Sporting a crimson sash, Jean, a third-year student, clad in his school uniform, walks along the unchanging hall of the university's grand dormitory. As he strides forward with resolute paces, the surrounding lamps shed a pale glow upon his sandy hair. His fair, lightly tanned skin glistens like the grains of a firm but smooth barley on a sunlit field, complementing his captivating eyes that gleam like the bark of a tree.

     Turning to his left, Jean reaches the doorway to his dorm, his hand grasping the doorknob. With a swift yet gentle push, he opens the door and enters the chamber. Inside, he approaches a tall wooden bookshelf containing books and tomes. And there, he stands and returns three thick books to the shelf, arranging them neatly with the others.

     With a swift and precise hand, Jean grabs a thin book from the shelf and carries it in his arm. He then turns from the wooden bookshelf and strides towards the doorway of his dorm, poised to leave the room. However, as Jean crosses the threshold, his ears perk up and catch a faint, muffled sound of rustling, causing his steps to falter.

     Curious, Jean comes to an unexpected halt and returns to the dorm. Slowly and steadily, Jean passes through the doorway and walks towards the centre of the room. Knitting his brows, Jean focuses on the faint sound of rustling and groaning metal, the noise gradually building up. Suddenly, the sound of screeching steel reverberates above Jean, prompting his eyes to soar towards the ceiling.

     Above Jean, a boy, alongside a grille, plummets from a vent hole, his gasp echoing across the dorm. With a resounding crash, the boy falls on the cold floor, his impact hindered by the soft carpet underneath. Jean's eyes widen as he witnesses the boy falling. Quickly, he steps aside and narrowly avoids being crushed by the boy's weight.

     Rising from the floor with trembling knees, the boy faces Jean with a shaky smile. The boy's skin possesses the glint of wheat under the sunlight, harmonizing with his deep, brown eyes. His hair is like the horizon during the sunset, gleaming with a fiery glow. Beside his left eye, a beauty mark commands attention, adding a hint of allure to his youthful appearance.

     Like any boy inside the campus, the boy dons a black tailcoat, matching his trousers and leather shoes. Around his waist, a red sash shines, conspicuously displaying his grade level as a third-year student. As Jean's eyes land on the boy's face, his face turns sour, and his lips tighten. Meanwhile, the boy raises a hand and waves at Jean, giving him an embarrassed smile.

"My good grace," Jean sighed. "Bertie, what in the world are you doing in the ceiling vent?" he questioned sternly.

The boy, Bertie, responded with a mischievous grin. "Oh, hey...! Bro...! I was! I was, uh—" Bertie stammered.

Bertie was Jean's brother all along.

Though his brother attempted to explain, Jean regarded him with a raised brow that reflected his fraying patience. "Bertie..." Jean grunted, his arms crossed.

"I was... hehe... I... I was—" Bertie muttered with hesitation.

"Bertie."

"I... I—"

"Bertie," Jean interjected, raising his voice. "I know you're sneaking in, as this is the fifth time you've done this, this semester." Taking a deep breath, Jean continued, "Tell me the truth. You're trying to take something from me again. Aren't you?"

Bertie gnashed his teeth as he hesitated to explain. Summoning his courage to speak, Bertie released a deep, heavy sigh and said, "Alright. Alright... forgive me, Jean, but I am... I needed to take your notes to make a crib sheet for the upcoming finals." Inhaling deeply, he ventured, "I am just afraid to fail this grade level again. Because if I fail, Dad will scold me. And we know how strict he can be when disciplining us, right?"

     Jean placed his hands on his hips as he carefully examined the scarlet colour of Bertie's sash around his waist. The previous year, Jean had seen Bertie wearing the same colour. However, Bertie continued to wear the same colour for this year and hadn't graduated, unlike the other third-years. It became evident that Bertie failed to pass his third year in the university, bringing a worried look on his face.

Jean exhaled heavily, taking a moment to give his eyes a brief respite. "Look, Bertie... we know Dad will be more upset if he finds out you're cheating. Moreover, if someone catches you cheating, you'll fail the course instantly, and you don't want that, do you?" he said.

"Yeah..." Bertie replied, sighing as he brushed his elbow.

"In any case, we should head to our next class now. And instead of not listening, why don't you try paying attention in class so you know what to answer for the finals?" Jean suggested.

"Fine," Bertie nodded, averting his gaze.

     Turning from the dorm, Jean and Bertie stride down the corridor. Along the way, they stumble upon their other brother, George, far ahead. As the three make eye contact, they unite and march forward, ready to go to their classroom.

"Hey, guys," Bertie beamed.

"George," Jean and Bertie called out.

     George's skin is as pale as freshly fallen snow, burning like the face of the full moon. His eyes possess the deep hue of a blazing charcoal, perfectly harmonizing with his smooth complexion. Silken strands of black adorn his head, giving a playful contrast to his appearance. Around his lean figure, George wears his respective school uniform, completing his ensemble with a red sash.