#goldfinwriting

[goldfinwrites]

Something had changed about Mahiru. He avoided questions about his extended absence, often citing a family emergency. Mahiru always stayed vague and never gave any more details, even when his classmates had tried to press for more information. His normal smile had a closed-off edge to it when questioned (like if he didn’t keep his guard up, something would crawl out from between his teeth).

Something had changed about Mahiru. He had begun to wear the wristband from Sakuya, which was worn-down and slightly frayed in patches, as if it had been used for years instead of a few short months. Several of his shirts had stitches in strange places, even along his back or down the sleeve (and sometimes there was a shallow scar that lined up with the neat repairs). His short hair had gotten longer than usual, making him look a little like the lanky, dark haired guy who sometimes met him at the school gate, not uncommonly with a crow or two fluttering around.

Something had changed about Mahiru. He checked in more often on his friends, asking them how they were doing (and when they answered, his gaze was always fixed on them, as if he could see through to something deep in their core). He walked faster, his steps even outpacing Koyuki, and he sometimes twisted his head to look behind him, even after his friends had caught up.

Something had changed about Mahiru. He felt somehow even more reliable than before, as if he could not only finish sewing the costumes for the school festival, but also knit together broken friendships. His normal mantra of dependability had a new tone to it, almost resolute (and it sometimes felt like Mahiru’s words carried the sound of creaking wood being crushed under a burden it wasn’t meant to bear).

Something had changed about Mahiru. Nobody could put their finger on it, but this Mahiru felt like an unfamiliar version of himself, though not fully a stranger. As if they were looking at a Mahiru from the future, or one that had lived a lifetime once already. His warm, reliable frame now felt just out of reach, almost as if one day he could just vanish into some other world and never be seen again.

Part 2

[heartfragment]

i really really liked kay's route and ended up writing smth about it; i dont think i can send links via ask box so ill tag my blog at the end if you'd like to see it

i just loved the actual ethics of like...was it morally correct...to find him...

im super excited for more inigo content as well he drives me insane (complimentary)

(also im EXTREMELY suspicious of shay tbh 👀!)

@goldfinwrites

I love this SO much, thank you soooo much for writing it omg <33 Such a good read & I adore the direction you went with it.

Here's a direct link if anyone else wants to check it out!

[goldfinwrites]

Doubt Doubt knew he had abandoned his faith alongside his humanity centuries ago, but still asked God for forgiveness when a blond child wandered into his basement, demanding a contract, and he had agreed. The child had stared at him, self-assured with a piercing gaze, despite the slight tremble in the arm he held out towards the vampire. Doubt Doubt had sunk his fangs into the offering and felt the shift in his being as he was overwritten with the new name “Jeje”.

The blond reminded him of some pagan trickster god, Jeje thought, coiled against the forearm of his Eve. The white shirt and hoodie were soft enough to not catch on his scales as he moved, keeping himself warm, as he kept his fangs neatly tucked away. Attempting to steal from his capricious partner would only earn him an ascetic punishment, as he had learned through experience. He had been ordered to fast entirely for a week on his last attempt as penitence for his transgression.

Jeje was nothing if not obedient to his Eve, regardless of how unreasonable the whims he was subject to were. The vampire grumbled much of the time, knowing Mikuni’s fickle nature meant deference was unlikely to be rewarded -- though penace would still be demanded for defiance. He had figured out his Eve years ago, seeing him hurl a pillow at his bruised (albeit richer) then-roommate. Temperamental, but never foolish or naïve enough to let it harm his goals. Though Jeje understood Mikuni well, at times the Eve felt unfathomable, whether appealing for the vampire to purchase drinks at the nearby vending machine or in the quiet hours of the night as he silently wandered the streets with the snake around his neck. Though neither the holy nor unholy were meant to be understood by mortal existences, Jeje was reminded as he looked over the sleeping form on the couch with a cowboy hat covering his face.

The streetlamps glowed overhead as Jeje checked his bags were secure. The impromptu training exercise he was commanded to do with the other Eves had left him extra wary. Mikuni’s blond hair almost shone beneath the light as he tipped his head back, finishing the rest of his bottled coconut milk. After confessing his deliberate loss, he had been sent to fetch an appropriate offering for his Eve, which had been eagerly taken. The acceptance of repentance had Jeje swallowing the complaints from earlier and simply admiring his Eve.

The blond child that had sought him out years ago had become a mercurial path towards redemption he did not deserve but clung to desperately. He had sworn fealty and devotion to the undivine man before him, as no god could be as fragile as a mortal Eve. Though gods were objects for humans to behold, and Jeje knew that no sacred being would gaze upon him, who had seen beyond death and wandered the world as a revenant.

Jeje drank from the vial, knowing his Eve’s blood was a rare sacrament to receive. As profane as this Eucharist was, he felt strength surging through his godforsaken body. He had left his faith behind in the world of the living, but his Eve was the closest thing to salvation he had ever tasted.

[goldfinwrites]

Part 1 Mahiru sat at his desk, trying to diligently take notes but finding his focus kept slipping. He tapped his pencil against his notebook before staring at the back of Ryuusei’s head.

“How do you do it?” Mahiru had asked Jun after his first day at school since he left. “Go back.” Jun hesitated, then dropped his gaze to the table. “You can’t. Or,” he smiled a bit sheepishly (though didn’t look back up), “not that I’ve found.” “Then….” Mahiru tried to piece together his words, making them simple and easy, but they vanished from his tongue. “How am I supposed to?” Jun’s brief smile had disappeared and his eyes were still on the table. “I’m sorry.”

The lunch bell rang and Mahiru jumped, his knees hitting the underside of his desk. The door was only a few feet away and two people were within arm’s length. “Jeez, man, are you okay?” Ryuusei had turned in his chair, looking at Mahiru. “Yeah, I’m fine!” Mahiru painted his face into an apologetic expression and chuckled nervously. “I just zoned out for a second.” His breath stuttered and he held it, counting to 10 before weakly exhaling. He picked up his books and supplies, nearly dropping his pencil from his hands shaking. He could feel Ryuusei still staring, making his skin prickle.

Tsurugi’s legs swung back in forth as he sat, perched on Mahiru’s balcony. “That’s called hypervigilance, least according to the docs!” He shoved the bun Mahiru had given him into his mouth, muffling his next words. “Course, putting it in a file doesn’t really mean anything at the end of the day.” “Does it ever stop?” Tsurugi shrugged, then leaned back, hanging off the balcony with his legs hooked around the railing. “Dunno. Nobody ever tried to fix it with me. It’s a good thing, being aware like that, when you’re hunting things.” Mahiru folded his arms and set his head on them, looking at the view. After a few seconds, he spoke up again. “What did you want for dinner?”

His fingers ran over the soft fabric of his wristband as he looked through store windows with Koyuki. “Do you see anything?” Koyuki shook his head. “Maybe somewhere else.” Mahiru checked their reflections in the glass before nodding. “Maybe there’s a fabric store around here. I could try and make a new tie or coat.” Nothing but them and the few passersby on the sidewalk. He still looked around as they walked further down the sidewalk, idly tugging on Sakuya’s gift, and scanned every dim alley they passed.

Kuro meowed as he laid on Mahiru’s pillow, paws up. “You can always become a shut-in.” Mahiru shook his head emphatically. “That doesn’t fix anything.” “Yeah, but,” he yawned, stretching out and rolling over, “does going out help either?” “I think so.” Mahiru thought it over. “A little bit. It’s just…” Kuro waited patiently for the rest of his thoughts, his tail swishing against the pillowcase. “It feels like the world changed, except it hasn’t.” Mahiru pulled the needle through a tear in one of his shirts. “Things should be simple again.” Kuro hummed, looking at his Eve. He opened his mouth, and then closed it. “It’s not your fault, so don’t try and apologize. I would still have picked you up.” He looped the thread over itself, knotting it, and snipped it with a pair of scissors. “If the world didn’t change, then, simply, I must have.” He smoothed the shirt out over his lap, the stitches almost invisible to the naked eye.

Mahiru’s eyes snapped open. He stared at the dark ceiling of his bedroom, waiting for his vision to adjust as he gasped for breath after breath. “Mahiru?” Kuro’s sleepy voice came from nearby. He steadied his breathing. “I’m okay.” “Mmm…” Tiny paws touched his shoulder and Mahiru felt Kuro curl against the crook of his neck. “It’s alright if you wake me up. Sometimes.” The words caught in Mahiru’s throat for a second and he swallowed, blinking rapidly. “Thanks, Kuro.” He closed his eyes, and after an eternity, the sound of his servamp’s dozing lulled him to sleep.

Maybe the morning would be easier; the sun would remind him that it was over now. All he had to worry about was his project and buying the game Kuro wanted. But he knew when he woke up, the heavy feeling in his bones would still be there and his eyes would chase shadows. He would trudge to school and sit in class, feeling like a misplaced brushstroke on an otherwise flawless painting. Something had changed about Mahiru.

[goldfinwrites]

Xani rolled over, wincing as their elbow slammed against the wood floor, before staring blankly at the ceiling. Kay was sleeping on their bed, and they could hear him breathing irregularly. Another nightmare, they figured, and felt an uncomfortable numbness instead of worry. They cared about Kay, Xani reminded themself, and got up as he let out a sharp gasp.

“Hey, Kay…” Xani shook his shoulder, trying to wake him up.

He groaned, still asleep.

“Kay…” Xani whispered louder, trying again.

He jerked away, bolting upright, panting. “Don’t…”

“Kay, it’s me. It’s okay.”

“Xani…?” His voice was still drowsy, but he calmed down. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?’

“No, I couldn’t sleep. Another nightmare?”

“Mmm.” He nodded, placing his hand over Xani’s, which was still on his shoulder. “Sorry for making you wake me.”

“It’s alright.” Xani held his hand gently and shifted to sit on the bed next to him. “Did you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really.”

“Okay.” Xani mentally fished around for something else to say. “Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?”

“In a little bit. For now, can you just talk?”

“About what?”

“Yourself! Maybe a story from when you were little?”

Xani hesitated, but gave in to Kay’s smile, dimly visible under the scattered moonlight. They started to share a memory from when Lana had taken them to the library. They had wanted a specific movie, one a classmate had talked about at school, and she was happy to indulge them. The movie wasn’t available, but Lana had helped them find another one. She had gone all out to set up a movie night, making popcorn and buying pizza.

Xani paused, unsure of how to continue, and felt Kay squeeze their hand.

“My, um, mom had come home before the movie ended. So we ended up watching it all together, the three of us.” The sentences felt like unspooling a tangled ball of yarn. “And I fell asleep before the credits, so her and Lana had to pick everything up.”

Kay waited until Xani was finished. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah.”

An uncomfortable pause.

“Uh, ready for bed again?” The words sounded thin and hollow.

“Well…” Kay trailed off, then shifted over. “Um, if it’s not a problem, could you stay? Like just sleep here?”

Xani froze, then forced their mouth to move. “S- Okay. If that would help.” Their heart beat wildly inside their ribcage and they swallowed, feeling mild nausea rolling in their stomach. They needed to be there for him, even if he had gotten way clingier recently in a way that made their skin itch.

“Thanks. I’m… sorry for being such a burden all the time.”

Xani’s throat felt clogged. “You’re not a burden.” They were lying, but didn’t know how else to phrase the jumble of thoughts that buzzed in their head.  

They crawled in next to Kay, ignoring how uncomfortably warm the bed was. The covers moved with every rise and fall of his chest and the edges of his hair tickled their own. “Better?”

Kay hummed, quietly. “Yeah, thanks. And sorry. Again.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” It’s my fault. Not yours.

“S- yeah.” Kay rolled onto his side. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

Xani stared at the ceiling again, trying to make sense of the man next to them. He had been a burden, but they knew agreeing with him would only make him upset. Him being a burden wasn’t as bad as he seemed to think it was, really. Especially because they wanted him back, had wanted him back badly enough to erase, destroy, kill, murder Clive and Jasper to do it. No matter how much trouble Kay put them through, they couldn’t leave him alone. He was suffering because of their selfishness.

Their heart had sunk to the base of their stomach. Did they make the right choice? They cared about Kay, enough that it hurt, but was forcing him to be like this, lost and aching, worth it? With or without his memory, Kay was still Kay, they had decided. But the way he stuck to them, only wanting the same things they did, trying to mold himself to them, carved an ugly scar into their chest. They wanted Kay, not a sycophant suppressing his personality to please them.

Neither of them were happy with this sick compromise from that stupid, lying goddess. But Xani knew how to take accountability for their decisions, so they would stay with Kay as long as he wanted them. The way he attached himself to them, whining when they left even for a minute, made them uncomfortable, but they knew he was desperately seeking solace in the only person that linked the conglomeration of identities inside of him.

Even when Gray had insisted on the daily calls, they knew even if Jasper reappeared to hurt them, they wouldn’t pry themselves away from Kay. They refused to tell either their father or Kay, though, knowing both would get angry and argue about their lack of self-preservation. Would it not be their penitence to suffer as Kay is, though, for selfishly wishing him back, even if they didn’t know the full cost?

Kay had fallen asleep, so Xani sat up and looked at him. He was curled up towards the wall, his small frame unwound from the earlier tension. They reached out, gently placing a hand on his head.

“I’m so sorry, Kay.” Xani whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear them. “I’m so unbelievably sorry.”

They withdrew their hand, their breath coming in short breaths as their body shook. Tears threatened to spill out the corners of their eyes, but they dug their nails into their palm. Xani refused to cry, especially not near Kay, who needed them to be strong, at least for now, until he pieced himself back together. Pressing their jaw shut, they inhaled and exhaled slowly through their nose until their vision cleared.

Whatever combination of Kay, Clive, and Jasper that the man next to them stitched himself into, Xani knew they would care about him until their heart stopped. They had tried to let him know it was okay to not try and replace the past version of Kay, to be his own Kay, but couldn’t find the words to convince him that they would still love the person he wanted to be.

This was temporary, and Xani gripped that thought tightly enough to make themself bleed. Gray and Lana could find a good therapist for him. Everything would be okay. Kay would be okay. All they needed to do was hold everything in place until then.

“Everything will be okay.” They spoke quietly into the darkness of their room before laying back down. They closed their eyes. “I’ll make everything okay.”

[goldfinwrites]

The smoke curled around Watanuki’s face as he hung up the phone. Doumeki and Himawari had made their happiness and it was enough. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly from the- his cigarette holder. It had to be enough. He tipped his head back, blowing the new cloud of smoke towards the ceiling.

His heart still felt leaden sometimes from hearing their voices. He walked back towards the main room, tossing his body onto the couch and pillows. He knew they pictured him from high school, but his face hadn’t changed. He looked nearly identical to the photo from his yearbook. His yearbook had a photo of the three eating lunch, and he felt his chest closing in on itself thinking about the image of them sitting on a blanket, Doumeki stealing one of Watanuki’s carefully-made spring rolls while Himawari smiled at them.

Himawari had gotten his interest with her gentle personality, a difference from his awkward and dramatic nature. Watanuki could play her voice in his head on command, mediating patiently as he bickered with or whined about Doumeki. He loved Himawari. He remembered how she wept when he confessed, overjoyed at being able to be loved. However, life moves on, and he had received pictures of her wedding, unable to attend in person, and kept them framed near his telephone. He had cried for the first time in years, both from joy and grief, eventually calling Doumeki when his tears ran dry.

Even when he had straddled the boundary between the supernatural and normal worlds, Doumeki had followed him, hand holding hand, keeping him steady. He was always reliable and firm, but Watanuki had learned to read the subtleties of his stoic expression. He loved Doumeki. He remembered when Doumeki had confessed, his flat voice hiding a slight wobble, and Watanuki had thought his heart would stop. Unfortunately, the wheel of fortune turned, and Doumeki’s wife became a familiar face. He still saw Doumeki, needing a liaison to the rest of the world, but there was always a bubble in the back of his throat, full of words he couldn’t let out.

Watanuki ignored the familiar dull ache of his heart as he dwelled on them. He remembered Himawari in sound, in the way she answered the phone, and in the way she eventually said goodbye. He remembered Doumeki in touch, in the way he ran his thumb across Watanuki’s cheek, and in the way he hugged for the last time before taking a step back. He wondered how they remembered him, ageless and strange.

He poured a serving of sake, then set it across from him on the table before preparing his own. Leaving one out for Yuuko had become habitual, but he didn’t know when it started. He drank, mourning before the guilt set in. He had known when he took the shop that Himawari and Doumeki would be unable to stay with him, and in his selfishness had still wanted them. And they had stuck with him for as long as they could, even now staying as solid fixtures for his vague existence. He poured another serving. He loved them, and they had loved him back once, and that had to be enough.

[goldfinwrites]

Tatsumi gulped down water from the bottle he had packed, sitting on the bench of the practice room. His knee ached, but he was only taking a short rest between hours of working through the choreography. He massaged his leg before standing up and stretching.

The dance had several spins, which made Tatsumi frown, as turning quickly was still difficult for him. He had asked Rinne to take into consideration his mobility, but as expected of their selfish leader, Rinne had barged on ahead with no regard for his unitmates. He rolled his eyes as he gently wiggled his foot. He didn’t regret joining Crazy:B (most of the time), but it was exhausting keeping up with the other members. Niki, despite his lack of interest, excelled on stage and Kohaku managed to perfect the songs quickly. Even Rinne worked hard beneath his cavalier demeanor.

He started the music, playing it from the weak speaker in his phone. Kohaku had mocked it while showing him how to download the song, and Tatsumi wondered briefly if he should upgrade, but decided against it. The phone did what he needed.

The blaring synth was interrupted by his ringtone, causing him to stagger. He checked the name and answered. “Hey, Dad.” His father sounded a bit tired, but still as gentle as always. “Hello. I’m just checking in on how you’re doing.” Tatsumi wiped his face with his towel. “I’m fine. I was wrapping up before heading back to the dorm.” “That’s good.” Tatsumi could hear the smile in his dad’s voice. “Listen, if you ever have some down time, feel free to stop by the church. I’m sure people would be delighted to see you.” A deceptively soft laugh crept out his tight throat. “Unfortunately, I’ve been very busy, but if I can ever get the chance, I’ll try to visit.” His heart slammed against his ribcage as he forced the words to sound upbeat. The rest of the conversation was a vague blur as Tatsumi felt the guilt of lying tying knots in his stomach. When the call finally ended, he immediately knelt and choked out the beginning of prayer. He rushed through an Our Father, and as ‘Amen’ left his lips, the air in his lungs seemed to return. He shivered as he gasped for air, hands still clasped together. After an eternity, he stood up, almost collapsing as his knee briefly gave out from locking in place.

He picked up his phone, finished his water, and began weakly stretching before stumbling towards the dorm. Rinne must have chosen to crash at Niki’s place, since Tatsumi arrived to nobody inside, and he robotically gave thanks to God. He didn’t have to worry about Rinne commenting on how long he took to shower, so he could scrub away his sins under scalding water.

He dreamt that night about the hospital, of waking up after surgery to see his knee wrapped rightly. He wept that day, hard enough to hollow out his insides, as he felt his dream and future slip away. There was a very real chance he could never step on stage again, never see his dear fans waving lights, never hear his voice projected as he danced, exhilarated. He grieved that day, knowing that even if he recovered, he could never perform with his unit again.

Physical therapy left him sore. All the time. He laid in his hospital bed, leg trembling from the walk down the hallway, and he closed his eyes, feeling frustration bubble under his skin. The cross necklace he was given by his father, the one he usually wore, was gripped in his fist, the ends pressing painfully into the meat of his palm. When he went to bed, he tossed it on the nightstand and covered it with a bouquet someone had left instead of placing it neatly under his pillow.

“You look terrible.” Kohaku sat on the bench, already in athletic wear. “But you’re on time.” Tatsumi laughed mildly. “Niki said he would be late today. Apparently, there were more people than normal during the lunch rush.” “Rinne’s incapable of using alarms, so he’s probably going to be late too.” “Which leaves us here.” Tatsumi set his bag down and began his normal stretches. “Were you planning to start on time or waiting until they got here?” Kohaku shrugged. “I was going to wait. You booked extra time so it’s not a big deal if we run over.”

Tatsumi had drilled each move, every cue in the song, and he took extra care to make sure he was in good shape for practice. His diligence had paid off, as his body ran smoothly with muscle memory. Though he could perform individually, he knew the unit’s synchronicity left much to be desired. “You should probably let him go, Rinne…” Tatsumi’s trademark nervous smile graced his face. “I’m just giving him a hug! A special one!” Rinne’s arm held a struggling Niki firmly in a headlock. Niki’s hands pushed and pulled uselessly. “My own unit leader is going to kill me! Hey! Help!” “You gotta switch with the music!” Rinne continued over the shouts. “That’s when the spotlight comes on, so you need to be in the right spot!” “You can lecture him without asphyxiation…” Tatsumi began to pry at Rinne’s grip. Rinne let Niki go, holding his hands up. “I’m the one in the center so I can’t trip over you!” Niki clung to Tatsumi, whining, ignoring Rinne entirely. “I just wanna cook! Let me quit! I don’t want to work with this guy!” Tatsumi’s ears were ringing, but he waved his hands slowly. “Now, now…”

Rinne walked with Tatsumi to the dorm, chatting about his last trip to the pachinko parlor. His laugh echoed as he slung his arm over Tatsumi’s shoulders, and Tatsumi resisted the urge to shrug him off. “…so then, since I’m on this streak…” The door swung open and they walked in. Rinne’s arm slipped off as he threw himself onto one of the upper bunks. “…it’s been three rounds already and he’s just been losing…” Tatsumi set his stuff down on the bottom bunk opposite Rinne’s chosen bed. He was waiting for a pause so he could take his leave to shower, but Rinne showed no sign of slowing down. “…pissed off as hell, right? It’s hilarious and I…” Nodding politely, he conspicuously rummaged through his things, grabbing pajamas and a towel. He saw the silver chain of a necklace and shoved it back under his socks. Hopefully this story was ending soon. “…chugged it! Kyahaha ✰!” “I have to go shower.” Tatsumi held up his clothes, as if proof were needed. He smiled apologetically and quickly walked into the bathroom, not wanting to give Rinne the opportunity to shout through the door.

Tatsumi collapsed into his mattress, ignoring Rinne’s snores. He was utterly exhausted and fell asleep almost instantly.

The day he was discharged, he hopped on crutches to his father’s car. They headed to the church, his parents’ home, and Tatsumi ignored the uncomfortable itch under his skin as they walked past the sanctuary. His old bedroom had been put back together and he saw untouched boxes sitting against the wall. Someone, probably one of his old unitmates, had packed up his stuff from the dorm. Tatsumi grabbed a spare sheet from his closet and tossed it over the boxes.

The lights were off, since it was well past midnight, but his computer screen lit up enough off his room to see. Tatsumi was looking at old videos of his unit again, even though he had seen them enough to watch them if he closed his eyes. He felt nauseated, but compelled to hit replay, and the song ran through his wired headphones. His breath came out shallowly as angry words and complaints clogged his throat. The version of him on the screen pointed at the audience with a wide grin. Tatsumi swallowed the desire to break his computer and felt the urge fall into a dark pool at the bottom of his stomach. The music ran out and he clicked replay again.

Despite how much he applied himself to his practice, he never seemed to get anywhere. COSPRO felt cold and empty, but he kept wondering if he was externalizing his own lack of ambition. He had applied to try and taste the joy being on stage used to bring, but there no longer anything there. There was a void inside of him that had started growing the day his knee broke and maybe one day it would consume him entirely. He stared across the park from the bench. A shadow fell over him and he looked up at a red-haired man with a wild grin. “Yo! Rumor has it we’ll be in the same unit!”

Tatsumi adjusted his costume one last time, then closed his eyes to pray. The words ran through his mind on autopilot, filling his mouth with the taste of acid, but he felt his shoulders relax anyway. Crazy:B was what he had agreed to and wanted deep down. Rinne, as egocentric and greedy as he was, would help him stand beneath the spotlights again and give the yawning hole inside his soul meaning.

UNDEAD’s performance was running smoothly as Tatsumi ran out, his unit scattering immediately. As he admired Rinne goading the audience, he knew Crazy:B would eventually dye their hands and paint stages with the industry’s blood. The familiar electronic beat hummed under his feet and the lights flashed around him. Niki cheered somewhere on the other side of the stage. How many Hail Marys would it take to go for him to sleep tonight?

[goldfinwrites]

About The Author

he/xe, 22

goldfin on ao3

i do take requests, though i will exercise my right to refuse

hard limits: RPF, mpreg

literally AMA that’s what the inbox is for

goldfinwriting - general writing tag

about the author - non-writing tag

original - no fandom/original work tag

MASTERLIST (below):

SERVAMP

Mahiru Goes Back to School 1 2

Sanctimony (Jeje)

xxxHoLiC

Crazy:B Tatsumi

ENSEMBLE STARS

Cold is the Night (Kay Jamison)

On Immortality and Love (Watanuki Kimihiro)

HEART FRAGMENT