Narrator: No one (third-person)

"Hey, Luddie," Gilbert said, plopping himself onto a chair. "How's hospital life?"

It had been three days since his first visit. Feliciano's bed was once again separated by a curtain.

Ludwig, looking much better, squinted at him. "Where are Vater and Mei? What time is it?"

"Way to answer a question with more questions," Gilbert said, grinning. "I guess they're at home, and it is approximately thirteen hundred hours."

"So . . . shouldn't you be in school?"

"Should is a strong word."

Ludwig closed his eyes and leaned against his pillow with a long sigh. "Don't tell me you walked here."

"Why would I when I can steal a bike?"

Ludwig opened his eyes and stared at him.

Gilbert grinned. "I'm kidding. I took a bus. C'mon, you should be flattered! Here I am, taking precious time away from my education to visit you—"

"You'll skip class at any opportunity," Ludwig pointed out. "You've done it to climb a roof."

"Only twice, and I don't do that anymore."

"Because the ladder's no good."

"Exactly. Now if you would answer my question, how is life? Seriously, I didn't sit next to weirdos for nothing."

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "I'm just fine. If I wasn't in bed I could bench-press you twenty times."

"Oh, awesome, for real?!" Gilbert exclaimed. "When do you think you'll be out?"

Ludwig gave him a small shrug. "Soon, I hope. My . . . I wasn't hurt badly. A concussion's not too bad."

"You sure?"

Another shrug. "I'm feeling better. I don't know what you want."

"I want my little bro to come home so I can dish out a proper hug!"

"Mm-hm."

Now Gilbert glanced to where Feliciano lay behind the curtain.

"Any news with Feli?" he murmured.

Ludwig pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Not . . . that I'm aware of. His stepparents have come in every afternoon to visit."

"Hope he wakes up soon."

Matthew and Francis sat in the library together during their free period. Francis was staring off into space as Matthew struggled to focus on his homework.

After a moment, Matthew gave up, setting his pencil down and adjusting his glasses.

"Can you really see fairies?" he asked.

Francis nodded.

"Are there any . . . here?"

He looked around and shook his head. "The ones I see are usually Arthur's friends, although . . . I did see a few pixies in a tree the other day, if that's the right term."

"It must be . . . very strange," Matthew murmured.

Francis grinned. "It is, but I'm glad I can see what he sees."

"I wish . . ." Matthew sighed. "I wish . . . I'd believed Arthur, all those times he talked about magic . . ."

"I didn't believe him, either," Francis admitted. "I thought I was hallucinating when he showed me."

"That's understandable."

"How's Alfred taking it?"

Matthew smiled. "He got over the shock, and now he thinks it's the best thing ever that magic is real. He's upset he can't see fairies, and I think he was going to ask Arthur about it, but I wouldn't be surprised if he forgot."

"He's in for a disappointment," Francis remarked. "I think Arthur said having the Sight is mostly genetic."

"Hm . . ."

"AND I-I-I-I-I . . . WILL A-A-A-ALWAYS LOVE YOU-U-U-U-U . . ."

A knock made Alfred turn around, and he saw Matthew standing in the hall.

"Yo, Mattie," he said, waving the spoon he was using as a microphone. "You wanna join the karaoke party?"

"I was . . . gonna ask you to keep it down, if that's okay," Matthew murmured. "I was trying to nap."

"Oh, yeah, cool. I'll sing something softer. You sure you don't wanna join?"

"Another time."

"Sweet."

Another knock made them both look around. Alfred put the spoon in his mouth and went to the door, throwing it open carelessly.

He stared, and Matthew stared, and the people outside smiled.

"Oh," Alfred said around the spoon. "Hey, mom. Hey, dad."

Kiku waited at the top of the monkey bars as Hercules finally swung his way up through the gaps.

"I'm surprised that wasn't easy for you," he remarked as Hercules positioned himself. "You're very strong . . ."

Hercules shrugged. "Strong, maybe . . . not too flexible. You, on the other hand . . . I didn't know you were so . . . monkey-like."

Kiku smiled. "It's a secret talent."

"You got up here . . . in five seconds."

"Don't share the secret or I'll lose my power."

"You're very interested in medical magic all of a sudden," Rowan remarked, peering at the book Arthur pored over.

Arthur shrugged. "If I do end up becoming a cop, who knows who I might have to heal?"

"This is because of your friends in the hospital, isn't it?"

Another shrug.

"You do know most medical magics require proficient potion-making skills?"

Arthur sighed and shut the book.

Don't tell me to leave a message, you son of a—fuck, there's the beep—I mean, hey, Mei! Guess what? Apparently mom and dad are actually staying here for at least a month, or so they said, so I don't have to cook the mac n' cheese anymore, for now. So that's cool. Mattie's sleeping, mom and dad asked me if he's doing fine, I said usual, and then I thought, "Shit, maybe they don't know what usual is." I mean, that's their own fault, so whatever, right? Call me back, let's set up a date or something, and lemme know how things are over there! See you later! . . . Alright, cool, back to dancing. Wait, shit, I didn't hit the button—

Mei smiled and shut off her phone, resolving to call Alfred back after dinner.

Lovino and Antonio sat by Feliciano's bed, having come as soon as school was out. Antonio held Lovino's hand for comfort while Lovino's eyes were either cast down or trained on Feliciano's face. Ludwig was sleeping in the adjacent bed, and his own family had just gone home.

They looked up at movement—Elizabeth and Roderich had come by again.

"Do you want to go?" Antonio murmured, but Lovino shook his head.

Elizabeth smiled at them in greeting, and stony silence remained between Lovino and Roderich.

"Why are you holding hands?" Roderich said, abruptly breaking the silence.

"Why do you care?" Lovino muttered.

"There are some strange trends nowadays," Roderich said, pushing up his glasses, "things I don't care to see right in front of me—"

"Yeah? You don't like it? I'll damn well kiss him in front of you, I don't give a—"

"What?" Roderich exclaimed. Elizabeth side-eyed him.

Antonio swallowed with a nervous smile. "Sir, we've, uh . . . been . . ." He glanced at Lovino, who was past caring. "We've been dating for about two years. As in kissing."

The face Roderich made was as if he'd smelled something rotting.

"What is wrong with you?" he hissed. "Homosexuals are—"

"Bisexual," Lovino muttered.

"That's even worse! If you can choose between a nice young lady or a man, why would you—?!"

"Uh, sir?" Antonio piped up. "It's not really your business, especially seeing how we don't live with you."

Roderich clenched his hands. "I don't want anything to do with—"

"Roderich?" Elizabeth said.

"What?"

"I want a divorce."

He was at a loss for words.

"Let's go," she said, standing. "Lovi, Antonio, I'm sorry about that. I'll be back tomorrow."

She gave Roderich a cold look and left the room.

"Elizabeth?" Roderich said blankly. "I—wait—"

He hurried after her, leaving Lovino and Antonio with Feliciano.