A/N: Glad to hear you guys enjoyed the omake last chapter, although I can't take all the credit for it. It was my beta who demanded that it be put in there. Unfortunately, this chapter doesn't have an omake, but the next chapter should have some lightheartedness in it to make up for it.

Review Responses:

cherrishish, thanks for the review! Glad you liked the chapter and the omake!

pokelover01, yeah, Maka and Soul have kind of been through a lot this past chapter, although unlike the other characters, it's been mostly off screen for them. I'm glad you liked the chapter and liked everyone's responses. Yeah, Clark is finally stepping up and taking action, which I'm pretty glad about too! Thanks for the review and enjoy the chapter.

Diana Raven, thanks! I'm glad you liked it!

karma88, haha, if only that could be true. It would be the dream. I'm flattered that you think that, though. Thanks for your review, and enjoy the story!

Anonymous Person, thanks! Again, I can't take all the credit for that scene, as my beta was the one who insisted that the chapter needed it. Hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks again for the review and support!

pokemon73, thanks so much! Glad you enjoyed it, and thanks for the noodles~

Guest, he is indeed very protective over Morgan, and you'll soon learn what happened to Morgan's mother~ And Maka is holding herself together with the knowledge that if the Morrigan needed the twins badly enough to kidnap them in that way, they're probably still alive (it's very small comfort, but she needs it right now). Thanks again for the review, and hope you enjoy the chapter!

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Time for Action; All for One!

When the sun rose the next day, light filtering through Vayne's bedroom window, it felt like a different world. He blinked his eyes in the sunlight, staring up at the ceiling as he considered how he felt. It was just a little after dawn, earlier than he was used to waking up on a Saturday, but somehow, he didn't feel tired. Instead, he felt a restless sort of energy bubbling through him, an urge to act, to do something instead of moping around for another day. He lay there for a few more moments, listening to the silence of the world around him, before he sat up, realizing what he had to do.

The raven squawked at him from the desk as he reached for his phone beside it, fixing him with a baleful stare. Vayne had turned the ringer off yesterday, not wanting to be disturbed, but now he paged through his messages and notifications, frowning. Aside from a message from Jonas about some sort of 'emergency meeting', a few missed calls from Clark and a handful of scattered messages from people in class who were asking about Morgan, there was nothing of interest. He set the phone back down and glanced at the raven.

"I'm going to have to go check on her, huh?" he asked.

The raven let out another caw, eyes still fixed on him. Vayne nodded, expecting that, and then as an afterthought slipped his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at himself in the mirror.

One way or another, he thought, frowning at the disheveled figure that looked back at him, it was going to be a long day.

He stepped outside, heading down to the kitchen. To his surprise, Clark was already there, sitting at the table with a mug of coffee and some half-eaten toast in front of him. He was bent over the notebook he used to record class affairs, scribbling something down with a frown. His phone, lying next to him, buzzed and chimed with regularity.

"Morning," Vayne said, making his way to the fridge.

Clark looked up in surprise, blinking at Vayne from behind glasses that had slid down the bridge of his nose. "You're up early," he said.

"Could say the same about you," Vayne pointed out, pulling out a carton of milk and reaching into the cupboard for a box of cereal. He shook the box, frowning at the rattling noise that came from inside it, and emptied the remnants of it into a bowl. "Busy morning?" he asked, pouring the milk.

"You could say that," said Clark, wincing as his phone chimed again. He tapped at the screen, looking through the message quickly before letting the screen go dark. He had no sooner turned back to his notes when another notification rang out. Vayne frowned at him, setting his bowl down on the other side of the table from Clark.

"Well, look at you," Vayne said. "Mr. Popular again?"

Clark smiled at him weakly, looking back at his phone. "I wish," he said. "I'm in touch with the other class reps. We're trying to make sure we're all on the same page."

"Same page?" Vayne asked, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. Around a mouthful of Deathly Charms, he asked, "What for?"

"The usual things," said Clark, rubbing at his eyes from behind his glasses. "Making sure we know where all of our students are, whose out on a mission, when they're getting back. Who's bullying and being bullied, who looks like they might be a target. That sort of thing."

"The teachers asked you to do all that?" Vayne asked, surprised.

Clark shook his head. "The teachers haven't said anything, but they're all busy trying to figure out this whole thing with Morgan. We figured we'd help where we could." He paused over his writing, looking up at Vayne. "You're looking a lot better, by the way. Are you feeling okay?"

"Fine," Vayne lied, "Never better." It was an obvious lie, but there was a little bit of truth to it. He was done feeling sorry for himself. He swallowed another oversized bite of cereal, then looked at Clark. "So, you have some time today?"

Clark frowned, but looked up from his notebook, ignoring another message on his phone as he studied Vayne. "Why?" he asked, after a few long moments. "Have anything in mind?"

"I was thinking we could head down to Morgan's place," said Vayne. "I'm worried about Cassie."

Clark stared at him, holding his gaze for a long time. Then, just when Vayne was about to prod him for an answer, he nodded, lifting the cover of his notebook carefully and closing it.

Cassie and Morgan's apartment would have looked the same the last time Clark had seen it, had it not been for the ever-present cloud of gloom that seemed to surround it, an aura of misery that seemed to seep into the very stones of the street just outside. The curtains were drawn over the street-facing windows, and the inside of the house looked dark, empty besides the occasional flash of colored light that peeked out from behind the curtains. Clark, who was very much aware that a witch had inhabited this apartment up until now, was finding that this was the first time the place had actually looked like the sort of place where something magical and terrifying might live.

He paused on the sidewalk across the street from the apartment, glancing at Vayne. His partner eyed the flashing lights in the window with an air of calm determination, his frown deepening as he stepped forward. Clark hurried to follow. They were halfway to the Cassie's door when the door to the building's stairwell opened, a harried-looking young woman in heels and a business suit stepping out.

"Finally," she said, seeing them. "You're friends with the students that live on the first floor, aren't you? Do you think you can talk to them about the noise? It's—it's a stressful time at headquarters right now, and I'd really like to get some sleep when I'm home."

"Noise?" Clark repeated, frowning.

The woman shrugged. "Rattling and scraping," she said. "Sometimes the walls shake. It feels like the old building's falling apart.

He and Vayne exchanged a glance as the woman walked past him, heading towards the DWMA. Vayne eyed the door, his expression grim. Before Clark could do anything, he stepped forward, walking up to it. Clark hurried to follow, reaching the front door at the same time as Vayne did. His partner reached out, ringing the doorbell. There was no answering chime from inside the house, no ringing sound that heralded their arrival. Vayne frowned, then rang the doorbell again.

Silence. Clark glanced down at the button, then peered up through the darkened windows.

"Maybe the power's out?" he suggested.

Vayne didn't respond, but reached up, banging somewhat forcefully on the door.

"Cass?" he called. "Cassie, are you in there? It's just me. I want to talk."

There was no response. Vayne tried the doorknob. It rattled uselessly in his grip, locked.

He and Clark exchanged a glance.

"Don't class reps have a way to get into people's apartments if they need to?" Vayne asked.

"We can request the master key," said Clark, already walking up to the window. He tried to peer in through the glass, but what little he could see of the apartment from the gap between the curtains told him nothing. It was dark inside, and there was no Cassie to be seen. His stomach roiled for a reason he couldn't name, and he looked back over his shoulder at Vayne. "Only if it's an emergency, though."

Vayne tilted his head in the direction of the door, as if to say that this qualified as an emergency. Clark's eyes flicked uncertainly to the DWMA, visible in the distance.

"I'd have to go up to the school," he said. "I'd need to go through one of the staff, maybe even Shinigami-sama."

He knew even as he said it that there wouldn't be any point. The teachers had been reclusive over the past few days, tied up in staff meetings or running off on secretive assignments. There was a reason why he had taken it upon himself to organize the E.A.T. classes. Even if he did manage to find a staff member and get the key to Cassie's apartment, it wouldn't be doing Cassie any favors. The incident would go on her record, and he knew that the whole school was already talking about Morgan, spreading rumors and insinuating things about Cassie. He knew firsthand just how devastating rumors could be.

He placed his hand on the door, trailing his fingertips across the wood, considering his options. When he looked up at Vayne, he could see in his partner's eyes that Vayne already knew what he would choose. Feeling a little desperate, Clark turned back towards the door, knocking on it hard.

"Cassie?" he asked. "It's Clark. We're both worried about you. If you don't answer, we're coming in, okay?"

He waited. There was still no response, although the lights in the window flickered an uneasy shade of purple. Clark drew back from the door, taking a deep breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, then extended a hand towards Vayne.

"Quick and clean," he said.

Vayne nodded, transforming without a word. Clark gripped the pendulum blade with one hand and turned, swinging it diagonally upward across the door. The blade sliced through the wood easily, stopping just before it touched the doorframe. The two halves of the door clattered to the ground with a crash, and Clark looked back at the street with alarm, but there didn't seem to be anyone around to try and call security on them.

Which was good. Clark didn't think that Mifune-sensei or any of his staff would be particularly pleased to see them right about now.

He stepped over the ruined halves of the door as Vayne took on his human form again, stepping into the dark apartment.

Clark stared. The apartment around him seemed to have—for lack of a better word—melted, the walls taking on a liquid quality as they warped and glittered around him. A narrow winding passage extended from the front door, a hallway that hadn't been there before. The wallpaper flickered in eerie shades of violet and green, and the floor had a spongy quality, as if he were standing on foam.

"Cassie?" he called.

There was no answer, just a shimmering across the walls that reminded him of some glowing lichen that he had seen once in a cave. He looked back at Vayne, who was now eyeing the narrow passage ahead of them with an expression of uncertainty, the color draining from his face.

It was like the haunted house, Clark realized, looking over the twisted landscape. It was like the haunted house they had made for the Death Festival their first year, except chewed up and put into a blender.

"What the hell…?" he heard Vayne say from behind him.

Clark looked over his shoulder, about to tell Vayne that he didn't have to go into the house, that he could stay and watch the door, but Vayne drew himself up to his full height before Clark could, staring at the passageway with a sort of steely determination in his eyes. He strode forward, stepping into the dark corridor, and Clark had to hurry to catch up with him. It was cold inside the passage, the temperature dropping by several degrees, and his breath started to mist in front of his face. A chill breeze moved through the hallway, whispers floating on the air with each gust of wind. As each whisper rang out, Clark saw Vayne shiver.

The passage twisted and turned, but it seemed to be moving in a straight line, just as their haunted house had. Not a maze, not truly, just a corridor that twisted enough to make it feel like one. The corridor widened a few feet ahead of them, like they were approaching a room, and Clark saw Vayne hesitate at the threshold before stepping in, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as though he was afraid of what they would find there.

But there was no horror waiting for them inside the room, no ghastly representation of one of the monsters they had created in the haunted house. Instead, the room was completely empty, devoid of anything but ghostly, translucent figures that moved across the room, acting out events with a sort of stilted, jerky quality, as though he were watching a series of pictures laid out in front of each other.

He blinked, realizing that he recognized the figures. And not just that, he recognized the scene.

Clark placed a hand on Vayne's arm. His partner jumped, eyes still squeezed tight. "It's alright," Clark said, trying to sound reassuring. "They're not ghosts, just memories."

Vayne hesitated, then slowly opened his eyes, looking around the room. Clark looked as well. In one corner of the room, the corner they were currently facing, stood the ghostly figure of Cassie, standing in a translucent representation of the DWMA's library. She had a pair of books in her hands. Behind her, not far from her, stood a ghostly representation of Clark himself, carrying a larger stack of books. They walked past him and through him, talking quietly, Cassie putting books away on the shelf and Clark passing them to her. It was one of his most recent memories of Cassie, the time that the two of them had spent a Saturday organizing the library.

But that was only in this corner of the room. In the other three corners, the same scene was playing out, set in the DWMA's library, but the particulars were different each time. In one corner, it was Ethan that stood there instead of him, holding books while Cassie put them away with a smile on her face. In one corner—and the heat rose to his face at this—Cassie was standing with her back to the bookshelf, arms wrapped around Clark's neck. He had his hands around her waist and was pressed up close to her, kissing her thoroughly. Clark quickly looked away, facing the last corner.

In the last corner, he was standing there red-faced, with his hand on the back of his neck as Cassie laughed at him and Ophelia stood beside him, one hand raised to her mouth to stifle a giggle. He stared at Ophelia, feeling something in his heart clench. Clark walked up to her, watching as she smiled at the ghost of him, watching as that ghost's face reddened some more, as he turned away from her. Ophelia placed a hand on 'his' arm, a gesture of familiarity that seemed to make his ghost-self relax.

Clark reached out with his real hand, his fingers passing straight through her cheek. There was nothing there, not even the sensation of cold to tell him that he was touching anything at all.

"What are these?" Vayne asked, his voice hushed as he walked up to him.

Clark glanced around the room, taking in the four scenes. One was a memory. The other three…

"Realities…" he breathed, suddenly understanding. He looked around the room with wide eyes, unable to fight a sudden sense of awe. "These are alternate realities. They're possibilities. They're…"

They're what could have been…he realized, his heart sinking as he looked back at Ophelia, as she laughed at him.

Vayne looked around the room again, and Clark saw the same sort of awe start to make its way onto his partner's face.

"Cass…" he breathed. "She can do that?"

"No idea," said Clark, reluctantly pulling his hand away. It took every ounce of will he had to turn away from Ophelia, but he managed it, letting his hand fall back to his side.

"Come on," he told Vayne. "We should go."

Realities flickered in front of him as he and Vayne made their way down the corridor, fragments of possibility gleaming in the half-light. He saw himself dancing with Ophelia on the night of the anniversary ball, saw a reality where she didn't break a heel, where she stayed until the night was through. He saw a reality where the two of them lay in the dispensary, beaten but alive, a reality where he'd decided to walk her home. He saw a reality where they were gathered for their first Combat Arts class again, but instead of Morgan and Cassie partnering up with them, it was Rhythm and Rhyme. He saw Mifune face them to teach class, then saw Mifune flicker and fade away, replaced by Ayame's mother, by Tsubaki. He saw threads stretching outward from that reality, grasping at another, bloodier image, of a younger Tsubaki cradling Mifune's fallen body, laying him gently to the ground.

He glimpsed realities where Rei had died—after the fight with Grayson, after his encounter with Micah. He saw Maka-sensei and her husband grieving, garbed in black, more times than he cared to. He saw Morgan approaching Cassie on the first day of class, saw the hesitation on Cassie's face as Morgan extended a hand to her, and then the whole world rewound itself and it was him standing in Morgan's place, offering the same hand.

He saw a world where the DWMA didn't exist. Where it lay shattered, dashed to the ground, and the only thing that existed was a world of darkness and pain. A world of fear. He saw a world where he had gone mad, a world where he had killed Ophelia. He stared at that vision of himself for a long moment, stared at the emptiness and the darkness in his eyes, the energy crackling from the tips of his fingers.

Vayne had to drag him away.

It was enough to make his head spin. There were too much, too many possibilities. Too many branching off points, too many things that could have happened in the past that would have changed everything.

And then they made one final turn and emerged in a room, and Clark found himself staring at one final scene, one last reality.

Cassie was crouched in a corner of the room, her knees drawn up close to her chest. She had her eyes squeezed shut, her hands clasped over her ears tightly as if she was trying to stop herself from hearing things, although the room was silent. Shadows crawled across her skin, and Clark realized with a shiver that those shadows were words. They were endless, infinite quantities of them, all wriggling across her pale skin like snakes until he could barely see her.

The memory that played out in front of them was chaos, and Clark realized quickly that he was looking at their own reality.

Mifune-sensei stood alone in the center of a wide room, a warehouse somewhere, bodies strewn around him. The bodies were all clasping guns, a few of them staring up at the ceiling with wide, unseeing eyes. Swords lay scattered around the room, discarded, many of them stained with blood. As they watched, the ghostly figure of Mifune walked past the bodies, walking towards a closed door—

—and disappeared as he approached it, vanishing in a puff of white smoke as he reappeared in another corner of the room. There, a ghostly Cassie was huddled much the same way the real one was, hands clasped over her ears. Her eyes were open though, staring at Mifune in fear. Clark watched as the samurai came to stand in front of her, dropping his sword and crouching in front of her. The figure didn't move, but voices rang out in the room anyway, hushed voices from a time that couldn't possibly have been that long ago.

"…What's your name?"

A girl's voice replied, shaky with fear. "Index."

"Your real name."

"…Cassandra."

The echoes rang out, overlapping each other. Cassie's voice, Mifune's voice, and other voices, some of them gruff, others kind, all unfamiliar to Clark.

"Index."

"Cassandra…"

"The Grimoire of Reality…"

"There was another book?!"

"…The wife! Arachne, you goddamned genius!"

"…Cassandra."

"Cassandra…"

"Cassie!"

The last wasn't a memory. Clark blinked as the voices suddenly came to a halt, and he looked over his shoulder, realizing that Vayne had approached Cassie, realizing that he was crouched in front of her, that he had a hand on her arm and was gripping her tight. Cassie sucked in a sharp breath and opened her eyes, the room wavering for a second as they fixed on him. They were blue, wide, and terrified. Clark realized with a jolt that the words were in her eyes as well, flecks of black against the blue of her irises.

"Vayne…" she breathed, and then she was trembling. "Vayne, she left. She left me, Vayne. Everyone leaves. Everyone always leaves…"

"Shh…" said Vayne, reaching out and enfolding her in a hug. "Shh, I know…"

Cassie let out a hiccupping sob, grabbing onto Vayne tightly, her fingers clutching onto the back of his jacket.

"Shh…" Vayne said, and this time, Clark could hear his partner's voice quavering. "Shh…It's okay. I know..."

Ayame was released from the dispensary a full day earlier than Rei, after a final evaluation from a tired-looking Shelley Stein. Her own injuries were less severe than his, considering that she had been in weapon form for most of the fight. Rei had spent the afternoon, evening, and morning after her departure lying in bed and thinking, trying to gain as much information as he could about what was happening in the school outside of the dispensary walls, what was being done about the twins, and what would eventually be done about Morgan.

From the sound of it, though, he wasn't the only one without a clue.

It was just a little bit before sunset on Saturday when Professor Stein came into the dispensary, looked over him one last time and let him leave, with instructions to take it easy and try not to find his way into the dispensary again. His parents had come in shortly after, while he was putting his uniform jacket back on and grabbing his things. Without a word, Soul stepped forward, taking the backpack that had held a change of clothes and some homework from him and slinging it over his shoulder.

"We'll drive you home," he said, inclining his head towards the door.

His apartment wasn't a long walk from the DWMA, but Rei didn't argue. There were a couple of steep hills on the way to his place, not to mention the stairs that led down from the DWMA, and his whole body still felt like one big bruise. He rubbed absently at one of the bandages plastered to the side of his face, and moved to follow his parents.

Rei eyed them as they walked ahead of him, moving slowly through the DWMA's hallways. His parents weren't old, not even in their forties yet, but in some ways they looked like they had aged overnight. Neither of them looked like they had had much sleep in the past few days, and his father walked with his head down, the way he always did when overwork was making him grouchy. His mother had a distant look in her eye, as though she were already miles away.

I did this…Rei thought, feeling a pang of guilt that twisted his stomach. If he had just been a little stronger—but no, thinking that way wasn't going to help anyone.

Mordred did this.

That was a little bit better, but not by much. It was almost as though his heart knew what he was trying to do, knew that he was trying to distract himself from his own guilt by focusing on his anger for Mordred, and it wasn't having any of it. The anger took, but reluctantly, the rage hissing and sparking in his gut like a fire that was trying to catch on damp wood.

He felt angry, but he still felt guilty, and now the feelings were compounded by the fact that he also felt slightly sick.

"So…what happens now?" he asked, as they approached the DWMA's front door.

Maka and Soul looked back at him at once, a movement so perfectly timed that it was like it was coming from the same person. He saw their exchanged glances, saw the look that passed between them, the 'do you want to take this?', before Soul looked back at him.

"We can't really talk about the details outside the Death Room," Soul said. "But we're going to get them back."

"We think we know how to find them," said Maka, picking up the thread of the story as naturally as if she had started the conversation in the first place. "And…we have reason to believe that they're alright. They wouldn't have…have taken them that way if they didn't need them."

Silence followed her statement, heightening the grim mood that had settled over them as Rei picked his way carefully down the steps. The fact that the Morrigan needed the twins was small comfort. There was really only one thing that she could possibly need them for, only one thing that made Annie and Cori more special than any of the many, many Demon Weapons that inhabited Death City.

Annie. The black blood.

Soul had it too, had passed it on to her, if Stein's theory for how Annie had gotten it was to be believed, during a somewhat ill-advised Soul Resonance with Maka before they even knew that they were having more children in the first place. But Annie had been born with the black blood. It was all the blood she had, and as a result, it was much purer than anything the Morrigan might have been able to get out of his father.

And much more potent, which would explain why she had taken Cori as well.

He thought about mentioning his suspicions to his parents, but there wasn't any point. They would already know. Rei thought about what exactly the Morrigan might need the black blood for. A chill crawled up his spine.

"Can I help?" he asked.

Maka shook her head, not looking back at him. "Not yet," she said. "When we know more, maybe. But if we can help it, we aren't getting the students involved this time."

So I'm supposed to sit here, Rei thought, but didn't say it. And be useless.

Instead, he asked about the other thing that was on his mind.

"What about Morgan?"

Maka drew in a deep breath. He saw from the look she exchanged with Soul that neither of them particularly wanted to bring this up, but after a moment of silence, she spoke anyway. "She…we'll need to bring her in for questioning when we find her. If she hasn't done anything wrong, she won't be harmed, but…the Witch Assembly probably has a few questions for her as well."

His heart sank. He thought about Morgan, thought about the look in her eye when she left, the grief there.

"Morgan didn't want to leave—," he began.

"I know, Rei," said Maka, her tone sharp enough to cut Rei off mid-sentence, sharp enough even to make Soul look over, startled. She drew in a deep breath, softening her expression, then looked back at him. "I know…but you know how this looks. If she came back…somehow, on her own, it would be different."

If she came back…

There was something there, something reluctantly implied, something that Rei was sure he was supposed to catch. He held his breath, barely daring to believe it for a moment, but he had to know anyway. He climbed into the backseat of his parents' car, his eyes on them as they took their seats, his mind spinning.

"And if someone managed…" he began, "…to convince her to come back?"

Soul turned the ignition. The growl of the engine as it came to life filled the silence for a moment, and then the car was making its way down the road. Maka kept her eyes firmly on the street ahead of her, not looking back at him.

"Then I might have to remind that someone that taking unsanctioned actions during a time like this is dangerous, reckless, and—if that person were a student—a breach of school rules," she said. "But as busy as we are right now…I don't think we'd have the resources to stop someone like that, if they were really determined. I honestly don't think we'd notice."

She didn't say much else for the rest of the drive, but she didn't need to. Her meaning was clear.

I can't tell you to go find her, but I'm not going to stop you either. Just don't get caught.

The others were waiting for him when he walked in through the door.

They were all there—Vayne, Clark, Cassie. Ayame. He felt their eyes on him as he closed the front door behind him, keeping his own eyes on the ground so that he wasn't looking directly at any of them.

He knew why they were here. They were getting to their feet, offering well-wishes, taking his bag from him and asking him if he was alright, but he could sense the underlying question behind their concern, saw it in the looks they gave him, the edge of fear and confusion and concern in their eyes.

What do we do?

You're the leader. You should know.

Their stares were like accusations, because he didn't. He didn't know. His mother's words were still ringing in his mind and he knew what she would have done in his position, but she had always been brave. He knew that she felt fear, had seen it in her more than once, but Maka's fear spurred her into action. His fear made him hide, made him freeze in place, made him unable to do much more than watch as things happened around him, made him want others to do what was needed instead.

It was a coward's fear, and he honestly wasn't sure if his mother had ever experienced fear like that for herself.

"I need a minute."

The words were out of his mouth before he even had time to think about them, spoken to the empty air around him, to none of them and all of them at once. His eyes met Ayame's briefly as she turned towards him, drawn to her before he could help himself, and he quickly looked away, brushing past all of them as he headed up the stairs to his room.

Ayame found him on the roof ten minutes later, watching as the sun set over the western horizon, turning the sky into fire.

He sensed her before she reached him, felt her moving through the net of awareness that he had spread around himself using his Soul Perception. She didn't speak, but walked over to him, silent as a shadow, and sank down onto the rooftop next to him. He heard her let out a long sigh, felt the ripple of motion pass through her as she leaned into him, her warmth pressing into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. Her hand lay on the rooftop between them; he reached for it without thinking, his fingers threading through the spaces between hers.

Neither of them spoke for a few long moments, something that Rei was almost grateful for. He knew that he should have felt embarrassed, should have felt hesitant about being as close to her as this, but he was too tired, too worn out and too confused to care. He could sort through his own feelings later. At the moment, what mattered was that Ayame was here, next to him, here, whole and alive.

What mattered was that he could draw strength from her.

They remained there for a while, savoring the silence, eyes fixed on the horizon.

"My mom said she wouldn't stop us if we decided to go after Morgan," Rei said after a while, when he felt he could.

Ayame didn't speak, but her hand squeezed his briefly to show that she was listening.

"Someone has to," he said. "If it has to come down to the DWMA retrieving her, things could be bad."

She hummed in reply, thumb brushing over his knuckles.

"It's also pretty likely that we'll find my sisters, wherever Morgan is."

Ayame didn't respond that time, but he could tell that she was listening to him, waiting. He went on, emboldened by the fact that she was there, that someone was listening to him.

"I want to go after Morgan. I want to find my sisters. And I want to help her."

He felt her head lift slowly from his shoulder, felt the weight of her gaze as she turned towards him, her eyes fixed on the side of his face. He didn't turn to meet those eyes, knowing that if he did, they would be his undoing. Instead, he drew in a deep breath, saying the words that he had been holding back, the words that had driven him to seek the safety of the rooftop in the first place.

"…But I'm scared."

Silence. Rei waited with bated breath, the shameful admission hanging in the air between them. He waited for her to rage at him, waited for her to say it was alright, waited for her to leave.

She didn't say anything, at least not immediately. Her free hand landed on the side of his face, slowly, gently, turning him to face her. Her eyes filled his vision, wide and violet. Expectant. Waiting. For a moment, his breath caught. His heart rate sped up; the heat rose to his face. His world shrank, narrowing until it was just the two of them. He could feel her soul wavelength humming beneath her skin where he held her hand, a steady vibration, the same low hum of power that he felt whenever he wielded her weapon form. He could see traces of her soul within her, bright blue and brilliant, suffusing her with light and energy and power.

But most of all, he thought he could see himself reflected in her eyes, reflected in the way she looked at him.

Her fingers rested lightly on his cheek, the barest touch, but her fingertips seemed to burn as she moved her hand, tracing meaningless patterns onto his skin.

There was no judgment in those eyes, nothing but expectation and understanding.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, and suddenly he knew the answer, knew it as suddenly and as completely as if he had always known it.

"Regret this," he said. "Probably."

But not as much as the alternative. Nowhere near as much as the alternative.

Her hand fell away from the side of his face. He wanted to catch it, to keep it there, but now was neither the moment nor the time.

He had work to do now.

Ayame smiled at him, and he saw in her eyes that she understood what he was going to do, understood what he wanted to do.

"All for one," she began.

"One for all," Rei finished, managing a smile in return. He gave her hand one last squeeze before releasing it, getting to his feet. Ayame followed, trailing behind him as lowered himself slowly down the wall towards his bedroom window, careful not to aggravate his injuries. He could feel her behind him as he walked down the stairs, as he stepped into the living room.

They were still waiting there. Clark, Vayne, and Cassie. They were seated in the living room, curled up in armchairs and on the couch, but their eyes were still filled with expectation as they turned towards him.

He had an answer for them now.

"We're going after Morgan," he said.

Beside him, Ayame beamed with pride. Vayne turned sharply to face him at that, and Cassie looked up from where she had been seated in the armchair, her eyes wide and gleaming.

"Knew it," Vayne said, grinning. "See, I told you, Cass. Rei wouldn't let us down."

Clark got to his feet from where he was seated on the couch, his phone in his hands as he turned to face Rei. Rei nodded at him, looking over the group. Vayne, Clark, Cassie. Ayame. Four of his closest friends.

What couldn't they do, if they all worked together?

"We need plans," Rei said, stepping forward. He glanced at Clark, who had pulled a large notebook out of his messenger bag without a word, and was already beginning to take notes. "I'm not my mom—my Soul Perception isn't strong enough to scan the whole world at once. Does anyone have any idea where Morgan and the twins might be—any at all?"

Vayne and Clark's eyes drifted towards Cassie. Rei looked in that direction as well, and when he did, Cassie raised a shaky hand.

"Um…" she began. "Morgan mentioned once that her uncle had a side business in Vegas."

"Vegas?" Vayne asked.

"A casino," Cassie clarified.

"A casino?!" Ayame repeated, incredulous. "Mordred?"

Cassie nodded. "She only has one uncle," she said.

"It's a start," said Rei, glancing at Clark, who was furiously writing. "Do you think you can find it, Cassie?"

Cassie nodded again, her expression growing determined. "I can."

"Question," said Vayne, raising his hand. Rei turned towards him, acknowledging him with a gesture. "How are we even going to get into a casino in the first place? I mean, ignoring the fact that the guy already knows what we look like, no one's gonna believe we're 21."

Cassie looked up before Rei could even speak.

"Don't worry about that," she said. "Leave the disguises to me."