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Summary
Yet, in all it's years, the Dark Mirror has never seen such a thing.
Their soul is shapeless, molding and moving beneath it's critical eye. Twisting in anxious spirals as the student shifts their feet. The longer it takes, the more red their ears become, and the more colors bloom within the shapeless confines of their soul. There is no direct answer for them, it would seem. For there is no where this soul should go, and no where this soul could not. A burst of color draws it in, a hope, or perhaps, prayer this child has. Yes, their choice is a smart one. If any Dorm could contain an unpredictable, wildly beautiful thing such as this soul... it would be that one.
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Or - When Yuu was nothing but a child, they found themselves in twisted wonderland. Aimless, and no more than three years old, their only hope for survival is in the old fae who happens to find them wandering the woods.
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Or - I hyperfixated on the Diasomnia boys, wondered what would happen if Yuu was adopted by Lilia, and got so personally offended when the Dark Mirror called my soul shapeless and colorless, that I wrote an entire fic about it.