A week had passed by in a steady flow of integration into the duo's new regime. With now having their lessons online, they only spent four hours rather than the six— while on campus.
Moreover, Kaneki had dropped his course for a rather unexpected exchange— Food Production and Nutrition Sciences! When Hide raised an eyebrow to this, Kaneki offered that his previous course (Study in Literature Arts) was of no value to him anymore as he wasn't interested in becoming a novelist or a teacher.
"Besides, it's high time I learned cooking for myself."
This appeased his friend and new partners. On the second day, Mei had come to pick them up as promised. Since Kaneki was closer, he was the first to be shipped, the movers were dumbfounded when they found the state of Kaneki's unit.
It was on the verge of collapse! As if the guy had been swinging a sledgehammer inside the place. Walls were caving in, the wooden floor was splintered and various damages sported the place. Mei raised an inquisitive brow. Kaneki rolled his shoulders, loose and languid.
"Intense workout," he said, as if it explained the cratered walls and shredded flooring. The movers hesitated at the doorway, second-guessing their career choices.
Hide on the other hand, possessed more items to his name unlike his counterpart. His closets were on the verge of throwing up his clothes. Also, he was a collector. Kaneki picked up wooden sculptures of unique designs, glass sculptures of fantasy creatures like unicorns, stones that were actually ores containing some undiscovered metal (unawares to Hide himself, he just picked them on hikes), and twigs and branches from childhood that stirred a memory in Kaneki. All in all, Hide's stuff covered majority of the space in the Movers' truck.
Their new place was situated in the deeper parts of the city, more luxurious to say the least. They met up with Karla who took up the role of a guide, showing them to their new units. The very building they walked into was oppressive and Hide couldn't help but calculate the estimated costs of living in such a place.
They weren't rooms, they were literal suites!
Kaneki's was of a dark theme. Leaning heavily into Gothic authenticity. He turned to Mei and gave her a thumbs up, she had nailed his preference.
Hide's place was quite the opposite, his was of a soft, much warmer theme, sporting intimate colours that complemented his outgoing characteristics. It was a marvelous sight!
Moving on, the duo settled in and their partners officially celebrated their cooperation, this time, they brought in contracts and lawyers. To Kaneki's veiled dislike, Izuku wasn't around during their coming and even throughout the week. Karla had subtly hinted that there was a deadline their resident author was trying to meet.
Karla had later introduced a stern-looking trio; two middle aged women and one man. They were to be their coaches and would drill the required techniques into the two uprising models. They had promised them a hell course.
Silvercloud Hotel; Room 160— 16:30
The room was shrouded in darkness, with the only source of light being a laptop's screen. The curtains had been drawn so as to shut out the rays of the setting sun. The soft sound of breathing resonated within the room, the rhythmic exhale of unperturbed sleep intertwining with the hum of the machine.
There was a click and a door opened, ushering in a silhouette that made a beeline towards the sound.
"Miss Izuku," the man called out, but there wasn't any response. Sighing, he walked over and switched on the lights, flooding the confinement with well deserved illumination.
There was a groan from somewhere withing the rubble of papers, coffee cans and more paperwork but he ignored it and began his mission of organizing the place first, he disliked untidiness.
Twenty minutes later, Izuku stirred awake, rubbing her tired eyes, she glanced around and found the room more habitable.
"Well now, a good morning to you, miss," the familiar voice stirred a yawn out of her.
"Good morning, Kenichi," his brow twitched at her aloofness.
Izuku's appearance was rather rugged, the final form of a sleep-deprived worker that had pulled countless all-nighter to reach a deadline. Her hair was all over the place and her eyes were heavy with dark bags.
Kenichi picked up a folder of clipped papers, he skimmed through and commented.
"I see you've been quite busy."
Izuku grumbled, that was an understatement. Then, as if remembering something urgent, she jerked into a straighter posture and began to rummage through the neat paperwork, much to Kenichi's displeasure. He had literally just cleaned up the place!
"Are you looking for these?" Kenichi held up a stack, "Already started up on another story, huh? Also, you can draw?" He flips through some pages, he never would've thought that his writer could draw as well. Talk about multi-talented! "These are some decent strokes. Who is this? One of the characters in the new book?" Izuku reached out to snatch the folder and Kenichi didn't put up a fight.
"Erm, yes." She didn't offer any further explanation and Kenichi sighed.
He strode over to the kitchenette and got himself a drink.
"Are you already done with the first volume as agreed?" He called out.
"Yes."
"Good, now then, you have a week and a half of vacation before you start the next volume, I came to pick up the scripts and—" Kenichi began, as one of her designated editors, he was keen on ensuring Izuku didn't miss out on a deadline, she had a rather enthusiastic audience, and her last book had sold out unexpectedly. The readers were hooked, and were starving for more.
He filled her in on her new routine, highlighting adjustments to her deadlines and fan engagement schedules. Mid-conversation, something snagged the corner of his vision.
Izuku, in her half-awake haze, was slyly sliding the folder — the one he'd thumbed through earlier — beneath a thick stack of bland paperwork. She moved quickly, but not quickly enough.
Kenichi allowed a slow smirk to creep up his face.
'So she does care about it after all.'
"You know," he drawled lazily, swirling the drink in his hand, "if you ever decide to publish whatever secret project you're hoarding there, I expect a signed first edition."
Izuku stiffened for a fraction of a second before mumbling something incoherent. She didn't meet his gaze.
Kenichi chuckled under his breath and leaned back against the kitchenette counter, choosing to let it slide. For now.
After all, even the best creators deserved a few secrets to call their own.