Chapter Text
The boys quickly entered the infirmary, and Yamaguchi locked the door; if it weren't for this strange situation and the pain, Shoyo might have thought about something inappropriate. The boy by the door sighed and leaned against it, but remembering he wasn't alone, he glanced at Hinata.
— Are you okay? Let me treat your wound, — he said, walking to the cabinet and grabbing the necessary supplies.
Looking at the boy before him, Yamaguchi swallowed hard. The scent had diminished somewhat, but the taste lingered in his mouth.
Shoyo sat there, staring at the floor. Too much had happened in one day — why was everyone around him acting so strangely?
It was just a bump on the head, a little blood, that’s all. So why was Yamaguchi so worried, and why had the others been utterly horrified?
He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear Yamaguchi call him for the third time. He only snapped out of it when Yamaguchi placed a hand on his cheek and gently turned his head.
— Hinata, I need to treat this. Please, look at me; you’re starting to scare me, — Shoyo blinked a few times but, realizing what was being asked of him, nodded.
Yamaguchi sighed and began carefully cleaning the blood. Afterward, he placed a bandage on the wound.
While tidying up and throwing everything away, Yamaguchi’s thoughts spiraled.
“If he’s human, what is he even doing here? Damn, the others must have sensed him. How did you make it here safely, Shoyo…?”
Lost in thought, he glanced back at Shoyo, who seemed to have calmed the storm in his mind and regained his composure. Shoyo was slowly looking around the room they were in. When he turned his head toward Yamaguchi, he realized they’d fallen into silence, simply staring at each other.
Yamaguchi’s thoughts wandered again. Shoyo looked so small, even compared to him.
— I think you should take a shower. Oh, and… — He turned toward the shelves and pulled out a white bottle that resembled shampoo.
— Shampoo? Why would I need that? — Shoyo asked, looking a bit surprised. Yamaguchi hesitated for a moment, pondering what to say.
— Well, this shampoo has a really nice scent. I think you’ll like it.
“Can’t exactly tell him it’ll help mask his scent from overly sensitive vampires.”
Shoyo looked at his friend, then back at the shampoo bottle.
— Alright… I’ll head out then.
— Wait, Hinata, let’s go back to the dorm together, — Yamaguchi scratched the back of his head.
Shoyo agreed, though the request seemed odd.
As the two walked toward the dorms, Yamaguchi silently prayed to every deity that no one would catch the boy’s scent.
To his surprise, nothing happened.
When they reached the dorm, the two parted ways. Shoyo went straight to the showers, taking the ill-fated shampoo with him.
— Surprising you didn’t tell him anything, — Yamaguchi nearly had a second heart attack for the day.
Entering his room, he found Tsukishima sitting on his bed. The room was dark, and light from the slightly open door fell on Tsukishima’s face, giving his eyes an even more golden hue.
— No… I wanted to, but I couldn’t, — Yamaguchi said, turning on the light and closing the door. Sitting on the opposite side of the bed, he looked at his friend.
— Not couldn’t. Didn’t want to. His scent’s got you all messed up, and now you don’t want to let go of your little pet, — Tsukishima retorted. He wasn’t wrong, and even Yamaguchi had to admit that. But a small voice of reason told him otherwise.
— Maybe you’re right. But if the headmaster let him in, something’s definitely off. It’s like letting prey into a cage full of wild animals, — Yamaguchi muttered. Tsukishima nodded in agreement, his amused expression growing.
What could the headmaster possibly be planning? Or was it somehow possible he didn’t even know Shoyo was human?
Even if that were the case, Tsukishima didn’t care. He wanted to see what would happen to the lamb among wolves. Would they devour him entirely, leaving nothing behind, or would the lamb rise above the wolves?
The thought made him smirk, anticipating an intriguing game.
Unsurprisingly, Yamaguchi swallowed nervously at that smirk, silently worrying about the human.