev gasps dramatically. “How could I forget to feed my guests? Let's all go to the dining hall!”

Semi strums a chord before finally chiming in. “If you all keep staying here to yell, there won’t be food left by the time you get there.”

“Then we’ll run!” Noya adds like it’s a battle cry.

Tanaka mirrors him instantly. “To victory!”

Hinata’s eyes light up, completely caught up in their energy. “To food!”

Lev spins toward you with a grin that’s way too pleased. “See? This is the best squad. You’re coming, right?”

Your eyebrows lift. “Like I actually have a choice?”

“Exactly!” Lev beams, completely missing your sarcasm. “Group dinner, here we come!”

By the time you’ve all piled into the dining hall, finished your food, and survived the chaos of Tanaka and Noya arguing over which dessert counts as ‘the best’, the sun is dipping low.

Lev takes your tray and puts it away for you with his own before announcing “Okay. Best spot in Vesper? The roof. C’mon.”

And somehow, you go along with it (really with how energetic he is, how could anyone say no to him?), up some staircases, through a door that looks like it hasn’t been properly locked in years, until you step out into air that smells faintly like summer even though the evening breeze has cooled by now.

The rooftop is strung with fairy lights, zigzagging from the old railing to poles wedged into corners. Some couches that look like they’ve been dragged up here illegally sit in a loose circle, cushions patched and mismatched laying around. A couple of beanbags are thrown into the mix, and someone’s set up a battered speaker playing faint background music.

It’s not fancy, not even close, but the whole thing just speaks cozy.

“See?” Lev beams, holding his arms wide. “Best spot.”

Hinata’s already claimed a beanbag, nearly tipping it over as Noya cannonballs into the one beside him. Tanaka shouts something about that being his spot, and just like that, the three of them are gone again, caught in their own very loud world.

Semi though claimed a quieter corner, his guitar balanced casually across his lap. He strums a few chords, the music fits perfectly mixing with the hum of voices and the buzz of lights.

You take the edge of a couch, a little snack pack that you got from the dining hall sitting in your lap. Lev drops down beside you without hesitation, his knee bumping yours. He’s close, like he doesn’t know how to not take up your space, and when he leans over to steal some of your snacks without asking, he doesn’t even look guilty.

“Hey,” you protest, elbowing him lightly.
Lev just grins. “Sharing is caring.”

He stays there, shoulder brushing yours. After sitting there for a while exchanging jokes, he shifts again, this time letting his head rest against your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Warm, heavy, comfortable. He doesn’t comment on it, and you aren’t either. The weight of him on your shoulder feels nice, and now his cologne hits you. rich, a little sharp, and smelling way too good, making your heart skip without warning. 

At one point, Semi catches your gaze and smirks faintly, noticing how close Lev is to you. “Those two are loud” he says, nodding toward the others ”but they grow on you."

You smile, a little sheepish. “Already happening, I think.”

Semi nods, tapping his strings idly. “Good. They're some of the cool people around here. And without someone by your side you can’t really survive here.”

It’s light, easy conversation, but it sticks more than you expect,the way he says it like survival is actually a thing to think about here.

And maybe he’s not wrong.

The talk easily changes from food to classes to whatever wild thing Tanaka and Noya decide to argue about next. 

But then Yamaguchi sighs, leaning back against his beanbag. “You know what’s unfair? If a Primus kid just wandered into Vesper right now, nobody would care. No trouble, no warnings. But if any of us stepped into the Primus area? Boom. Write-up. Suspension sometimes  even.”

“Exactly!” Tanaka points at him . “If we even breathe near those stupid fenced off areas, we get dragged into some disciplinary meeting.”

Lev groans dramatically, tipping his head against your shoulder again like the injustice is physically exhausting him. “It’s like being a criminal for existing in the wrong hallway.”

Semi strums a low chord, voice lazy. “Not like rules ever stopped half of you.”

That earns a round of guilty laughs.

Still, the thought lingers, the way Vesper and especially Novus are always under the microscope, mistakes weighed heavier than anywhere else.

It’s not long before Noya lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Speaking of mistakes… did you hear about that Primus kid last week?” He wiggles his eyebrows like he’s about to spill a state secret. “Rumor is, he is involved in some shady business. There was talk that he was sneaking around to bring in someone from the outside but now people say he was looking for a deal.”

Tanaka’s grin sharpens. “You mean like drugs?”

“Shh!” Yamaguchi hisses immediately, glancing toward the door like someone might be listening. “Don’t even joke about that. If the wrong people hear-”

“What wrong people?” Tanaka leans forward, smirking. “It’s just us.”

Noya slaps the table with a laugh. “Exactly! No snitches in this circle. Right?”

Hinata, grinning, throws his hand up like it’s a pledge. “No snitching!”

Everyone echoes in loud agreement. 

But Semi adds, “I’d still hold off on that topic,anyone from Vesper could come up here. And honestly, those kinds of rumors? Pretty dangerous, and none of our business anyway.”

Noya leans back in his beanbag, hands behind his head, a hint of annoyance flashing across his face. “Yeah, yeah… okay. Oh, actually, have you heard about the new video game—”

Lev nudges you with his shoulder, still half-leaning on you like you’re his personal armrest. You barely hear Noya over it. “See? A pretty good night, huh?”

It’s ridiculous. Loud. Way too warm.

And for the first time since you set foot in Veritas, you feel like you’re sitting in the middle of something that could almost (almost) feel like a normal college experience.

Chapter Text

Hey everyone!
Just wanted to drop a quick update! Since it’s Kinktober this month and I'm very busy with it right now (and life’s been also a bit crazy lately), I might not be able to get the next chapter out this month. I promise I haven’t forgotten about the fic, it’s still very much in progress and maybe if I suddenly have time and a burst of motivation I get it ready quickly! 🥰

Thank you all so much for being patient and sticking with me, it really means a lot. I’d rather take the time to make sure the next chapter turns out the way I want it to than rush it.
In the meantime, I hope you’re enjoying Kinktober

I’ll delete this little once the next chapter is up! 

Love you guys, and I’ll be back with a new chapter hopefully soon! 💖