"What a pity. What happened to the cute little Aoba-kun of my childhood?"
Aoba picked Koujaku’s pillow off his bed and threw it at his face. Koujaku easily caught it and laughed at Aoba’s sour expression.
"Give me a break, will you? I’m still in shock over how much you’ve changed over the years. You were still a whole foot shorter than me the last time I saw you."
"Not just me. You’ve changed a lot too." Aoba smiled, the conversation rekindling his childhood memories. It really was nice to have a companion in this strange, new place. Koujaku took notice of his expression and tilted his head in curiosity.
"What’s up? Are you really that happy to see me?"
Despite Koujaku’s teasing tone, Aoba answered honestly. “I am, actually. If you think about it, we’re really lucky to have ended up at this university together. When you moved to the city four years ago, I really thought I’d never see you again."
For a split-second, a conflicted expression flashed across Koujaku’s face before quickly smoothing out into his usual easygoing countenance. “It is pretty lucky, isn’t it? And we even ended up in the same dorm building."
"I think Mizuki pulled some strings. He said he even managed to switch places with someone so that he could be the RA of my hall."
"It pays to have powerful friends," Koujaku mused. “Have you met your roommate yet?"
"No. The room was empty when grandma and I arrived."
"Are you nervous about meeting him?"
"A little, I guess."
"Yeah, I suppose I’m a little nervous about meeting my last roommate too. I wasn’t worried before, but after meeting Mink, I’m hoping this other one will at least be a little more sociable… You know, I really wish the two of us could’ve roomed together instead. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about getting comfortable around each other. Hell, we could’ve even kept your dog in secret!" Aoba made a face, but Koujaku did not seem to notice. “I can tell how attached you’ve already grown to the little guy. It’s too bad you won’t be able to see him much while he’s still young."
Aoba suddenly broke eye contact. His gazed down at the floor guiltily. “Uhh, about that…"
Koujaku’s eyes narrowed. “Aoba… don’t tell me…"
Shame-faced, Aoba reached for his pack, lifting it carefully onto the bed. He opened the main pocket and reached in, retrieving a fluffy living lump of black fur. The puppy wagged its tail in excitement, desperate for acknowledgment after being confined to the bag. Upon catching sight of Koujaku, he barked happily.
"Shh, Ren! You have to stay quiet here!"
Ren hopped off of Aoba’s lap, stretched, and made himself comfortable on Koujaku’s blankets. Koujaku glanced at the dog, then back at Aoba, the disapproval clear on his face.
"This is surprisingly reckless of you."
"If my roommate doesn’t like him, I’ll just call grandma and ask her to pick him up next weekend."
"Does Mizuki know?"
"Yes. And he’s agreed to cover for me—to a certain extent. As long as Ren behaves himself, it should be fine."
"…Well, as long as you know the risks." Koujaku seemed dubious, but he still decided to drop the topic. “Anyway, I heard that the deli a couple blocks down from here has really good Italian-style subs. Wanna check it out before heading to the orientation ceremony?"
Aoba immediately brightened up. “Sure!" He lifted Ren off of the sheets. The puppy whined and struggled a bit before reluctantly allowing himself to be lowered back into the bag.
"Behave yourself, okay?" Aoba said, peeking at Ren through the hole he left at the top of the bag. He reached in and patted Ren on the head before gently shouldering the bag and heading out.
—————
It was already dark by the time they returned to the dorms. The speeches delivered throughout the orientation ceremony consisted largely of forgettable platitudes about the value of education and how students will one day pave the future of society. The only part Aoba could clearly recall was when the university president, a bespectacled and respectable-looking man who shared the same name as the university, stepped up to the podium. The actual content of his speech was standard fare, but something about the way the man talked kept Aoba’s rapt attention. Aoba wondered if he had the same effect on people whenever he gave speeches.
A yawn from Koujaku pulled Aoba out of his thoughts. “I’m already pretty tired. I wish I could take a nap, but we all have our hall meetings soon."
"I almost forgot about that. I haven’t even met my roommate yet, much less everyone else in my hall."
"Your roommate must’ve arrived by now," Koujaku commented as they stepped into the dorm lobby. “You should head back and check."
Aoba nodded in agreement and started towards the elevator. Before he could get far, Koujaku called out from behind him, “Hey, Aoba! I heard from someone down my hall that there’s a party tonight at the Flaming Willow. I was thinking of checking it out. Wanna come with?"
Aoba hesitated. He hadn’t been planning on partying that night, and if he was completely honest with himself, he was a little anxious at the prospect.
Koujaku seemed to sense his reluctance. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. There’ll be plenty of other parties anyway."
After another moment’s consideration, Aoba answered, “No, I’ll go with you. I can’t promise I’ll stay though."
"Well, it’ll probably end up being just a bunch of freshmen awkwardly getting drunk together, so I probably won’t stay either," Koujaku said with a grin. “I’ll drop by your room before I head out."
"Okay. It’s 2201!" Aoba heard the elevator door in front of him open, accompanied by a sharp ‘ding!’ Aoba waved Koujaku bye as he stepped in. He got off on the second floor and made the short walk to his room. He turned the knob—as expected, the door was unlocked. He took a peek inside, but saw no one else there. His roommate must have stepped out.
He closed the door behind him and looked at the previously unoccupied side of the room. The walls were unadorned and the sheets were plain-colored. The only noteworthy thing was a huge plush doll that sat on the center of his roommate’s bed. Aoba wasn’t entirely sure what the doll was supposed to be of. An octopus?
Before Aoba could contemplate it any further, he heard the door creak open. He cracked a smile in greeting. “Hey, I’m Aoba. Nice to m-" He suddenly froze. Once his roommate got a good look at him, he also froze in place.
"EH??" the two of them exclaimed.
"You…" Aoba said, at a loss for words.
"AOBA-SAN!!" Clear practically flung himself at the other man. “What are you doing here?"
"I live here!" Aoba said with a laugh and a soft “oomph!" when Clear tackled him. This wasn’t at all what he had been expecting, but he was far from displeased.
"Aoba-san is my roommate?"
"It sure looks like it. Clear, you’re squeezing me!"
Clear finally loosened his hold on Aoba. He positively radiated with glee. “I’m so happy to be roommates with Aoba-san! We’ll become even better friends now!"
Aoba could only nod, feeling a little dazed. What a weird coincidence this was. In his state of shock, Aoba barely caught the sound of a muffled whine from his backpack.
"Oh, that’s right! Clear, there’s something I need to ask you." Aoba put his backpack on his lap and opened it. He reached in with both hands and reemerged carrying Ren. Clear’s eyes widened at the sight of him.
"This is my dog, Ren. Pets aren’t technically allowed here, but I talked to our RA and he said he would make an exception for us. He’s only a puppy, but he’s really well-behaved and he doesn’t make a lot of noise. You don’t mind, do you?" Aoba asked with a hopeful lilt in his voice.
To Aoba’s surprise, Ren jumped out of Aoba’s hands and onto the ground near Clear’s feet. He stood on his hind legs, his front paws resting on Clear’s lower legs and his tail wagging excitedly. “Aww," Clear cooed as he stooped down to pick Ren up. “Of course I don’t mind!"
Aoba let out a sigh of relief. Clear laughed as Ren licked his face. “I’ve never had a pet before," Clear said, cradling Ren in his arms, “But I’ve always wanted one. If you want, I could feed Ren and play with him whenever you’re away."
Aoba smiled as Clear continued to cradle Ren, who was surprisingly cooperative. Things seemed like they would work out fine, after all.