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Shun was still dazed, completely uncertain how to react to that. Flipping out didn't seem like an appropriate response, but just leaving it didn't quite seem right either since that made him fairly uncomfortable. Somehow, it made him even more uncomfortable now than it would have in the past. Before he probably would have recoiled and brushed it off, giving the other person a bit of a dirty look if it had been in a similar situation as this one.

The sound of a song snapped him out of his stunned state, as he shook his head and rubbed his cheek where he had been kissed. As he listened, he felt a deep sort of sorrow fill him. It was similar to when Hel sang to the statues, but during that time, he had the fight to distract him. That wasn't so much of the case here.

Though he had finally relaxed, he still had a bit of a distant look in his eyes. Had he reacted that way because.. of how he felt towards Mitsu? It was a silly thing in his opinion. Come to think of it, a few of his other actions earlier were likely because of the same thing.

...

He was a fool. The Reaper realized this among other things here. A part of him wanted something more but he doubted she'd feel the same. Not for him at least. Even then, she would deserve someone who would emote more properly and the like. Or at least someone who knew how to have fun. Or many things really.

Silently, he glanced over to Mitsu before casting his gaze to the ground.

The song had stopped now, but the feelings lingered.

Barth continued his trek, head hung eeriely low, something not quite right about his shuffling movements, as if he was held by invisible strings. His eyes were closed.

Normally, he would have dropped, completely knocked out.

Lately, that hadn't been the case.

He made it to Christof. Wordlessly, he lowered himself from the floor.

"Zzz," he said.

Christof could only blink. He sat very still for some time before finally, tentatively, giving the demon a poke to the forehead.

The mood had changed. With the nudist colony leaving to their next room, they were alone with only a few stranglers from another group and nothing more. Calder had enjoyed holding Barth, but when things became quiet again, the mood changed. Freya and Herryk were talking with some other first years he didn't know and chatting, and he smiled to see that they were having fun. That was until he saw Freya and Herryk bicker again. Really, those two were just swinging all over the place. He really wished they could be happy together for a while longer, but they split up again.

Calder rolled his eyes, and sat, trying to open the protection charm when he heard the song. It was a strange melody, but it's tone and delivery was hauntingly beautiful and deeply moving. It didn't delight, but made your heart ache for no reason, leaving you to fill in the gaps. Just as this happened, Barth left him, and Calder had enough reason then and there to feel miserable.

Sitting alone, he watched at Barth went over to Christof. He glanced back at the protection charm and then threw it across the room. Frowning, he huffed and flopped to one side, hair spilling about him as he crossed his hands about his chest and laid there.

Christof's face contorted in confusion to the sudden quiet apology. Did... Barth even know what had gotten him upset?

His eyes dropped down to his lap again before lifting his hands to quietly sign, "It's-alright. Understand-if-you-prefer-him."

And there it was. As soon as she'd spoken, all she got from him was silence. She could still see his shadow, otherwise she would have assumed that he had turned and left. So she kept appearances up as best as she could, refusing to make any sounds that gave indication to the tears that were trickling down from her eyes.

She reached up and brushed her face harshly, but she refused to turn around. She refused to let him see it. She refused to look at the face that had hurt her, because she knew what she would see. She'd seen it before, she didn't want to see it again.

Her voice cracked as she started humming the song again, but she reached two bars in and she stopped. Now even that song was tainted, and hearing it, from her own voice, stung her already broken heart.

Herryk was not the brightest boil, but he knew what was going on. He'd made Freya cry. It was unmistakable, the way she angrily wiped at her face. It was the only thing that made sense, because he had the urge to cry, as well. This was not what he wanted. This was not how he'd expected things to go.

He felt more hollow now than he had before, if that was even possible.

Without speaking a word, Herryk lifted his hands and placed them on her shoulders -- if she allowed it, he would lean forward and whisper something that only Freya would be able to hear. If she didn't, if she drew back from him, Herryk wasn't sure what he would do next.