"5th District, Solis Novem," Western Theater

May 3rd, Stellar Year 2146

—

"Lowell-san?"

The voice was low and gentle. It asked after a name that wasn't his, filled with concern. Concern edged with caution, but no less warm because of it. His face, Shin realized, was still buried in his palms. At some point he'd fallen asleep. A mistake. His nightmares came often. The Legion's voices always registered on the periphery of his senses. Always. It never stopped, and that usually kept him from sleeping deep enough to dream in the first place. But sometimes the exhaustion caught up with him all at once. And then the nightmares would come. And if he wasn't behind closed doors and soundproof walls when that happened, others soon became aware of them too.

"Lowell-san, are you awake?"

"Yes," Shin answered. He rubbed his palms against his eyes to see if they were dry - they were - and only then lifted his head. His vision was bleary. He squinted against the light of the study room, soft from a single shaded lamp, and yet still too bright by far.

An Alba girl stood in front of him, long silver hair going to her waist.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

What answer could he even give to a question like that? Of course he wasn't. None of this was. The memories were so fresh they bled into the waking world. He could all but hear Kette's voice ringing in his ears.

"I'll believe in you no matter what."

All but feel the recoil of that final shot jerking up his hand. Saw again the way her body spasmed, seizing on and on until it stilled and the last of her was gone.

"No," he said, before he quite realized he'd even spoken at all. "But thank you for asking," he added. He hoped it didn't sound as hasty as it felt.

The girl regarded him wordlessly. As Shin's vision cleared, the first thing he noticed about her were her eyes. Celesta-blue. The silver of her hair was tinted blue as well. The rest of her features were Alba, but she wouldn't have been able to pass as pure-blooded, or even as a Half.

She took a seat in the armchair opposite his, posture straight-backed and proper, hands folded in her lap.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Shin tried to return the expression, to show something, anything other than the hollowness he felt. He wasn't sure if he managed it. The smirk he painted across his face seemed terribly fake.

"Not really," he said.

She nodded, but didn't leave.

"Would you like to listen, then?"

"What?"

"My mother told me that when you're hurt, you can get stuck thinking the same thoughts over and over, so it can help to hear someone else's instead."

Shin gave a clipped, sardonic snort of laughter. That, at least, was genuine.

"Do you always play therapist for every new guy on base?"

She smiled. "Only if they really need it."

Shin looked away. "Does it show that clearly?"

"Unfortunately so."

Shin sat with that for a few moments, letting his thoughts run. What was he supposed to say? What would be the right thing to say? His masters had trained him for this role what felt like ages ago, but he'd been a child then. He was still a child now, but an older one, carrying more scars, and with different expectations placed upon him. How much of his master's doctrine could he still use?

Maybe none of it. Maybe he'd have to play it by instinct.

"Yes," he said, before he could give himself too much time to overthink. "Sure, I'll listen."

The almost-Alba girl clapped her hands together, smile widening, crinkling her eyes at the corners.

"Wonderful! I suppose the first thing I should tell you is that my name is Anju. Anju Emma. And you are William Lowell-san of course, our oh-so-famous new recruit.

"You know, the whole barracks is buzzing about yours and Kurena's shooting contest. I think you're the first one who's ever been able to come close to matching her. You should know it made quite the impression on our little Gunslinger - that's her Personal Mark, by the way. And…"

It went on awhile. Anju had a soft, gentle voice, and she spoke with a soothing cadence that held its own rhythm, like music. She talked about everything and nothing. Little everyday things that didn't matter in the slightest. Shin learned more about his new squadmates than he ever could have asking questions for himself.

Most of it was inconsequential. He doubted it would ever aid the mission to know that Daiya (the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy Shin met in the common room) had once tried to impress Anju by going into the woods alone to hunt a boar, but ended up getting lost and needing rescue from Anju. It wasn't intel. If he had tried to share an anecdote like that with his old Nouzen masters, they would have scolded him at best. Punished his brother at worst.

But it was a genuinely funny story, and it did exactly what Anju said it would. It took his thoughts off Kette. Shin didn't laugh, or even smile, but by the end he found the weight of his scowl had lessened.

"Thank you, Emma-san," he said after Anju's voice had trailed to silence. She gave again the same smile that seemed characteristic to her, gentle and kind, belied with its own quiet species of deep-set steel.

"Oh, you can call me Anju. And there's no need for thanks. You're a part of our Squadron now, Lowell-san. Spearhead looks out for its own."

"If I'm calling you Anju, you can call me Will. And I'll try to return the favor someday."

"You already have," she said softly. "You were very kind to Kurena, even after everything she said about you. Not many Alba would do the same."

"Not many Alba have eyes like mine," Shin said.

"I suppose that's true."

She studied him for a moment, light blue eyes deep and speculative. She seemed on the verge of saying something further, shoulders tensing. Then stopped herself.

"Dinner's soon," she said instead. "Will you be joining us?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

—

Dinner was a warm affair. In many meanings of the word. Aegis Hall had one shared cafeteria for every Squadron, but they each allotted themselves different mealtimes. At just a little after eight, Spearhead got the latest time. Which was probably a mistake, because out of all the Squadrons, his was definitely the loudest. Shin's new squadmates were… boisterous. Cheery and lively, many of them, and almost all of them friendly. That night he had so many names jammed down his throat (LeccaMynaKinoKujoToumaMikuri and many, many more) that it was unlikely he'd remember any of them the next morning.

But it also seemed unlikely that any of them would mind. His new squad seemed to accept him with an ease he almost found suspicious. He probably would have been, if not for Anju's offhand comment. Maybe what Kurena had said out loud to him - showing her hatred and distrust of him as an Alba, her resentment of him even being there at all - was a sentiment many of them had held quietly. But the fact that 'Will' had smiled at her at the end of their contest, rather than sneered or scowled, seemed to have put some of those sentiments to rest. That was what Anju seemed to imply when she said that.

Or maybe they were still waiting for him to show his true colors, and putting up a mask of friendliness in the meantime. He supposed there was no way to know.

But he liked them. He did know that.

Shin stood on the roof of Aegis Hall. The wind was pleasantly cool tonight, and though the lights of the city occluded most of the stars, the brightest of them still twinkled, and there were no clouds to hide the crescent moon. It was hard to believe, looking back, just how much had happened in one day, from the jail cell all the way to here. He was tired. His brain felt more than a little overworked, every thought struggling its way out of psychic sludge, but there was still one task left before he could turn in.

".:Resonance- start. Target- Cyclops:."

Grethe required him to give check-ins and weekly reports, but that was to be expected. She was his superior officer, after all.

But then Shiden demanded them as well, on pain of mining every embarrassing story she could out of Kiriya if he did not. And that was annoying. But so was everything she did, and despite the fact that he'd only really known her for about a month, Shin had already become resigned to just accepting whatever shit she pulled.

".:So, Ladykiller, how was schooool~?:." Shiden sing-songed in a pitch-perfect Grethe imitation, knowing it would piss him off. Which it did. ".:Make any new friends? Learn anything fun?:." She made a scandalized noise, and through the Para-RAID Shin sensed her putting her hand over her mouth in a pantomime of shock. ".:Did you fall in loooove?:."

".:As a matter of fact I did:." Shin said dryly. ".:She's small and cute and quiet, and doesn't try to fight me every ten minutes, because unlike some people, she actually knows she doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of winning:."

".:She sounds boring:."

".:Maybe boring is better, Shiden:."

".:Oh come on, you know ya don't mean that:."

".:And what if I do?:."

".:Then you'd be breaking my heart:."

".:You have one of those?:."

She rolled her eyes on the other end.

".:Tell me about your day, smart-ass:."

".:Tell me about yours first:."

".:Are you allergic to straight answers or something, Nouzen?:."

".:Only when I have to give them to you:."

".:And Grethe. And Kiriya. I swear the only person you actually talk normally with is Kaie:."

".:Obviously. Small and cute and quiet, remember?:."

Shiden was silent on the other end for awhile. Shin caught a twinge of some emotion through the link he couldn't identify, a faint tightness in the chest, a bitterness, though it passed quickly.

".:Things have been… normal around here, I guess:." She said, after the feeling had gone. ".:Normal as they can be, when you're living in a war-zone. Might even be a little better. I swear, the Legion's been attacking less since you arrived. Probably just a coincidence, but I'll take what I can get if it means nobody has to die:."

Her words were a reminder of the war he'd left behind to be here. Perhaps they were not a necessary reminder - Shin had not forgotten the price others paid so that he could be here, living the comfortable life of a student - but they were a reminder all the same.

It weighed on him day and night that he was only allowed to enjoy these luxuries because somewhere beyond that wall, people were fighting, dying, suffering. Spearhead had cooked him a downright feast to welcome him into the Squadron. Even meat substitutes and synthesized vegetables could be made delicious after being stewed to tenderness for eight hours. And yet he couldn't help but compare that meal to the combat rations some kid his own age was likely stuffing down between sorties.

His only consolation was the knowledge that his role here was useful, and moreover, that he was the only one who could fill it.

".:Alright that's me done, your turn:."

Shin had been hoping to delay his side of the report for as long as possible. But Shiden Iida could only be stalled for so long.

".:Progress has been good so far. It's slow work, but I'm building connections. Planting cover. I haven't heard anything about Rei yet, but there's signs of him everywhere. They use Para-RAIDs here, and veteran Juggernauts have Personal Marks, just like they do in the Empire:."

".:Hey, hey, slow down Ladykiller. I'm not Grethe. I wasn't asking about your mission, I asked about your day. Tell me about that instead:."

Shin knew that. He'd been trying to avoid that particular question, on account of what a strange day it had been. He was quiet for a moment as he put together his thoughts, trying to think of the best, safest way to explain himself.

".:You did something, didn't you?:." Shiden said, noting his extended pause, because she could be annoyingly perceptive sometimes.

".:Of course not-:."

".:Please don't tell me you got expelled. Please don't tell me you fucked everything up less than three days into the operation. Because then I'll start laughing, and I'll never stop laughing, and then I'll run out of oxygen and die:."

".:No! I didn't get expelled. Just… transferred:."

".:Transferred:." She said dully.

".:Yes. I'm in the… combat course now:."

Another moment of quiet, this time on her end.

".:What did you do?:."

".:Nothing:."

".:Yeah. Sure. You did 'nothing,' I totally buy it:."

".:But it's true:." And it was. He really had done nothing to Nero.

She barked laughter. ".:So you did nothing at all, and still got transferred into the combat division after all the headaches we went through to get you into history classes. Riiiight. Grethe is gonna love that. Fuck, Shin, were you actually a spy? This seems like… not a spy thing to do. What even happened?:."

".:It's a long story:." he said.

A grin on the other end. An absolutely vile, wicked grin Shin wanted nothing to do with, ever.

".:I guess you better start talkin' then, huh?:."

Shin glanced down at his watch. Already half past ten. He sighed. This was going to be a long night.

—

May 8th

For the fucking life of him, Shin could not remember how he'd gotten roped into this.

The ring was more or less a bunch of stiff mattresses each glued together with industrial solvent, forming a roughly 20-square-foot space bounded off by frayed cargo ropes. Shin stood shirtless, though still with his scarf around his neck, surrounded by yet another audience of Sword students from every Squadron. Bombarded yet again by whoops and hollers and bets being placed. He swayed on his feet, fists in a boxer's stance, meeting the brown-eyed gaze of his opponent standing about a head taller than him.

His name was Kujo. He was a strong, dark-skinned Deseria with coarse black hair arranged in three long braids spilling over the sweaty, muscled pad of his chest. He wore a superbly happy grin.

"Havin' second thoughts, Lowell?" Kujo asked amicably.

Shin shook his head. He stretched one arm, glove extended, and Kujo tapped it with his own before both of them danced back a step.

"Fight!" shouted Raiden, who he remembered (almost in a daze) had agreed to referee this match.

If only he could remember what the match was for.

Kujo wasted no time, giving a dull, growling roar as he charged across the mattresses, arm already winding back for a haymaker swing.

Shin gives a sharp exhale. His thoughts sharpen. Accelerate.

His eyes settle on the bright red glove and the arm attached to it, the muscles tightening. Kujo's eyes are on Shin's head. Not his eyes, but his cheek - his gaze betrays his intention. And as Kujo's arm tenses like a coiling spring, Shin waits a fraction a second. For the enemy to swing.

And he does, and it commits him to the attack, leaving him no room to dodge or re-direct - not with that much momentum in motion.

Shin ducks. The glove explodes past his head; slices through the air an inch above his ear. A drop of sweat off Kujo's forearm falls and breaks on the nape of Shin's neck, and Shin ripostes with a hard jab to the taller boy's midsection, flickers back, punches the same spot with the other fist and dances two steps away.

All in less than a second.

Kujo stumbles, gasping. One hand drops to the muscled pad of his stomach, as if he can't believe what just happened. Then he pulls it back into stance, and his grin widens even more.

"Damn, you're strong!" he says. "That shirt puts some serious work in, hiding all those muscles, eh?"

Shin's not exactly sure what he's supposed to say to that, so he chooses not to say anything.

"Yeah, I wouldn't know what to say to that either."

Kujo is apparently a mind reader. He laughs.

He holds his position this time, evidently waiting for Shin to make the first move.

So he does.

One foot, then another. Bounding steps, quick and powerful, and they meet. Kujo's taller, so he has greater reach. He's already swinging. He's got bigger muscles too, which gives him a power advantage. If he connects, it'll hurt. And badly. But Shin is Onyx. And more than that, he's a Nouzen. The battlefield runs in his veins.

Kujo is fast for his size.

Shin is faster.

Kujo's fist ripples past Shin's temple, bright red vinyl consuming half his sight. It grazes the skin and cuts it, and blood spills over one eye. Shin doesn't stop. He doesn't even feel it. No pain, just adrenaline. He drives home a left hook to the kidney. Force of impact through his glove, fingers straining. Feels good. Kujo stumbles. His eyes glaze over and Shin follows through with an uppercut to the chin, hard enough to knock his skull all the way back, leave him staring at the ceiling, throat exposed.

He hears the voice of his Nouzen master whisper in his ear. Finish it. Crush his throat. Kill him. He catches his foot inching forward, fingers twitching inside the glove to do exactly that, and stops himself.

Kujo staggers back two steps. He gives a groan that rumbles deep out of his chest. He shakes his head from side to side before raising his glove in surrender.

"Christ man, that's one hell of an arm you've got. Thought my head got ripped clean off for a sec, there." He laughs again. Apparently Kujo does a lot of that.

Shin could feel the adrenaline draining out of him. It left his muscles loosened one by one, each aching pleasantly.

"Thank you," Shin said. "You were pretty good too." He tossed off his gloves and traced the cut across his temple. It was a superficial wound, not much deeper than half a centimeter at most if he were to guess, but head wounds always bled a lot, and hurt a lot too. He couldn't feel the sting yet, but that would settle in soon enough.

"I'd hope so! I've been the Squadron's boxing champ since day one. Not even Werewolf over there stood a chance against me." He jabbed a thumb at Raiden, who appeared inordinately pleased to see Kujo be beaten.

Brighter light poured in from a set of double-doors as Anju entered the training room, folded towels in her hands. Daiya followed behind with a pitcher of ice water - balanced on the top of his blond-haired head.

"See, Anju!" he said triumphantly. "I told you I could do it!"

Anju chuckled into her hand. "Daiya, that's amazing! But don't spill any or I'll kill you."

"Ah, right."

Anju handed Shin a towel, which he took gratefully, and the water Daiya gave him tasted like chilled heaven in a glass.

"So you can shoot almost as good our Gunslinger, and apparently you're a champion boxer too. There anythin' you can't do, Lowell?" Kujo asked after draining his second glass.

Shin shrugged. "I suppose you'll have to find out."

"How does an Alba even get skills like those, anyway?"

"I had to learn to fend for myself," Shin said.

"Can things even get that bad behind the wall?"

Kujo's eyes flitted over the network of scars running up and down Shin's torso, lingering on the scarf he still wore to cover his neck, even after stripping down to his shorts, and then finally up to his eyes, and the flecks of red contained there.

Shin looked him dead in the eye. Kujo referred to the Gran Mur, of course. But in the split second before his reply, Shin thought of a different wall. A ten foot high wall with black crenelations and ornate silver engravings, surrounding the compound of a clan whose name he'd shared, but never anything more.

"Yes," he said softly.

Kujo gave him a nod of sincere understanding, a softness in his expression that hadn't been there earlier.

Shin's memory chose that specific moment to re-assert itself.

In a flood of anamnesis every memory surged back into him. He remembered perfectly how he'd gotten roped into this match.

The Squadron had gathered for lunch in the cafeteria, and there'd been some chatter going on about his and Kurena's contest. Kujo had missed it, apparently, and felt sour over it. He said something about how it was his job to test all the new recruits' mettle, and Kurena had stolen his position out from under him. Then someone (not Shin) suggested that Will looked pretty strong, even if he was on the skinny side, and there were probably other ways to put him to the test, wink wink nudge nudge. And then Shin had been volunteered for an impromptu boxing match.

He wondered why he'd forgotten that. Then he realized how beyond annoyed he had been, because he hadn't even been involved in that conversation. He'd been sitting at a corner table, peacefully reading a novel in between bites of synthetic rice, and before he knew it, he was being dragged into a fight he neither wanted nor needed. And while he didn't mind fighting, it was almost certainly gonna tick Grethe off when he reported back to her (and he would have to report it; like Shiden, Grethe was way too perceptive for his liking, and instantly noticed even lies by omission). And that meant sitting in for another long night of listening to her lecture about the importance of staying safe.

Was it possible to be so enraged that it repressed all your memories? Shin supposed it had to be, because that's exactly what happened.

"Anyway," Kujo said. "I think I promised you dinner, didn't I?"

"'Even if you win!'" Raiden parroted the taunt Kujo had made after issuing his challenge. "'Fat chance of that, though,'" he said, snickering. "Said the guy who got put down in literally four hits."

Kujo's cheeks flushed darkly. "Oh come on, I just said that as a… a sporting jab! I was lightin' a little competitive spirit under him. You know, gettin' him fired up for the match! I was helping!"

"Uh huh."

"Anyway, Will, whaddya want? Whaddya feel like eating? Something greasy and tasty? Some fahn dahning with linen tablecloths and shit? They got plenty of good places near the Hall."

Shin thought about it for a second, one hand on his chin. "Any bars close by?"

Kujo grinned, white teeth flashing in the training room's dim light. "Oh my man. Hell yeah there are."

"Need I remind you that we are all underage?" Anju said.

"If we're old enough to fight, we're old enough to drink!" Daiya replied, straight-backed and proud before he withered beneath Anju's resulting glare. "Uh, I mean, yeah, probably not the best idea…"

"We don't have to go full white hog," Raiden said. "Er, no offense Will."

"None taken."

"We can just drink a little bit. And the bartender's not gonna care. Like Daiya said, if we're old enough to fight, we're old enough to-"

"Hold on, hold on," Kujo interrupted. "I said I was gonna treat Will to a meal. The rest of you weren't a part of the deal."

"Well," Shin said. "You said if I agreed to fight you I could get whatever I want. What if I want to get a shot of bourbon and a basket of fries for everyone in the Squadron?"

"Yeah, Kujo, you gonna go back on your word?" Daiya taunted. "Is that what a real man does?"

"Well, as long as it's just one shot," Anju conceded.

"Sorry buddy, but it's time to put your money where your mouth is." Raiden patted Kujo on the shoulder in conciliation.

The gathered crowd, who'd all been following the discussion with bated breath, excited and anxious about the prospect of free booze, gave a whoop and holler in cheer. Kujo's shoulders sagged.

"I love y'all," he said dejectedly, as if trying to remind himself of it. "But my wallet fucking hates you right now."

—

May 15th

Shin was a talented Feldress operator. He had been since he first stepped into one at ten years old, finding an instant affinity for the controls in the same supernatural vein as his silent footsteps and his effortless dexterity. A gift of his Onyx blood, if he had to guess. That would have been hard to explain to his squadmates, however, given his current disguise, so he'd been ready to hide his true capabilities when it came time to pilot a Juggernaut for the first time.

As it happened, that was unnecessary.

From his very first glimpse of the hard bakelite plastic seat, nested inside a cockpit that looked cramped even with the canopy popped wide open, he knew there'd be no need to fake anything. The thing would be a nightmare to even sit in, let alone to operate.

And it was.

The suspension creaked at every step, to the point that he was sure if he pushed the machine even a little harder, it might snap all the actuators at once. Three tiny view-screens were all he had to see the world through, and they blurred with every movement. He swore he could feel a draft from somewhere in the cockpit, which meant the thing would do absolutely nothing to stop him from dying of smoke inhalation or any other common battlefield hazard.

It was a testament to the Juggernaut's absolutely terrible design that his instructor seemed pleased with him for being able to walk a hundred meters without falling over. On completely flat ground. The fact that Shin could understand why, because it took every ounce of skill he'd developed from a lifetime of Nouzen tutelage just to do that much, only poured salt on the wound.

".:You must have a knack for these things, Lowell:." the boy said. His name was Theo, and he was apparently the most skilled operator they had when it came to mobility. Shin had yet to meet him in person, however. Their schedules hadn't aligned until now. ".:Most guys can't even get them moving on the first try:."

".:I hate this thing:."

Theo laughed. ".:Join the club. It always feels like someone's used my neck for a stress ball after every mission:."

".:You actually fight the Legion in these?:."

".:Yeah. It ends about as well as you'd expect, Maybe one in fifty Processors will survive their first battle. One in ten thousand survive their first year:."

Shin stared at the training ground through his view-screens. It was about a square kilometer of sand and gravel and grass in alternating patches, with a few vertical structures put up from steel beams and quick-pour concrete to simulate ruins. He imagined fighting through an actual battlefield with these controls in his hands, firing full-power rounds through these machine-guns at enemies that could accelerate to double the Juggernaut's max speed in about as much time as it took to blink.

It could be nothing short of hell. He was sure of that.

Theo led him to one of the steel-and-concrete platforms, angling his cockpit up at the highest level, which stood about four stories off the ground.

".:If you ask me, these are the key to survival:." he said, and shot out a pair of wire anchors.

The Personal Mark emblazoned on the flank of Theo's Juggernaut was a stylized fox-head perched on a bolt of green lightning. As Shin watched the Feldress fly its way up, wires reeling at their maximal limit - and listened to its operator holler out wild laughter all the while - he could imagine just how Theo had earned the name of Laughing Fox. The Juggernaut released its wires just before the apex of its arc and skidded to a stop on the concrete. It crawled over to the ledge and peered down at him, the red of its optical sensor glinting in the sun.

".:The first time I used 'em, it was a complete fluke. I didn't even mean to hit the button, I just panicked and smashed random buttons. The wires shot out while I happened to be looking at this building in the distance. I flew just fast enough to dodge a Lowe's cannon that was zeroed on me. If even one thing had gone different, I would have been vaporized that day. But that experience did teach me just how valuable your wire anchors are, when the rest of your machine moves like a glob of syrup:.

".:Anyway, they work just like your other weapons. You have to switch selection with the left stick, then you hit the triggers like you would for your main gun. For about thirty meters or so, it's basically direct fire. Just point and click where you wanna go. Past that, you gotta adjust for elevation. It's not too hard once you get the hang of it:."

Theo ran him through a few other nuances before inviting him to try and meet him at the top. And when Shin managed it on the third try (aiming too low, and then too high on the first and second), he could feel Theo's grin through the Para-RAID, genuinely proud to see him succeed.

The wire anchors in his Reginleif made for a smooth ascent. The acceleration pushed him back into his chair, and the landing could send a shudder through his joints if he didn't brace properly, but the stress of using them was minimal compared to this. As the Juggernaut reeled in toward the structure, he had felt himself being flattened against his chair, and the scream of metal coming from every part of his rig had not been comforting in the slightest. Add to it a motley of bruises from the hours of training he'd already went through, and even his Onyx-enhanced stamina was starting to waver.

".:Let's take a break here for awhile:." Theo suggested.

Shin had no reason to say no. So they stood there for awhile, at the top of the concrete platform with the sound of gently blowing wind coming through their speakers, rattling the flimsy frame of their cockpits and blowing drafts through the unsealed portions.

".:Got a question for you, Lowell:."

".:Yes?:."

A hesitance came over the other boy, a thrum of nervousness through the Para-RAID, like a prickling sensation on his skin. It was so faint Shin barely sensed it. He wondered if Theo was even aware of it himself.

".:There's been a few rumors about why you got transferred to Sword. Raiden's been putting down most of them. He says he doesn't want anyone spreading anything about you unless it's something you said yourself. So I was, uh, curious, I guess:."

".:About my transfer? Why?:."

".:No reason… not really. I just heard there was an interesting story behind it, is all:."

Shin wondered again about that green-eyed, blond boy he'd taken the fall for. The boy wore a black uniform just like the one he was in now, which meant he was a Sword student too. Shin hadn't seen him around yet, but Aegis Hall was a big building, and there were quite a few other Squadrons, so he didn't think much of it. He wondered if telling the truth would implicate the boy somehow. Nearly two weeks had passed since then, but the Alba were nothing if not vindictive. Any mistake at all could see a Colorata expelled, even a weeks-old one.

And of course, expulsion meant death.

".:No, there's no story:." Shin said, and didn't quite think it was a lie. He had been truthful with Shiden when he said he hadn't done anything. Except standing and staring, he supposed. He had done a lot of that.

".:I heard you punched one of the foot-ball players who's always giving us trouble:." Theo said insistently.

A pause on the line. Shin glanced to his right view-screen, at Theo's Juggernaut, wondering what would make him so curious about a passing rumor. Then a thought occurred to him: it had been running in the back of his mind for awhile, ever since training started today, that he'd found Theo's voice faintly recognizable.

".:That was you, wasn't it?:." Shin said.

Another pause. A longer one.

".:Yeah:." Theo said in a sigh of breath. ".:I wanted to find out your side of the story without you realizing that, but, uh, since the cat's out of the bag, I guess I'll just ask. Why'd you do it?:."

".:Does it matter?:."

".:Kinda. You wouldn't believe how many self-righteous wannabe saints we deal with out here. Alba who pity us, and try to help us by treating us like charity cases, like poor wretches in need of saving. I hate them. I hate them even worse than the ones like Nero - at least they're honest with themselves about seeing us as garbage:.

".:So I guess I wanna know if you're like that or not:."

".:And you think I'd tell you if I was?:."

".:I think I'd have figured it out by now if you were. But so far, it doesn't seem like it. It's kind of fucking with my head, to be honest. I had it figured 'til now that only those two types existed. Not like I've ever met any others:."

It was ironic, then, that if Theo were to learn that Shin wasn't even an Alba at all, everything would make perfect sense to him.

".:To be honest, my only real thought was that you were acting like an idiot, and you'd get yourself killed if I didn't do something:."

Theo laughed. ".:That's… pretty fair:."

".:I suppose if you were Alba, I wouldn't have stepped in. But if you were Alba, you wouldn't get thrown outside the wall just for fighting someone:."

".:Honestly, I was being an idiot. I wasn't thinking straight. I was just angry. Angry at that asshole, angry at this place, angry at everything. And yeah, I… guess I did need you to save me:." A pause. A flush of embarrassment on the line, then a few more words quickly addended, ".:That time! Just that time:.

".:But, well, thanks anyway:." he concluded lamely.

Shin smiled. He found himself wishing, not for the first time, that the expression could stand true to itself, and not wrapped up in a dozen different lies. Wishing that he wouldn't have to think of Kette every time he found himself liking these people.

He felt he understood them. His life and theirs had not been the same. And yet in some ways, they were. Like the 86, he'd grown up a tainted child. Seen as less than human, as something that didn't deserve to exist. Treated that way, too. By his clan, of course - not his entire country, and the difference between the two was profound. As were many others. They did not have the same experiences.

And yet the feeling remained. He understood them.

That made it all the worse, then, because he was helpless but to remember, always and always and always like a millstone looped round his neck, that he was a murderer a thousand times over. Maybe these people felt the same. Maybe they thought that even if Will's struggles were not their own, maybe they were close enough to be understood.

But of course, Will wasn't real. Will was just a mask.

".:You're welcome:." Shin replied, and hated himself for caring.

Actually managing to post on time, can you believe it?

Hope y'all are doing well. I myself am having a great day. A friend of mine who reads this fic actually drew some art for Kiriya's Vanagandr, Pale Rider, and it. is. amazing. I'm gonna share it on AO3, the other fanfic website this fic is posted to, because AO3 actually lets you post images in your fics. I didn't even ask him to or anything, he just did it, because he's amazing. Y'all are amazing too. Thank you for reading this far, and I hope you continue to do so, because I am basically shackled to this fic and will not be escaping it until it's done, so it's nice to have some company alongside.

- Verbosity