She'd turned the radio on in the background, just to listen to it as she practiced her spec shots. The noise was nice, distracted her from the way her shots hit the mark and echoed in the training area. It wasn't supposed to be so quiet. Everything- everything- had been too quiet lately.

She was only hardly aware of her grandfather's shift into the room, only knew because there was no feeling more grating than his eyes scrutinizing her every move. She wanted to blame her irritation on him, blame it all on how he threw off her game, her concentration. She took another shot as the last words of a current Top 10 track faded out, stopping momentarily until the DJ realized he had dead air and fixed it.

"Oh! Aaand there we have it! Gee-Man's Miss You Girl, as requested! Now, Josie, we have any weekend updates?"

"You bet we do!" A woman's voice, though chipper and bubbly, was mature and somehow mellow, not as grating as Isabel had been anticipating. "There are reports of accidents on 45 and Mayview Way, so if you're aiming to get out of the city, South is probably going to be your best bet." Isabel huffed and raised her fingers again, aiming at a target to her right, where her grandfather wasn't standing and seething with complaints and critiques. "Dannis Gibbsy is engaged to Laurel Con- I mean, we all saw it coming after that season finale, but still." She couldn't quite find the mark, and it seemed the more she concentrated, the less certain her shot felt. She grimaced, tightening her posture and straightening up, telling herself again and again to just take the stupid shot. "And as for missing child Isaac O'Connor, police are yet to find any trace. If you have information please call in at-" Her lip curled. "His picture is up on our website. If you think you've seen Isaac O'Connor, once again, call-"

The shot hit the target by the bullseye, and blew it all up in a pit of red aura, like flame and electricity- like a surge of power. She might have screamed when she let the shot go, and that might have been the cause of the twitch- very slight, gone the next moment- in her grandfather's eye. Isabel wiped away at the sweat along her forehead, and Master Guerra took a step closer. He was laughing, that genuine belly laugh that used to make Isabel giggle because it was such a happy sound; it annoyed her, now. "Very well, Isabel! Job well done! You must be training hard!"

She glanced at him from the side with lidded eyes, not even bothering to turn her head, as her wrist wiped the sweat from the edge of her face. "Yeah," he watched her as she straightened up and turned for the stairs, grabbing the towel she'd brought down and slinging it over her shoulders. She needed a shower, some soup, and a move she could turn on while she lounged around and ate chips for the remainder of the day. "Maybe."

Isabel sighed and ran the fresh towel through her hair, humming as she padded into her room, shutting the door behind her with the heel of her foot. The hot water had been soothing against her sore muscles, and perhaps even more soothing against whatever mood had been boiling in her before. Irritation had become a friend of hers lately, one that visited unannounced and stuck around until she did something, anything, to kick it from her system until the next day; usually this meant training overtime. It was all she could do to stay sane, not blow up on Max or Dimitri or Ed or even Mister Spender. She'd been overly sensitive (for her, anyway), she knew it, she just didn't know why.

Isabel ran the towel over the roots of her hair, lips coming together to smile as she tilted her head back and enjoyed the feel of her nails massaging her scalp. She'd needed that.

Now to just figure out what she wanted to watch…

The familiar ring of her cellphone and the resulting vibration from her nightstand made her head whip around, eyebrow raising, smile forming, as she crossed her room to get to it, leaving her towel to hit the floor (she'd hang it up later). She almost hoped it was a mission, or maybe some kind of investigation job. She could use the fresh air.

Isabel grabbed the phone and snapped it open with one flick of her wrist, bringing it to her ear without looking at the number. "Hello?"

"What's up, my Iz-dog?"

She snorted. "Ed!" She raised a hand to stifle the little bit of surprised laughter, but she was sure he heard it anyway. "Hey! What's up?"

"Waiting around for training to start. Homeschool is not as fun as you'd think it would be. Not a single one of my teachers let me wear pajamas to class, and only one let me go back to bed when I was done with my work," She snorted again, but let the her laughter run free so he could hear it. He probably wanted to, was probably trying to make her laugh "and that was only because I accidentally threw a paper airplane at their eye."

"Ed."

"It wasn't my fault! Once those things are out of your hand, they are out of your hand. I had no idea a paper airplane would become an issue of class safety and not conduct."

She shook her head and plopped down on the side of her bed, leaning back to rest her hand on the other edge of her twin. "Any clue when you're coming to visit?"

"Uh," she could imagine him leaning against the wall of Master Hashimoto's training room, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, head lulling to the side the way it always did when he was tired. She was willing to bet he had less energy than before, now that he was actually putting effort into his training. She wondered if he had time to play video games anymore, now that he didn't have to go to and from Hashimoto's and Guerra's an hour both ways. He always had enough time to call her- once a day, no less. She was thankful, though she would have preferred seeing him in person. "Not sure! But I'm aiming to visit next weekend!"

"Really?" She shot up, then immediately clamped a hand over her mouth. That was too excited, too happy, too much. Her cheeks burned, but she kept her lips shut like she'd glued them. As much as she trusted Ed, as much as she knew he was a safe place and he would never, ever make fun of her… Isabel sighed and fell back against her comforter, a smile inching across her lips. "That's great! You know, you should bring your console back for the weekend. We never did beat that boss from-"

"Yeah!" He sounded as ecstatic as she felt, and it was a giddiness and a lightness she hadn't been accustomed to in a long time, enough that it unnerved her. "So, what's been up over there?"

She snickered. "Oh, I am so glad you asked…"

Isaac's phone was probably long dead by now. Max knew this.

It didn't stop him from staring at Isaac's contact information, squinting at it, hoping not-quite-consciously that there'd be some hint to go off of, some huge clue he was missing that could lead them right to him. There wasn't. Max shut his phone and let the hand hang leisurely over the side, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the urge to get up or go to sleep or something to hit him. All that came was unease, the sense that something was horribly, horribly wrong. It'd been that way since Isaac skipped town, but he'd managed to quash the feeling most of the day. It was just when nightfall came, and his dad was off doing whatever and Zoey was off doing something super-whatever, that he was left alone with his thoughts and that unease had a hand in all of them.

How was he eating? How was he drinking? Where did he sleep? Was he hurt?

Max groaned lifted his other forearm over his eyes, like blocking the light of his room would do anything. Those thoughts weren't daylight or nightlight manifestations and he knew it. They were always there, had been for the last month, beating on the back of his mind the way an annoying remix of a good song would stick with him.

And it all stemmed from the sinking feeling he had when he ran up the steps to that abandoned home and found only Doorman there.

I hurt Dimitri, could have hurt all of you, too.

I wanted you to hate me. I thought it was the only way to get you all to see me as something other than the club mascot…

Because I couldn't take the blame like I should have, I stepped way out of line and broke my own oath. Well, now I'm ready.

Max grinded his teeth, hand thrown across her face clenching.

I guess this is goodbye. Thanks for keeping me around while you did.

He rolled over to his side, making the decision to pass out before the unsettled hole is his stomach got any worse.

Meditating had gotten easier, way easier. He could balance without trouble nowadays, and Master Hashimoto rarely had to step in and readjust his limbs so that he was working his core more. He walked with a straight back more often than he slumped, and slept easier, too. The only issue laid with his concentration- it ran from him and often times he felt like a hunter down on his luck. Some days were better than others, but the last week had been… particularly grueling. He tried to keep his mind on Isabel, on the lessons he'd learned since joining Hashimoto, but his mind would wander, and he'd start to feel agitated, and then-

Ed yelped as something hard and hollow knocked him upside the head, knocking him right off the plank of wood. He landed on his chin, legs up in the air, waving around as he struggled to catch up with reality. Ed winced and pressed the palms of his hands against the floor, pushing himself to sit up on his knees, then raised one hand to the sore spot at the back of his head. So much for being balanced. "Ow! Hey! What was that for?"

Master Hashimoto stood towering over him from behind, looking gruff with the scrunch of his mustache and the unamused, narrowed look of his eyes.

Ed pouted at him, crossing his legs to sit more comfortably. Hashimoto came around to stand in front of him, placing the cane before himself and setting either hand at the tip of its shiny knob.

"You would not have fallen had you not already been unbalanced." Ed exhaled and leaned back against the plank of wood, hands gripping at his calves. Hashimoto tilted his head. "I sense there is something troubling you."

"It's one of the other students." He knew better than to keep things from his master. At best it would delay the inevitable, and he didn't care to go through so many emotional hoops for the second time that year. "She said that I liked Izzy, like, like-liked her. I mean, that's ridiculous! I grew up with her! She's like a sister to me!"

Hashimoto hummed, fingers brushing against his long, flowing beard, which Ed often joked with the other students looked more like a well-groomed dog's tail- a show dog, the kind that got paraded around.

"Well, Ed, if you were confident in that, you wouldn't still be thinking about it."

No. Not him, too. Not even the freaking master!

Ed parted his lips to say something, but whatever was heating the blood under his cheeks was doing a good job of clogging his throat, too, and he dropped his pointed finger and clamped his mouth shut.

"Suzy."

"Hmm?"

"Maybe you should lay off on the tea" Collin said this as he poured her another cup.

Suzy took it in grateful hands, then tilted it up to take the smallest, innocent sip from its rim. It was black breakfast tea, her favorite, and she took it bitter more often than not, no cream or honey or even a small bag of splenda. "It's calming."

"It's caffeinated, just like coffee, and you've downed, like, ten mugs of it."

Suzy grunted and raised one hand to wave him off, which Collin granted with a roll of his eyes, retreating to the desk to set the eighth thermos down, mumbling to himself about the rush of energy he was awaiting with no great excitement. Suzy, on the other hand, was far more preoccupied with the taste, taking a moment each sip to roll the flavor on her tongue before taking another sip and repeating. She had to concentrate on that. Had to.

There was a knock at the door, and they both lifted their heads, momentarily distracted from the nothingness that was their schedule, and looked at it.

"Collin-"

"Already on it."

Suzy sighed and went back to sipping her tea. The journalism club hadn't gotten any visitors, not that she was surprised. Nobody had taken her up on her offers to publish their personal watched-my-life-flash-before-my-eyes story, and Collin had informed her multiple times on multiple occasions that they never would; though she'd been stubborn to admit it, Suzy had come around to admitting that Collin might have been right, and maybe people didn't want to relive that sort of thing for a school newspaper. She doubted it was a story at the door, and even if it was, the school didn't seem to be keeping up with club hours anymore- not since the monster attack.

She took another sip, though she swallowed without tasting it first.

Collin opened the door and- surprise, surprise- Maxwell Puckett stood on the other side, one of Suzy's posters, the ones for Isaac, in hand, and held it up to his face. She blinked. "Hey, Max."

"Hi, Suzy. Quick question." He wriggled the poster around, glancing over her curled form almost sardonically with a twitch in his eye. His posture was stiff, like he was sore and he was trying not to move too much or he'd hiss, and his fingers seemed to have long-since wrinkled the top edges of the poster- a sign he was gripping it tighter than need be. "What good is this doing, exactly?"

Suzy huffed and set the mug down, setting her feet, which had been curled with her in the chair, to the floor as she stood up, patting out her shorts. "Well, it's something."

Collin sighed and let Max in, shutting the door behind him with a narrowed, almost annoyed, look on his face. "Do yourself a favor and don't get her started on that."

"I already told you guys. He's not in Mayview anymore!"

"Well, do you have any better ideas?

"No! But wasting this much paper" Max shook the poster around for emphasis "probably isn't helping anyone!"

Suzy balled her fists, rage coiling in her, heat rushing to her face and her hands and her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, back, just to defend herself and what she was doing, but Collin slipped a hand over her lips; against her better judgement, she let him silence her. He sighed, and glanced between herself and Max until he was sure he had the attention of both. "Okay, how about we all just agree that these posters aren't really helping," he looked at her, and she leveled him with a glare "but it's all we can do" He looked to Max, who scowled and glanced to the floor, lips thin.

After a moment, Max's eyes met hers, and she saw an uncertainty where before she'd seen irritation, a lack of confidence she didn't think she'd ever seen in Maxwell Puckett before. Though he hid it well, his jaw clenched, and she could feel his aura looming over them, even if she couldn't see it. It was an itch. His eyes drifted downward, to the poster in his hand, then to the floor again, and her eyes did the same. Collin lifted his hand from her mouth, and she mumbled. "How is Dimitri doing?"

Max blinked, eyes wider for a second as though surprised, but a small smile found its way to his face, even if it wasn't as genuine as he might've liked her to believe. "He's doing all right! He's fitting into the club like a glove!"

Suzy nodded and excused herself for a moment to get more hot, bitter tea.

Mayview was as sunny as she remembered it, though she'd always preferred it when the city was cold and overcast in the nigh of winter. Sometimes, when she had a moment to herself, she'd visit, like so. After all, she'd spent a great many years calling it home.

It was the place she hated most.

She brushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear, breathing in the scent of fall, which still smelled as she remembered it for Mayview- Pumpkin, a few days closer to expiration than one usually preferred, alongside the dull spices and the staleness of the cold air that'd always swept her into dreaming of snow days, though she knew they were months away. It was a feeling she'd known intimately for other reasons as of late, the anticipation of something coming, the drive that'd been motivating her so long.

Then the sight of Mayview from the tallest hill faded, and she found with no sense of distress that the world around her had become clustered with holes in the sky in shades of deep blues and purples and tears in shades of black only she knew existed.

"Catriona."

She hummed, but did not turn her head.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a toned chest where she could feel a familiar heartbeat against the hammering of her own. "Something is bothering you, my love."

"Whether they're willing or not" she frowned and nibbled at her bottom lip "I simply can't find it in myself to kill these spirits for the sake of our mission."

He hummed, sound similar to her own in its sweetness but deeper in its rumble. "It is for the greater good, you must remember that. They see the way you and I do." He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and a treacherous smile found her. "Though, I'd find it hard to believe anyone may resist you."

"Emmerich, you flatter me." She twisted in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and leaning into him. He was tall, taller than many men, though he stood like one, with claws round but sharp on each finger. His skin, though splotched with the same shades as his universe, was soft and felt as human as her own. She ran her hands over his head, one hand using its fingers to weave through the silk that was his cyan hair, wrapped in a horse tail. He smiled at her, and her eyes glossed over his black teeth. "We've already failed our first mission, what is to stop us from failing again?"

"Experience, my love" His hands squeezed her hips, a physical affirmation "and we did not fail. It may take more than one attempt, but it will be done."

She leaned up, and he leaned down, and she pressed her lips to his. There was no caution, no exploration- he was a part of her, and they knew each other better than anyone else.

Isaac winced as he laid down across another bus stop in what should have been another neighborhood. He was moving slowly, but that wasn't a problem when he had no destination. What is a problem is this cut on my arm. That spirit really took a swing at me. He glanced down at it, wincing as he took in the cold sting of blood, dying the material of his shirt a deep red. It'd stopped running a good hour ago, but it still stung like nothing he'd had before, and he'd have a hard time sleeping with it.

What was there to do about it?" He cautiously ran a finger over the wound, and hissed when the stinging multiplied. He'd have to steal bandages from somewhere. But where? A hospital? He couldn't do that! Other people, possibly worse off than him, needed those bandages and needed that ointment, and he couldn't very well walk into the clinic. That came with a mass of questions he wouldn't be able to answer, or even begin to think about answering. Isaac sighed and leaned upwards. He'd just have to figure it out come the morning.

Cheesesteak subs were a gift from God to men, and there were few things Spender was so vehemently convinced of. Day seemed equally as enthralled with her food, and she chomped more than happily into their late lunch- his treat. It was a shame the meeting wasn't under less dire circumstances. Though each bite of his food was delicious, there was a sour taste to the back of his throat. Of course there would be something wrong, something he'd have to fix, and it would take time to figure out just how to go about doing that- which wouldn't have been so bad, had he ever been in Time's favor. Day looked up, and he met her with a smile, though he knew she couldn't see it.

"So, Mister Spender, have you found that missing student of yours yet?"

He paused before taking another bite, licking his lips because they suddenly felt dry, and sighed. "No, I'm afraid I haven't."

Day paused in her bite, too, a small frown forming on her face. Her brows furrowed, and she tilted her head. "Oh. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, it's fine." It wasn't. "Have you made any progress in your research? I know you've finished interviewing the student body recently. Did you find anything worth noting?" Perhaps it was too cut and dry, too to-the-point, but he needed to- had to- change the subject.

She blinked, and for a moment he thought he'd been too forward. Day's head tilted, and then she chomped into her sub, chewed, and swallowed hard before fixing him with a smile. "You trust me to be truthful?"

"Well, it's my school. I'll be finding out regardless."

"Yes, I suppose that's true! Hm hm!" She giggled and set her food down, using the napkin she'd set in her lap to wipe excess grease from her hands. "Especially with the magnitude of my findings."

His heart dropped. He'd been expecting something, of course, but he hadn't anticipated… well, something of great consequence. What could she have possibly gotten from a bunch of students scared senseless? "Oh? What did you find?"

"Well, the entire school, including your peers, Mister Spender, is traumatized."

Was that all? He exhaled, expelling all of the tension that'd strung up his neck and shoulders, let himself relax. "Oh, well, while that isn't good, it is what I expected. Trauma or not, we're going to have to come up with a really good excuse to explain why those things attacked our school" he looked to his sub, fingers tapping along the bun on either side "and what they were."

Day continued to smile at him, setting the napkin onto the table and leaning forward. "I'm afraid you won't have to make excuses, Mister Spender. We're well past that, unfortunately." He looked back to her, then, eyebrows furrowed, lips parting to ask for clarification. She set her chin in her hands, still, somehow, smiling even as the importance of her words hung over him, potentially like a guillotine. "From my findings, I've concluded that 70-80% of Mayview Middle have begun exhibiting early signs of paranatural ability."