Why can't there be any Aidou/OC that doesn't involve a beautiful girl with a tragic back story? Or any OC story?

Repeat this with me:

There will be no tragic back story. There will be no tragic back story. Therewillbenotragicbackstory. Sure they're fun to write and the majority of my stories contain a level of angst but there is so much freaking types of OCs in the VK fanbase where it's all death death death orphan orphan orphan and I just thought...hey. Let's do this. Let's write a light OC story that isn't a comedy.

So thank you for clicking on this, and I hope you enjoy!

Oh, and disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Knight or any Vampire Knight characters. OC and family belongs to me.

"And the top student for Advanced Functions is...student 964," Sagawa-sensei announced at a failed attempt of hiding the student's identity. And perhaps it would have worked if the number 964 hadn't been called out several times that night, and would have worked if it wasn't all too obvious who it was: Aidou Hanabusa.

The aristocrat blond vampire yawned, rubbing his eyes as he kicked his long legs on the table. The man in front of the multi-levelled classroom continued to drone on as the rest of the students leisurely sprawled out about the class. Hanabusa turned to his cousin. "Yo."

The spoken-to man didn't move. His face was hidden behind a book that lay flat over to hide the fact that he had been half asleep for the majority of the class but being so close to him for seventeen years, Hanabusa knew that he heard him. "Do you wanna —"

Suddenly he stopped. He straightened up and his cobalt eyes focused on the forest shown outside the window. Somewhere, someone was bleeding.

CHAPTER ONE

Stargazer

I was bleeding.

I couldn't tell by sight, of course, but I was bleeding. I felt the pain. I felt the wind over my palm and invasion of my senses. I shivered. Even without being able to see it, the wound felt bad. Exposed. And with my horrible sight considered, the feeling of something spread over my hand made me nauseated. I mean, I couldn't tell it was blood — except for the fact that it was denser than sweat and a slightly darker shade — by the common indicator which was a red liquid because I didn't know what that was.

Yep. I didn't know red. But that was redundant when you're an Achromatic. A dog could see more colour than me. My world was in black and white and even in this darkness, my vision was fine — but when light arrived with the morning, everything was blurred beyond belief.

I sighed and touched the palm. The wet feeling grew and I started to panic. I should go somewhere — to the nurse, perhaps, but I couldn't. It would be embarrassing. And I was one of those people, those introverts, I suppose, that shied away social gatherings. And yes, nurse offices were too much. I didn't want to bother her. She'd probably just give me a bandage and send me away as over dramatic. I didn't want that.

Perhaps being at Cross Academy wasn't the best school for me, but there wasn't much options in Japan for the colour-blind. Any public school would ridicule me, and this was the only place that didn't have a colouring-focused curriculum for children. And as the years grew, I continued to stay here...hidden. I didn't think I've ever had a conversation with anyone here — with the high-pitch girls, with the incredibly fit and thin, or the willowy shape, or the curvy or statuesque...

My world was also full of adjectives. I couldn't describe anyone as blonde or brunette because how the hell was I supposed to tell? Unless I referred to someone as "oh hey your hair is a lighter shade of gray!' but that again, just didn't quite cut it.

Where were the prefects? I saw them around — the short girl, and the taller guy. He, I remembered. His hair was practically white with eyes to match. "Hello?" I called out into comforting darkness of the forest. "Hello! Anybody here? Injured person!" Usually I wasn't the shouting type but they would be coming to me and I was starting to panic. I could feel the opening in my palm, and the flesh beneath that was revealed. I tried to think of the shows I watched and the books I read and perhaps I should rip a strip of —

I was looking around for something to cover up my wound to at least stop the feeling of ripped open flesh but as I turned around, I heard something. "Hello?"

There was a guy in front of me and he looked different. It took me a second to realize why: his uniform were shades lighter than my own. I was pretty sure that meant he was a Night Class student. I had previously tried to enter that class because wouldn't that be so much easier? I wouldn't have to wear sunglasses or red central lenses — I could just walk around in the non-painful dark! But I was shot down. And laughed at. Headmaster Kaien actually looked at me and laughed and danced away from my parents and I. If having hemeralopia wasn't a good excuse for enrolling...I didn't know what was.

"Do you mind helping me?" I asked. Despite my self-diagnose of introversion, I could not trust myself to lift my hand from the other and releasing the pressure. I would rather talk. "I'm bleeding."

Something strange was going on because his eyes went down few shades. And trust me, I could pick up changes quite well. I blinked and took a step back and the edge of my telescope tapped against my hips.

"You are, hm?" he repeated and there was a predatory sound in his low voice. He was freaking me out.

"Uh, you know what?" I looked around for someone else. Where were the prefects when you need them? "Never mind." But when I turned around, it was as if he snapped out of a spell. He leaned over me and peered curiously behind me. I nervously — or maybe territorially — touch my telescope. "Can I help you?" Mind the fact that I was the one calling out for help. Then he blinked and his face was wiped clean.

"Stargazing?" he asked and there was a new light tone in his voice, as if he had never done it before. I give him a quick glance and then back down at my hand, and then back at him.

"Um." I didn't quite know how to answer someone beginning a conversation with me that didn't begin with what's that thing in your eye? "Yes." I just wanted to be out in the night and study the stars — to look at the beautiful stars. Everyone saw them the same, saw the bright light against a dark backdrop. But I wasn't going to say any of that. All the thoughts in my mind were filtered out with one-worders. That, and the fact that I really, really wanted something that wasn't my hand to be holding the skin on my palm together.

"Anything in particular?"

My thoughts flew to one direction.

"Would you know if I told you?" I questioned, still pressing on the wound.

A smile played on him. "Try me."

Bring up a topic that I loved, the filter was gone and what came out was a mess. "Well then!" I spun around and expertly adjusted the knob. Pain ignored, I couldn't fight down the smile as I located the constellation I had discovered before I slammed my hand over the wrong bars that scraped the skin off clean. I ignored the stinging as I looked into the finderscope. That grin grew full blown. "See? That's Aquila." I gestured at the stranger to come. He looked surprised of himself and hesitant but he walked over towards me anyway.

As he walked towards me and leaned in close, I was suddenly aware of the situation — that I went from splitting my hand open, to screaming for help, to inviting someone to look at stars with me. But it was something I loved and —

"I don't see anything," he said and you could just hear his eyebrows pull together in frustration. I blinked. He stood up — he was a lot taller than me, I noticed — and I looked back into the telescope. Are you kidding me?

"It's right there!" I insisted and took a step back. He tried again and his expression was so obviously the one of those who thirsted for knowledge, of the ones that couldn't rest until he had the answer. But as his eye met the scope and seconds pass by, he frowned.

"They just look like dots."

"They look like — what?" I stopped and closed my eyes. Oh. My. Lord. I rubbed my eyes and sighed. "If an Achromatic can see it you and you — " I broke off from the sudden burst of confidence when I realized I let it slip. Too many questions I wanted to avoid. But then again, no one really knew what it meant. Right?

Wrong.

"You're colour blind?"

Slow wave. "Hello"

He opened his mouth but when his hand habitually fell, he froze. Then his eyes dropped and he raised his finger. I had to squint my eyes but even then I couldn't tell what made him stop. Then intuition kicked in and I realized he must have touched a stain. Awkward. I tried to step in for damage-control. "Well maybe next time you'll see the stars," I said quickly and shoved myself in the distance from him and my baby. I cared more for getting the telescope out of here with me then I did about the wound on my palm although I was careful to curve my hand so that at least my palm was pressing over the cut. With my left hand, I quickly dismantled what I could but I didn't stop talking. "There's always Orion, that's a lot easier to see...and of course the Dippers, and other planets...Maybe even a meteorite. Shooting star. Whatever rocks your boat. Next time."

Record time, injury aside. I snapped everything shut in my case and stood up. I beamed to outdo my nervousness, curled my fingers over my palm to cover the cut and it looked like he was trying very hard to restrain himself. My smile widened. Again. Nervousness. I tended to that without thinking.

"Yeah," he said quietly. So rarely have I ever met guys who could look so thoughtful. Then again, this was from the girl that men talked to when they were assigned projects with, not because of actual interest. It wasn't like I was ugly, but I couldn't stare into their eyes and compare them to the sky to boost their ego — because the sky is gray and so is the rest of the world. Colour-blind just didn't cut it for girlfriend material. Friends, maybe —

"Maybe."

Did he just read my mind?

I blinked and then realized that he was saying maybe to my flimsy and insincere invitation. "Well...it was nice meeting you..." I said slowly, as if it was a question. I strapped what I can over my shoulder and held the case in my hand, examining him one last time. His eyebrows were furrowed, giving him that deep in thought expression yet again. My hand flew up in a mock salute, and I disappeared.

Thanks for reading - and I promise it gets better from this start up. Reviews would be lovely, and criticism is encouraged :)