The room was deserted when she opened her eyes once again.

 

It was dark, silent, and cold. The AC was still running, though the air no longer felt as cold as she remembered it being last night. The reason for that, she found, was the thick blanket that had been draped over her up to the nose.

 

No wonder she felt no dull aches from sleeping on the cold floor. The blanket was thick enough that she might have sweated if the temperature was anything warmer than the biting freeze.

The want to sink into the warmth of her blanket was tempting and sleep was calling her again with such seductive force. But she had had enough of sleeping which, ironically, she had been desperately craving just two days ago. Time was a-wasting the longer she spent in bed which meant more work left unfinished. 

To her left she noticed a pile of clothes tucked neatly beside her, complete down to underwear and a full set of bathing supplies. Tira got up from her makeshift bed and stretched, making a mental note to add thanking the seniors for their care on her to-do list. 

Just as she was about to stretch once more—her shoulders popping; the dead-end door that she and everyone else had seen Dias disappear into slid open. 

The interior of his mysterious room was revealed once again though unlike last night, was bathed in dim yellow light that crept its way towards her barely chasing away the shadows of the windowless classroom.

 

From within the glow, Dias walked out with a severe case of bed hair, though this time, he was wearing matching black pajamas, no longer looking out of place like he had yesterday, despite his shirt being unbuttoned all the way down to his navel.

 

Seeing that his feet were covered by a set of fluffy slippers, she couldn't help wondering if she was meant to be jealous of his bedtime preparation or feel sorry for the lackluster accommodation the rest of the students wouldn't have a chance to have as far as this apocalypse was going to stretch.

"Good morning..." Dias greeted in a voice an octave lower before he yawned for a good minute. He must have actually slept this time if he was yawning that widely.

 

Tira gave him a nod and emptied her gym uniform pockets and stood. The prospect of having to wash her face with ice-cold water had a better effect than actually having to. Even though the lazy part of her brain was bargaining for her to reconsider, she wasn't about to skip on the chance to occupy the shower room all for herself just because of it.

 

Lately, discipline seemed to be winning over impulse. Which was good, if she could spare a moment to think about it. Unfortunately, Tira's one and only working braincells hadn't woke up yet, so she didn't think much about it.

Decision made, she collected the bathing supplies along with her towel in a rush, hoping that she hadn't missed the window of time the showers were empty when Dias suddenly stopped her, 

"Wait!"

Tira glanced at the man, who looked equally surprised with himself as well, nearly stammering as he continued to speak to her. "There's a bathroom back there complete with a shower, sink and toilet… If you’d like to use it."

 

She stared at him in silence. Her hand rested on the door handle as she tried to make sense of what he was offering.

Dias swerved into a panic and waved his hands. He looked away, "N-No ulterior motives, I swear! It’s just closer than you having to go down five floors..."

 

A contemplative look was all he got as she considered his offer.

 

Well, she had been considering it until he'd assumed she needed to be assured of his motives. Everything seemed to have an ulterior motive with him. She hadn't called him out about it so far; it was almost amusing to see a demigod so flustered.

 

"I won’t peek, I promise!" Dias pleaded. Utterly absurd while still in his sleepwear, but begging looked good on him. 

 

Even though there wasn't much of a difference between showering in his room or downstairs she'd been looking forward to being alone. His offer to explore his room was tempting, almost surprising considering she hadn't known it had existed till last night.

 

 

Even though she couldn't understand his sudden eagerness, giving him the benefit of doubt wasn't too bad of an idea.

 

With a sigh, she gathered her towel and toiletries. Dias' grin was bright enough to compete with the lamp in his room.

He eagerly stepped aside to let her in.

His bedroom was adequate. A large messy bed, a nightstand along with two wall lamps on each side of it. One of them was on and illuminated onto some generic-looking wall paintings on all four sides.

 

On her right, there were two open doors. One on the left of the bed led to what seemed to be a walk-in closet, and the other led to a marbled countertop with a faucet.

 

The sink, she noticed as she moved closer, faced a washing machine across and stood beside a dividing wall where the toilet was. The bathroom seemed much bigger than any other bathrooms she'd been to, a frosty glass stood to the side—probably the shower.

Dias had been following her, naturally. His eyes on her as he stood, unsure, in the bedroom and took the chance to ask Tira's opinion "Good enough?"

 

She nodded again and picked up her toothbrush and tore the toothpaste open with her teeth.

 

The tap was fancy, silver and sparkling but the water wasn't as cold as she wanted it to be. It wouldn't wake her up like she wanted it to. But she freshened up and got into her ablutions.

Dias had disappeared from the reflection of the mirror, the sound of his slippers against the carpeted floor in the music room followed by the door shutting echoed lowly.

She closed the toilet door for good measure and buried her face into the fluffy towel onto her shoulders. Feeling more awake she stepped around the frosted door; fumbled around with the lock before she was satisfied.

There was a bathtub on the other end of the room and another semi-hidden door that led to the walk-in closet she had seen earlier and thankfully, it had a lock on it as well.

 

The room's layout made no sense and given that its very existence was another puzzle to figure out; It was as if the room existed in the gaps within the walls, but even that wouldn't hold up spatially.

 

Unless this was one of Dias' powers?

 

She fiddled with the two knobs and placed her hand under the showerhead. 

 

It took a few minutes for hot to take over cold but it finally did. Steam gathered around her and finally, Tira let the bits of hesitation clinging onto her go as she undressed and finally, let the water and steam wash over her.

 

Immediately, she noticed a difference. Her hair felt easier to clean. The hot water was almost like an antiseptic as it rinsed away alien blood and sweat.

Tira let out a deep sigh of relief as she began to soap up and scrub with all her might.

 

Even though her hair felt better now, the urge to cut it still lingered. She hadn't worn her hair this long for years.

As she dried her hair, she reached out for her clothes, only to find nothing and realized - a little too late - that she had left her change of clothes back in the other room. 

She quickened the pace of her drying and tried to tiptoe without haste lest she slip.

 

Quietly, she unlocked the door and stuck her head out to scout the room. The room was empty. The door leading to it was still closed shut.

 

As she found the courage to step out, the sound of the music room door opening startled her.

 

She took a deep breath of regret and steeled her resolve with a long, heavy sigh.

 

Tiptoeing the rest of the way towards she locked eyes with Dias, who had just returned, pajamas now neatly buttoned to the collar and carefully carrying a plate in each hand. 

Both of which were about to join the paintings on the wall as he quickly turned around and let out a kettle pitched screech.

 

"I DIDN'T MEAN TO- I’M– I-!!!"

 

"It’s not like you haven’t seen it before." She walked over to the beanbag, at a leisurely pace despite how worried she'd been in the first place and crouched to take her clothes.

 

"WHEN HAVE I EVER SEEN YOU NAKED?!" Dias' squeal sounded close to that of a dying mouse.

"When I tried to change out of my dress the first time?" She reminded him of the incident, calmly albeit with a smidge of sarcasm, and made her way back to the bedroom once she managed to carry all her clothes in one hand.

 

Now that she had reminded herself of it, she could have changed into the dress in the first place. But that had taken energy to change back and forth, for Tira, that wasn't worth the trouble.

 

Perhaps Dias had already forgotten of the incident in his panic. It wasn't everyday occurence for a man to be presented with a naked view out of the blue. 

Her figure wasn't exactly flattering either. "Didn’t you laugh in my face about it?"

 

"I SAW NOTHING!"

 

She took notice of his trembling shoulders and finally spotted the red flush on his ears. The silence of her observation perhaps had put pressure on Dias as he continued to defend himself. 

"When you, uh, changed for the first time, I know that there ended up being nothing underneath. BUT I had placed an illusion over you…"

 

Dias placed the plates on the table while still keeping his back to her and his voice turned smaller and quieter. "There were other people there... I wouldn’t want to embarrass you like that, not in front of a crowd..."

 

Huh. She gently put her clothes on the bed and turned around to watch him with double the amount of scrutiny. "And you didn't see through the illusion?"

"I swear I didn't." His answer was confident and stern this time, his long hair swayed softly like silk in the wind as he shook his head. "I… I want you to be able to trust me. Public humiliation doesn't play in that favor, right?"

 

That did make sense. Tira did wonder why the crowd around her hadn’t made a big deal of her after seeing her naked and could still interact with her like how people normally would afterwards.

She had assumed that they were all so traumatized by the sight of violence that everything else had numbed their reactions but their expressions after seeing her face, buf this confession had proved that hypothesis wrong.

 

It was wrong. But was she supposed to be glad that her shame was merely a result of a prank?

 

Too bad she had gotten over her anger too soon yesterday. She could have used some of that murderous rage right now.

 

"I see."

 

She wanted to trust him, just based on his words alone. She really did. Having shown this amount of courtesy should have been enough to convince anyone else.

 

Her mind clamored for her to do something. And so, she did.

 

"I’m dressed now."

 

Dias turned around. But she had lied.

 

His eyes widened in genuine panic and his flush spread like wildfire; it was proof enough that he had not peeked at her before.

"As thanks for not humiliating me in public."

And she dragged the bathroom door closed.

"AAAAAHHHHH!!!"

Tira smiled to herself as she started to change into the spare uniform. His mortified scream passed well through from the other side of the wall and made it all worth it.

 

 

Breakfast happened in stilted silence. Occasionally broken by the sound of cutlery on ceramic or the intercom bell signaling the start of the day for the shift change.

Dias pouted as he watched her eat, not once dropping that harsh glare from her during the entire meal time, nor had he spoken a single word since he exited his room after bathing. Tira kept eating regardless of his displeasure. The food tasted better this morning for some reason.

Rice and egg done, she set her sight on the second plate stacked high, a school cafeteria dish that was made only once in a while and was famously sought-after; egg pancakes. "These are good. Want to try one?"

A fork stabbed into its crunchy skin, it crackled as she offered it to Dias’ lips. The wait was not too long before he opened his mouth to let out a sigh then took a bite.

His hair, still slightly damp, was sprawled messily on top of his black suit; a similar style to the one he had worn yesterday.

 

She wondered if the walk-in closet had multiple copies of the same suits and button-ups. Did he also like the feeling of damp hair in the cold of the morning? Tira mused over her thoughts as she waited for his feedback.

It was only after he swallowed that Dias, still looking at her begrudgingly, spoke. "You’re giving me mixed signals here."

"That was a one-off." She took a bite out of the rest of the pancake and couldn't help but stuff her mouth with another. She had to start visiting the cafeteria a lot earlier from now on. "I’m not interested in sleeping with a stranger, no matter how pretty they are."

The frown on his face slowly turned into an amused smirk and a question, "You think I’m pretty?"

"Yes." 

Tira finished her pancake and reached for another one and watched from the corner of her eye as Dias' smirk turned around, "I’m sorry. For doubting you."

"I'm sorry for the nightmares and the prank as well." Dias replied, with an eloquence and sincerity that she would never possess and that she could easily tell he was lowering his guards for her.

She stabbed into another mini pancake, the crispy skin crunched at the force but remained as perfect as it had from the time he'd brought them breakfast; not a trace of sogginess.

 

She offered the next bite to Dias once more. "Want another one?"

 

"Sure."

They spent the next half hour just eating in silence until a knock sliced it away just as she swallowed her last bite.

 

She stood up to let their guest in. It was Devy, standing on the other side, no longer looking as surprised by Tira's appearance as she had been last night.

 

Whether that was due to them both being properly dressed now or if she had arrived at a conclusion and was sticking with it, Tira couldn't tell though her impassive face was maintained and impressively without any tell.

 

Politely, she greeted the girl and mustered up a neutral mood, "Good morning."

 

"Good morning. I’m just here to inform you that there is a change of plans, and the meeting is going to take place in the auditorium; at eight."

 

"Thank you for letting us know," Dias answered from behind her back, somehow already standing by the door beside her without making a single sound. "Have you had breakfast? It's too early to be awake at this hour, isn't it?"

 

The man kept talking with his arms resting on the frame and his head looming over hers, looking not at all out of place while he kept chatting up a blushing Devy, who seemed to have abandoned her initial intent of going away as soon as she had delivered the message.

 

It was hard to see the man's expression since he was standing behind her and was perhaps a good two heads taller than herself. 

Almost jealous of their height difference or anyone who stood at least a head taller, Tira wished she could shave off some of his height away, perhaps steal away his kneecaps so his height would drop to hers.

Looking up hurt her neck. Looking up to speak for a longer time hurt even more. So she stopped trying and listened closely instead.

 

Devy laughed at a joke Dias was telling her, which was fundamentally funny, though not to her taste and she was already feeling her attention slipping away from boredom. With Dias being in the way, she couldn't even slip back to the table unnoticed, and so decided to let the two keep talking.

 

Since she was trapped anyway, Tira leaned back, closer to Dias' chest behind her. Not nearly close enough to be touching or putting pressure upon each other but they were close enough to feel each other's body heat. The scent of his soap was woodsy, mixed with mint, though… Was it his hair instead? Either way, the scent smelled nice and calming, enough to distract her from the innocuous glances that locked onto her for just a second.

 

She glanced back at Devy. The senior avoided her eyes almost immediately.

 

"Well, is there anything else?" Dias asked with a cheery voice, she could almost hear his smile in it as he leaned even further into her, almost to the point of resting his head on top of hers.

Devy's cheeks immediately flushed red, looking mildly embarrassed and cleared her throat in her panic and glanced away. "Ahem! No! A-Anyway, we’ll see you two there, right?"

 

"Yes."

 

"We’ll be there." She wondered why the girl had to ask again after she had already done so just moments ago.

Instead of answering her unvoiced question, Devy hurriedly said, "See you later!" and rushed to get away all of sudden…

 

And that was when she realized it.

Glancing up, she saw Dias had put some distance between them once again. His lips curved up in an amused smile. "What?"

"Nothing." His mischievous smile was just what she needed to confirm and to prove her hypothesis; once again of the nature of this man. He was almost fun to observe.

Tira ducked under his arms and strolled back into the room, stacked their plates to return them to the cafeteria kitchen on her way when suddenly, she remembered something. 

"Question."

Dias leaned onto the frame of the door fully, the music room door was still open. The light from outside graced sunlight oto his silver freckles making them glitter with a soft glow. "Yes?"

"If I cut my hair–"

"I can do it for you." He immediately offered, as his expression and tone changed to deadly serious. "I’m going to tell you right now, it’s dangerous if you’re not careful about stuff like that."

Tira remembered that Dias had also cut her nails before, right after she had asked about it. And now he was also offering to cut her hair as well? How peculiar. "Explain?"

 

"Are you familiar with witchcraft?" He asked, and after seeing her nod, asked again, "Hexes?"

 

"Oh, I see." She immediately made the connection from his line of questioning. "Where did you banish my nails?"

 

Dias snorted and vaulted off the door frame as he waved his hand in gestures to mock the wind. "It’s now dust in the wind."

 

She wasn't sure if she was meant to be surprised but it almost felt like she had known his answer already. Maybe repeat surprises made you numb at some point, but she chalked this up as another Dias skill on the roster to note.

Her eyes wandered to the clock, still displaying the seventh hour of the day, then she glanced back at him for the last inquiry. "Would one hour be too short?"

 

"I only need a minute." Dias replied bemusedly, rounding the table to stand behind her back again and ran his hands over her hair as he asked, "How long do you want it to be?"

 

She pointed to a height a little higher than it was, right above her jaw, the length before she had decided to grow it out of a whim from wanting a change of pace for highschool. 

Which had worked effectively, a little too much, maybe. But it had been an experience nonetheless.

Tira felt him decomposing the rest of the hair from the bottom, starting from the knee, as he held the rest of it up in his arms. She guessed that he must have done so because her head felt almost a kilogram lighter already. It probably was a kilogram lighter, since her neck had let out a creak of protest once the weight had been lifted off of it. 

 

"Kind of disappointing that there’s no noise when you do this." She mused aloud when she felt the silence had gone on far too long once again.

 

"Hm?"

 

"The sound a scissors makes," Tira elaborated since his hum was clearly of confusion, "the crisp and crackle of hair getting snipped off, sometimes the dryer going in the background… It’s the relaxing part of going to get my haircut at a place. Well, sometimes talking with the barber is nice too, if they're not the gossipy type."

 

She felt that Dias’ hands were now at her waist level, trailing upward as he hummed again, this time in understanding. She could hear his smile from the short rumble, cut too short as it turned into a question. "That does sound nice. Do you always like your hair short?"

 

Catching on as his movement seemed to have slowed down, Tira played along, closing her eyes as though she wasn't standing but instead, properly sitting in a salon chair. "Yeah, it’s harder to be grabbed by your opponent if your hair is short. Easier upkeep too."

 

"Perhaps I should cut mine as well," Dias chuckled, though she couldn't tell if his next whisper was for himself or not, "...not battle friendly, huh?"

 

It became irrelevant to whom those whispers were meant for because she could hear them clearly.

Thus, before her brain could catch up, her mouth said, "If you like it long then keep it. I’m not going to let anyone get close enough to you to grab your hair violently."

 

His hands that had been caressing her hair stilled for some time. Pausing right behind her shoulder blades. Tira opened her eyes and tilted her neck back, facing the man with a complicated expression on his face. "Unless you’re into that kind of stuff?" she asked with exaggerated wiggles of her brows.

 

All thoughts seemed to vanish from those red eyes as a fiery blush decorated his cheeks. He was smiling stupidly at her joke as he let out a soft exhale of breath. "You are a menace. Look straight."

 

"Aye."

Thankfully, her joke managed to diffuse his tense expression and masked her thoughts on whether she had crossed out of bounds with that remark. She would have to make a mental note of this with a bright red pin to tack it with.

Soon after, Dias stepped back. Tracing her hands over the leftover hair convinced her well enough that its length now was exactly what she had asked for, though she still wished she could check for herself.

There were no mirrors in the immediate vicinity, Tira turned around and asked the opinion of the only one around, her so-called barber.

 

"Well?"

 

"Beautiful," Dias gasped, almost as if it was taking out all the air in his lungs to just speak. "You look beautiful."

 

Tira was someone who couldn’t deal with praise well, always took them as meaningless things that she could never tell if they were sincere or just meant as a formality. She usually dealt with them with cold indifference, marginalizing all of them as something she shouldn't care about.

 

But…

 

At least with this, with him, she could tell that his words were honest. And for that, she would express her gratitude with the sincerity it deserved. "Thank you, Dias."

"My pleasure, lovely."