Turnabout is Fair Play
So, this takes place in-game post chapter four but before chapter five. Some mild spoilers about Emma/Celine. Also; remember how the last fic could be read as platonic or shippy? This... is a little more cut and dry toward the latter. Heads up.
Really, there was no need for her to be as morose as she was. After all, in the grand scheme of things Class VII had come out on top in every possible way that mattered; the kids had been rescued, they had stopped Nosferatu's chaos from reaching anywhere past Lohengrin, and most importantly (in Celine's humble opinion, anyway) – Emma had managed to keep her classmates from finding out about her powers in spite of an acting performance that had the familiar praying to Aidios that Class VII's contribution to the festival didn't them being thespians in any way, shape or form.
All that, and yet her companion still was seemingly mired in a funk that never seemed to end. Case in point; the cat was currently curled up in a sunny patch, one wary eye fixated on Emma while the girl sat against a tree and…
Well, she was kind of pretending to read a book, but considering the time it took her to turn a page could be measured in minutes it was safe to say she was doing a terrible job at it. Add in a wistful sigh and uncomfortable shuffle every so often and you had yourself the recipe for a pity party – one that Celine was honestly getting a little tired of seeing day in and day out.
Inclining her head carefully to make sure that there were no observers within hearing distance, the feline stood on all fours and pawed her way over to Emma, tail swishing with every step.
"Just how long," Celine began, more than a little irritation in her voice, "do you intend to mope around like this?"
The brunette looked up suddenly, startled out of her reverie. "Wh-What do you mean?" Emma asked nervously, knowing full well that no one was around but still paranoid about the possibility of someone discovering that the ordinary stray cat she had been taking care of was anything but ordinary. "I'm not – "
"Don't even try," the cat retorted, sounding utterly unimpressed. "Ever since the last field study you've been walking around like someone died even though you lot managed to prevent *exactly* that. Everything went fine, Emma! There's not a reason in the world for you to be so down, but yet you still seem to be stuck in an emotional quagmire that you don't seem to be in any rush to get out of."
"Okay, don't you think that 'emotional quagmire' comes off as the slightest bit excessive?" the brunette sniffed, and Celine was surprised to feel relief at hearing her annoyed indignance; it beat the hell out of the alternative, to be perfectly honest.
"Not really. I'm pretty sure even Dorothee's noticed at this point and she doesn't pay attention to much unless it gives her fuel for whatever torrid fantasy she happens to be cooking up at the moment."
She paused briefly to give her front paw a few dainty licks, very aware of the discomfort on her companion's face. "What's wrong?" Celine finally asked, her voice softening noticeably. "The only reason I haven't asked before now was so that you'd have the chance to work it out yourself, but that's going absolutely nowhere. So why don't you stop pretending to read and talk to me for a few minutes?" the black cat asked, her genuine concern coming through.
Celine wasn't quite sure what to expect, but the short, sad laugh that came a moment later made her heart ache. "Emma…?"
"That's the funny thing, isn't it?" the bespectacled girl asked rhetorically, setting down her book and removing her glasses. "When I came here, you were the only one I could really talk to – I mean, I didn't know anyone else, and it took a bit of time before I really felt comfortable with the rest of Class VII, even after the initial incident at the Schoolhouse."
"And now?" Celine prodded, glad she was finally opening up a little bit but not wanting to get too pushy.
"Now it feels like I should be able to talk with them about anything," Emma admitted with a sigh. "It'd certainly felt that way in Nord and Legram. But when we got to Lohengrin and it became clear that there was something beyond human at work there, well…"
Celine wasn't sure what wound up lifting the veil, the weight in Emma's eyes or the catch in her voice, but the familiar understood immediately without having to be told. "You feel bad that you have to lie to your friends, don't you?" she murmured quietly, the query holding no trace of the expected accusation or recrimination whatsoever.
"They've been so open about everything," Emma answered solemnly, bringing her knees up to her chest. "Rean, Jusis, Gaius, Laura – some may have taken longer than others, but in the end no one's held back anything when it comes to talking about themselves or the burdens that they bear. No hesitation, no regrets - because for better or for worse we all trust each other unconditionally. And then, there's… well, me."
"And then there's you," Celine echoed, not unkindly. "And then there's you, a person whose secret to hide is a lot bigger than a poor relationship with his father or a complex about being adopted – no offense to those two, of course."
"Should that matter?" Emma asked her familiar sadly, looking down at the grass in frustration. "When everyone else is willing to open up freely about themselves without reservation and I listen knowing full well that I won't reciprocate… I just can't help but feel like an absolute hypocrite."
Not for the first time, Celine was struck by just how much Emma had grown in the short time she had been at Thors. Before joining Class VII her biggest fear was that she was going to slip at some point and compromise either herself or Celine during the school term; now, what was plaguing her was the guilt coming from wanting to do just that.
Still, secrets like that one were secrets for a reason, and though Celine could empathize she (and Emma, for that matter) knew that there were bigger things at stake here.
"… I can't say I blame you," Celine began carefully, understanding her friend's turmoil but also needing to make sure she grasped just how important it was to keep the true nature of her abilities and the exact breadth of her knowledge shrouded, especially considering what they had learned about Rean at Legram and what Crow had borne witness to when Elise had shown up at Thors that fateful day. "It can't be easy having to hold back all the time, especially when all your friends are ready and willing to open up because they see everyone else in Class VII as trustworthy, yourself included."
"Mm," Emma murmured, and Celine could tell from the slight hesitation that the brunette knew what was coming.
"That said… you do understand why doing what you did was the right thing, hard as it was to lie?" the cat prodded, not particularly enjoying her duty but knowing that it had to be done. With what could potentially be at stake, they could ill afford slip ups now.
A resigned nod and an expression that suggested Emma was tasting something vaguely bitter. "I never said I didn't, you know," she answered, and Celine could easily forgive the tartness in her reply. She had dealt with the secrecy for so long and so well that a little sass wasn't exactly unreasonable on her part. "I just said I felt bad about it."
"I know you do," Celine commiserated, and fortunately for both of them the feline's keen ears picked up on the approaching footsteps before anything compromising occurred. "And believe me when I say that you've done a great – mrooooow. Meooow. Mrowwww~!"
Emma blinked twice, confused. That had been… unexpected, to say the least. "Celine? Why did you…?"
A familiar voice calling out to Emma answered her question while making her nearly jump out of her skin at the same time. "Something tells me you're going to be waiting a little while if you're expecting a serious answer, you know. Cats aren't known for being riveting conversationalists at the best of times."
"M-Machias!" she exclaimed, scrambling to her feet in haste while Celine flopped back down and idly began cleaning her paw again, her eyes focused intently on the new arrival. While she'd be lying if she said acting like the average cat whenever her friends were around didn't grate on her nerves from time to time, it did have the very satisfying perk of letting her see how Emma interacted with rest of Class VII up close. "I-I didn't see you there!"
"Understandable," the green haired boy replied dryly, pushing up his glasses as he spoke. "You seemed quite focused on your cat. Hello to you as well, Celine."
"Mrrrow," came the expected reply, the cat continuing to groom herself while she kept a critical eye on Machias. Truth be told, he was a bit of an enigma compared to say, Rean or Fie; off the top of her head, she knew that he was the son of the Heimdallr governor, intelligent enough to keep pace with Emma - a ridiculous achievement in itself - and quite the coffee drinker and literature buff.
He also hated the nobility with a passion, was competitive to a fault, and it sounded like he had a stick so far up his ass that Celine had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't know what to do with himself if it was ever removed. Probably have a conniption over the sudden change in posture, no doubt.
Still, she supposed that she really shouldn't judge too harshly; Emma, soft-hearted as she was, didn't make a habit of extending friendship to those that didn't deserve it and she seemed just as fond of the green haired boy as she was the rest of her class, even taking into account his borderline obsession with besting her academically once and for all.
"Good luck with that one, pal," Celine thought wryly. "Aidios only knows you'll need it – no offense, or anything."
Said friend was now looking curiously at the book that she had dropped moments earlier. "What are you reading?" Machias asked, squinting in an attempt to see the cover.
"Oh, this?" Emma laughed shakily, picking up the slim volume with still trembling fingers. "Nothing special, really. Actually, I'm just reading up on some of Legram's history. Laura actually recommended it to me after our last field study; the city's certainly had its share of interesting events after all, and there's nothing wrong with a bit of topical study, so…" she trailed off lamely, and Celine couldn't help but roll her eyes.
"… Indeed," Machias replied vaguely, his hand coming up to adjust his collar – was it just Celine's imagination, or did the bespectacled boy look even more stiff and uncomfortable than he normally did? "Well, that certainly does sound intriguing. It must be a very interesting book to have made you leave class so quickly just to get further in it."
Caught off guard, Emma couldn't help but stumble over the next few words that came out of her mouth. "W-What? No, that's not – quickly? I really don't think I left before anyone else did," she stammered out, sounding more and more nervous with every syllable.
Machias sighed before reaching into his jacket pocket to grab a handkerchief. "I would beg to differ. Normally after the bell rings most of us stay for a little while before dispersing to clubs or other appointments – " (and again Celine would have rolled her eyes were she physically able, because what the hell kind of teenager referred to after school activities as appointments?) – "but lately you've been the first one to leave after our esteemed Instructor," he continued, removing his glasses with one hand and wiping the lenses down with the other. "It's been kind of noticeable."
"Is that so?" Emma asked faintly, sounding more than a little poleaxed while familiar couldn't help but feel a little vindicated. She knew that all of Emma's moping tendencies wouldn't have gone unnoticed for long, and here was proof staring her right in the face.
"Yes," he admitted easily, sliding the glasses back onto his face with a practiced flourish before fixing her gaze with his own, the curiosity that was present earlier having now been replaced with a mix of worry and apprehension. "So I decided to take the opportunity to ask – have you been feeling all right lately? Anything out of sorts?"
"Out of – no, not that I can think of!" the brunette exclaimed, all the while trying to figure out how to deflect his unexpected (yet both welcome and touching, if she was being perfectly honest) concern. "Please don't tell me that my leaving so early brought this on, otherwise I might have to scale back on my reading schedule a little bit!"
Much to her chagrin, her attempt at levity fell absolutely flat. If anything, the expression on her friend's face grew even more pensive, and she couldn't help but feel a little ashamed for making him worry. "No, really! What else brought this on? And more importantly, how long have I been 'out of sorts' for?" she laughed.
Silence, before…
"… ever since your return from Lohengrin, if I'm being honest."
And suddenly, just like that, Emma didn't feel like laughing anymore.
"I thought it was my imagination at first," he continued, the look in her eyes almost making him lose his nerve before he collected himself and went on. "After all, it's not at all unusual for our field studies to be stressful experiences. But something tells me that whatever this is probably goes a little beyond that. Am I right?"
Celine's eyes narrowed, her gaze now intently focused on the pair, with both looking very nervous for entirely different reasons; Machias because Celine would be willing to bet her life on the stoic boy having little to no experience with a weighty conversation like this, and Emma because the witch had been bottling for so long that letting even the slightest bit escape would probably lead to her spilling the whole story.
(It wasn't as if a memory charm couldn't have fixed that, but the cat knew that if Emma felt guilty over simply not being forthcoming with her friends, having to actually alter their minds to preserve the masquerade would be nothing short of emotionally devastating).
"Look," Machias began again, looking every bit as off-balance as he felt right at that moment. "I – It's just – I know this might not be any of my business, but…"
"That's right. It's not," Emma thought angrily, her gaze dropping to the ground below with the rest of the boy's words eluding her ears as she felt the pent up emotion that had been haunting her finally break loose. "So why bring it up at all!? Just leave it alone! What am I supposed to say, 'Sorry for acting strangely, but I can't tell you why - I have reasons though, take my word for it!' Is that what's supposed to happen?"
"Emma…?" Machias asked cautiously, noting her now clenched fists and refusal to meet his eyes. Celine, having sensed the sudden spike in the brunette's emotional state, leapt from her reclining position and bounded to her friend's side in one smooth motion.
"What do you want from me?" her inner tirade continued, the look of furious frustration on her delicate features matching her now erratic breathing. "Answers? I can't give them! I can't tell you all how I know what really happened at Lohengrin, because that's a secret bigger than all of us! I can't tell you that I'm not all right, because that just leads to more questions and those are the *last* thing I need right now! I can't tell you anything! Even though…"
Had Emma been capable of focusing on anything else, she would have seen a sad, helpless expression flash briefly across Machias' face, her friend desperately wanting to help but knowing that he was utterly powerless to.
"… even though any of you would tell me anything in a heartbeat," she finished her soliloquy miserably, the inner fire having burned itself out just as quickly as it had blazed to life. "Because we're friends. We're friends and I trust you all without hesitation except for when I can't. So what does that make me, then?"
A ticklish sensation by her leg made her look down, and she saw Celine rubbing her head against her, mewing softly in sympathy all the while. While their bond wasn't such that the familiar could hear thoughts explicitly, she could certainly feel, and it broke her heart that this small comfort was all she could offer. Kneeling down to pet the cat on instinct, Emma blinked away the tears she felt forming, taking solace in Celine's soft fur.
"Emma…? Are you – "
"I can't," she whispered, the two words hurting more than anything that Nosferatu had thrown at her during that climactic battle. "I want to, so much. But… I just can't. I'm sorry," she murmured, her last two words directed towards Machias. Aidios above, how was she supposed to explain this? Wasn't this practically admitting that she was hiding something?
Looking up at Machias, she was a little surprised not to see the expected panic or bewilderment on his face. Indeed, he looked... pensive. Almost thoughtful, as a matter of fact, though his furrowed brow betrayed the concern that must have lain underneath. Emma wasn't sure what was presently running through his head, but she was steeling herself for the worst.
"Feel free to say something reassuring anytime now, jerk," Celine thought angrily, knowing that she was being wholly unfair and not particularly caring at the moment. "You were the one that dredged this all up and dragged it out into the open, you'd better have a plan to make her feel better or so help me…"
Needless to say, neither Celine nor Emma expected what came next.
"…You wouldn't happen to have any plans for the rest of the afternoon, would you?" Machias finally asked, pushing up his glasses as he seemingly ignored Emma's pained answer.
"W-What?" came the confused response, the brunette puzzled at the sudden change in topic. "Well, no… you caught me in the middle of reading, but that's not really something I was going to do until evening anyway."
"Good. In that case, would you mind indulging me in a game?"
"Indulge…? Oh, you mean chess?" Emma asked, her mind drifting back to the match they had played a little while back. Celine, for her part, didn't have much of a clue as to what was going on. This wasn't *seriously* the best idea he had for comforting a distraught female, was it?
"Yes. Stefan's been absent lately thanks to a project, and none of the other members have been by lately. Would it be all right?"
Aidios above, it looked it was. Celine couldn't believe her ears – what did he do if he forgot a birthday, offer to proofread their homework?
On the one hand, Emma wasn't exactly in the mood to play any sort of game, much less one that she stood absolutely no chance of winning even if she'd been able to block out the tempest swirling around her psyche and actually focus on the board.
On the other hand, she did have to admit that their last match really had been quite fun, all things considered. Plus, if she was being truthful… she genuinely had been looking forward to playing another, albeit under better circumstances. Also, it wasn't as if she was going to be doing anything else, and besides; she figured at least this way she might be able to fix some of the self-inflicted damage and reassure him a little bit.
"I suppose it would be," Emma finally said, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile that she didn't feel. "I'll warn you that it probably won't be any more competitive, though."
"Don't worry about that," Machias told her, and Celine swore she heard a hint of relief come through his voice then. "Just so long as you're there. Shall we?" he offered, extending his hand to the still kneeling girl.
Without even thinking about it, Emma reached out and grasped the proffered hand with her own while automatically scooping up Celine with the other, leading to an angry sounding "Mrroow!"
"Oh, I'm sorry Celine!" the brunette apologized as Machias helped her to her feet. "I probably should have warned her first, shouldn't I?" she rhetorically asked the other boy, noting the somewhat amused expression on his face.
"It may have been the polite thing to do, but I'm not sure how much good it would have done. Cats are supposed to be significantly more intelligent than most animals, but understanding human speech to that degree, even for a cat as smart as Celine, is probably a bridge too far."
"If that's supposed to be a compliment…" said cat groused, flicking her tail in irritation. Patronizing, much? For her part Emma chuckled weakly, though Machias could easily see that her heart wasn't exactly in it.
"You're probably right. Still – would it be okay if I took her along? Stefan wouldn't mind if she were in the room with us, would he?" the Class VII President inquired, the familiar presence of the cat in her arms a small but significant comfort.
The stoic boy shrugged diffidently. "Well, we don't have any rules prohibiting pets in the club, and even if we did I suppose I could see myself flouting them just this once. Besides, Celine's well behaved enough that she's sure not to cause any problems. Like I said; she's a smart cat."
"… Okay. That's a little better," Celine admitted to herself grudgingly, letting out a pleased "mrrrrrrrow."
"I'm sure she appreciates the sentiment," Emma assured him, giving the cat a light scratch behind the ears with a contented purr following soon after. "She'd probably thank you if she could."
"Tell her to think nothing of it," Machias replied, immeasurably glad that the tension had eased somewhat. "Besides, we have enough spare boards and pieces prepared if it turns out I'm wrong and she starts trying to eat them or claw them or something equally as… cat-like."
In spite of her dark mood, the bespectacled girl couldn't help a small chuckle as she felt the feline stiffen noticeably, her little nose scrunching in what Emma immediately recognized as offended indignance. "Oh, Machias. You were doing so well, too."
"It's certainly neater than it was before," Emma noted clinically when she entered, the mess that had consumed most of the club room in her previous visit nowhere to be seen. "Have you not had to review any games lately?" She set her satchel down by the table they had occupied last time, adjusting her glasses as she spoke.
Machias shook his head in the negative. "Not recently, but in all fairness the last time you were here was a special case. At any rate," he continued, pulling out a chair for Emma before striding to the orbal hot plate to heat up water. "Have a seat. I hope you don't have any preferences for tea this time around, though – I don't think Stefan stocked up this week and it to be honest it slipped my mind too."
"Anything you have will be fine," came her reply, sounding marginally more lively then she had earlier but still far too subdued and morose for Celine's liking. Judging from the slight wince that flashed across Machias' face, he felt very much the same.
Meanwhile, Celine herself pawed around the room briefly, her gaze flicking around the relatively simple surroundings while fighting every urge she had to act "cat-like" out of sheer spite. *Eat* the pieces or claw the boards, would she? Maybe she'd just claw his sorry hide, see if he'd still be smug after that…
As if reading her thoughts, Emma leveled a slight frown at the familiar, who had the decency to look at least a little guilty before she hopped up onto another table and curled up comfortably, making sure she had a clear vantage point from which she could see Emma and Machias.
Oblivious to the entire byplay while he prepared their drinks, Machias nevertheless kept sending what he must have thought were surreptitious glances Emma's way every so often, much to Celine's amusement.
"You may be a lot of things kid, but stealthy's not one of them," the familiar thought drolly. "You're lucky Emma's still kind of out of it, otherwise you'd probably have some awkward questions to answer and we both know how well that would go. After all, usually there's only one reason to stare at a girl as much as you've been doing…"
"Tea's ready," Machias announced, jolting Celine out of her reverie, and the cat watched as he gingerly placed one steaming mug in front of Emma before doing the same on the opposite side of the table. "No cream unfortunately, but there's sugar if you'd like some."
"This will be fine, thank you," she assured him. "I do have a sneaking suspicion that your club doesn't use much of either, though."
A shake of the head. "I personally don't, but Stefan actually uses quite a bit of both. I can't understand the point of going to the trouble to brewing a beverage with such subtle flavor notes only to drown it in overpowering sweetness."
She shrugged diffidently before lifting the mug to her lips to take a first sip. "I suppose everyone has different tastes. Still, I can't say I disagree with you."
"Great minds," Machias chuckled, the laugh sounding tinny and more than a little forced. "I'll take black again, if it's all right with you," he continued, fingers going through the well-practiced motion of board setup.
A nod. "That's fine," came the girl's distant sounding answer, her sapphire eyes unfocused behind her lenses. "It's not as if the first move mattered all that much last time, either."
"True, but that was then – this is now," Machias declared firmly, sounding a lot more sure than he felt. "And like then, I expect nothing less than your best!"
"I can see what you're trying to do, but I'm *really* not sure if it'll work," Celine mused from her table, her eyes never leaving the pair. "At least your heart's in the right place, even if the execution is looking about as poor as Emma's acting."
For her part, Emma simply smiled weakly and moved her king's pawn two spaces up with Machias mirroring her move almost instantaneously, his hand adjusting his glasses automatically in a manner so practiced it may as well have been reflex.
The game progressed at a fairly steady pace – much like the last time, her chess was more than adequate – but in stark contrast to that day the silence that now dominated the room was stiff and uncomfortable instead of warm and companionable, and the atmosphere was oppressive to the point of making Celine's hair stand on end.
"I'm surprised that she's managing to play about as well as she did before," Machias noted, the love of strategy and tactics that had been drilled into him difficult to totally ignore in spite of the circumstances. "At the very least, she seems to be concentrating well enough... maybe that's a good sign?"
Judging from her furrowed brow and borderline glare, Emma was indeed concentrating quite hard on the task at hand – if nothing else, it would keep her from thinking about other, loftier matters. The only issue with that, however, was the level of play from the boy across from her; just like before, no matter she did he seemed to have an immediate answer in mind, and it was almost always one that left her board position worse off. She wasn't lagging too far behind in terms of piece count, but the writing was slowly being etched onto the wall with each passing moment and she couldn't help but utter a sigh of frustration.
"Problem?" the stoic boy offered instinctively, only to have to keep himself from slamming his head onto the desk when he realized just a second too late how patronizing that sounded. "For those who say there's no such thing as a stupid question..."
"Nothing that I didn't expect, I'm afraid. It looks as if this game will be ending sooner rather than later," Emma replied, the strain evident in her voice. "I apologize for not being able to offer you more of a challenge."
"Don't start with that again. You could stand to give yourself a little more credit, you know. You play better than you think." He flicked his gaze upwards for a moment, wanting to gauge's his opponent's current mental state; sometimes, it was all in the subtleties of someone's body language where the biggest cues could be found.
The blatantly flat expression that met his eyes, however, spoke volumes about how well his attempt at encouragement had gone, and not for the first time Machias found himself wondering just how in the world Rean did what he did while managing to make it look easy. After all, the swordsman had managed to work the miracle of convincing Jusis and himself to call a truce at the nadir of their working relationship (because it wasn't and still wasn't a friendship, thank you very much) in spite of the considerable opposition coming from the pair. This wouldn't have been a problem for him, Machias was sure. Yet when he had brought it up after class had ended, Rean had merely smiled enigmatically and told him that it sounded more like a job for the Class VII Vice President... an opinion that looked more and more like it held distressingly little weight despite carried as consensus by what seemed like every other member of Class VII when they had found out what was going on.
"Thank you for the vote of confidence, but you really don't have to try to cheer me on or up. I appreciate the effort, I do, but... I suppose my heart's simply not in it today. You really shouldn't have bothered. A better game could have been found elsewhere, probably," she murmured deprecatingly, and Machias felt his chest twinge at seeing her despondent expression. Defeat wasn't something worn well by any member of Class VII, and she was certainly no exception.
Watching her practically slump in her chair, Machias couldn't help but feel a little adrift now; he wanted so badly to try and help, but if the events of the afternoon up until now had a common theme it was that he was shockingly bad at this. Though it undoubtedly felt like he was giving up, maybe it would really be better if he just cut his losses and left her alone... otherwise, he ran the very real risk of pressing too hard and making her feel worse. After all, if he were in her place...
… if he was in her place, like he had been not so long ago...
An almost inaudible sigh of understanding. Aidios above, he really was an idiot. Leave it to him to miss an answer that was plain in front of him the whole time. But then again, this conversation wasn't exactly easy the first time he had it, and he *did* say that he'd tell everyone someday, so if anything this was just him living up to a promise. If nothing else, Machias Regnitz was as good as his word – and he always paid back his debts.
(No matter how painful the memories would be.)
"... You bothered, though."
Emma blinked, the seeming non-sequitur enough to temporarily jolt her out of her near stupor. "I beg your pardon?" she said, tilting her head curiously.
"You bothered," Machias repeated quietly, pushing up his glasses. "The last time we played, I mean." He moved his rook three spaces up in a move that was supposed to threaten her right side, but it was done with so little conviction it was obvious to Emma that there was now something else occupying his mind.
Celine's ears perked up noticeably. "The last time, huh? Something tells me there's a story here..."
The brunette couldn't help but feel a little bit lost now. "I..."
"I never told you why I reacted the way I did before, did I?" the green haired boy solemnly asked her, a heavy sense of melancholy lacing every word, and it was only then she understood.
Oh.
So, that was it.
The image of Machias staring at the board with an utterly forlorn look on his face appeared in her mind's eye, and even now she couldn't help but feel a brief flash of pain at the unbidden memory. No one should have had to look like that, ever. But why was he bringing it up now, of all times?
"You didn't, no," Emma replied cautiously, not entirely sure where he was going with this but curious enough to continue.
He nodded once tersely, before he pulled off his glasses to clean them again in a manner that Emma realized was supposed to be calming to them both. "I thought as much. Well, I suppose I should start from our last field study in Heimdallr, then."
"Our last field study?" the brunette repeated, the game all but forgotten now with her attention (and her familiar's, for that matter) solely focused on the serious boy.
Machias nodded again as he slid the lenses back onto his face, his expression deadly serious now. "Yes. We were in the middle of completing our assignments for the day when we ended up at my house in the Ost District for a very necessary break. It was then I chose to have a long overdue conversation – or perhaps I should say I chose to start having a series of long overdue conversations, seeing as all of Class VII wasn't present."
Another nod.
The boy stopped then, before taking a deep breath and continuing. "When you all first met me, it was no secret that my opinion of the higher ranking members of the Empire's class system wasn't a high one. Quite frankly I despised the lot of them, and though I maintain my ire at Albarea is absolutely justified much of the time I can see now that the accusations I slung at him that first day – and at Rean and Laura, by extension – were unfair. My grievances may have been legitimate, but my targets at the time certainly weren't."
Emma still clearly following along, Machias continued. "I believed that if we were going to work as a group, then at the very least everyone deserved to know why I initially felt the way that I did."
Another pause. "And why, depending on the noble in question, I can still feel that way without tarring all of them with the same brush as I did before. So, I ended up telling them the same story I'm about to tell you." He exhaled in a rush, looking everywhere but at Emma and his fingers drumming in anxious double time.
The girl spoke up then, having sensed his trepidation almost immediately. "Wait a moment. You don't have to if you don't want to, remember?" Emma told him, calling back to her words from before. "I meant that, you know," she declared firmly, all the while trying to suppress the slight tinge of disappointment that she hadn't been there. Goddess, how petty was that?
"I'm sure you did. I also said that I'd tell you all someday, remember?" Machias reminded her, something resembling a pained smile flashing across his lips briefly. "I meant that, too. At any rate, I suppose there's no time like the present..."
And with that, the girl sat enraptured as the boy told her a story about a family in Heimdallr. There was a good, just father, a little boy who Emma couldn't help but think sounded absolutely adorable, and a loving sister figure that was the glue that bonded them together.
He told her how the father had doted over the sister as if she were his daughter by blood. He told her stories of how the boy idolized the sister, and how she was everything that he one day aspired to be. He told her the beginning of what sounded like a fairy tale love story, and it all sounded so idyllic and perfect and breathtakingly wonderful that it was only when she saw the look of pain in his eyes that she belatedly understood that there would be no happy ending.
He told her of the petty jealousies, the letters, exactly just how that love story ended, and in between being heartbroken for the family and infuriated at the perpetrators the girl finally grasped just how there could have been so much hate in one so young.
It wasn't fair, Celine decided from her resting spot. It wasn't remotely fair. But then again, it was rare that life ever was.
"And so now you know," Machias finished, sounding utterly drained but almost at peace at the same time. "Even on the best of days, remembering Sis is never easy for me – something you saw firsthand. But like I said before, there are so many good memories as well. If anything, I would do well to remember those more often instead of blocking everything out. And furthermore; I was wrong to judge all nobles as I did. When you carry around something like that for so long and let it fester..." He paused, looking more than a little ashamed, before he steeled himself and pushed onward.
"I was so angry. I still am angry, to be honest with you. But that wasn't – and isn't – an excuse. Rean, Laura, and even Jusis all deserved better than what I initially gave them."
Finally finished, the boy leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a few moments, each breath he took coming more easily than the last, before he once again leaned forward and fixed his gaze steadily on his friend.
"Machias..." Emma murmured, her eyes soft with sympathy and understanding. There was no doubt that it had taken a great deal of fortitude to tell that story even once, let alone twice, and for a second or two she had to fight the impulsive urge to give her friend a hug. "I understand. Thank you for sharing that with me," she told him instead, shoving down that last thought as hard as she could; neither of them were particularly touchy-feely people, so she could only have imagined how well that gesture would have been received, well intentioned as it may have been.
"You're very welcome." The straightforward and honest reply, bereft of all the pathos that had plagued it before sparked a small smile on Emma's face, once that Machias was all too happy to return. "I suppose I should thank you for listening, as well. But with that out of the way – there is a point I wanted to make."
"Point?" Celine and Emma both thought simultaneously, wondering where he was going with this.
"Now, I had told you last time that I would tell everyone someday, correct?" he asked. Upon seeing her nod, he went on. "Good. Let's say then, if for some reason I hadn't felt comfortable sharing my past... would there be any grounds for you to hold that against me, and be upset that I chose not to reveal that information? Or if anyone else in our class had felt that way about their lives?" Machias asked, no expression at all on his face as he shrewdly judged her reaction.
The question hit Emma like a slap in the face, and her lips moved for a few moments with absolutely nothing coming out. He wasn't being serious, was he? Even after all that, how little could he possibly think...!?
"Absolutely not!" she declared fiercely, standing up so suddenly that she almost knocked over her chair. "That was your story, and yours alone! I'm certainly glad you shared it with me – well, us, really – but there was certainly no concrete obligation that you had to! Honestly, how can you even *think* something like that, much less say it?" she huffed.
A beat.
"I've changed my mind," Celine decided. "You. I like you."
"Excellent answer. I would expect no less from Thors' top first year student," Machias told her, smiling for an entirely different reason now upon seeing her expression go from determined to sheepish in a heartbeat as she realized what she had just said. "Now, for homework; how about taking some of your own philosophy to heart in the future?"
"B-But I'm not entirely sure our situations are identical," Emma protested weakly.
Machias waved his hand dismissively before she could go any farther. "I fail to see how they're not. I don't think there's not a person among our class that would look down on you for keeping quiet about yourself until you're good and ready. Contrary to what you may think, you don't owe anyone anything. I for one certainly won't hold anything over your head should you choose to remain silent."
He paused again before continuing, his voice softer now. "It's not right that you suffer over something like this, you know. I don't have the slightest idea as to what happened at Lohengrin, and yet I trust you fully anyway. I'm sure everyone else feels the same. So please... don't look like that anymore. I can promise you, there's no need."
Upon seeing Emma's gaze drop, Machias held his breath and watched, each second that elapsed seeming to stretch into eternity as he awaited any kind of response. Unbeknownst to him, Celine was doing much the same, the feline watching her charge intently with only the constant twitching of her tail betraying her own nervousness.
For a few seconds, all Emma could feel was the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, with the cold, twisting sensation that had been curled tight within her gut ever since her return finally relinquishing its vicious hold on her. In its place there was only a pleasant warmth that started in her center and seemed to radiate outward, with the smile that soon blossomed on her lips only being a matter of course.
True, the situation wasn't nearly as simple as he had made it sound, especially considering that Group B had learned of the events after the fact. Nothing changed the fact that she and Celine still had a duty to perform, and until that day came Emma would have to ensure that her lineage stayed out of the spotlight. Unlike before, however, that knowledge would no longer be a specter hovering at the edge of every action she took. She was who she was; a proud student of Thors Military Academy, a witch whose powers were birthed from a era long since past, and a young woman who would gladly lay down her life for those of her friends.
When the time was right, she would tell them everything – everything – without hesitation. Before then, all she could do was keep on proving herself worthy of their friendship and trust in her own way; no harm would come to them so long as she drew breath, and she knew that everyone else would return the favor without blinking an eye. That's just the kind of group Class VII was.
"I have to hand it to you; stick in the mud or not, you do excellent work," Celine thought happily, letting out a pleased meow immediately sensing the shift in Emma, and the cat launched herself from the table to hop into the girl's lap in a few quick bounds.
"Hehe," she laughed, running her fingers through Celine's fur before moving up to scratch behind her ears. "Well Vice President, you do seem to make a very compelling case. You haven't been taking lessons from Rean, have you?" She flashed a small grin at him, a teasing lilt coating every word.
"Hmph! That was uncalled for," Machias shot back, the indignant reply masking the massive wave of relief that was coursing through his system. "I-I'll have you know that as Class VII's Vice President, one of my duties is ensuring that my counterpart – that would be you – is fully capable of performing hers at any given moment. Continuing to stand idly by while doing nothing would have been a flagrant violation of my responsibilities!"
"And within fifteen seconds you have me wanting to claw you again," Celine lamented, still purring away under Emma's ministrations. "You were worried about her, you stupid, stupid boy. You can admit that, you know! It's not going to make anyone uncomfortable besides you, and you'd only be uncomfortable because of that stick up your – "
"Oh, I see," Emma nodded sagely, schooling her expression into one of mock seriousness. "So you're saying if that I weren't President, you'd be more inclined to let me sort through my own issues, then?"
"You – that's prepostero – I uttered *no* such thing!" the bespectacled boy stormed, pointing a finger furiously at the brunette. "It's unseemly to draw such an erroneous conclusion, and furthermore I'd thank you not to put words in my mouth!"
Emma 'hmm'd' in reply, still stroking Celine placidly all the while. "I fail to see where I'm misunderstanding, though. If you wouldn't mind elaborating on your viewpoint further, I'm sure that this could be cleared up in no time."
"You're being mean, Emma." Celine thought wickedly, enjoying the show far more than she should have. "You're being mean, and it's absolutely glorious."
Machias' mouth opened and closed a few times, before he finally 'hmph'd again and crossed his arms and scowled in a manner that bore a surprising resemblance to a full on pout. "Well, perhaps next time I'll just keep my mouth shut, seeing as how it appears no good deed goes unpunished under your tyrannical regime."
The brunette couldn't help but dissolve into a fit of helpless giggles at that, and even Machias was unable to keep himself from breaking into a smile himself before long, the tense atmosphere that had been present for most of the day having been broken at last.
"Very well then," the Class VII Vice President allowed, removing his glasses and closing his eyes briefly. "If you must know, I still would have ensured your well-being even if it wasn't part of my job description – and no, listening to Rean's many treatises weren't a determining factor, though I can see why you might think that."
A brief moment of silence. He still wasn't good at this sort of thing, and he probably never would be. "You're my friend. I was worried. We were all worried. Sometimes it's just that simple," he managed, his eyes still shut while he carefully replaced his glasses, his voice remarkably steady.
The sound of chair legs scraping on the floor echoed through the room, followed by soft footsteps that ended behind him. Seconds later, the sensation of a pair of soft hands alighting on his shoulders made his eyes fly open in surprise, though he somehow managed to hold the rest of his reaction to a sharp breath.
"I suppose it is." Her acknowledgment was quiet, heartfelt, and held no trace of the mischief that had been present mere seconds ago. "Thank you. Thank you so much," Emma whispered, and Machias could tell the sentiment came from the bottom of her heart.
"I-It wasn't just me, you know," he stuttered nervously. "It was all of – I mean, this was really more of a Class VII matter, but as the other representative..."
"I know," she assured him, her voice gradually lulling him into a calmer state. "I don't understand what I did to deserve friends like all of you, but I'm forever grateful to the Goddess for it. I wouldn't trade any of you for the world."
"That's satisfying to hear," he murmured, somehow managing to keep from blushing when he felt her hands squeeze his shoulders slightly.
"But besides that... thank you for sharing your story earlier," Emma continued, and Machias couldn't help but swallow hard as the nerves were replaced with a lump in his throat. He still couldn't think of Sis without it hurting at least a little, and until matters finally changed for the better in the Empire he doubted that would ever stop being the case. "Even though you told some of the others already, it still couldn't have been easy for you. I'm... I'm so sorry that you had to go through that again just to make me feel better."
"Don't feel bad about that," Machias thought wildly, the words stuck in his throat. "Don't ever feel bad about that, Emma. I was privileged to share that with you, just like I was privileged to share it with the rest of Group A and I'll be privileged to share it with everyone else, so just..."
Once again, he couldn't say anything. It was rare that he could ever really open up without stumbling or stuttering, or hiding behind an imperious wall; maybe he had used up most of his luck in Heimdallr, and the rest of it scant moments ago. Asking for any more would have just been greedy, he supposed.
"Think nothing of it," was the best he could get out, but even Machias knew that he couldn't leave it at that. Before he could lose what little of his nerve remained, he raised his left hand and rested against the one on his right shoulder, fingertips barely pressing against fingertips. "It's... it's all right," he told her, somehow keeping his voice halfway level, resisting every urge to either let go or turn around upon hearing her quiet gasp.
The comfortable pressure remained for a few seconds, before it was replaced by the slow but unmistakable sensation of warm fingers hesitantly threading through his own, loosely holding on as if asking for permission.
Exhaling slowly, the boy gingerly squeezed once and was rewarded by the gesture being returned almost immediately, the gentle contact sending shivers down his spine. Machias (being Machias) had to immediately tell himself not to get used to this right before every thought in his head vanished into thin air when she bent down and wrapped her other arm around him in a gentle hug, her lips less than a rige from his ear.
"It's not nothing, though, is it?" Emma whispered, the witch having no idea where her sudden burst of courage was coming from or why she was so strangely calm instead of being the absolute mess she should have been, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth; after all, he wasn't running away, passing out, or otherwise overreacting like she thought he might have earlier. "It's not. So again; thank you."
He waited briefly before answering, quietly drinking in the pleasant scent of strawberry. "You're very welcome," Machias finally replied, and no one was more surprised than him when the words came out steady and strong. "I'm just... I'm glad you're feeling better, Emma."
"Mm," she murmured, releasing the slight embrace to stand and step away; Machias followed suit moments later, now feeling oddly bereft.
A few more seconds ticked by in silence, with neither saying a word, before...
"Mrrrrrrow~!"
Both pairs of eyes turned simultaneously to see Celine lazily rise from her prone position, arching her back while fixing them both with slitted eyes and what Machias swore was a smirk.
"Ah..." Emma managed delicately, eyes widening as it dawned on her that the familiar had been very much present for *everything* that had just happened. Moments later, a rosy flush overtook her complexion as she began waving her hands frantically in the cat's direction. "Ahhh~!"
Beside her, Machias felt the blood rush to his face equally as quickly as he wheeled around to face the wall, his posture ramrod straight and his stare fixed firmly ahead.
"A-Anyway!" the brunette exclaimed shrilly, her voice hitting peaks that Celine didn't even know it had. "T-Thank you very much for the game as well! I learned quite a bit!" she lied shamelessly.
"O-Of course! How else does one get better at something than by doing it?" he practically yelled back, all the while wondering if he was going to be able to look her in the eye after this without being reduced to a blithering idiot.
"Exactly!" she agreed with painfully forced aplomb, tipping over her king quickly before she grabbed her bag with her left hand and Celine with her right. "Not a *word*," she breathed fiercely by the cat's ear, only to start blushing even harder when Celine merely winked at her and started to meow again. "That said, I really have to get going and... and review for tomorrow's class! Can't let you sneak by me when exam time rolls around after all!"
"Let me!?" came the immediate reply, the magic 'E' word having snapped the joint midterm leader back to his senses. "Oh, just you watch! If you're not careful, you're going to be left in the dust, mark my words!"
(Fortunately for Machias, his viewpoint kept him from seeing both witch and familiar roll their eyes skywards at that).
"All the more reason why I should hit the books!" Emma told him, reaching for the door and pushing it open. "There's sure to be lots of ground to cover. So, um – see you later. And... thank you again. All of you," she finished quietly, turning once to look at him only to find Machias staring back, his eyes uncharacteristically soft as sapphire met emerald.
"Anytime," he murmured. "It really was a fun game, by the way."
A last smile. "I'll take your word for it. Just don't wait so long to ask me to play again, okay?"
Before he could say anything to that, Emma had gone, leaving Machias alone with his thoughts and a chessboard.
A deep sigh.
"Well," he muttered to no one, turning to begin the process of cleaning up the board and tea cups, all the while wondering what had just happened. "At least I know the blithering idiot thing won't come to pass. Small blessings, I suppose."
AN: So endeth the far shippier sequel to Eight by Eight. I'd always wanted to take a stab at how Emma really viewed her secrecy schtick; I mean, just because she seemed okay with it from what we saw in-game doesn't necessarily mean she was cool with it 100% of the time. I've seen her character take quite a bit of heat from some people about her actions during Lohengrin (and by extension, the final dungeon) and while there's certainly a point to the criticism I'd argue that when all's said and done, it seems clear that she has Class VII's back. (Please don't prove me wrong Cold Steel II, but I'm pretty sure you're gonna torpedo the hell out of this fic and make it AU the instant you drop anyway, so...)
And as always, blindingly OOC as per rules and regulations...
OMAKE
"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order. Oh, they grow up so quick~!"
"... and I see the 'not one word' request lasted for approximately thirty seconds."
"Excuse me? Do you know how hard it was to not start talking after seeing *that*? Consider yourself lucky you even got thirty seconds. Still, I'm glad he got you out of that emotional quagmire you were stuck in."
"What did I say about calling it that?"
"Not to mention he's quite good looking – though at this place you could probably toss a rock in any random direction and hit someone pretty, so..."
"Celine..."
"I'm a little concerned about his one track mind, though. I mean, most human males have them but doesn't it worry you one bit that it's probably your exam scores at the top of his priority list with literally everything else tied for a distant second?"
"Celine."
"Oh, but Dorothee's going to be disappointed. I mean, she'll write about him and Jusis anyway but it's still going to crush her that it actually won't happen now - "
"Celine."
" - oh, hush. You were literally a head turn away from kissing the boy and you expect me to keep my mouth shut?"
"I – I was not!"
"Yes, you were. I'm surprised you didn't go for it, all things considered. Fortune favors the brave, you know."
"I – you – he – look, do you want milk tonight or not!?"
"Now there's a threat without claws. I have Rean, remember? He is weak, he will feed me, and I will purr. We have a system."
"... Words cannot express how much I hate you right now."
"I love you too, Emma. Good to have you back."
And from the Student Union cafeteria, two students sat and stared as the girl and cat left the building, oblivious to their audience.
"Was..." Laura began, uncertain as to what she just saw. "Was Emma talking to Celine?"
Gaius shrugged, elbows resting on the table. "I suppose it's not unheard of for owners to talk to their pets as if they were people. We in Nord actually do it quite a bit, especially with the horses – though they're certainly not pets in the traditional sense.
"That's fair, but do you do it in a manner that suggests them actually talking back?"
"... Well, in her defense she's been looking really stressed ever since we got back from Legram. Hopefully Machias talks to her soon; until then, it might be best to exercise some discretion."
"Agreed!"