Chapter Fourteen: The Fortunate

Knock knock.

The sound seemed foreign as it rang through the silent and still inside of the Windmill. It was that sound that caused Naoya to crack open his eyes, and he spent a good minute or two staring exhaustively at the rickety boards of the ceiling - briefly wondering just where the hell he was before the memory of the previous day's events slowly reminded him that he was, in fact, still right where he had been. The early sun's light peeked through the dirty glass of the windows - and Naoya had no idea what time it was, or how long they'd been gone, other than a day; other than long enough for the fire in the hearth to die down to some red embers - which was certainly enough time to ensure they'd probably all be in trouble.

With an irate glare at the general interior of the Windmill, he stubbornly pulled the blanket over his head rolled over so that he was curled into the back of the couch, trying to snuggle as close as he could to the warmest part.

"Nna, stop that," the warmest part groaned, half slurring from disturbed sleep.

Naoya tried to further nudge himself into the couch cushions when the knocking came again. And then a voice from the other side. Who could possibly be knocking on this door, all the way out here?

"Nao-" Sokka yawned, uselessly swatting twice at the covered psychic's head, "Naoya, go get the door." He rolled his head to get his eyes away from the light.

"You get it," Naoya sleepily mumbled into the couch.

"No get, only sleep." Sokka tried one more time to push Naoya out from almost being nestled between him and the couch, but gave up in favor of shifting onto his side and resting his head on the couch arm. It smelled like must and stale air, but it was a luxury pillow in that rare instance he was able to sleep in. If they were going to get in trouble, might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

But when the door unlocked itself and started to push open, Sokka was upright in a heartbeat - practically slamming his hands down on the couch and trying to be ready for whatever came through the door. However instead of an enemy, he saw only Remus peeking his head through the front door.

"Hey," Sokka said, somewhat accusedly, as he sunk back into a less tense posture and obviously tried to shake the vestiges of sleep from himself, "You're the stick guy."

"Tell him we don't want any," Naoya mumbled, starting the stretch out the full length of the couch.

"Naoya? Sokka?" Remus' voice was worse than an alarm clock. "What happened to you? Where are the twins? Is everyone alright?" He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, craning his neck to look around.

"Upstairs," Naoya pointed with half-limp fingers. "Sleeping, still. Maybe. With all the noise you're making, I doubt it."

Sokka had leaned back against the couch, but was quickly losing the battle for any remaining space to one hazel-haired psychic. "How did you find us?"

"And what time is it?" Naoya added.

"It's half-seven," Remus replied dismissively. He was already halfway up the stairs, was silent for a moment, and then crept back down. "Naoya, what's happened while you were gone? Why are you out here? We've been looking for you since dawn!"

Naoya frowned, trying his best to melt into the couch but without success. He just wanted to sleep. Was that so much to ask? He opened his mouth to say something, but a yawn came out instead. He tried again: "That's comforting, considering we went missing yesterday."

"We went out on a fishing trip," Sokka said. He pushed himself up, visibly lamenting the loss of the soft cushions beneath him. "We told Ren before we left where we were going. But we were attacked by a bioraptor, and we couldn't make it back in time for sunset."

"A bioraptor?" Remus repeated. "Those winged reptiles?"

Sokka nodded. "Mabel lead us here, and we spent the night to stay safe. How did you find us? ...How did you even get here if it's only seven-thirty?"

"Apparition," said Remus. "I almost didn't come here at all. I thought that perhaps it was too far away. But now that I have, we need to go back immediately-Wash and the others are waiting."

"Wait, they're not with you?" Naoya perked up. One golden eye was left open. "Where's Anders?"

Remus pursed his lips. "Anders is... not fit for travel."

Naoya blinked. "If you came here by yourself, you could let us sleep. Just tell them you had trouble finding us. We were attacked by a bioraptor. We need our recovery sleep. Tell them you had trouble finding us."

Remus watched Naoya burrow back into the couch. "Naoya," he said slowly, crossing his arms.

Naoya didn't reply.

"Naoya," Remus said again, only this time he sighed quietly and his brow rose with impatience. Then, he had an idea. "Sokka, will you rouse the twins, please?"

As Sokka disappeared up the stairs, Naoya still refused to move. And he was completely unaware that Remus had begun to draw his wand.

The morning mist continued to melt away as the five of them began the slow trek back to the vault. The early air was cooler and the wind was calm, though the smell of the sea continued to grow as they approached the ocean nonetheless. Thousands of birds sang sacred tunes for miles around, filling the forest with the essence of life. It was something they would have appreciated if they were not grating on one another's nerves.

"Why couldn't we have Appeared?" Dipper whined, adjusting his hat over sleep-crusted eyes. "Why do we have to walk all this way?"

"We walked this whole way like fifty times when we were looking for Naoya," Mabel rubbed her eyes, keeping even pace with Remus. "It's not that bad. You've just been cooped up in the Vault."

Remus sighed, secretly wishing that he could have used magic. But, "I would have needed to Apparate each one of you individually," he explained. "And being as you're all physically exhausted and very hungry, it may have been too much of a toll on your bodies." Merlin forbid one of them accidentally slip in transit and become Splinched.

"Now you're worried about the toll of magic on someone's body," Naoya spat, arching his brows.

"You're just mad because he got you out of bed with magic," Sokka smirked.

Naoya returned the speech with a haughty look. "Magic is cheating."

"And what are your powers?"

"A natural ability that I don't need any hocus pocus for," Naoya grumbled. His hands were stiffly in his pockets as he walked, and his eyes traced the ground for roots popping up in between the multiple trails.

Sokka had taken the lead from Remus after quite some time with no conversation. It was clear by the way he held his shoulders and head that he knew the area thoroughly. He strode with purpose, and it threatened to leave the others behind if they did not work to keep up. By late morning, they were nearly halfway there.

"We're going to be in so much trouble," Sokka moaned to himself. "And we don't even have a catch to show for it. It was a completely pointless trip."

"You're the one who suggested we go," Naoya mentioned beside him, leaning close and beaming a cutesy smile.

Sokka glared.

"They already know that I've found you," Remus mentioned idly. "And I've made them aware of your situation. Perhaps that will help ensure that they won't be in such a state when we arrive."

"How did you tell them all that?" Dipper asked, quite curious. "We don't even have phones out here."

"A patronus," Remus explained. "I sent one ahead with a message."

"What does it look like?"

"It depends on the person," Remus said. "Each one has a different manifestation, though they take the form of animals."

"Can I see?"

"My patronus?"

Dipper nodded a little too excitedly. "I heard you're magic, but I haven't seen it yet. I haven't seen the other guy do any magic either. How cool is it, though, y'know?"

Remus' brow gave a small, thoughtful roll. "I could cast the spell, though you might be disappointed. They don't necessarily manifest as an animal every time. It may be more of a... well, a mist."

"I want to see!" Mabel bounced.

"Yeah!" Dipper echoed.

Remus quelled a sigh, taking up his wand again and thinking of an appropriate memory. "Expecto Patronum!"

As anticipated, a blue-white form shot from the tip of his wand and galloped through the forest on agile legs-four legs, with a swishy tail that fell behind it like that of a comet and disappeared into nothing. The twins' eyes were alite with stars.

"It's a fox!"

"Are you crazy, Mabel? It's totally a dog!"

"No, it's-it's a unicorn!"

"It was too short to be a unicorn," Dipper replied, tossing his hands up. "You would know, right?"

Mabel giggled. "Oh, yeah," she laughed. "But she deserved what she got."

Remus stared. "I'm sorry?"

"Mabel beat up a unicorn." Dipper rolled his eyes as though this were average dinner talk.

Naoya let out a hearty laugh at the look on Remus' face.

"I had fun, though," Mabel sighed, smiling. "Other than the monsters, I think the trip was worth it. This is nice."

From the front of the party, Sokka made a noise of complete defeat and threw his hands up. He let his stride lengthen and once more tried to separate from the group. But he didn't make it far before stopping completely.

"Hello, friends!"

There, just to the side of a crossroads between animal paths, was a very familiar, very unexpected figure wearing a cat mask. The leaves made a game of light and shadow across his white sweater as Zacharie waved them over to him with a hand that firmly gripped a navy blue comb. He was facing precisely their path, leaning nonchalantly against an elm as though he had been expecting them.

Mabel ran forward with a smile. "Zacharie!"

Zacharie reached up to touch the cheek of his mask, where sat a rainbow sticker kitten holding a ball of twine. His voice was as soft and empty as ever. "Buenos dias, Mabel."

Remus drew in beside her with caution. "No stand today, Zacharie?" he asked.

The cat mask turned in a motion so fluid it seemed unnatural. "No. I am waiting here to have my fortune read."

Sokka snorted, brushing his shoulder. "You've been waiting all this time for someone else to come along? And who's going to tell your fortune out here? The trees?"

"Not the trees," Zacharie replied, nonplussed. "You are."

Sokka crossed his arms, incredulous. "Me? Yeah, no. I'm not telling any fortunes. Fortunes aren't even real, first of all, and second, I'm not a seer."

"But it has to be you," the voice of the mask explained. "It has to be the first person that I see on this crossroad. Or else this particular method of fortune telling-" he held up the blue comb "-will not quite work."

"It's not going to work anyways, because it's fortune telling!" Sokka looked at the others as he said this, expecting the others to offer affirming nods.

"But Sokkaaaa," Mabel whined, latching onto his arm. "Humor him. What if it works? Pleaseeee?"

Sokka groaned, staring at her puppy dog eyes as long as he could manage to hold out. Finally, he broke, and looked back to Remus and Naoya. "Really? The wizard and the psychic don't want to do the fortune telling?"

Naoya put a thoughtful finger to a cheeky smile. "I'm not that kind of psychic. But my cousin is, though."

"Fine!" Sokka crossed his arms, managing to look both highly cross and very uncomfortable at the same time. "Fine! I'll tell you your fortune." Then he eyeballed Zacharie up and down with narrowed eyes, stopping abruptly when he spotted the pack laid carefully beside the merchant and up against a tree. A devious grin took root.

"Your fortune," he said, "is that you're going to give me those knives you showed me a few weeks back. And," he added quickly, "you are destined to give me them for free."

Remus, Naoya, Dipper, and Mabel all turned to Sokka, dumbstruck. But Zacharie merely shrugged, his palms up.

"I suppose I cannot argue with that," he said pleasenly, striding back to his bag and beginning to sift through to find the weapons in question.

"Me!" Mabel jumped in the air now, her earrings swinging wildly with her hair. "Me! Do me! Somebody read my fortune!"

Dipper grabbed her hand before she could jump again. "But Mabel, he said he had to wait for somebody to come here. We don't have that kind of time, y'know?"

Mabel's shoulders dropped, and Zacharie paused. "Do not worry. Because you have technically come across me as well, I can also read your fortunes in return."

Mabel's smile was full of sunlit braces. "YES! DO ME! DO ME FIRST!"

"I am afraid, dear Mabel," Zacharie's hollow tones conveyed, "that I must return Sokka's fortune first. If he wants one, that is," he added, turning to him.

Sokka's face was a deep frown, forming actual creases in his youthful face. He glanced to the others and sighed. "I hate all of you," he murmured.

"Yay!" Mabel grinned, hugging him excitedly. "Fortunes, fortunes!"

Zacharie passed the comb over, making a brushing motion with his thumb. "You must brush the tines of the comb three times," he explained, "and then cover your face with something cloth. Perhaps a blanket, or a coat."

"But Zacharie," Mabel said, "you didn't cover your face!"

The merchant's only reply was to slowly reach up with his oddly pale fingers and touch the mouth of his cat mask.

"Alright, let's just get this over with," Sokka grumbled. He dragged his fingers over the comb's teeth, and then covered his face with his hands. "Mredy," he said through muffled lips.

"Hm." Zacharie circled the warrior for several interrupted minutes, trailing anticipation thickly in his wake. "Hm. No peeking," he told Sokka, who flinched.

Then, after one more complete circle, Zacharie knit his fingers together and placed them upon his chin. "I have a strong feeling that you will get a stern talking to," Zacharie chuckled lightly, and Sokka let his hands drop into tight fists as he let out a frustrated growl.

"That's not a real fortune!" he snapped. "He probably heard us in the woods, and knew just what to say!"

"Now me!" Mabel said again before Sokka could go on. "My turn, right? Right?" She snatched the comb from a still-fuming Sokka, bouncing on her heels.

"And Dipper," Zacharie said. "As twins, your destinies are so closely linked that I can read your fortunes together."

"Here!" Mabel shoved the comb into Dipper's open palms and her bag into his face. "Hurry, hurry!"

"Okay, okay!" Dipper cried, swatting her away. "Sheesh!"

Once they had both strummed their fingers along the comb and hidden their faces, Zacharie went on. "I regret to inform you that summer does not last forever," he said sagely. "Also, someone shoots your uncle."

There was a ghostly silence in which Mabel and Dipper both paled. "...What?"

"Yes," replied the merchant, and his mask gave a thoughtful tilt to the side. "It will not be as fun as you would wish for summer's end. But then, change rarely is."

"What are you even-Which uncle?!"

"I do not know, Dipper," Zacharie shrugged, indifferent. "They both look the same. They are twins."

Mabel grabbed Dipper's arm, and the Pines both looked at one another, horror-struck.

"Now you," Zacharie continued, plucking the comb up and handing it to Naoya.

Naoya stepped back, glancing over to the twins. He hesitated. "Uh.."

Zacharie made no motion of his body, continuing only to stare at Naoya with false, unmoving eyes. Slowly, very slowly, Naoya took the comb and followed the instructions.

Now, like a shark, Zacharie circled him as well. The forest was green and yellow in the noonday sun, but the air had grown cold and the shadows between the trees were deep and dark. In the silence as they waited for the fortune, there were no birds nor insects singing in the woods to keep them company.

"Your fortune is interesting," Zacharie said suddenly. "I see two paths in your future: a forked path, depending on one choice you will make here, on your journey. You already know what awaits on one path, though, and that path is the one you will choose to stop short."

Naoya looked as though he had had the wind knocked out of him, and the hand that sent the comb along was shaking slightly.

It was now Remus' turn, and he stared at the comb in his hand as though it were a hot piece of coal. "I'm not certain I want to," he said slowly, meeting Zacharie's gaze.

"It is not necessary," Zacharie shrugged. The wind jostled the strings of his mask as they hung beside his ears. "But you will not get this chance again. And you cannot put a price on the future-believe me, I have tried."

But Remus read the expressions on the faces of the others. He did not need to see any more to know something was wrong. "I don't think-"

"There is much blood in your future," Zacharie cut him off, pacing around Remus with hands held carefully behind his back. Had he always been so tall? "It is under your claws. There are coffins under the snow, and they burn in a black fire."

"Take it." Remus held the comb out. The teeth bit into his skin. "Take it. I think that will do," he said, but there was a break in his tone, a quiet shattering behind his words, and though his hand was quite steady everyone could see that the man himself was not.

Zacharie took the comb and tucked it back into his pocket without another word. He bowed, scooping up the dual knives that he had put to rest atop his bag, and handed them to Sokka. "You are a good fortune-teller," he said. "Perhaps one day you will consider giving it a try."

And then, with a delicate wave, he saw himself down the path that the others had come from without so much as a goodbye. After his shadow disappeared around the corner, a robin began to sing somewhere in the canopy.

"... I want to go home," Mabel whimpered softly.

Roused by her voice Remus swallowed, stiffening his shoulders. "Yes. Yes, let's-let's go," he said, ushering each of them on and leaving the crossroads far, far behind.

"You didn't even tell anyone you left!" Wash's tone was harsh, and none of them would look her in the eye. "You went out on a trip for supplies, and that can be appreciated-but you left without warning, without permission, and without protection!"

Their voices echoed in the high, arched ceilings of the main chamber. The four children sat in a neat row on one of the sunken couches, and in front of them the four adults stood over them like a panel of judges.

"We told Ren," Sokka tried, holding his arms out in defense. "We told him just before we left. We walked right past him, and he saw us leave!"

All eyes turned to Renkotsu, who did not flinch at the spears of their gazes. "I do not remember any such conversation," he stated.

Wash set her hands firmly at her hips, turning back to Sokka with an ever deepening scowl. But Sokka backed down-not from her fury, but from Renkotsu. There was hurt in his eyes. The twins would not look the adults in the face, and there was a brutal, aggravated pause.

"I want to know why," Wash said. "Why you didn't ask for help! Why you would think that going out alone was acceptable, even if your intentions were good! You know what's out there. You know what we've all been through. And still, you went alone."

Sokka could see in the faces of the adults that they agreed with this. It was in the way they shared knowing glances, and in the way they held themselves over the children like absolute figureheads. His fingers clenched into fists: they were not figureheads in this, not in the least. Two of them hadn't even been here long enough for Sokka to know their names, and they were standing over him, judging him?

"You say that like we're just kids!" he retorted. "But Wash goes out hunting with me every week! She knows I'm a skilled warrior! And Naoya has his... his powers! We weren't just being stupid kids, okay? It's fine when you go out, but when we do it then its suddenly crazy?"

No one dared move. No one dared speak.

Wash stared him down, her eyes burning like fire. On either side of her jaw, the muscles clenched as she ground her teeth.

"It was my idea to go," Naoya interjected, his voice cutting through the tension in the air like a knife. "It was my idea." He stepped towards Wash, Ren, and the others, his mouth set in a line. "I figured it would lighten the mood."

Wash's head turned towards Naoya, her mouth set in a snarl. Her eyes were narrow and hard, and she absorbed the sight of the lanky form before her as though debating whether such an admission was even worth tearing apart after everything else-as though debating whether this was audacity, or stupidity. Powerful shoulders squared up and she stood over the four of them like a mountain.

Then, she put a hand on her forehead.

"Go," she half-growled. "Just go. We'll talk about this later."

Sokka was the last to get up as the others scooted by him. The four youngest residents disappeared down the residential corridor without another word.

"We really ought to do something about that problem."

Wash let out a frustrated sigh, turning to the monk. "What problem?"

Renkotsu frowned, as though it should have been obvious. "The inhuman boy," he said. The words slithered from between his lips. "This was not his first offense. He should be confined to his quarters before he does something even more reckless."

"Now hold on," Anders blurted sharply, stepping forward. "This was purely an accident! You heard them! You can't just confine Naoya to his room for something all four of them decided to do!"

"But you cannot deny that Itsuki is a primary instigator," Renkotsu replied without a skip. His gaze was trained on Anders, sizing him up.

"Confinement is not the answer," said Anders.

"Then what would you do about this problem? We let creatures like him run freely around the Vault, and soon we'll be overrun with balverines."

"Naoya is a boy," Anders growled. "He's a person, not a creature!"

"And I do not think," said Remus slowly, "that Naoya would be the type to suggest such a trip at all."

"So you suggest that he lies," Renkotsu countered. "Why?"

"Wouldn't you, to protect your friend?" Remus gesured to the hall where the children had just disappeared. "The decision to go out was one they made together. It was written on their faces. But Sokka stood up, dared to speak-and only when he did that did Naoya dare even to move. I do not suggest that punishment be avoided altogether, but there are other things going on. Naoya is not solely responsible, Renkotsu, as much as you wish to think."

Renkotsu straightened, crossing his arms. "Itsuki is seventeen. He may be a boy, but he is technically a man. And he claimed responsibility. As such, he must face the consequences."

"No." Wash was not quite as red as before, but her eyes were still backlit by flame. Even so, as she flexed her fingers in and out of loose fists, her demeanor was shifting. She tilted her temple to one side. "They all get confinement. Remus has a good point: they did this together. They're all responsible. They stay in their rooms until we decide what else to do."

"I do not think that will solve the problem, Lieutenant," Renkotsu scathed. His hands swung out to his sides. "We need a more permanent solution!"

"What else would you have me do, kill him?" Wash shouted at him. "They're the first real people we've seen in a long time, Ren! I realize that's how mercenaries like you do it, but we can't go killing everyone that's not trying to kill us for once!"

"If you show compassion when faced with demons," Renkotsu hissed, "they will rip you apart at the first chance they get."

Anders once again broke silence. "There are no demons here," he said. "I've fought more demons than you can count. I think I would know."

Renkotsu simply stared. "Then you know nothing."

"Enough, both of you! This is getting us nowhere!" Wash turned in a small circle, one hand on her hip and the other on her head. "You"-she pointed to Anders and Remus-"you take care of Naoya and the twins. I'll handle Sokka."

There was not so much an agreement as there were two affirmative nods. Beside them, Rekotsu was silent, but grave. In the fallout, the tense air tasted like ozone. One by one, each of the adults went their separate ways. The air continued to ring noiselessly with the echo of their fight after they were long gone.

"Remus?"

Anders knocked on the bedroom door before entering. It would have been just as easy to think of it as "their" bedroom, but somehow that didn't feel right. Years of community living made Anders indifferent to sharing spaces. The Wardens had shared tents, shared rooms. And before them, the Circle apprentices all shared large rooms full of bunk-beds. Even the baths were not private, nor even the graduated mage's quarters. There was never privacy in the Circle, so the idea that he and Remus share the master bedroom had not crossed Anders' mind as strange. But he was not blind, and he could tell that Remus was not as comfortable with the arrangement. Regardless of whatever Remus said about shared living quarters at his old wizard school, the fact was that Remus was now no longer used to living with another. It was clear in how he made sure to never change in front of Anders, not even just a shirt; in how he split the queen bed down the middle, and arranged the halves on opposite ends of the room and as far away from each other as possible. And it was evident in the way that he spent as little time in the room as possible-especially if a certain mage was present.

If he was so put out by two beds in a single room, the least Anders could do was knock before walking in.

"Remus? I have those supplies you wanted. Remus?"

Anders waited another few seconds before the silence permitted him entry. When the mechanical doors split apart to admit him, Anders still paused before stepping through. Part of him still feared them closing on him, or some other gruesome mishap. Once inside, he set a small pouch on the foot of his bed and threw himself down beside it. The springs in the mattress had him bouncing for a second. Anders still needed to get used to that.

"Maker take that man," Anders muttered to the ceiling. The overhead light was hidden behind a glass shade, but that did not prevent it from giving him a splitting headache. He wondered what would happen if Remus came back and he had shattered the bulb.

He couldn't blame his headache on that, though, not really; not when the two of them had foolishly remained awake. The fight swam in and out of Anders' every other thought, keeping him from finding peace. He was lucky to have been given something to do, lest he focus on it completely. But even that had come to an abrupt end. Why would Remus ask for supplies, and then disappear? What were they even for?

A rattling sound broke him of his thoughts. Lifting his head to stare beyond his body, Anders saw nothing out of the ordinary. He sat up, feeling his limbs tense.

"Did you..?" he asked, but immediately Justice indicated otherwise. No, neither of them sensed anything. So then, what?

The rattling came back, and Anders' head tilted. It was coming from-Remus' bed? Black boots hit the metal floor and thumped across the room. Laying at an angle across the half-folded blanket was a dusty, tan and brown messenger bag that shook slightly as he approached. Anders stared at it, imagining some strange creature living inside a bag deep within the Vault for all these years.

Justice bid him open it, to face what was inside. Anders reminded him gently about the value of individual digits.

The debate was ended for them, however, when the flap at the top of the bag suddenly burst open with a heaving twitch, and a hand emerged from within.

"Andraste's fucking tits!" Anders cried, staring at Remus as he climbed out of the bag as though it was completely normal, day-to-day mundanity. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? What on earth is this?"

Now half-laying on the bed, Remus kicked the bag off of his shoes to finally be free of it. "It's a tighter squeeze than I like," he said with a sigh, "but it should do."

Anders gawked at him. "Do what, exactly?"

"Whatever we need," Remus replied casually. He swung his feet to the floor and ran his hands through his hair. Once he finished, he stuck his wand behind one hear and stood to observe his work, taking it in his hands.

"Within reason, of course," he went on. "It's just a bag, obviously, but this should help us as we travel. No more of this 'never having what we need' nonsense. I found it in one of the closets. With this, we can carry more and it won't be a burden on us."

Anders' gaze fell on the bag, which from the outside looked as normal as ever. He held his hands out, and as soon as Remus handed it over he could feel a small, magical residue on the cloth. He felt Remus' eyes on him as he opened the top of the bag and put his arm inside. And then, his elbow. Then, his entire arm.

"It's cold," he said, and his body gave an involuntary shiver as he withdrew his arm.

"It's just the inside of the bag," Remus replied, as though it should have been obvious.

"You... expanded it?" Remus nodded, but Anders wasn't satisfied. He opened the bag again, this time holding it open and scanning the inside for the bottom. But the inside was nothing but blackness, and Anders was met with a sensation near the base of his spine that whispered that the space went on forever. But that just wasn't possible... was it?

"You just crawled out of a bag," he said, and the words still sounded wrong to his ears. "How deep is it? And how will we hold everything inside? Won't it be too heavy?"

Remus indicated with an idle hand that Anders should sit down. "First, it's only wide enough for one person, maybe two. It's just a bag, you see-it can't be expanded very much before the magic begins to warp the contents and it becomes unstable. Second, we charm everything to make it near weightless, as best we can. I don't imagine we'll ever fill the space entirely, but a supply of rations and some water would be invaluable. And perhaps a tent..."

Anders turned the bag over in his hands again before tossing it back to Remus. "How did you even think of this? It's marvelous."

The answer was a curt roll of green eyes, and a bitter smile. "Would you believe that I slept in a suitcase more than once?" Remus asked.

"I wouldn't have before now," Anders replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can't imagine it's comfortable."

"Not at all," Remus laughed sadly. "But sometimes I had nowhere else to go, and the rain and snow are rather uncomfortable. But the idea truly did not occur to me until one night some years ago, when I was trying to find work in a small town in the north of the country. I had persuaded the owner of the inn to let me stay a night or two, provided I pay as soon as I found work. As you might predict from my retelling it did not bode well, and I was swiftly evicted. This was, of course, on the cusp of the full moon. I was desperate, and that will drive a man to do some very, er, interesting things. I don't think it would have occurred to me otherwise."

Anders imagined a travel bag writhing in the woods under the moonlight, and almost couldn't suppress what he hoped was a laugh. "I believe you," he said with an apologetic smile. "That's too good to end up in a story."

"In any event," said Remus, "there is enough tension here that there is no harm in being prepared to move on."

And there it was. They were both thinking it, of course they were. But to hear it said out loud like that was not quite the soft blow Anders was hoping for.

"You think what happened with Naoya and Sokka will sever the alliance," he said quietly.

Remus signed before answering, considering his words with care. "Not necessarily. But as yet the Lieutenant is the only one willing to work with us. The only common ground we all have is the need to go home, but that does not necessarily mean that we do it together. One mistake should not endanger us, but it does not help us."

"Renkotsu is wrong," Anders replied. "He's wrong about Naoya. He's wrong about all of us, all of the others. But I don't think Naoya was truthful, either. You made a good point before: can you really see him touching a dead fish with a ten-foot staff?"

The corners of Remus' mouth gave a slight turn upwards at the image. "No," he said.

Anders let himself lay back against the mattress, covering his face with his hands. "Shit," he sighed. "Oh, and"-he reached behind him, tossing the pack of supplies across the room-"you wanted these."

"Oh, yes, thank you." Remus turned the pack over, spilling the contents across the sheets. "Bandages, rubbing alcohol... Oh, and even a pair of tweezers. This will start a fine kit. I hope it wasn't a bother collecting these?"

"It's never a bother if no one notices them missing," was all Anders replied. "Besides, I am the most experienced medic here. If I need supplies for whatever reason, nobody will miss them. Has Naoya come out yet?"

Remus was suddenly quiet. "No," he said softly. "Although the news of being confined to quarters tends to make some people upset. I'm not surprised he hasn't come out."

Anders watched him count packets of alcohol wipes for a moment. But before he could reply, there was a strange buzzing sound that made both of the men jump. After a moment, it rang out again.

"Is that"-Remus went to the doorway and poked his head into the living room-"a doorbell?"

"Listen," Anders said, following him out into the apartment at large. The sound of bare knuckles rapping on the front door was unmistakable.

The magi strode to the door, but hesitated.

"How do you-?"

Remus held his hand out. "The keycard?"

"No, no," Anders said. "It locked by itself after ten. I thought the card was only for-isn't there a button? There always seems to be some sort of button."

"Got it," Remus said, pressing his thumb firmly against a red "LOCKED" button. The doors spread open, and in the center of the archway was a familiar teenager in blue.

Sokka jumped slightly, as if he hadn't expected the door to open at all, before stiffly straightening his posture. "Uh," the sound came out of his mouth as he looked between the two of them. "Is this a bad time?"

The magi exchanged perplexed looks.

"No," Remus replied slowly. "Is everything alright? Do you need something?"

"I, uh," but it was clear that he gave up half way through the sentence, based on the way he defeatedly sighed. Even he couldn't believe he was there, looking for who he was looking for. "I'm just looking for Naoya. But I see you two are busy, sooo..."

Sokka turned to head back down the hallway, but Remus stopped him. "Naoya has been in is room for some time," he explained, backing up to invite Sokka in. "I don't know if he's interested in visitors, but please, come in. I suspect you would not want to be caught out of bounds."

Sokka looked at him. "You don't... care?"

"On the contrary," Remus replied. "I care very much. I see that you are concerned about Naoya, but it's an incredibly dangerous risk after earlier. However, since you are already here, I can at least allow you to talk to him now."

Biting his lip, he briefly considered leaving anyways; but it wouldn't do any good, he had to ask something important and Sokka knew he'd be up all night until his curiocity was sated. He took a step and came inside in much the way someone would dip one foot in water to see if it was cold, before the door closed behind him. "Oh, uh... Thanks. I'm just... gonna go find his room now," he pointed to the hall, moving past the older men.

"That way," Anders pointed to the dual doors surrounding the television. "On the right."

His lips did not curve one way or the other, not really, but something in his expression made Remus certain that beneath his exterior, Anders' wheels were turning. His eyes tracked Sokka until he reached Naoya's door and knocked just as quietly as he had before.

When the teen answered it was obvious that he had been sleeping: as he opened the door, he was wearing nothing but an old white shirt that was much too big on his frame, and black boxer briefs.

"It's my first night in weeks sleeping in an actual bed so this better be good," Naoya growled, expression seeming more like an exhausted toddler, before seeing who was at his door and turning a bright shade of red. "Oh. Um, sorry, Sokky."

He stepped aside to allow Sokka to pass, glancing briefely at the magi before the metal door sealed the rooms once more.

Unlike the room Sokka shared with the twins, Naoya's room was sparce for decorations - nothing was hung up on the floral walls, no trinkets lined the end-table or dresser. Least to say the lighting in the room came only from a lamp on the metal end-table beside the bed, along with Naoya's wallet and that oval "cellphone" thingy he carried with him all the time. A small pile of dirty clothes on the floor in the corner and the messy blankets that looked like something had emerged from a cocoon were the only things that felt like someone actually lived in the room - otherwise it seemed like Naoya was ready to grab his important things and run out the door in a heartbeat should he need to, and that didn't escape Sokka's notice.

Sokka had wanted to ask Naoya why he did what he did for hours, but other questions came up in his train of thought. Why did Naoya take the full blame? Why did he let Naoya take the full blame? Dipper and Mabel were there too, why didn't they say something? It wasn't right on anyone's part, especially Sokka's own; but he was distracted by Ren's distant dismissal, so distracted that he didn't see Naoya step up until Naoya was mid-sentence and all eyes were on him.

But now Naoya was right there before him, flopping back on his bed with a small yawn. Sokka wracked his brain for what he wanted to say; there were so many things that tumbled around in his head, but when he opened his mouth all that came out was: "Why?"

Naoya sleepily rubbed an eye and looked up at Sokka. "Why why?"

"Why did you say it was your idea to go fishing?" Sokka ploughed on, shaking his head. "You didn't even want to go."

"Oh. That." Naoya rolled his eyes, mouth scrunching to the side in a small frown. "Well, they were going to blame me for something anyways, right?" He flashed a quick smile and brushed a few stubborn bangs behind his ear, shrugging. "Besides, you're always so worked up about Wash being upset with you."

And Sokka eyed him, realizing that it made sense. "That's not- You didn't have to-" his mouth set tightly in a confused frown. "She's still kind of upset."

"Right," Naoya pointed at him. "But not at you. She's mostly upset with Naoya, but she also knows the whole getting attacked thing was circumstance." Sensing that he still wasn't getting it through to Sokka one hundred percent, he went on: "She might like to charge, but she stops and listens to reason sometimes too." Naoya looked Sokka right in the eye, starry amber meeting icy blue, in a soft glance that did not downplay what he was saying. "She's never as mad as you're afraid she's going to be."

And those words made Sokka pause for some thought. "I… I know," the words came out gently, as if he had opened his mouth and they had just fallen out. He knew that she wasn't ever as upset as he kept fearing she would be. "It's just… sometimes she's so-" and his voice trailed off, unable to think of the right word. Commanding? Demanding? Neither felt right.

"You just want to make her proud, there's nothing wrong with that," Naoya shook his head, pulling his bare knees up so he sat in a small ball.

The brunet's blue eyes kept going back to Naoya's slender bare legs. He licked his lips, his throat suddenly dry for some reason, going back to Naoya's face. "This conversation would be a lot more meaningful and a lot less weird if you had pants on."

Naoya arched his fine brows, pouty lips curling into a small smile as he settled on his side and propped one leg up, positioning himself centerfold style without breaking eye contact. "Meaning is derived from experience and substance," he said, before breaking into a grin. "And it's only weird if you make it weird."

"Pretty sure you're the one making it weird." Sokka waved his hands out at Naoya, motioning for emphasis.

"Pretty sure you're the one in my room at two in the morning," Naoya haughtily retorted and slid a hand from his hip down the outside of his upper leg, to draw attention to his appropriate attire given the time. Something seemed to click in his head, and his expression changed to an innocently curious one. "What are you doing awake right now anyways? You're usually out cold by this time."

Sokka crossed his arms and shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. I couldn't figure out why you did what you did. But now I know." His fingers curled into his palms. "So… thank you."

Naoya watched him for a moment, eyes widening in the most subtle way, before rolling onto his stomach and burying half his face in the crook of one of his elbows to hide the pink dusting his cheeks. He looked like a sulking house pet of some kind. "Yeah, well. Everybody gets one, Sokky," he managed to mumble through his arm.

When Sokka left - left Naoya's room, left the apartment, left the whole second floor - Naoya finally let out a short groan, his head falling back against the door as his body slid down onto the floor. He idly pulled at his shirt collar to fan himself as his cheeks reddened. His mouth pulled into a solid, miserable little pout.

Naoya knew exactly what was happening.

But there he was, almost tripping himself up because some cute guy said that Naoya was on his mind all day; some cute guy genuinely thanked him, with a genuine emotion that wasn't negative; because for that split second, Naoya could sense that it wasn't his face that was being looked at.

This is getting too hard to ignore, Itsuki, he tried to coax himself. He's your friend. Just friends. That's all anybody ever wants to be with you. Friends.

Anything to try to stop what he knew was happening; anything to stop himself from having feelings of his own. He'd learned his lesson for good after Kaname and Mana; Naoya's own feelings messed everything up for everyone else, so it was just better to not have them. At least that way he didn't do something petty.

But reasoning with the physical evidence wasn't enough.

He's been out here for, like, a year with almost no one else around. If there was anything, it'd be "for the stay". Can't you ever pick out a good time to like someone? Or just stop all together, you know they never like you back in the same way. He stopped fanning himself with his shirt collar and his shoulders sunk, and he sighed very, very deeply.

"I need a smoke," he miserably moaned, clenching his eyes shut burying his face in his hands.
It felt like forever sitting on the floor, deep breathing and trying to stuff his emotions back into a bottle, before he could feel his own feelings ebb back to a controllable state. Well, mostly controllable. He still felt like kissing somebody.

He knew more than anyone that Naoya Itsuki did not listen to Naoya Itsuki.

A/N: Buckle up, things are going to go places fast next chapter!