Hey, guys. We're getting down to the last set of chapters. Probably four or five more at the most. Thanks for everyone's continued following of this, and thank you to those of you who review for doing so.

Random Citizen: I know, she's bitter, is she not? I can assure you Smack is not fine…not this time. :( Hm…guesses guesses…

All right, let's get on with this.

The Epic Battle Tournament

Part 2: Fall

Chapter 13: A Second Glance

Tournament Day 14

My breath swept through my throat, making it feel three hundred degrees. Swallowing helped a little. My head felt encased in concrete. Welcome darkness greeted my eyes. My eyelids felt engorged; blinking hurt. But the cool blackness made it more bearable. I felt a soft barrier on top of me, over my face, and softness underneath me.

Everything came flowing back. I breathed deeply, allowing the emotions to come—crippling sadness, bitterness, roiling rage—and breathed again. I had to figure out what was happening right now. If there was anything space had taught me, it was that survival was necessary, and thinking a luxury.

How long had I been out? Who'd put me in this bed? Experimentally, I clenched my abs a little bit—a prelude to standing up.

Pain…but…bearable.

I wanted air. One last deep breath before I whipped the covers back from my face and neck. Above me, familiar, white ceiling. Next to me, another bed. To my left, the window, curtains drawn. I was still in the same clothes, but something felt different- like bandages between my skin and clothes. Bracing myself, I swung my legs over the side. My back complained. All in all, though, more bearable than the pain with which I'd walked home.

I braced my hands on the bed, clenched my abs, and pushed up. Upright stance—yes. Wrapping my hand around the doorknob, I turned it, and it gave way easily—a mockery of the other doorknobs that hadn't turned…I felt pressure rise behind my eyes. No…no…just keep moving.

The living room held one sleeping form on the couch: one of the two who had murdered the Planet Jacker female. I leaned on the banister and surveyed the bottom floor.

Nobody.

Had the sleeping guy brought me inside? The chute and the floor underneath it were empty.

Stretching, I was about to go wake the guy on the couch when an opening door and the sound of rushing fluid downstairs caught my attention.

Lard Nar emerged from the bathroom into the foyer, looked up, and locked eyes with me. "Well. How did you sleep?"

Clearing my throat as best as I could, I struggled out something that halfway resembled a "thank you."

His lip curled as he made his way up the stairs. "Is that the best you can do?" I nodded. "That's pitiful. How are your organs?" He reached the top and studied me. "You look alert, at least. Although your eyes are more hideously swollen than usual."

I tried to hide my smile. Then, I looked towards the couch as a question.

"Who, him? He's harmless. He's just been sleeping. Wanna tell me what happened out there?"

I felt numb. My emotions were raging, but outside, I felt either exhausted, or just like I was trying to shake my mind back into feeling. This house felt strange...why didn't it feel like my house? Where was I supposed to be? Was I supposed to be doing something? My head just felt...strange. Strange.

"You know...you left us to fend with those people." Causticity, in Nar's voice—so sudden I turned to look him straight in the eyes. His expression had morphed into something angry. "They took us by surprise, and you drove off with Smack. I saw you. Did you know that you were leaving us to our deaths? That he—" An arm thrown towards the couch— "and I are the only ones left?"

My mouth opened slightly—more air cooled the inside of it. I stared at the couch, and back, and to the empty house. No.

Nar nodded. "Yes. And I still took the medicine for you. I didn't have any remedies of my own." His eyes shifted around. He folded his arms. "So you better thank me now."

I sighed, crossed to the couch, and plopped down. "Thank you."

"One other thing. They keep sending stuff. There are about twenty cookie cakes downstairs. And other stuff. I didn't want to chance throwing it away and getting blasted."

I paused and looked over the back of the couch at his pointed expression. Striving to keep my tone neutral, I asked, "Cookie cakes?"

A smirk. "They outsmarted the system, apparently. And the Jaggerions were too stupid to catch it until now. So just something to think about. "

I relaxed back into the couch. It was taking medicine. That was all. It didn't have to be a statement. My insides still felt empty.

As he disappeared down the stairs, I placed my face in my hands. Inside, I fought back tears. You can't ask me to forgive you. I won't. I needed you.

The image of a cookie cake popped into my head, I imagined how it would taste, and saliva pulsed into my mouth. Nausea rolled through me. I swallowed, exhaled, and closed my eyes as my head swam. Crawling back into bed, I tried to ignore the knowledge that I was dooming myself to another day without food or water. I didn't care.

I jerked awake. My stomach was in knots. The echoes of a bang rang in my head.

Another one sounded. The door opened quickly and Lard Nar stood there. "Will you please tell them to stop dropping things? I can barely think!"

I propped myself up on my elbow. "They've still been sending stuff?"

"Yes." It was more of a seethe.

…What a clinical waste of money.

What a statement.

"Tell them you don't want any of their crap."

My stomach was a gaping cavern. My throat was dry. That would be a lie.

I tilted my head back towards the ceiling. "I...I..." My eyes dropped. Lard Nar's narrowed and he folded his arms. Adopting a facade again, I forced the answer. "I don't want your support...stop sending things."

"Thank you." The Vortian leader turned, but faced me again. "It's day Fourteen. Sundown."

"…Thank you."

For a while, there was only silence. From beyond the door, no more thuds came. Part of me hoped I just couldn't hear them…the pain was immense. I took slow steps toward the couch and sank into it. Something moved in the corner of my vision, and I turned to find the other male looking at me from a lying down position on the other side.

"…Hey." His voice was soft, gentle.

I nodded without giving a response, fully cognizant of how impersonal I was being.

"I'm Corrin. What's your name?"

"…Hannah."

"How did you…?" He trailed off.

"I…" My eyes drifted, and my breath came more deeply into my chest as I sighed. "It's a long story."

He nodded, his expression understanding. "Okay."

"…Why are you being so nice to me? You murdered that other woman."

His expression changed—morphed—to something guiltier…more tortured.

Oops. Guilt twisted in my heart. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

Corrin shook his head. "I know what I did. I'm sorry. I just…I can't do this anymore." His voice grew more emotional.

I watched the TV, which was on a low volume, and nodded. "I know what you mean."

There was another rustle from downstairs.

"I don't know how they do it…" He continued, his tone close to tears. "All those universal leaders, sitting up there like it's nothing. I killed one female; and that fight in the alley…" He paused for the better part of ten seconds. I tried not to look at him too much, out of courtesy. "I don't know how they do it."

A stab of bitterness I hardly acknowledged. "I don't either."

"Carrots?" Lard Nar's voice came from the downstairs. "What are carrots? Do you want any?"

"Nar! I said no!" I wanted them. I wanted food.

"You're no good to the house if you can't even mo-"

"Leave me alone!"

"He's right, you know." I noticed, for the first time, a plate of food sitting on the table in front of Corrin. "You should eat. It benefits all of us."

"Humans can survive..."

"You know what?"

I jumped at the proximity of Nar's voice and turned to find him standing next to me. "I'm not taking any more of this 'poor me' garbage." Indignation rose in me as he leaned forward. "You said you weren't gonna do that anymore."

Grief for Smack, indignation, rage toward the Irkens all swirled inside me. "You think this is some kind of sympathy plea? To them?"

He grasped my wrist and pulled me up. "That's exactly what it is. I…" We froze. He squeezed the hand around my skin, and I realized I couldn't feel the contact. The metal. I stopped breathing.

Nar's green, goggled eyes looked into mine, and his mouth fell open the slightest bit. For a moment, we just stood there.

"…Stop," I said, almost desperately. "Stop. And I'll eat the food."

Nar slowly closed his mouth, blinked a few times, and then re-adopted that nonchalant look. "You'd better."

…He's…letting me off the hook!

We moved toward the stairs. My eyes found the pile of food items—most of them boxes—and raw impulse drove me to my knees in front of them. My stomach lurched violently. "...What's made you take their side all of a sudden?"

Nar rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I'm not taking anyone's side. It's just food."

I could barely think. "Three days ago, you would have rejected anything to do with them. You would have gone to the warehouse."

The sight of a hamburger, sitting there in the wrapper, stopped me. It would be so easy to unwrap, to eat the entire thing in five bites…

Smack…wouldn't he want me to eat?

Everything faded out of my wavering consciousness as I studied the mountain. Red…and Purple…sent all of this for me…constantly…from the Massive. They'd asked for forgiveness. I couldn't let go of what happened... my insides contracted.

"I can't," I said.

Nar was silent beside me.

My gaze accosted the cheeseburger on a stack of cookie cakes. My hands were around it, I was lifting it, paper flew off, and then…

Glorious substance in my mouth, exploding flavors: meat juice, still warm, coated everything. Allowing my eyes to drift shut, I devoured the thing in under a minute.

Those green eyes were watching me with slight rapture. "Gosh dang, adolescent."

There was another package—a sub sandwich. Opening the bread, I shoveled the contents—meat, cheese, juicy tomatoes—into my mouth and swallowed before I could chew them. The taste drove me wild. Corrin gently chuckled from upstairs. I was on my third glorious, glorious sandwich when Nar spoke. "Maybe you should save some of that for—"

Something rose in my throat, up, up, into my mouth. I held my hand over it, rose from my spot and ran towards the bathroom. I got past Nar and into the hallway before it came back up on the floor.

Lard Nar sighed, and then chuckled lightly.

Corrin laughed heartily. "That was great!"

It would have been for me, too, if my senses hadn't just been put through a blender. After I was done refinishing the floor, I righted myself and cringed. "…for later?"

This actually brought a sharp laugh out of Nar, and a wry smirk. "Yes."

I called to the ceiling. "That wasn't a statement!"

"We know." I could hear Nar's smirk. "Just eat at a reasonable pace and you'll be fine."

"Um…" I winced. "I'm…I'm sorry about the food." That was all the apology I was going to do on an empty stomach.

This time, I paced myself, and ate three sandwiches over the course of an hour. The taste of each individual food drove me crazy. I thanked them and made pleased noises whenever I bit into a cheeseburger that was perfect in every way. It was so satisfying to be filling up that cramped cavern called my stomach.

Even my slow pace left me on the upstairs couch, trying to think non-nauseating thoughts. I'd cleaned up the mess, but the scent had pushed me upstairs. Unable now to ignore the cookie cakes, I'd taken twenty or so upstairs. For the moment, I was alone in my room.

Looking around the bed at the boxes, I inhaled slowly, deeply, and slowly let it out. Stay calm. Remain calm. Smack…A wave of emotion. Stay…calm…

I was near my breaking point.

The first box I opened had a cake with white frosting writing. That's what Nar meant by 'outsmarted the system.' How clever...

The second was purple, and was signed by the Tallest at the bottom. After opening all the boxes, I decided to read a neutral yellow one first.

It was my job to watch your challenge. I want you to know I'm sorry. And we're all very proud of you.

Tenn

I realized how unready to forgive them I was and frowned. Why had it been Tenn's job? Why hadn't it been Red's, and Purple's…but, principally, Red's? I sighed. "Thanks, Tenn...I guess."

Feeling a pain in my chest, I reached for one with blue writing—anything but red and purple- and it was written in English. I froze.

They're honestly apologetic. You need to forgive and move on. Also, we're all watching you: your dad, Mer, me, Dib, and many others. We love you.

Dwicky.

Warmed, I reread the "forgive and move on" line. Ouch.

…How does he expect me to just "move on?" Does everyone forget about deaths like Smack's, like Ruza's, that quickly?—It's not right! Dwicky has to understand. Or maybe Dib does…this can't be right. I can't forgive them…I did care for the Irkens. I did. But…It was all so confusing.

I searched for another pie that wasn't purple or red; but there was just one. Curse their talkativeness…

Zim's cookie cake was written in standard magenta. I knew it was him because he, unlike everyone else, didn't save his signature for the end.

I am Zim! Though, that was expected. Never have I seen a human, or any creature, for that matter, turn down a mountain of food right in front of their faces! Recover your brain meats quickly before another catastrophe hits. And...mediocre job, I guess.

I wanted to chuckle, but could only sigh and grimace. What was with everyone's correcting me? Wasn't this supposed to be the part where they all comforted me and said how great I was and how awesome I was doing, and…? Or maybe we had just thrown all those cakes away. Having my human counselor correcting me as well wasn't thrilling. It was impossible for me to forgive them. Where was their compassion?

These are the Irkens. They don't have much compassion to start with.

Studying the cakes in front of me, I knew it would be incredibly rude to read everyone else's and not read theirs. That, and their persistence had been stirring something inside of me I'd been too preoccupied with hunger to address earlier. At the same time, what did I care about rudeness at this point? What did I care if they didn't like me?

I picked a purple one.

You probably won't read this, but we should have been watching the feeds while we were on Vort—we don't have an excuse for that. Tell us whatever you need- we have plenty of funds. Things are changing now… We're truly sorry.

That was nicer at first glance than even Dwicky's.

Things have begun to change? What things? In them? On other worlds?

"Thanks..."

Now...it was time for the hardest read. Uncomfortable, I half-looked at the red cake nearest to me.

...This is his handwriting. He didn't just dictate this. That perked my interest. It can't hurt to read just one, right?

If you would read these, I could express how sorry I am; but I'll stick with sending food. If you think we're going to stop because you said so, you're more delusional than I thought.

Well...fine then. I could understand his frustration, but it didn't mean I had to like it—or him, at the moment. I exhaled, some small weight lifted for having actually read them, and stopped looking at the cakes for a second.

I tried to identify the purpose in staying mad at them, and couldn't find one. It was exhausting on my conscience, hell on my emotions, and I knew I loved the Irkens…For some reason, I'd developed a notion throughout all this that everything was meant solely for my benefit: I'd only been worried about my own survival and concerned with what everyone thought of me, with a few exceptions: Diablo... But I couldn't live that way. I couldn't just pretend the previous year and all it entailed hadn't happened. Yes, regain my original identity apart from the Irkens; but not spitting in the face of everything we'd had. Expecting them to be truthful and then feigning this was hypocritical.

I sighed. This tournament was going to be over soon…with one result or the other. What was the use a grudge? Revenge? I could wreak a little emotional havoc, but the better part of me didn't even want to do that. There was no more point in that than Red killing Net, than Lard Nar capturing me…all of it was wrong.

Red, Purple, Zim and Tenn and the others. Not the most perfect family…with one hell of a baggage claim on their hands…but none of us are really any better than anybody else. I understood Diablo's words, then, and felt bad for thinking I was superior to Zim. Back at the conference, I'd thought he belonged in the kitchen and I didn't.

I needed to stop this performance.

Now.

I exhaled. "Okay…" Stared at the cakes. "Okay." I felt a familiar, dull burning behind my eyes. I wanted everything to go back to the way it had been…every sin aside. "I know the house wasn't your fault. I know you must have been busy. I'm sorry for rejecting the food. I just want to know what happened. I forgive you." Something lifted in my chest- something heavy. "I forgive you…I just wish I had known what happened. I really needed you." More staring at the cakes. "And I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. For everything."

As I pinched off a bit of yellow frosting, a voice invaded the space. "I can tell you what happened." I turned to find Lard Nar at my door. "You're not the only one who gets sponsor gifts. And mine were informational, as well."

I guessed the Vortians could afford it. "…Is this part of the reason you're all right with eating their food?"

A subtle smirk crossed his features. "Maybe."

I stared. "Okay. What was it?"

Nar walked into the room, sat on the opposite bed, and faced me . After pausing for a second, he said, "Vort and Irk haven't always been enemies..."

I'd heard this lecture before, but out of a different mouth. This time it was going to be different.

And that was okay.