Eight by Eight, a legend of heroes fanfic

Eight by Eight

Takes place post chapter 3 but before chapter 4. Consider this a missing bonding event, and like all bonding events it can be read as platonic or shippy – I'll leave the interpretation up to you, dear reader! References to Machias' actual bonding events, the chapter 4/Heimdallr field study, and two examples of chess notation.

"King's pawn opening? No, too rote and predictable at this point, though it's certainly stable and easy to read for the early game. Perhaps something more unconventional might do the trick and keep those bluebloods on their toes..."

Machias Regnitz with his head in a book was hardly a foreign sight to anyone that frequented the library at Thors; to be honest, there were weeks where it seemed like he spent more time at a table then he did in his dorm (a fact that amused the librarian and made everyone else bemoan the amount of work it would take to try and dethrone the joint top scorer for the next round of exams).

For his part, said top scorer was currently looking down intensely at a variety of chessboard positions and placements, a frown on his face as his hand reached up to adjust his glasses every so often. "Maybe it would be best to try a flank opening and lead with 1. nf3," he mused out loud, setting the book down before he crossed his arms and considered his options. "Not as common as 1. e4, but it's solid and flexible enough. They'd have counters in mind I'm sure, but most of them are well established so it wouldn't be difficult to visualize the flow of play up until the midgame – "

"Getting a head start for exams already, are we?" a pleasant voice interrupted, causing the green haired boy to look up and give a friendly nod in greeting when he saw Emma smiling warmly at him, a number of books tucked under her arm. "Either that or you really want the homework out of the way."

"Neither this time actually, though it certainly wouldn't be a bad idea once I'm finished reviewing," Machias admitted easily, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms above his head. "After all, if you're here then I'm assuming that's what you were up to, and I have no intention of conceding any ground as is!" he declared firmly, regarding the girl with an expression that most outside Class VII would have called 'imperious' or 'smug', and what those inside Class VII had come together to label as his 'Solemn Declaration face'. (Fie had been the one to coin it, naturally).

"Funny thing is, a month or two ago you might have actually meant that wholeheartedly," Emma thought, amused at her fellow class official. Out loud, she replied "Oh, nothing of the sort. I was actually just getting some books for Dorothee – the progress on her works has picked up quite a bit, and she wanted a few reference materials for accuracy before she really jumped into the meat of the stories."

"Ah," Machias acknowledged, as his brain connected the name and the image of the pale girl who ran the Literature Club at Thors. Truth be told he didn't know much about her, but he could respect any fellow lover of the written word without reservation. They were a rare breed, after all. "I see. Her dedication to her craft is admirable if she's going that far – it sounds like they'd make for interesting reads, at any rate. Can you tell me anything about her work? I've been in need of some new material lately…"

The metaphorical gears in Emma's head immediately ground to a violent, crashing halt before whirring rapidly again in an attempt to stumble out an answer that wouldn't result in Machias bolting from the library screaming in horror. "Well, it's a piece that just so happens to take place in an educational institution much like this one that involves a Commoner and a Noble trying to hide their forbidden attraction to one another by means of extremely vocal hate – "

"Ah… Emma?"

"I-I mean, I suppose there are certain similarities between the two protagonists and you and Jusis, but I'm sure those are totally coincidental! There's absolutely no way this is based on real life, and I'm just as sure that Rean, Gaius, and Eliot aren't hapless pawns in the torrid game you two play, because you're all too proper for something like that and I'm pretty sure Alisa wouldn't share Rean anyway, nice as she is – "

"Is… is everything all right?" Machias asked her uncertainly, taking in her now reddened cheeks and slightly dazed expression.

"… Also, she may have put you in a dress. Or three. There's a possibility of a leash being present as well, I had to set the manuscript down at that point so I can't really remember -"

The sensation of hands gripping her shoulders and shaking her slightly snapped her out of her disturbing reverie and she found herself laughing sheepishly on pure reflex once she saw her friend's concern/confusion. "Oh, sorry about that! Dorothee's tastes are a little… hard to explain," she said delicately. "Trying to find out the right phrasing takes some doing, and I kind of drift off, you know?"

"I'll… I'll take your word for that," Machias answered vaguely, making a mental note that he should put some serious effort towards avoiding discussion about the Literature Club's works in the near future. Or at any coming point in time, for that matter.

"But wait," Emma asked, tilting her head a little bit and looking at the mess in front of Machias. "You seem to be putting an awful lot of work into whatever it is you're doing – would you like some help? If it's not for school, then you shouldn't have to worry about me getting a leg up or anything like that, right?" the chestnut haired girl continued, looking a little concerned. While Rean was far and away the leader in Class VII for taking on more work than any sane human being should, Machias' dogged persistence in applying himself to academics made him a close second. She herself was probably third if she was being honest, though Celine kept her from burning out for the most part.

"No need to worry about that," Machias told her, waving his hand in the general direction of the pile. "You're hardly the type to resort to such underhanded tactics, and besides; this is for the Chess Club, so it's not for school per se."

"Chess Club?" she asked, looking at Class VII's vice president questioningly.

"Yeah. We have a game against the Upper Class coming soon, so I intend to be fully prepared beforehand. I've got board openings, game records, tactical and strategic notes here. No stone will be left unturned by the time I'm through, and I guarantee that uppity bunch won't know what hit them!" he proclaimed proudly.

"Oh, I see now," Emma replied, nodding her head sagely while resisting the urge to chuckle at his little dig; while he had done a remarkable job of being more open minded about the nobility ever since their return from Bareahard, from what she understood the conduct of the other club was such that they were actually deserving of his ire.

… Of course, this didn't stop him from going off like a Fire Bolt art whenever Jusis baited him but in all fairness that went both ways. Just another facet of Class VII life she'd gotten used to - and come to find endearing, in some strange way - in a surprisingly short time.

"Wouldn't it be better if you actually practiced against someone, though?" Emma asked, frowning slightly at the swathes of paper that cluttered the table. "I find that reading about something helps prepare me for learning how to do it, but I never get anywhere unless I actually do whatever it is I'm trying to pick up."

"You're not wrong," Machias admitted with a little sigh, his right hand coming up to adjust his glasses again. "But Stefan's busy with his own matters this week, and it'd be rude to add to his burden already. The other club members come and go so unpredictably it's hard to get to know them, so it's not like I can get a game out of them either."

"Mm. That sounds rough," she sympathized, knowing all too well how difficult small clubs could make life sometimes. Machias, for his part, merely shrugged it off with a resigned smile.

"It can't be helped. Even if there's no one to play, that's still no excuse for me to slack off at all; I can still prepare the best I can, right?"

Emma could only giggle a little at that. The entire explanation had been just so Machias that it was hard not to, and she couldn't help but giggle more when she saw his indignant expression. "And what exactly is so amusing?" he asked a little crossly, though it was clear to his friend that he wasn't nearly as sore as he appeared.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all," Emma replied innocently, all too aware that her words carried an echo all the way from Bareahard. Seeing his raised eyebrow, she merely smiled placatingly and said "But I suppose you're right. There's no such thing as too much preparation, after all. That said…"

Machias blinked as she trailed off. "That said…?" he repeated, wondering what she had in mind.

He was surprised when she shook her head and shrugged a little bit. "Just an idea, really. It would be a shame if you put in all this work and you didn't get to put it into practice at least once before your match. I'm not particularly good, but I know the basic rules. If you feel like it might help, would you like to play?"

(When he looked back in retrospect, Machias actually wasn't sure what was more surprising; Emma offering, or him saying 'yes'.)

"Apologies for the mess," Machias tossed over his shoulder while he unlocked the door to the club room and stepped inside, gesturing to the brunette to do the same. "We've been doing quite a bit of review in here as well, so it's a little bit disorganized."

"I can tell," she laughed, immediately recognizing the clutter surrounding the boards and game clocks as a larger scale version of the chaos that Machias had been studying so intently earlier. "This game coming up must be quite significant."

He made a face as he shuffled game diagrams into a pile and set them aside before grabbing the books and doing the same. "It is, but it didn't exactly start out that way. Originally it was just supposed to be us playing against them from time to time – no major stakes, just them getting the chance to flaunt their so-called superior talents in front of the lesser lights."

This squared with what little she had heard about the other club, and the distaste on the other boy's face reflected that. "So what happened?"

"We won more often than we lost," Machias replied, his voice laced with the characteristic matter of fact tone that was so often seen as arrogance by those who didn't know him better. "They didn't like that, so they decided to up the stakes."

"Meaning…?"

"The next match is winner take all with the losing club disbanding," the Class VII vice president told her flatly.

Dead silence reigned for a few moments.

"That's absolutely ridiculous," Emma murmured, shaking her head in disbelief. "Why would they do that?"

"I have no clue. I'm certainly not thrilled with it, and for the all grief they've given Stefan and I we certainly had no desire to see them fold, but they were insistent on those terms and far be it from a Commoner like me to tell Nobles that they're making a huge mistake, right?" he asked rhetorically, though the gleam in his eyes indicated that while he may have been telling the truth about not wanting them shut down, he certainly wasn't going out of his way to save them, either.

For her part, Emma barely managed to refrain from rolling her eyes at that one. "Boys. Honestly."

Something must have shown on her face in spite of that, because Machias immediately began stammering defensively. "D-don't get me wrong! If they were to come in right now and call it off, we'd be more than happy to oblige them, but as it stands now… " he trailed off, looking rather unsettled before throwing up his hands. "To be perfectly honest, I think you're right. This is absolutely ridiculous, but it is what it is, and we have no intention of losing and letting them think their antiquated viewpoints have any sort of credibility."

"Fair enough," Emma allowed, nodding in a resigned fashion. She certainly understood that chess was only the battleground for the real conflict here, one that she knew Machias was dealing with better but still wasn't all that comfortable with. It couldn't have been easy for him with his father's position being public knowledge, and she honestly felt for her friend. He really was doing his best to shake off his established prejudices, just as Jusis was, while rejecting the ones that were being unfairly imposed on him. "I do hope that after this situation blows over everyone involved remembers that games are supposed to be fun, though."

The taller male made a gesture of concession with one hand while his brief clean-up continued. "Well, even with the conditions that were set I admit to looking forward to this match; they do play fairly well, and though I prefer to be on the winning end I'll never walk away from a good game and say it wasn't fun."

Emma laughed weakly at that, helping Machias set the last of the mess aside before sitting at one end of the table. "Oh, dear. I hold little hope for your enjoyment, then – like I said, I know the rules, but I never learned anything like formal strategy. Maybe you'll manage to take something from this anyway?" she finished, sounding hopeful.

"Don't worry about it," he assured her, striding over to the table at the far edge of the room. "I just look forward to seeing you play. Before we start, tea or coffee?" Machias asked, looking at her expectantly as he filled the kettle at the sink.

"Oh! Tea please, if you have it."

"Coming right up," the boy replied, turning on the small orbal hotplate and placing the kettle on it. "I actually guessed that you were a tea person beforehand. Looks like I was right, hmm?"

"You are," Emma said agreeably. "I didn't realize my choice in beverage was so predictable."

"Not as such. It just seems to suit you, that's all. I can't help but picture you with a cup of tea as your constant companion when you're grinding your way through assignments."

"Not just assignments!" she laughed, before fixing him with an expression filled with theatrical primness while he prepared the drinks. "I'll have you know that my grandmother always said that a good book was never complete without a cup of tea to nourish the body the way that the book nourished the mind."

"Your grandmother sounds like a wise woman," Machias told her, before setting the steaming cup down in front of her. "Careful now."

"Thank you," she said, before gingerly lifting the cup with both hands to take in the scent before she took her first sip, mindful to not let the steam fog up her glasses. "Mmmm. What blend is this?"

"Some kind of Eastern herbal tea, I believe. Stefan buys a new kind from Brandon every time the club runs out, and he wanted to try something new," he responded before taking a sip from his own cup.

"I didn't know you drank tea as well," Emma said, a little surprised when she realized the same fragrance was wafting over from his side of the table too. "I'd always had you pegged as a coffee fan."

"Oh, believe me, I am," Machias assured her, setting his cup down and beginning to move his pieces into their proper positions. "Brewing a good cup of coffee is nothing short of an art, and furthermore I still think there's no better option when you need to stay awake. That said – well, let's just say Rean can be persuasive when he wants to you try new things."

"Ah, so that's it," the brunette murmured, taking another pull from her cup before tossing a mischievous gaze in his direction. "So, is it safe to say that Rean's helped you see the light and you've switched sides to the brothers and sisters of the brewed leaf, then?"

"Hardly!" Machias scoffed, and Emma couldn't help but feel a small grin form on her delicate features. "It's more of a… temporary alliance, if anything. Trust me, when we're both cramming for finals a few months down the line, it's going to be the delicious complexities of espresso that let me surpass you!"

"I wish you the best of luck with that. I'll be sure to have extra leaves ready on my end," she teased playfully, well aware at this point that he could have been the top scorer by an arge or two and he'd still work himself to the bone anyway. That was just the way he was; if there was no challenge set in front of Machias, then he would either find or manufacture one.

Or, as Celine had once so artfully put it after she had relayed a story or two about his academic focus: "That kid's never gonna stop and smell the roses. Not when he's too busy having a fit about how there's the slightest possibility that they might be planted wrong."

"Hmph! Be sure that you do," Machias said crisply, pushing up his glasses with one hand as he maneuvered the last of the black pieces into place. "Beating you would be meaningless otherwise."

"Hehe. I suppose it would take the fun out of it if one of us simply faltered," Emma agreed, as she began to rearrange her own pieces. "So, I'm going first then?" she asked, belatedly realizing that he had set up the black pieces on his side earlier.

"Well… yes, I'd prefer it if you did. I spent so much time on opening as white that I need to refresh myself on responding as black, you see," the green haired boy answered after a beat or two, averting his eyes briefly.

"Oh, I'm sure that's it. It couldn't just be you being nice, no?" she 'lamented' internally, her friend's transparency sweet and amusing all at the same time. "I don't suppose it'd be too much to ask for you to go easy on me?" the Class VII president asked innocently, mirth dancing in her eyes.

His reaction was both immediate and predictable, to say the least. "I-I'll do no such thing! Data shows that white already has a small but statistically significant advantage going first, so you'll just have to make do with that!" Machias said in what would probably have been quite a fierce declaration if his words and body language had contained any kind of real heat.

A resigned sigh that sounded suspiciously like another 'hehe'. "I thought as much. It was worth a try, I suppose. At any rate, I'll do my best to make this a fun game," she promised as she moved her king's pawn two spaces up.

"Honestly! I told you not to worry, didn't I?" Machias grumbled under his breath as he responded near instantaneously. "Differing levels or not, chess is always fun with friends."

Much to his embarrassed chagrin, she didn't even try to hide her smile at that.

Emma had to admit that part of her was worried that he was going to come out guns blazing (he was still rather competitive, though not nearly as much as when Jusis was present) but she was relieved to see that while his moves came quickly, they were steady and never overbearing, and though each turn tilted the game further and further away from her she could at least follow what was going on. He wasn't holding back per se, but nor was he aiming for a crushing victory.

Machias, for his part, was actually quite impressed; though he could tell a few turns in that Emma hadn't been lying about not knowing the finer points of chess strategy, whoever had taught her the fundamentals had done so very well. Her moves were solid and well thought out, with only the inability to read deeper into the board keeping her from posing more of a challenge.

"Who taught you how to play, again?" he inquired almost absentmindedly about halfway into the game, causing her to jump a little – they had hardly spoken since the opening sequence.

"Oh, my grandfather did when I was very young. I would play him from time to time, but never seriously – I was too busy with books. Not that he minded any, he loves good books too," she admitted, her words soft with fond remembrance of simpler days.

"Ah, I see. For the record, he did a great job. You play well," Machias complimented, advancing his rook and threatening her bishop.

"I'll be sure to pass that on the next time I return home," Emma said, pushing up her glasses while she debated the list of possible responses. "He'll be happy to know that I got some use out of his lessons."

"Mm."

A few moves passed in relative silence, with the only sound being the soft impact of wood on wood before a thought struck the brunette. "So, how about you? Who showed you how to play?" she asked, though she had a feeling she knew who his teacher was already.

"My dad did," Machias answered promptly, confirming Emma's guess. "We started playing together when I was a kid, and we've been playing ever since. He taught me everything I know," and Emma couldn't help but smile a little at the pride in his voice. "Wish I could say my record against him has gotten better as the years have gone on, but that'd be a lie. And… check."

"We have that in common – I never managed to beat my grandfather either, but my grandmother told me never to give up! Not that it helped any," she admitted with a laugh before moving her king out of range. "It didn't help that none of the other children played… most of them thought it was boring."

Machias rolled his eyes at that. "Typical for kids, but not surprising. It was the same way when I was younger, and to be honest not much changed as I got older. Look at Thors; most people outside of the two clubs only see it as a way for senior citizens to kill time," he commented, pressing his attack with a knight.

Emma frowned slightly, realizing how precarious her board position was now. "I take it that means you didn't get to play with too many kids in Heimdallr, either?" she asked, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to find a way to turn the tables somehow before finally settling on advancing a pawn.

"Almost none of them, as a matter of fact. Really, the bulk of the board time came from playing my dad and Si – "

Then nothing.

Emma blinked, his sudden silence taking her by surprise and her attention off the board. "I'm sorry, I missed that last part. Your dad and whom?"

No reply from the boy across from her, save a slow yet sharp breath and a shaky capture of another pawn. Emma, whose senses were always so highly attuned to the emotions of others, drew forward slightly upon feeling a melancholy chill in the air.

"… Machias?" she murmured quietly, her focus solely on her opponent with the shift in atmosphere palpable now. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he replied, and her eyes widened upon hearing his voice utterly hollow and seeing his expression eerily blank before he blinked twice and seemingly snapped back to normal. "I'm - I'm fine. Perfectly fine. It's your move," Machias informed her, his right hand coming to adjust his glasses with a slight tremor that did not go unnoticed.

"Except I don't think you're fine," she thought worriedly, the brief glimpse of (painlossfear) she had caught making her heart ache a little. "I don't think you're fine at all."

"Are you sure?" Emma asked instead, wanting to help but not knowing how far to push – or if she should even push to begin with. She'd like to think that as a group Class VII had grown close enough to freely talk about matters that were bothering them, but it was one thing to volunteer sensitive information and quite another to have it badgered out of you. She watched him warily, knowing Machias well enough at this point to understand that he could very well respond poorly to being forced out of his comfort zone.

Much to her relief, he looked up and gave her a weak albeit genuine grin. "Yes," he said finally, nodding slowly and exhaling a long breath, with the tension that had suffused his entire body looking to have gone with it. "I'm okay, I really am. It's just… an unpleasant memory reared its head at an inopportune time, that's all."

"Oh," Emma said uncertainly, pleased that he had been willing that divulge that much but still unsure of how to proceed. "I see. I'm very sorry if I brought up anything painful! It wasn't my intention… "

"Please don't apologize," Machias was quick to assure her, straightening up from his brief slouch and looking ashamed that he had worried her even a little bit. "It's not your fault. First of all, you couldn't have known. Second, if anything I shouldn't have been so introspective when a game was going on. And third… "

Emma tilted her head, waiting for him to continue, and she was surprised to see a soft, almost nostalgic expression cross his face. It suited him far more than his trademark scowl did, she decided, and she had a feeling the others would think so too, if they ever got the chance to see.

"… There are so many good memories, too. It all balances out."

"I'm glad to hear that," Emma breathed gratefully, and even if she didn't know what he was talking about she was relieved to see the weight had come off his shoulders almost as quickly as it had appeared. "I really am."

"Yeah. I'm sorry for throwing that on you all of a sudden Emma," the boy muttered quickly, a little embarrassment on his face now, and she shook her head furiously in response. Why in Aidios' name would he have any reason to apologize?

"Don't be. I'm your friend, remember? This is what friends do, Machias. They listen if someone wants to talk, and if someone doesn't want to talk… well, that's fine too. They can wait."

A few moments of silence, before…

"… Heh."

Out of all the possible ways he could have responded to that, the quiet chuckle he went with was the last one she expected. "Wh - what is it?" she asked warily.

"It's nothing," he snickered, before fixing her with an amused gaze. "But keep that up and before long Rean's going to have some serious competition on his hands when it comes to inspirational speeches."

It was an odd sensation, having the desire to be relieved that Machias was indeed all right warring with the desire to pout and kick him in the shin. "H-hey!" Emma huffed indignantly, though the warmth in her eyes betrayed her lack of ire. "I wasn't that bad!"

"I suppose you weren't," Machias agreed, before his expression settled into a more solemn one. "Thank you, though. I do appreciate the sentiment."

"Y-You really don't have to thank me for something like that," Emma protested, feeling her cheeks heat up slightly. "Just so long as you're feeling okay now."

"I am," he assured her, before looking at the now forgotten board for the first time in a while. "On that note, I believe it's still your move."

"Oh, right!" she exclaimed, putting on a show of looking down and concentrating as the mess that was otherwise known as white. Truth be told, this game was pretty much over; she couldn't see any other outcome for her besides checkmate or resignation. The gap was simply too large. Instead, the girl couldn't help but replay the conversation in her head, trying to find what it was that had shaken the stoic vice president so badly, even if only for a brief moment.

"… I'll tell you all someday, I think."

Emma nearly jumped out of her seat upon hearing that, and for a second she looked mortified at having been read so easily. Her panic vanished, however, when she saw that Machias wasn't even looking at her at all. His eyes were still focused on the board, but the nostalgic expression from earlier had returned and there was a lingering tenderness behind his lenses, as if he were reminiscing even now.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, you know," she said quietly, offering him an out.

"I know I don't," Machias replied in the painfully blunt manner that he seemingly owned, before he looked up again and favored her with a small smile. "But I'd like to, anyway."

Emma couldn't help but smile back. "I see. You know, I think I'd like that, too."

A companionable silence.

"Now," she said as she formalized matters by reaching out a finger and daintily tipping over her king. "How could I have played better?"

"Well," Machias began carefully, his hands automatically recreating the first board position he had in mind. "Your opening was solid, but you left gaps on the right side here…"

"How can you possibly remember so much about one game," Emma murmured blankly a good 45 minutes later, half impressed and half in utter disbelief that he could basically replay the entirety of the match from memory alone while still having the awareness to point out all the possible variations and possibilities that still remained.

"Repetition, repetition, and more repetition; like I said, dad and I played chess a lot. If you play enough, you start to remember certain things after a while, then before you know it that unconscious memorization has extended itself to sequences instead of just individual moves and then things just kind of snowball from there," Machias answered, shrugging as if the answer were obvious. "Same principles that go with getting proficient at anything else I suppose, though I never really focused on anything else to that extent outside of target practice."

Emma couldn't resist. "Besides academics, of course," she added cheekily, and she was rewarded by the green haired boy's eyes narrowing behind his glasses.

"For all the good it does me," Machias grumbled, shooting her a dirty look as she tried to look as innocent as humanly possible. "But mark my words, the tables are going to turn! First I'll help Stefan take down those upper class twits, then I'll turn my attention to dethroning Thors' top exam scorer!"

"Well in all fairness, we're tied for that title now," she pointed out, smiling apologetically all the while. "But I'll be doing my best as well, so expect another tough battle come finals!"

"I'll be ready, just you watch!" Machias promised determinedly as he began to clean up the pieces, and Emma noted (and not for the first time) that it really would be good for him if he had more days like today; days when he carried around that softer countenance instead of the focused scowl, days when he simply stopped to enjoy the roses instead of agonizing about how they were planted.

… Goddess above, she was actually using a Celine analogy. Maybe the long game had scrambled her brain a little.

"Anyway," he continued, the pieces now arranged in their proper order. "I should probably head back to the dorm and get some proper schoolwork done. Are you heading back as well, or are you going to take those books you got to the Literature Club room?"

"I think I'll head back myself, actually. Dorothee's usually not here this late and I don't have a key. Shall we walk together?" Emma asked, sliding the aforementioned books into her satchel.

"Sounds like a plan," he said amiably, turning to survey the room one last time. "Just let me lock up here and we can get going."

"Sure," Emma answered, sliding the strap onto her shoulder while she watched him quickly make sure everything was in place. "Is there anything I can help with?"

"No, everything is pretty much as it should be. If anything, Stefan might come in and wonder why everything's so clean compared to before! Besides, you did me a big enough favor as is."

Emma couldn't help but scoff. "If you say so, but I doubt that playing one game with me is going to be a lot of help against the other club…"

She trailed off when she saw that he was looking down at his feet, and she swore in the fading sunlight she caught a brief flush passing across his face. "You're selling yourself short, but that's not exactly what I meant."

"Oh," she murmured, feeling her lips curl upwards slightly before she nodded in acknowledgement. "It was my pleasure, really. Like I said, it's what friends do."

"Yeah. But still, thanks," he repeated, still looking uncomfortable but forcing the words out regardless. "For listening and… well, not pressing. And, um - the game was quite productive too, of course!" Machias added on hastily, almost tripping over his last sentence in his hurry to get it out.

"I had fun," Emma agreed, picking up her bag and turning towards the door. "I do hope you enjoyed yourself as well."

"Of-of course I did!" the green haired boy snapped reflexively, only to wince when he realized just how harsh he sounded. Luckily, judging from Emma's giggle she took no offence.

"That's good, then," she told him placidly, and Machias felt the familiar sensation of blood rushing to his cheeks as he studied his shoes, wondering how he could have botched that any worse. Thank you. Two words. How hard was that to say to someone, really?

"Say… it would be nice if we could do this again from time to time, wouldn't you agree?"

Machias froze, not entirely sure that he had heard her words correctly, before he looked up to meet Emma's cautiously hopeful gaze head on.

"I - well, if schedules permit and we're both not bogged down with other activities, then I certainly don't see why we couldn't play again," he finally managed to say, and because he knew that he simply wasn't built for a conversation like this he left it at that, knowing better than to dig himself deeper.

Still, judging by the gentle smile she gave him as she led the way out of the club room, it seemed she understood nonetheless.

... and of course when Machias actually talks about his family, Emma's not in the party. Well, he maybe he got the inspiration beforehand, hmm?

Well, that's over and done with. Though there were a few embellishments taken (for one thing, even if orbal hotplates exist the Chess Club at Thors does not have one, much less a sink) my main hope was to write a decent bonding type story between Emma and Machias, because even if they don't interact too much in game their personality types seem like they'd play well together if they were allowed to. It has nothing to do with the fact that they happen to spend a lot of time linked when in my party. NO WAY.

Also, because I had way too much fun writing Emma's mini rant, some bonus stuff below:

OMAKE

"…"

"!"

"… Also, she may have put you in a dress. Or three. There's a possibility of a leash being present as well, I had to set the manuscript down at that point so I can't really remember -"

Another "!" and a clunk as a book fell from suddenly nerveless fingers.

Emma snapped out of it upon hearing the noise, only to see Machias staring at her with an expression that could only be described as gut wrenching horror combined with an unspoken request to please never say anything again EVER, and as her keen mind connected the dots…

"Oh. Oh no. Oh nononononono. I… I said all that out loud, didn't I?" she asked faintly, not entirely sure whether or not the desire to laugh and cry (hysterically, of course) at the same time was normal when faced with situations like these.

The total lack of a reply in its own way indicated that yeah, she probably did. Still, at least he wasn't running - he was just borderline useless for any kind of activity that required a functioning mind, which wasn't a whole lot better. Making up her mind quickly, she looked both ways before whipping off her glasses, her sapphire eyes starting to glow with an ethereal light. Risky, yes, but when the alternative was using her ARCUS to call Rean and tell him she broke Machias, well...

"Ehehe. Well, I always did want to experiment with ocular hypnosis and memory modification – no time like the present!"

OMAKE 2

"Spend time with Machias/Emma? (*Will consume a bonding point.)"

Machias immediately jumped to his feet, looking around the room with a supremely irritated expression on his face. "Oh, for Aidios' sake! Who keeps saying that, and why does it only happen with people from our class?"

"Oh, lovely. You hear it too, then."