Author's Notes: So this chapter came out way later than I wanted it to be, but a lot of things are going on. Chief among them is the dreaded thesis coming my way. I doubt I'll be able to focus on anything else once I go full throttle on my thesis. Hence, I plan to take a break from writing for a few months, a hiatus. But the good news for you all is I've been working extra time on this fanfic to pump out three new chapters to upload before that hiatus arrives, so that we don't stop in a cliffhanger. And I assure you it's a proper place to pause, since it really will be the end of the first major act of the entire fanfic. Think of all this as a season if you will. This season will end in three more chapters. Or the first book of a trilogy, if you're the book-reading kind.

Anyway, another news, I've been trying my hand on Archive of Our Own, and have now figured out how to put images on my chapters. I've only posted my rewrite version on that site, but still it houses one image I think you all would love to see. It's my newest interpretation of how Jericho looks. You'll find it in the first chapter, right after the intro with Holbrooke and Michelle.

Speaking of that, I'm about 7 followers away from hitting 200 followers on my art Twitter. Couldn't have done it without you guys! If you fear you'll miss me with this hiatus, just follow me there as accuratespino, where you'll find me making art and shitposting and inbetween.

Special thanks to RomanViking for proofreading this chapter.

For you PC readers! For the best reading experience, larger and change the fonts to your taste, narrow the paragraphs to 3/4 or 1/2 (seriously these first two are important it makes the page look like a book) and keep a healthy distance for your eyes.

Chariot briskly marches through the hallway with a tray of food from the cafeteria on her hands, passing through familiar and unfamiliar faces, but Chariot never once stopped for chatter.

The usually jovial girl is awfully quiet, one might mistake her to be sick. Though, indeed, she does feel a certain sickness in her stomach, for today will be a very unpleasant day for Chariot. She has an appointment to meet later in the day with the teachers, where she will be questioned alongside Croix.

It'll be a messy business, so Chariot had been mentally preparing her answers and excuses since she woke up and hadn't stopped since. She's so deep in thought that people had to make way if they don't want Chariot to crash into them.

But the teachers and Croix won't be the only challenge; there's someone else Chariot has to answer to today.

Chariot stops at the front of the infirmary but doesn't proceed immediately.

I got to tell Conan first, about everything from last night.

She clutches the tray tighter between her fingers. Her body shudders involuntarily. She sucks a deep breath in and sets her jaw.

Well, here goes nothing!

Chariot enters the room and finds Conan immediately. He's alone, sitting atop his bed with legs crossed, entertaining himself with a book, while in front of him are sprawled other books. His green hair looks slightly wet and straight like he'd just come out of the shower (in fact Chariot guesses that to be the case), with rogue strands clinging to his fresh face, while his usually easily noticeable cowlick is nowhere to be seen. He wears a clean white button-up shirt and a pair of black trousers, presumably provided by the nurses.

The fledgeling wizard looks up from his book with a surprised and embarrassed look. But soon his tense shoulders relax when he recognizes the face of the interloper.

"Chariot, I didn't expect anyone to visit me!" Hastily, he pushes a few strands of hair back to place.

Chariot tries to chuckle to lighten up the mood (and herself). "Y-yeah, I was just in the way so…"

Conan's eyes drift uneasily to the mess of books around him. He quickly gathers them and makes a neat stack out of them. "Sorry for the mess! My body disagrees with just waiting. Luckily, the headmistress herself came visiting yesterday and heard my plea. She immediately made arrangements to provide me with these entertainments".

"I'm not surprised that the headmistress would do that". Chariot notes his hand free of bandage. "Your hand's okay now?"

Conan nods. "Yes. I was lucky they healed; I can't imagine how frustrating it is to try and read with just one hand. I can lay it on the bed but I think my back will disagree", he chuckles. "In any case, I'll have this one on my forehead removed later today".

The healing spirits, fat and radiant on his forehead, waves with movement as if saying hello to Chariot. She's sure she's imagining it.

Chariot shares his happiness. Involuntarily, her lips spread to a smile. The good feeling nearly makes her forget the potential bleakness her news will bring. Nearly. Chariot gulps quietly at the thought.

Conan notes the tray on Chariot's hands. "Are you planning to eat here? This place doesn't really have an appetizing atmosphere to it, I warn you. There's this inexplicable sterile smell hanging in the air—it ruins my taste buds".

Chariot's smile widens, till it looks almost forced. "No, it's for you, Conan!".

But then, Chariot's eyes dart away to a fixed point in the room for a second. "The… um... fairies are about to send you one, and since I was coming here, I offered to bring it to you. Yes, that's it. Total coincidence".

As Chariot says that, she drags a table with her foot to the side of his bed and sets the tray there, maintaining her smile still. It's a cunning move to forcefully stop him from arguing.

"That's awfully nice of you". Conan watches the breakfast prepared for him with blinking eyes, as if trying to decipher if something so wonderful is really for him.

"Why the surprise?" Chariot jokes. She hopes it doesn't sound as forced as she thinks it is.

Conan tries to get out of bed, but Chariot stops her.

"Hey, where are you off to?!" Chariot bleats. She frantically sits him back on the bed.

"Shouldn't I eat somewhere else?"

Chariot folds her arms in front of her in an effort to look authoritative, but it falls flat as she does so stiffly, and she makes herself look even sillier by stammering. "D-don't. Stay!"

Conan cocks an eyebrow. "Um… why?"

What should I say? I can't tell him the news if there's a lot of people around. But how do I say this...

Chariot's hesitant eyes dart away from his. With a low voice, she mutters, "The cafeteria's pretty crowded right now. Wouldn't it be better to just stay here with me?"

Conan misinterpreted Chariot's gestures; her flustering and odd choice of words tell a very different message to what Chariot has in mind. And so, a tinge of red spreads on Conan's cheeks. After a short pause, Conan nods without speaking a word and does as she says.

With that settled, Chariot cunningly sets off to the window. The boy had the curtain closed, which might explain his earlier complaint.

Chariot readies her eyes and pulls the curtain open. She swings the window open and a breath of fresh air and warm morning sunlight quickly fills the room. The unappetizing sterile and faintly alcoholic smell is replaced by the sweet and breathable morning air.

"There, that's better!"Chariot rests her hands on her hips triumphantly. Now there's no excuse for him to eat elsewhere!

Meanwhile, Conan drags the table closer to his bed while he shifts to the edge of his bed, completing the impromptu dining table. The previous uncertainties and awkwardness have left the boy at the smell of the fresh and free breakfast provided by the school. He wastes no time and helps himself to the good things spread before him.

Distracted by the wide range of delicacies (a privilege guests enjoy), Conan doesn't notice the look Chariot is giving him across the room. She stands quietly beside the window, a finger tapping her chin rhythmically while she rocks on her heels.

She'd imagined this conversation since last night and prepared herself suitably, but being here, Chariot finds it harder than expected to begin.

He's not going to like the news. And he looks so happy today! Should I really ruin his day by telling him?

Chariot feels her head hot and crowded with all these thoughts that her face starts reddening like a boiling kettle.

Chariot approaches his bed with an uncharacteristic thoughtfulness and sits down at an arm's length beside Conan, strangely distant for the usually jovial girl. Had Conan isn't so occupied with his scrambled eggs—slightly runny and lightly salted and peppered, serendipitously to his taste—he'd notice all these uncharacteristic actions.

As Chariot shifts on the bed, her hand comes across Conan's stack of books. Finding no luck out of her verbal dead end, she—in a true procrastinator's fashion—decides to distract herself and pick one of the books up.

"This is your idea of entertainment?" she asks, hoping to talk about something else (in a true procrastinator's fashion).

For the first time since he began eating, Conan pauses from his eating. He has enough decency to swallow before replying. "What are you talking about?"

Chariot holds up the book in question. She tilts her head. "And why so much? You don't plan to finish all of them, do you?"

"Well I… can't decide what I wanted, and so I just asked for a bunch of books so I can take a look at each and decide which one I want to finish".

Chariot turns the book she holds so she can read its cover. She reads it aloud. "Brink of Destruction. I think I heard about this book. Says it's pretty… controversial?"

Conan nervously chuckles. "That's not among those I decided to read".

While Conan continues his meal, Chariot continues foraging. As time passes, Chariot feels more and more relaxed.

This feels nice, to just relax together. I could use this as a breather before what awaits me later in the day. Chariot's face lights up at the thought. Yeah, I deserve a break! I mean I'd been working hard non-stop, right? And what about all those troubles Croix and Miss Finnelan gave me last night? And that ugly Ursa? I deserve a breather like this after all of that!

Chariot shoots a warm glance at Conan. Besides… he seems to be in a good mood. I should just tell him after the questioning. I'd just make things tense between us if I tell him now...

While that thought is still fresh on her mind and has yet to manifest fully, Chariot comes across a book that makes that thought disappear, never to return. It's the picture book Conan bought with Chariot.

By that time, Conan is already finished with his meal. Noticing her find, he shifts on the bed till he's close beside her, a cup of warm coffee gingerly held in his hands.

"I know I wasn't too happy when I bought that with you, but I'm grateful we did", he says, earning a surprised look from Chariot. "They're hardly academic texts, but it gave me a little enlightenment. In fact, it's the fact that it's not an academic text that gave me this idea..."

His eyes go distant as he explains. He truly seems happy today, all excited and smiling at any small chance. But Chariot doesn't share his joy; she feels worse and worse the longer he sees his blissful ignorance. And so, in an uncharacteristic show of maturity, Chariot realizes she's digging her own grave if she adds more lies to her already impressive stack of lies to him.

Chariot shuts the book tightly, stopping Conan's tangent. He looks up to her in surprise, and she replies with a serious gaze.

"Conan, listen!" For a second, her eyes dance between bravery and fear, and—as if fearing she'll have second guesses—confesses without delay. "I'm sorry but I tried to get you that book yesterday!"

The room suddenly fell silent. Even the ticking of the pendulum clock and the sound from outside feel muted.

Chariot just put a decisive blow to any chance of this being a comfortable morning for the two, and her heart aches for it. But her heart aches even more seeing the way Conan slowly tries to react to the news.

"What?" Was all the wide-eyed Conan could say at first.

But there's no going back, and ambiguousness could lead to misunderstanding, so Chariot bravely continues. "Remember Croix Meridies? Well, I looked for her and found her. She told me she'd lend me the key if I do something for her, but she lied, and I got into trouble. Miss Finnelan caught both of us last night".

Conan remains speechless for a chunk of time. His mouth parts numerous times, but his words keep catching in his throat. "All this... All this happened last night without me knowing?"

Chariot involuntarily gulps. She nods.

Conan is silent for a few long moments. His lips quiver until he presses them into a thin crooked line. He stands to his feet and looks down at Chariot with a bleak look, face flushed and splotchy with emotions. "Chariot, why?! Didn't you promise me not to go? Just for one day you promised me not to trouble yourself".

It makes her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. But once again, Chariot doesn't want to stay silent, fearing misunderstanding.

"I know, I know! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I lied. I wanted to give you a surprise before you leave today, and, and— Croix's promise was too good to be true—"

But her excuses do little to wither Conan's temper. He didn't even wait for her to finish. "Yes, you lied! This is exactly why I wanted you to promise me not to go! Now we're in deep trouble because of you".

Chariot's words die on her throat and she makes a strange wounded noise, shocked and terrified at how loud and angry Conan is. She's never heard or seen him so angry before. The way he looks and speaks… It's such an ill-fitting look to the gentle boy Chariot knew. Yet… when faced with such a disappointment, who can blame him, really?

It was at the back of her mind at first, but now it's laid bare for Chariot; Chariot crossed a firm line she should never even have thought of crossing. She's pushed his incredible patience too far, and her excuses now seem like childish reasonings even to her.

Chariot's shoulders involuntarily shrink and her stomach twists in a knot. She lowers her gaze in a miserable attempt to escape Conan's wrath.

Here, Chariot realizes that her worst fears from last night are tragically realized.

Oh no, I did it again, haven't I?

I disappointed someone.

Why can't I get anything right?

Can't get right with my friends, and not with Conan either.

Why can't I get anything right?

Hot tears started to roll down Chariot's cheeks. Chariot doesn't realize it until a few drops wet her skirt, crumpled tightly by her trembling hands.

It's a miracle Conan heard the first sobs, quiet as it was. He was just about to launch another volley of words, but the words quickly choke on his throat, and any trace of anger leaves him as surprise, confusion, and fear slowly washes the red on his face away.

Conan's voice involuntarily cracks. "Chariot? Why are you crying?

Chariot has to fight against the sobs and sniffs that rock her chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry", Chariot keeps repeating, voice growingly wounded with each try.

Conan's face goes white as chalk and his eyes widen with horror. His trembling hands reach outward, but he hesitates. He makes a strange wounded voice. "S-s-sorry! I didn't mean to yell!"

His pleas fall on deaf ears. Chariot's tears continue to wet ruin her comely cheeks.

Conan's panicked eyes dart to every corner of the room as if he'll find a clue of what to do somewhere in the room. Occasionally, he'd spare the door a look, worried that prying eyes or curious ears would notice the commotion.

Conan turns to Chariot with a deeply worried look. He tries to speak but hesitates numerous times.

While he's stuck in confusion, Chariot furiously rubs her eyes, trying her best to staunch the tears. Finding little success, she lowers her head just so Conan couldn't see her crying.

Stop crying!

Why can't I stop crying?

I'm such an embarrassing, stupid girl!

I can't even stop myself from crying.

Chariot's whole body is rocked by her sobs and sniffs. But then, she tenses up and ceases shaking at the sense of a touch. Chariot looks up in surprise and finds herself face to face with Conan, his hands gently wrapped around her shoulders.

The sheer surprise of his boldness makes her forget she was even crying.

C-Conan?

Chariot tries to form words, but they're caught by her the last vestiges of her sobs.

And then, Conan does the unthinkable. He tightens his hold on Chariot's shoulder and, with a mighty heave, frantically shakes her body back and forth, all while yelling to her ears, "Get a hold of yourself, Chariot! Stop crying! You have to stop crying!"

Chariot feels like her head would fall off her neck. She begs for him to stop, but her words come out in slurs."C-Conan stop! What are you doing?! I'm fine now! You're gonna give me a headaaaaache!"

The wizard gingerly lets go of his hold. He backs away and freezes in nervous anticipation, attentively watching Chariot, waiting for her reaction with a look of 'did it work?'

Chariot's head spins without end. Her hands clutch at the side of her head, massaging it gently, trying to recover from the terrible headache.

Chariot looks like a mess now, her bangs covering more of her face, her eyes bloodshot and cheeks wet from the tears.

Angrily, she scowls at Conan. Her face is crimson, and it's not from the headache. "What was that for?!" she yells at him.

Conan's shoulder tense involuntarily. "I-I never had a girl cry in front of me before. What was I supposed to do?!"

"I don't know?! Anything but that!" Chariot whines angrily, all while furiously rubbing her eyes and cheeks.

She quickly realizes her tears had run dry, no thanks to the surprise Conan gave her.

I hate to admit it but it worked.

Embarrassed, angry, and confused, Chariot doesn't know how to feel let alone how to act. All she could do is frown annoyedly at Conan, eliciting a gulp from the boy. Then, she decides to pout and cast her gaze anywhere but at the boy.

"Maybe a tissue would help for a start", she grumbles.

Conan obediently does as told. He makes a visit to his table and returns with an unused tissue, which Chariot quickly usesto blow her nose.

"Anything else, Chariot?" he sounds quite obedient.

But Chariot still refuses to look at Conan. "Maybe water". Conan does as told without delay.

Chariot takes her time drinking the clear water. Her chest hurts from all the sobbing and yelling, and the cool water calms her insides.

She stares at her reflection in the water. An embarrassing-looking girl looks back. Chariot runs a hand through her hair numerous times to tidy them, occasionally also wiping the last vestiges of her tears.

Stupid Conan! If only he's more gentle.

Once more, she silently glares at Conan, prompting him to tense up and approach her cautiously.

"W-what is it? Do you need anything else? Just say it".

Chariot pauses in thought. Her eyes shift towards his breakfast on the table, not completely finished. "Maybe a bit of your toast would help—"

"Don't push your luck", Conan interrupts annoyedly, earning a pout from Chariot. But, too tired, she makes no effort to argue.

With the chaos done and gone, the two falls into an intensely awkward silence. Conan, who'd been standing this whole time, watches the empty spot on the bed beside Chariot through the corner of his eyes. He kneads his hands to a fist before braving himself to sit beside Chariot.

One of them cried and the other handled it like a champ. Needless to say, neither of them feels confident at all to break the silence. So they linger in this silence like confused children, darting their eyes around to anywhere but each other.

His fingers tap against his knee, once, then twice. He raises an unsure look towards Chariot. After so long, he swallows and finally breaks his silence. "So… are you done?"

"What are you talking about?" she asks back in a small voice, unbefitting of the girl's famed joviality.

Conan's lips thin. His eyes tell of the difficulty inside him. "Like… are you not going to cry again?"

Chariot looks at him pointedly. "I'm not a baby, Conan".

Even though I did just cry like one.

This fact doesn't go unnoticed by Conan. "But you—" Conan's voice catches in his throat as confusion mixes in his eyes. He shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand, wisely dropping the topic, much to Chariot's relief. "Right, I see, you're right".

Another brief silence passes, puzzling and awkward. Conan hands tap against this knee, once, then twice. He raises another unsure look towards Chariot, and for a second he delays his words. "So, about the… thing. This is still bad, isn't it? You got caught"

"Sorry", Chariot responds, uncharacteristically brief for the talkative girl. She still refuses to meet his eyes.

"But... you're fine, right?" He asks.

Chariot's shoulder tenses at that question, but she's quick to kill the gesture.

"...I'm alright". Chariot's thumb traces the fresh scratches of yesterday. Her voice catches briefly in her throat.

Subtly, she balls her fists, hiding the scars from Conan. The details will just complicate things, and she's tired of arguing. For that reason, she didn't adorn her injuries with her colourful band-aids she loves to use for her frequent injuries from flying or her usual shenanigans—Conan will easily spot them.

"...It was messy, but I got out completely fine". She looks up to Conan, hoping to not look too dismissive it becomes suspicious.

Conan drums his fingers on his thighs, quick, almost in pace with Chariot's nervous heartbeat; she thinks he's considering her answer as suspicious. But luckily, his mind seems to linger on something else, another question.

He asks, "How about now, or should I say eventually? Willyou be alright?"

Chariot thins her lips to a tight line as if to stop any unprepared answer from escaping. There's still refusal in her, that fear of getting into another verbal fistfight with Conan. Sure, Conan admitted he didn't mean to yell, but his voice… and that dark look in his eyes… Chariot doesn't want to see that anymore. Never again.

But Chariot soon accepts there's no point holding back—she has nothing else to lose—not after all the embarrassments they both stomached today.

Chariot's fingers lock together like a puzzle, not that distinguishable from her mind.

Confused, she has no idea how to begin, so she ends up giving a bleak and forced laugh. "Well… that's where the funny part is".

But the sombre and genuine glow in Conan's eyes kills Chariot's attempt to lighten the atmosphere. She drops the act and adopts a more serious look.

She sighs before turning to him and answering truthfully. "Today Croix and I will be questioned by the teacher. The tricky thing is, they're trying to determine which one of us is the guilty one. Croix promised me the key if I found the fountain of Polaris, while sharing the key is forbidden. But when the two of us were caught on the northern campus by Miss Finnelan, Croix claimed she never intended to fulfil her promise to me to go off the hook. Miss Finnelan doesn't buy it, but the other teachers might believe Croix. So the questioning will be like a battleground; Croix will try her best to not be blamed by putting the blame on me instead, and I'll definitely say otherwise".

Chariot stares at the old wooden clock sitting at the end of the room. Conan's eyes follow. She says, "It'll happen after classes end for the day. So I got that waiting for me, I guess".

Conan watches her with quiet attentiveness. "I'm guessing you're worried the teachers will believe Croix's words more since she's… well, Croix Meridies", he says, more of a statement than a question.

Chariot nods.

Conan's brows twist to a frown. He leans closer, lowering his voice to just above a whisper, as if they're in a crowded room and requires privacy. "But you did what you did because of me. The teachers should be told this".

Chariot shakes her head. Her response is quick and confident—she's already made up her mind about this as early as when Miss Finnelan caught her and Croix in the northern campus. "But you told me not to go, how could you be guilty?

The flame in her eyes reduces to embers, and she stares at her balled fists resting on her thighs. "I made a promise and I broke it, so all of this is my fault. That's why I took the blame entirely; when Miss Finnelan confronted me that night in the northern campus, I made sure to not mention you at all".

Conan's eyes widen and he speaks slowly. "You… didn't mention me at all?"

Chariot raises her eyes. She nods silently like a scared little girl.

"But… if you mentioned me, you'd be…" Conan's words stuck to his throat. He leansback, as if he's just dealt a physical blow. "You won't be blamed as much as you are now…"

He keeps blinking and silent for a good , unceremoniously, he breaks his silence with a rude comment. "Are you stupid?"

Chariot gasps at his rude comment and crosses her arms over her chest. "How… rude! I was trying to protect—"

"Thank you", Conan abruptly says, putting a stop to whatever Chariot tried to admit.

His voice catches in his throat briefly. Conan's eyes dart to and fro before he fixes them back onto Chariot. "I mean to say what you did was stupid and you should've said so since the beginning… but I'm glad you did that for me, and I didn't give you a chance to say that earlier didn't I? I can't believe you did that for me back then. I had no idea".

Conan seems so genuine and… vulnerable. It caught Chariot off guard.

Conan darts his eyes away and awkwardly scratches behind his ear. "Sorry for being mad earlier. I was genuinely scared you mentioned me and I panicked at the trouble I'll be in. That was pretty selfish of me, wasn't it? I should worry about you first. I was being a jerk".

Chariot doesn't feel the joy of being proven right."N-no it's pretty normal. I'd be scared if I were in your shoes".

They both broke off with their sentences and soon fell into silence. They both can't meet each other's eyes, both feeling stupid at the silly misunderstanding that made such a mess.

Conan kneads his hands into squirming fists and frowns. There's something thoughtful in his frown.

After so long in silence, Conan sucks a deep breath through his teeth and sighs.

Conan shifts closer towards Chariot, holding a steady yet concerned gaze. "Look, Chariot, I appreciate the gesture, I really do, but if I didn't talk to you about the book, none of this would've happened".

Conan shuts his eyes. His jaw locks and his eyes twitch beneath their lids. When he opens them, Chariot sees the conflict dancing in his eyes. "You can mention me to the teachers. Put the blame on me if you want".

Chariot brows tighten to a scowl. "Don't say that! Do you know what trouble you'll be in if you do that? You're not a student!"

"I know, Chariot, but if I'm not the one blamed, they'll blame you instead! Do you want that?".

Conan hangs his head and shakes his head. "I can't stand knowing you're taking responsibility on your own".

He raises his eyes, but they have no courage in them. "It's either me or you—there's no option C".

"There has to be a way!" Chariot passionately rebukes without a second's delay. "I knowwe both feel guilty, so we won't accept only one of us suffering. If that's the case, there has to be a way where both of us will be okay by the end!"

The sheer passion and belief behind her every word silences Conan.

But slowly, Chariot's eyes, previously fiery with confident passion, begin to lose into embers and they dart away. "Even so… I have no idea how. I want it to be that way, but I don't know how".

Her voice was wounded, and Conan felt the pain like it was his own. Her misery sliced through his soul like a knife.

Suddenly, a sickening numbness washes over Conan, real like a physical malady. He's ashamed to give up so quickly, resorting to such cowardly decisions when Chariot still fights for a better way, a way where both of them will be happy.

Shame and regret engulf his conscience, silencing him, and thus the two share a long silence. But there's thoughtfulness behind his every gesture—from his silent frown to his locking fingers—as he lies in silence.

Conan breaks the silence with a sigh. And what a sigh it was; it was one of the most tired sighs Chariot had ever heard in her life. Not even the older teachers—those miserable and aged buzzkills—ever sigh like that!

Conan runs a hand through his face, massaging his temple, then hiding his eyes. "Chariot, you're a terrible person, you know? You never let me give up in peace; not yesterday nor today".

Despite what he said, when Chariot looks to his eyes—partially hiding in the shadow of his hand—she doesn't meet a coward's eyes; they shine like resolute points of flame in a stormy sea.

He drops his hand and turns to her. "There is a way for both of us to be safe and sound".

Chariot blinks and looks at him with hopeful eyes. "Eh, there is?!"

Sensing her budding hope and fearing it'll grow unattended, Conan worriedly raises a finger in front of her to stop her. "T-This is something spontaneous I came up with, so don't put too much faith in it!"

But that hardly extinguishes Chariot's excitement. When Chariot catches sight of hope, there's nothing that can take her eyes off it.

Before Chariot knew it, she smiled from ear to ear. "No, come on, don't say that about yourself! Let's hear it, and I'll be the judge whether your plan is smart or not so smart!

Chariot's loud optimism catches Conan by surprise. And who can blame him, when just seconds ago she was wallowing in grief, and a little longer she was drowning in her own tears? Nonetheless, Conan is delighted to see Chariot back to her happy self. Crying and frowning don't suit her comely face. He regrets being the reason for those tears, but is now grateful he's the reason she's smiling again.

That boundless optimism… it reminds Conan of something.

"Strive for your ideal place..." he remarks suddenly, more to himself than to Chariot.

Chariot cocks her head. "What?"

Conan's focus returns to Chariot.

He scratches his cheek with a hand. "Ah, nothing. It's… something someone told me once. I just found it relevant suddenly. It means, at least the way I understand it, that as long as you have a place or a point that you long for, no hardship will make you lost". His voice grows increasingly distant as he speaks and there's a far off look to his eyes, as if he's in another place, another time, and talking to someone else.

Chariot involuntarily smirks. "Your friend sounds wise, whoever they are".

Conan blinks at Chariot, as if he's just jolted awake from slumber. "Well, you're sort of right. She is".

But then, Chariot hears him hide a sigh, and a somewhat tired look comes to his face. "But she's also very cryptic, confusing, stingy, and cold… and old".

Chariot was about to respond to that, butConan held up a finger to stop her. Had what he's going to say isn't surprising, she would've whined about the sudden topic change.

He says, "First of all, the plan involves Croix Meridies".

Chariot's lips purse and she tilts her head. "Croix? Why Croix?"

A troubled look comes to her face and she leans close for a whisper, as if they're in a crowded room and requires privacy. "Isn't she… practically speaking, my enemy today?"

"Which is exactly why we need her help, to be on our side"

"You need her to be on our side?" Chariot squeaks. She looks at Conan like he'd grown a second head. "I don't know if she'll agree on that. She sort of made it clear yesterday how much she dislikes me!" Chariot chuckles nervously.

Once more, Chariot spares Conan the details of what she really thinks of Croix. I don't want to complicate things—it is already complicated as it is!

Conan watches Chariot inquisitively. "That's why I need you—someone who's faced her—to tell me everything about her".

Chariot's brows furrowed in confusion. "Everything? Whatever is that for?"

"Chariot, you silly girl!" Conan playfully taps her forehead with the thick spine of one of his books, eliciting a soft whimper from the girl. "You can't make a proper tactic if you don't understand what troops the enemy general is bringing".

The hit doesn't wither Chariot's smile. Seeing Conan confident lifts her own spirits.

With the book still planted on her forehead, she looks up to Conan and nods excitedly. Grinning like a ray of sunshine on a fresh morning, Chariot says, "I have no idea what you're saying, but let's do this!"

Author's Notes: a shameless correction on the Horologium Chamber chapter, the one where Jericho had a long talk with Woodward early in his arrival in the past: my memory of LWA was a bit rusty. I intended to write the first word, "Strive for your ideal place", as her advice to him, but I butchered it and had it mixed up with the second or so word. I've got back to that chapter and fixed it. But you don't need to look it up. Here, Jericho's advice to Chariot, is almost word-by-word of what Woodward told her (though with a dash of his own interpretation), so you get the gist of the change.

As always, don't shy away from reviewing. I'm lonely :'(