Welp, that was much sooner than I expected. While I didn't intend for there to be any direct continuity between one-shots, this one could be considered something of a sequel to the first installment. This one also got a lot heavier than I intended, so consider yourselves warned. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and remember to drop a review!

TheKillingJar: Thank you! I felt it would be interesting to look at the little space between The Final Battle and A Is For Anonymous, so I'm glad it went over well with you. I'm admittedly particularly nervous about my portrayal of the characters thus far, so thank you for the kind words.


"Oh, just kill me now," Irma groaned under her breath. "I know better than this, you never say… or think… that nothing can go wrong. That just guarantees it."

The mysteriously wishy-washy behavior of the Annihilators had been all-but-forgotten the moment she re-absorbed her Astral Drop. Well, not the exact moment, as the memories took several minutes to trickle in, (which had been particularly inconvenient during that incident with Hay Lin's play) but it wasn't long after that she found herself overwhelmed by a sudden need to bang her head against the wall. "Stupid, stupid stupid stupid!"

It wasn't even her Drop's fault. Not entirely, anyway. She knew already how utterly flaky they could be, and she'd given very specific instructions to try to counteract that. The problem was, she wasn't sure if her instructions had been too specific, or not specific enough. Either way, she was in for an awkward and painful meeting once the bell rang. Maybe if she just went to the next class, ignoring her locker… but no, she'd have to change books, and avoiding Will wasn't going to last in the long run. Or in the medium run, for that matter.

No, it looked like she'd just have to face the music. With her luck, it would be Wreck 55's music. Eurgh.


Time in class normally seemed to pass at a glacier's pace, as if to draw out the suffering for as long as possible, but of course now that she had the incoming meeting to dread, Irma found that the clock moved far too fast for her liking. In what seemed like no time at all, the bell rang, and everyone rushed out into the halls.

The bell rang and everyone rushed out into the halls. Not-Irma had been one of the first ones out of the door, not needing to spend time putting her books back into her bag… having failed to realize she was meant to take them out in the first place. Down the hall she went, beaming widely at everything that caught her passing fancy. Irma had given her an important job, and she felt just so happy to be entrusted with such responsibility!

Irma was the last one out of the door. Down the hall she trudged, scowling sullenly at everything that looked even remotely like a potential inconvenience. Had enough of those as it is. Unfortunately, her mood was destined to be made worse, as she found herself in a particularly nasty predicament; two all-too-familiar girls came up on each side, hemming her in. "Oooh, our Irmy's such a deviant!" squealed Bess and Courtney Grumper in a frightening display of synchronization, "What a scandal!"

Unfortunately, her mood was destined to be dampened slightly, as she found herself in a mild predicament; two unfamiliar girls somehow appeared on either side of her, smirking in a way that shook even her boundless optimism. "So, what's the news today?" One asked, the other elaborating with "Our Irmy almost looks like she cares about school today! Something must be up. Is it a boy?" Not-Irma was struggling to string together a good answer out of what little sprung to mind, when they arrived at what she instinctively knew to be her locker. Two lockers down was Not-Will, and she mentally pleaded for her to make everything better.

Irma was debating between multiple witty retorts that instantly sprung to mind, when they arrived at her locker. Two lockers down was Will, and she could only groan; this just made everything worse. "Ooh, will you run to your girlfriend?" The two perpetually shark-like girls were circling now; having wounded the prey earlier, it was now just a matter of time before they moved in for the kill.

"My, are you scared of us? You can't be our real Irmy, she's got too much guts for that!" The two strangely shark-like girls were all but sniffing around, waiting for the blood in the water that would send them on their next hunt.

Thankfully, Not-Will seemed to recognize the danger of discovery, moving closer with something of a threatening stance. "Hey, what do you two think you're doing? Back off!"

"Or you'll what?" Bess smirked. "I'd like to see you try anything, Will-muh!" It was that day that it was discovered that, regardless of original version or Astral Drop, some things were just constants. Not-Will swung a fist, and the two instantly ran off, screaming and crying in an exaggerated manner.

Regrettably, Will seemed not to recognize the danger of fueling the fire, moving closer with something of a threatening stance. "Will you two just leave her alone?"

"Oh, do you want to get into even deeper trouble?" Courtney's voice was as coy and syrupy as ever, but her expression was unusually stiff. "Don't make me get the teachers again."

Will just sneered. "I already have detention from now until the rest of the year. Do you think that'll scare me? Now shoo."

The two nodded their heads and left, but Irma could make out some of their whispering; something about Matt, unfaithfulness, and aggression. "Damn them," the Guardian of Water swore, pounding a fist against her own locker in frustration. She caught Will looking at her, and suddenly the awkwardness had sprung back up like an invisible brick wall between them.

Not-Irma watched the two go, glad they were out of her hair. "I don't like them," she commented, opening her locker to change out books. (She had no clue which ones she needed, but she figured that since everyone else was doing it, she should too.)

Once she was done, she caught Not-Will looking at her, and suddenly another instinctive remnant of her source's consciousness made itself known. Real Will or not, the redheaded girl standing by her side was so very beautiful, the hall itself seeming to be replaced by a pink pattern of frogs and fishes, as the heroic leader's astral drop's short hair was stirred by a nonexistent wind.

Oh, but Real Irma told me not to kiss Martin, Andrew Hornby, or Will! What could she do?

Will looked gorgeous, she had to admit, even her almost feral behavior just now only serving to strengthen the pounding in Irma's chest. Unfortunately, if ever there was a time for that, this was not it. Irma felt trapped, needing to say something but unsure of what wouldn't just make it all worse. What could she do?

They must have spent some time standing there, because Will finally took charge, raising a curious eyebrow. "So… earlier. Our drops. Any idea what that was about?"

Irma sighed and closed her eyes. She should have just stayed behind from this mission.

Not-Irma came to a quick and clever decision. She had been told not to kiss Will, certainly, but it could be argued that her fellow Astral Drop wasn't Will, not really. The decision was too easy. Leaning forward, she allowed her lips to brush the redhead's cheek, before moving in for a chaste peck right on the mouth. For a moment, the world seemed to explode in a glorious burst of color, and even in her stilted Astral Drop heart, there were the stirrings of real emotion. She was so glad Real Irma had gone on that mission.

And then the kiss was over, and Not-Irma simply walked off, feeling unbelievably proud of herself, completely oblivious as the hallway behind exploded with gossip. She also missed the expressions of pure shock on the Grumper Sisters' faces down the other hall. A shame really, for that alone could have improved Real Irma's mood by a lot.

"Right, yeah, that. Um… usual Astral Drop silliness?" Irma knew it wasn't very convincing, but for once in her life she was utterly lost for words. Time to resort to desperate measures. Take my word for it, take my word for it, TAKE MY WORD FOR IT!"

"...Right then, I guess I'll just have to take your word for it." Will shrugged and frowned, turning her attention to her textbooks, and Irma did her best to suppress a sudden riptide of guilt. "Still, we're going to have to figure out what to do about all of them; the whole school will be talking about us soon enough. I mean, two girls kissing, pretty weird, right?"

Irma felt her heart sink like a breached submarine. "Right." Raking textbooks into her bag without even looking at them, she closed her locked and walked away, head hanging low.


It was evening, and the Annihilators had finally been destroyed, Will stepping up to the plate and electrifying the foes, quite literally. There was victory to be found in that, Irma supposed, and she had managed to wear quite an effective mask through the remainder of the conflict. But now she was home, and her facade could drop. Tom and Anna Lair seemed to sense her mood, and so dinner was something of a sullen affair all-around.

"Two girls… pretty weird… No, no. I can't do this anymore," Irma finally muttered, pushing away her plate of uneaten lasagne. "Mom, Dad? I gotta tell you something."