Aidou was not some pathetic creature to hold his head low for very long, and by the time brunch rolled around, he filed into the cafeteria, noncommittal.
He couldn’t be held back. He was a vampire. These, too, were truths, very simple ones that didn’t usually need remarking upon. He reflected on them as he took a helping of everything from the cafeteria line. Yes, he was still an aristocrat no matter what was done to him. He wasn’t completely powerless: he retained his quick mind, and a portion of his physical prowess. Youthfulness perhaps wasn’t his greatest asset, he thought, in comparison to the greater strength and experience of older vampires. But his time in Cross Academy--that had served him. He felt he did have some experience navigating the waters of non-vampires, and that navigation had become more important than he’d believed, when he’d first arrived at the hospital.
What was standing in his way was not totally himself, but Landel’s seemingly impenetrable wall of intrigue and circular trials.
And then, sitting in the chapel, he had thought of Kaname-sama, and even the most confounding of the Head Doctor’s hardships seemed full of chinks. Aidou had vastly more significant affairs to devote himself to over this nonsense, and was hence reminded that he was inevitably going to free himself or die in the attempt. Simple truths. He hadn’t so much forgotten these things in the last week or so as perhaps let them slip too far from his thoughts. Well, he knew his priorities, and a string of failures wasn’t going to change them. Defeat might keep him grounded, but defeatism was idiotic.
That was debatably why he had started thinking about different avenues to try on his way downstairs, starting with the red-eyed female he’d met in the library a week before. If he took a step back from everything and looked at the big picture, the risks involved with associating with certain people were worth it if he got somewhere. He had to wonder: would another kind of vampire have thought that way sooner than him, or later? Huh…
One of everything equated to a fairly large helping of food, and the noble had to make room for it in a spot out of the way of most of the windows. Real food would have to come later. And then there was his journal, which he had collected in between checking up on the bulletin board. He put that in front of him and arranged his food around it so that he could write if he wanted. Even physically revisiting the facts and adding new ones to his handwritten notes could change something, bring to the forefront a connection he hadn’t made before. Right? Why the hell not. He’d be open to the possibility.
no subject
Aidou was not some pathetic creature to hold his head low for very long, and by the time brunch rolled around, he filed into the cafeteria, noncommittal.
He couldn’t be held back. He was a vampire. These, too, were truths, very simple ones that didn’t usually need remarking upon. He reflected on them as he took a helping of everything from the cafeteria line. Yes, he was still an aristocrat no matter what was done to him. He wasn’t completely powerless: he retained his quick mind, and a portion of his physical prowess. Youthfulness perhaps wasn’t his greatest asset, he thought, in comparison to the greater strength and experience of older vampires. But his time in Cross Academy--that had served him. He felt he did have some experience navigating the waters of non-vampires, and that navigation had become more important than he’d believed, when he’d first arrived at the hospital.
What was standing in his way was not totally himself, but Landel’s seemingly impenetrable wall of intrigue and circular trials.
And then, sitting in the chapel, he had thought of Kaname-sama, and even the most confounding of the Head Doctor’s hardships seemed full of chinks. Aidou had vastly more significant affairs to devote himself to over this nonsense, and was hence reminded that he was inevitably going to free himself or die in the attempt. Simple truths. He hadn’t so much forgotten these things in the last week or so as perhaps let them slip too far from his thoughts. Well, he knew his priorities, and a string of failures wasn’t going to change them. Defeat might keep him grounded, but defeatism was idiotic.
That was debatably why he had started thinking about different avenues to try on his way downstairs, starting with the red-eyed female he’d met in the library a week before. If he took a step back from everything and looked at the big picture, the risks involved with associating with certain people were worth it if he got somewhere. He had to wonder: would another kind of vampire have thought that way sooner than him, or later? Huh…
One of everything equated to a fairly large helping of food, and the noble had to make room for it in a spot out of the way of most of the windows. Real food would have to come later. And then there was his journal, which he had collected in between checking up on the bulletin board. He put that in front of him and arranged his food around it so that he could write if he wanted. Even physically revisiting the facts and adding new ones to his handwritten notes could change something, bring to the forefront a connection he hadn’t made before. Right? Why the hell not. He’d be open to the possibility.