It's literally the crack of dawn when I slink up the ladder into the loft, my shoes clenched in one hand.

"Geez—fuck!" I sputter. Evan is sitting on the landing, in mussed hair and his bedclothes. "Don't! Freak me the fuck out like that!"

A slow smile spreads across his face. "How was your evening?"

I throw my shoe at him.

He Wastes it away, into the wall, and is laughing softly as I hurry for the safety of my bedroom.

I take an hour or so to shower and dress myself in shredded jeans and a comfy grey sweater. When I come downstairs, Evan's packing himself lunch for the day.

"Work?" I ask. "On a Saturday?"

"I want money, let me live," he says. A ghost of a smile still lives on his face. "Are you gonna tell me anything about him?"

"Who?" I say coyly.

"The pretty ginger you wandered off with last night?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. When do you have work?"

"No changing the subject!" My brother laughs. "No, but seriously, he was almost criminally attractive. Carly showed me the pictures she took of you."

"It's—whatever," I remark. "You know I don't like talking about this. You're my brother, it's awkward."

"I'm also your premiere supply of condoms because you forget literally everything if I don't remind you first, but okay, fine then." He takes a big gulp of coffee from his checkered mug and makes an even bigger point of rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to judge you."

"I know! I just. Let me save my self-esteem here."

"Silvan, you attract the prettiest people. I really don't think your self-esteem is the issue."

"It is when you make me talk to you about it!"

"Fine, okay." He makes a big deal out of rolling his eyes. "Tell me when you're ready, I said I won't judge you."

Assuming I'll ever be ready to detail my most private affairs to my brother.

After Evan's gone, I fire up the stove and scramble myself some eggs. A lonely Saturday morning for me, after a not-so-solitary Friday evening. Days like these only happen sometimes, interrogation by Evan included.

After we left the party, Andore and I took a walk until the brisk evening weather had sobered me up, and then I took him toward the beach in the West of the city where you can see Satellite and the whole of the Daedalus bridge when it's clear out. After that, I followed him to his swanky hotel room downtown, and that was that. I guess his friends, or his teammates or whatever, were busy in the evening, too, because we stayed unbothered, and I never actually got to meet them.

Anonymity is what I want when I do these things, anyways. If I don't know somebody, it's easier to just slip out and away when it's all over. No strings attached. I don't know if I could ever find myself in a lasting relationship anytime soon. Maybe not ever. It's like I told Aki—I have a tough time really feeling anything.

After I'm done eating, I make myself a cup of coffee and sit down to finish the rest of The Clouds, one of the plays Audrey recommended to me. I don't know how long Evan's shift will be—or how long I'll be alone.

In the first hour of silence and solitude, I decide that I'm bored of sitting around and I go upstairs to change into some workout clothes. That's the only other thing to do that I can think of.

The gym I take classes at is uptown, in a sort of semi-suburban area on the edge of the business district. It takes me a little while to find parking, since I guess it's a popular idea to go work out on a Saturday morning.

Sometimes, I can't spend more than a half hour in the little room full of punching bags—sometimes it looks too much like Arcadia with its glass paneled doors and painted beige walls—but other times, it's kind of therapeutic. I take a few minutes to wrap my hands with tape, I tie back as much of my hair as will stay in a teeny ponytail at the nape of my neck, and I go to town.

I started taking kickboxing lessons two months ago. That's when the physician deemed it safe enough for me to start exercising regularly. Beforehand, my body was too fragile for it. She said it was a miracle that I hadn't already died of malnourishment while in Arcadia.

At the very least, I can eat three square meals a day now without having to worry about keeping it all down. I can count days every month in anticipation of my period, which happened for the first time ever those two months ago, and though I'm not sleeping as much as I probably should be, I do feel better. I can still see my ribs if I look at myself carefully in the mirror, but they're not pronounced. I can suddenly do a lot of things that I couldn't less than six months ago.

I don't know how much time has passed before I kick my punching bag into somebody's outstretched hand.

"Whoa there." Crow peeks out from behind the bag at me. His hair's tied back, and he's wearing gym shorts. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Hi," I say, flexing my stiff, taped up fingers. "What's up?"

"Not much. I had to get out of the house and I figured I'd go running or something. Saw you through the window. You getting out, too?"

"Yeah, Evan had work and I didn't want to be home alone." I head for my things at the back wall, not too far from where we're standing, and reach for my water bottle. "Why'd you want to be out of the house? I thought Yusei had scheduled prototype time today."

Crow blinks at me. "Oh shit, yeah, you weren't there last night."

"What do you mean?"

"After those big dudes came crashing into the party on their fucking tank, we all went down to get our duel runners to try and help out with chasing people away, and some dude showed up. He knew Yusei somehow, knew about the Ghost thing…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I interject. "'Some dude'?"

"Yeah. Tall as hell, wearing a visor. Called himself 'Dark Glass'. But, anyways, he challenged Yusei. Told him he had a secret solution for Yusei's whole Synchro predicament."

"That… sounds fake."

"No, yeah, I know, but the crazy thing is, he did this summoning thing that wasn't exactly a Synchro. Called it something weird—'Accel' or something. Anyways, Yusei's been pacing around over it all morning. I don't think he slept last night."

"Unsurprising."

Crow runs a hand through his hair. "Where, uh. Where did you go?"

"Oh, I…"

"Because, I, ah. I'd be lying if I said Yusei wasn't peeved about that, too."

I snort. "I'm sorry, he didn't want to talk to me last night. And I wanted to have a nice time."

Crow's face brightens a little. "Well, did you?"

"Yes."

He raises his eyebrows at me and doesn't even try to shove down his grin. "There a significant other we should know about?"

"No," I say coolly.

After a pause, he says, "Huh. You didn't strike me as a hit-it-and-quit-it type of girl."

"I don't think you're the only one I've surprised."

"Who, uh, who else is in the loop about that?"

"Evan. And Aki found out on a whim."

"Nice." He taps a playful punch against my shoulder. "Carly was showing Jack those photos she took of you and the guy. They're nice."

"I'll bet. We posed and everything. Also, what right does Yusei have to be pissed at me? He basically gave me the cold shoulder last night and wouldn't tell me why."

"He met the guy you were out with. He's, uh… he's actually pretty famous."

"Look, I don't wanna know anything about him. That's sort of the point of a one-night-stand. And Yusei can stick it, I'm allowed to have fun at a party I was invited to."

"Okay, I get it, I get it."

"I know Yusei's having a rough time. I tried talking to him. But I can only do so much, especially when he won't let me listen."

"Yeah, I know he's being tough. But, to be real?" Crow wrings his hands together. "Sure, Jack and I talk with him a lot more now, but it's not the same as it was. It's not ever going to feel or be the same, and I almost want to say that he's never going to really talk to us ever again. He… he talks to you more now than he ever talked to any of us. Even back then."

"I don't… know how to help him," I confess. "We're not all that similar."

"Seriously? Yeah you are."

"I'm surprised he doesn't seek out Evan more often. He and Evan were friends the longest."

"The two of you went through something together," Crow says. "Something none of the rest of us were part of. It makes sense to me that he'd feel the most comfortable with you after all of it."

I shake my head like I can shimmy out of the funnel of memories Crow's words bring back. Arcadia and Satellite and all those times we delivered each other. "So, did you come here to talk or to work out?"

"I dunno. Maybe both." He grins. "Teach me how to kickbox!"

"You already know how to fight, dumbass."

"Not formally. Come on, teach me!"

"Fine," I grunt, heaving myself back onto my feet. I set my water bottle back down next to my hoodie and fumble around for my trainer's tape. "Give me your hands."

"Sick, I get tape."

"Yeah, it keeps your hands from swelling." I curl his palms in thick strips of white gauze, and when I'm done, he flexes his fingers as if testing how stretchy the tape is. "I can trust that you know how to punch, right?"

"Oh, yeah, come on. Give me more credit here."

"Okay, okay, okay. So start with your stance," I say. I fall into my own in an attempt to provide a visual aid. "Sit back in your pelvis like this, weight on your back foot, but be ready to shift it a lot. Are you left or right-handed?"

"Right," he says, copying me.

"Okay, so then you might be orthodox. Does that feel right?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"All right. You lead with your left. Left foot, left hand. And you hold them like this."

"Like this?"

"A little lower. You keep your shoulder up just a bit more to protect your face when your fists aren't doing that for you."

"Gotcha."

"Now, your leading punch—" I extend my left fist, "—is your left jab. Watch how my arm twists in the follow-through, and be careful not to overextend it or else you'll hurt yourself."

He copies me, and together we jab the air a few times before I draw a little further away from him and demonstrate a right cross.

"Make sure you always snap back to this stance," I say. "And you can't be too rigid, or else you'll go down easier and it'll be too hard for you to move."

"Okay. Okay, I think I got it." He raises his fists up playfully in front of his face. "Show me what you've got," he says, a cheeky grin lighting up his face.

"Really? We haven't been at it for all that long, are you sure you—"

"Aw, c'mon, I can take you!"

"Okay," I retort. "You can tap out at any time."

"Ooh, she's confident."

I settle back into my stance, fists up, and take a couple seconds to breathe before I spring forward. To his credit, Crow's pretty good at blocking blows. The duel gang street-fighting experience definitely shows in him. But he's also easy to read, much easier than any of the traditional fighters that spar in my classes, and though he's pretty good at blocking my jabs and crosses, a fake out and a side kick sends him spinning toward the punching bag.

He makes this little surprised sound, grins, sees me stalling for him, and says, "No, keep going! Do it for real!"

I mutter an "okay" and come at him again with a couple of jabs and, eventually, a hook kick that throws him to the ground with a heavy 'thunk.'

The sound makes me flinch, and I hear myself say, "Oh my gods, Crow? Are you okay?"

He's… laughing? He lifts his head a little; his arms are spread out on the mat. "Hey, that was fuckin' cool."

I breathe out the sudden pressure in my chest and plop down onto the mat next to him.

"You're pretty good, Silvan," he says. "How long have you been at this? Two months?"

"Yeah. I practice a lot, though. And the teacher says I'm a pretty quick learner."

Crow rolls onto his stomach with a grunt. "Yeah, I'll bet." After a moment of silence, he says, "Why kickboxing?"

"Hm?"

"Why'd you pick kickboxing? As a new hobby?"

Unthinkingly, I say, "So the next person who puts their hands on me loses them."

It takes me a second to look at him after I process what I said, and I'm expecting something like surprise, but he just nods at me grimly. "Good. You deserve to do that."

Crow is as blunt as me. And his lack of surprise over who I've become in these six short months is like a breath of fresh air.

I teach him to spar a little more for maybe an hour, and when we're both standing on wobbly legs, I follow him home to the square. Before we part ways, though, I invite him over for lunch, because it's likely I'll still be alone in my apartment and because I just like talking to Crow.

I stumble into Aki, who looks like she's been knocking on my front door for a while.

"Hey, uh, what's up?" I say.

She starts and flushes pink. "Oh! I… didn't know you weren't home." She fumbles with her phone, probably to check the time. "Evan must be out, too, then?"

"Yeah. Let me put Hiraeth away, you can come with me through the back door."

We head in through the back garage door together, and Aki picks her way around me putting Hiraeth away to go toward the couch. There's a couple seconds of weird silence before she suddenly squeaks, "So! You went home with that guy from last night?"

I groan. "Is literally everybody going to ask me about that?"

"What? Everybody saw you, Silvan, and you didn't exactly pick the least-known contender—"

"I told Crow earlier, I don't want to know anything about him! It's—easier that way!"

"Oh, so Crow knows, too?"

"I mean, everybody probably knows now!" I roll my eyes. "Apparently everybody saw us, right? Are you only here to try to pick at me about it?"

"No, I—I mean. Yesterday was weird, and an apology didn't really cut it…"

"Why are you here, Aki?"

"Why—didn't you trust me enough to tell me about it?"

"It's just... It's private. I didn't think anybody wanted to know. Much less that they should."

"Are you joking? Of course I should know if my best friend is sleeping around, I want to be sure you're safe!"

"I'm perfectly fine," I say. "Where I sleep and who it's with isn't anybody's business."

"That's not what I mean, I just—ugh, what do I mean?"

I tear my ponytail band out and run a hand through my hair. "Yeah, I don't know either. And I do know how to take care of myself, Aki."

"I—know."

"So what's the big deal?"

"I just." She sighs. Puts her head in her hands. Her voice comes out muffled by her fingers. "I don't get it. I want to get it, but I don't. I have so much trouble figuring out how I feel, so… so how can you do things like that so easily?"

It's my turn to sigh. "All right, I gotcha." I sink down into the couch next to her. "We aren't the same, Aki. You know that."

"Yeah, I know…"

"You and I are going to have different ways of coping. I told you, I don't… I honestly just don't feel things. Not like I used to, if I ever did."

"But, still! How… how can you…"

I put my arm around her. "It's tough to explain. But I can just—I can feel wanted without having to get attached to anyone. Aki, if this is about—"

"I. I wish I could be like that. I can't stop feeling so much, and it's… It just hurts all the time. I don't know. I don't know why I'm upset. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. And, honestly, not feeling isn't as great as you're making it out to be. I'd rather feel shit any day than keep being all empty."

"I'm so… angry. At Divine. For doing this to us."

I rub her shoulder. "I know."

"I… I didn't tell you about it yet, because, well… we haven't really talked recently. But I decided that I'm going to testify for Misty."

"...oh."

"If he's getting what's coming to him for all he did," she says, "then I want to be part of the reason why."

"...I still have to think about it," I say.

"I know." She breathes out slowly. "I just. I can't be this way forever. I refuse to. I want to get better, and it's been almost half a year, but I feel… I don't feel different. At all."

"Me neither, really," I murmur. "But we're trying. Aren't we?"

"I guess." A second passes before she says, "I wanted to ask you, um. About Yusei."

Some feeling I can't quite place tremors up my spine. "What about him?"

"I still don't know how I feel. If… if whatever I'm feeling, that is, if it's real. I get these feelings all the time, every time somebody gives me attention or—or takes an interest in me, but I don't know. Maybe it's a side-effect of feeling too much, but I'm kind of scared."

"I could have sworn you hated him three months ago."

"I mean. Yes? I don't know. I hated him because he took me out of my comfort zone. He acted like—well, like he knew us. Psychics. Just because he knew Evan, and… and because he acted like he knew you, too… I don't know. When I think about it now, it's all jumbled up. But when I look at him, I just… don't know." she slides down a little on the couch. "I feel all light inside. And I don't know what it means. If I like him, or if I like what he did…"

"I don't think I follow what question you're trying to ask," I confess.

"I—I want to learn to ride a duel runner," she blurts.

"...uh. Are we… still talking about Yusei?"

"I mean, he's not the only reason I want to learn," Aki says. "Yesterday, when we were looking for him on the highway, after we found him, one thing just led to another, and I had to ride with him in a turbo duel."

"Okay…"

"My point is, it was different than a standing duel. Different than watching a turbo duel. Different than I imagined, I mean. A good different. And I do want to learn because of that, but I also… I want to learn to… to…"

"To try to get in his head," I say slowly.

"Maybe? I mean, maybe if I can learn to ride and learn that way that turbo duelists think, maybe I can… I don't know. Figure myself out. Figure out if these feelings are real, if there's something grounding them."

"I guess it'll be another thing for you guys to talk about. And, I guess I could probably try to pick his brain for you." At the look of alarm on her face, I add, "Subtly!"

"I don't know about that yet! I'd just, um… like to take it a step at a time. All of you ride, and it's like… I don't know, you all sort of understand each other more than I can. Even you and I share so much, but I can't get near you on that level. If I can understand you all as a turbo duelist, too, maybe I can figure myself out. I can figure him out, and if this is really something or if I'm just projecting..."

"Right," I say. "That's perfectly all right. Actually, you know what? You should ask him to teach you!"

"Wh-What? I mean, I was going to ask you to do that—"

"Well, sure, I could help, but if you try to learn from him, you'll spend more time together. He's a much better rider than me, anyways. And I'm sure he'd be happy to help you."

"Uh, maybe?"

"Yeah, you could go see if he's home. Start right away. I mean, you'll need a duel runner, and probably some better riding clothes…"

"And—and you think he'd be happy to help?"

"Of course. He's been touchy as of late, but he doesn't bite. And being your teacher will probably be a welcome change of pace."

"Oh. Yeah," she mutters.

I pull her to her feet. "Come on. Go for it. I'd, uh, go with you, but Crow told me he's a little peeved about Andore."

Aki's cheeks flush pink. "What. What was it even like?"

I sputter with laughter. "Do you want a demonstration?"

Her shoulders seize and the color in her cheeks darkens. "O-Okay! Okay, I'm going!"

I'm still laughing as she breezes for the front door, outside, and straight past Crow, who looks like he was just about to knock.

Crow pokes his head in the door. "Why did, uh, Aki look as red as her hair?"

"Innuendos," I say. "I have all sorts of stuff I could make, and also leftovers. Come help me decide."

Crow scoffs a little and makes his way down toward me. "What, she faint-hearted?"

"Who, Aki? Probably just a little sheltered. Senator dad, homemaker mom, you know?"

"No sex ed in Arcadia?"

"Just abstinence 'til you die, my friend."

"So you're the outlier?"

"I just read a lot," I say, grinning.

He shakes his head. "I'm surprised a girl that looks like her hasn't had more partners."

"Any," I clarify. "She hasn't had any."

Crow's jaw drops. "You're joking!"

"Your queue of people-who-want-to-date-you shortens if you're known for your supernatural powers, pal."

"People are fucking stupid."

I smile at him. "Why don't you ask her out, then?"

He chuckles. "Your queue of people-who-want-to-date-you shortens if you're marked as a criminal, pal."

"All right, fair enough, fair enough."

After a second, he says, the smile gone from his voice, "Besides, a girl like Aki probably wouldn't look my way if I were the last person on Earth."

"Oh, come on."

"Nah. If I could be self-deprecating for two seconds, I'm never anybody's first choice."

"Well," I say thinly, "people are fucking stupid."

That brings a hint of a smile back to his face. I go digging into the fridge to look for something for us to eat, all the while imagining what it would be like if I could successfully play matchmaker for any of my friends.