Into the light:

He sees as well as you do that courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point, which means, at the point of highest reality. A chastity or honesty, or mercy, which yields to danger will be chaste or honest or merciful only on conditions. Pilate was merciful till it became risky.

C. S. LewisThe Screwtape Letters.

Kim ate breakfast, slowly…and neatly, at least. There wasn't the desperate hunger of the addiction or trying to restore what she'd purged. As hungry as she was, she listened to Sensei's warning—her stomach would not handle a quick infusion of heavy food, and if she never barfed again in her life it would be too soon.

For that reason, even though what she really wanted to do was dive in and eat everything in sight, she left a little food on the plate, while drinking down the horrible, horrible milk like concoction that was designed to restore electrolytes and other bodily chemicals. Ron, of course wasn't being nearly as slow in his eating, not that she could blame him. Probably cleaning up after her hadn't really been good for his appetite. She smiled.

I wonder what daddy would say if he knew that Ron not only saw me naked, but put his hands all over me. Her smile flickered and died. She wasn't likely to see dad in the near, or the far future.

Ron continued scarfing his food. He was hungry. Not only that, but he'd just had the first true good nights sleep since they'd arrived.

And it gave him a way to look at KP without being obvious. Now that she was cleaned up and…calm, the changes to her body were if anything, more shocking. In the back of his mind, Ron had entertained the hope that some miracle would restore KP 100 percent after the last bout of upchucking. That was stupid.

Even as Kim ate, Ron saw the slight trembling in her arms as she lifted the cup to her lips. Her arms were thin, the bones apparent through them, and her face was a collection of planes, all the curves burned away, skin stretched painfully over cheekbones. Her normally large eyes were even huger in comparison. Ron hadn't seen her bathe this morning—Kim had claimed she could do it herself, and done so…with Yori standing by. But he had seen her come back, and change out of the robe, and the way her ribs stuck out and the fact that the short walk to the bath had exhausted her to the point of having to sit down were just another indication of how much had been taken from her.

"So, what's th-th-th." Kim bit her lip, waited and spoke normally again. "The sitch, Ron?" She finished. Ron kept the frown off his face. He had no idea where that had come from, but Kim was having problems with stuttering. If she tried to keep talking, it got worse, so she had to just stop and start again. Sensei had mentioned that it was psychological, not physiological, and that it would pass. It couldn't pass fast enough for Ron.

"Well…" Ron said, "after this incredible Snackkage." He grinned, pointing down to the Japanese style meal (and who knew how wonderful real hunger made anything taste), I guess we figure out what to do next." He shrugged, "I have to learn how to be a good fighter, and Sensei says that he has some ideas for you…to get you back up to speed." He grinned, "And then we go back on our world tour!" Kim smiled, but Ron could see the attempt at cheering her up had fallen flat.

I don't want to come back on any tour, Ron. Hirotaka poked his head in the room, with Yori.

"Ah, Ron-san, Sensei would like to speak with you." Ron looked up and back at Kim.

"I'll be fine, Ron…" Kim said,

"And I would like to talk to you, Kim-san, about America." Yori said, sitting down and forestalling any protest. Kim looked like she might protest, but then subsided. She had bitten Yori, as the small bandage on her wrist attested, and so it was hard to try to tell her to leave.

"I'll be back, KP." Ron said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. As he left, Kim touched where she'd felt his lips.

They'd always been fairly easy with each other—for all her dads' threats about rockets and blackholes, notwithstanding, her father had been remarkably…understanding when Kim changed in the room with Ron standing behind a partition. But this Ron… this was a Ron she'd never seen before, the protectiveness. Kim could never reciprocate for all he cared, but in every gesture and move, she saw him care for her…even the way he'd watched her, while eating so she wouldn't feel like a freak.

She'd liked Josh…but she realized that Ron loved her, but never really felt how much until now…

And it shamed her. She remembered the jokes about the sidekick, the buffoon, the lost pants. How had Ron survived? It wasn't the Kim Possible and Ron operation…it was Kim Possible and her sidekick.

Sideshow rather.

"Possible-san?" Yori said, and Kim started, realizing that it was the second time Yori had spoken.

"Yes?"

"I was just saying how lucky you were, to have someone like Ron-san…" Yori said. She smiled, "If he were not attached…maybe I would be in competition?" She giggled, not seeming to notice the look Kim gave her.

In competition…you? There was no competition, as Kim looked at Yori's toned and fit body. That was a possibility…

"Yori…" Kim asked, "wh-what are they saying about Me and Ron?"

"At the school? They say it must be true love…"

"Because of the puking?" Yori laughed.

"No—you Americans can be so squeamish…but Ron-san made common cause with his enemy, saved you from yourself, escaped from America in a plane, even against the entire American navy and air force…" She sighed, "It is…like something out of a manga." Kim shook her head, then brought it up, her eyes staring into Yori's.

"Yori."

"Yes, Kim-san?"

"That wasn't what I meant—what are they saying about us back in America?" Yori hesitated.

"I am not certain… there are…" Kim frowned.

"Yori, I know that you have to have a computer up here, and so you must get CNN or BBC online—so either s-show me where it is, or tell me." Yori looked at her, and her shoulders slumped.

"Are you ready for this, Kim-san?" She asked.

"I have to be." Kim said softly. She wondered if Yori realized that she'd just confirmed her worst fears.

"The computer is in the main hall. Come with me." Yori said, and paused, "Do you need the wheelchair?" Kim got up, banishing the trembling in her legs by force of will.

"No." Was I ever a cheerleader? Was I ever able to bounce across the field, or was it some fever dream? She wondered, feeling the strain in her legs. "Let's go."

"Ah, Stoppable-san." Sensei said, looking over at Ron as he came up with Hirotaka. Hirotaka bowed and left, leaving the two of them alone. "I do not believe you ever had the opportunity to enjoy the garden. Walk with me."

"Thanks." Ron said.

"For what?"

"For letting us stay…for all you've done."

"You have done far more for us. Possible-san has done far more for the world. Honor is as Honor does, and you are very honorable, both of you." He smiled, "and your work—when you were able to leave the side of Kim-san, has been impressive. You have the makings of a powerful warrior…Stoppable-san."

"I have to be." Ron said. Sensei's eyes narrowed, but Ron wasn't paying attention.

"Sensei…how long would it take me to become as good as Hirotaka?"

"Not long, Ron-san—it is not only your skill and native determination, but your experience with Lord Monty Fist, you have an innate connection with the warrior arts. It depends, of course, on how badly you want to achieve that goal." Ron's eyes burned like coals.

"Very."

"Very well—then you may begin now. Hirotaka?"

"Yes, Sensei?"

"You are one of my most advanced students. Ron-san is your student—bring honor to our school."

"Hai, Sensei." Hirotaka looked over at Ron and smiled.

"Are you ready for this, Ron-san?" Ron looked at the student. Ron felt that he'd improved…but Hirotaka could probably take him out with one hand tied behind his back and a bum knee. But he was finished letting Kim carry the load.

"No time like the present." Ron said. "Let's get started."

The school had a set up of several computers in the common room. Although students could and did, use their own portables, it was more common for them to come here and work. It took Yori little time to bring up the information Kim wanted, on the BBC world news net.

"And in American news, the current reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction for former teen hero Kim Possible, stands at 140,000 dollars. She is currently wanted for six counts of aggravated assault with the intent to commit great bodily harm on a peace officers. Of those officers, three remain in the hospital, and one, Officer Jenny Smith, is expected to require extensive reconstructive surgery for her elbow." The dry BBC announcer continued with a brief synopsis of her career, including interviews with some of the people she'd helped. Those were, if anything, even more mixed.

"Well, you have to understand, a kid like that, acting like that, wasn't normal to begin with—I'm not surprised she's gone round the bend." One man said, and Kim remembered that she'd saved his business from going under.

"It's terrible, how they're persecuting her." Another man, considerably richer than the first mentioned, "She has done everything—and if any of the rumors are true, this assault on her was beyond the pale. If she needs help, then I saw we give it to her—but to put her in jail? Never!" At that, the BBC announcer's voice came back.

"Although Ron Stoppable is wanted as a material witness, it is currently believed that his actions were to some extent controlled by the international criminal Shego. As such, he is not expected to be charged with kidnapping or assault." Suddenly, Kim was filled with joy. Ron could go home.

Of course—everyone always saw Ron as the sidekick and she could use that now… Ron could go back!

"Yori…this is wonderful!" Kim said. Yori blinked at that. Americans apparently had a different view of wonderful.

"How so?"

"Don't you see? Nobody t-thinks Ron was really behind this—he can go home!" As Kim continued, she explained why the people might think that Ron wouldn't have anything to do with it.

As she spoke, Yori's face started turning dark with anger. Kim was in the middle of a sentence when-

"Baka-Yaro!" She snapped at Kim. "This is how you would repay your love? He has held you, bled for you, carried you…and you would throw him aside for this?"

"But..b-b-b…" Kim didn't stop, she had to explain, "if-i-i…" She growled and a dribble of nonsense syllables ran out of her mouth before she gave up and waited a full minute. "If I do this, he can go home! He can be with his family, his school friends…everything!"

"And if you were caring for him, and he told you that you could go, that he would arrange for everyone to see you as a child, who could not, naturally! Be held responsible for her actions, what would you say?"

"It's not the same!" Kim said angrily. "Ron did this for me—I can do this for him."

"You can hurt him, that is true, Kim-san." Yori said. "Show him that everything he has done means nothing, that you have learned—nothing."

"You d-don't understand…" her stutter grew worse and Kim paused angrily to get it under control, "unless you just want to keep him here for yourself, instead of doing what is good for-eep!" Kim ducked back, but Yori's fist stopped an inch in front of her nose.

"You are lucky that you are ill, Kim-san." Yori said, biting each syllable off. "But if you desire to continue this folly, you may do it without me. I assume you can find your own way back to your quarters, neh? Kim-sama?" The last word, Kim wasn't certain of, but it didn't sound friendly. Without waiting, Yori spun and walked out of the common room, her back stiff, radiating anger.

Kim turned and walked back to her room. By the time she got there, she was quivering with exhaustion, but she wasn't going to ask for help.

On the match field, Sensei was watching Ron and Hirotaka spar. This wasn't training—it was Hirotaka seeing what Ron needed to learn. Sensei nodded in approval. Hirotaka was not going out of his way to defeat Ron—that was not the objective, especially against a student who still had healing ribs. Rather, he was showing him, what he was going to have to do over the course of their training.

"You must be more aware, Ron-san—do not watch my eyes."

"but-" Hirotaka laughed,

"Yes, I know all your American movies speak of that—and Sensei might be able to read ones' intention in the eyes during a fight—I cannot. Watch the chest. When I move, when I kick, I cannot prevent my body from letting off tell tale movements that you will, in time, learn to read." He smiled, "But beware—in the old days, when these arts were used by male warriors only, there was not the danger there is today—when you fight a female, do not become too enamored of the chest." Ron laughed, and then yelped as Hirotaka threw a kick that stopped just short of his ear.

"As I said, Ron-san, more aware. Just because we are talking doesn't mean we are not also sparring." Sensei turned away, to see Yori walking towards him. She was tense, angry, and showing it.

"Yori." Sensei said, She nodded to him.

"Sensei…"

"You are not in balance, daughter—what is the difficulty that confounds you."

"I can barely-" She looked over at Ron. "May we speak elsewhere, Sensei?" He nodded. On the way from the fields, she told him what had been said. The old teachers face became set.

"Forgive me Yori—I believe that I had made it understood that I would be the one to inform Kim-san of the situation."

"You did, Sensei… I do not excuse myself."

"You may polish the wood in the hallways tonight, before retiring, Yori."

"Hai." He paused,

"It was to be expected, Yori. One does not change attitudes overnight, or even other a month. I will speak to her…but in the future, please understand that I am not so elderly as to be unaware of what needs to be done."

Yori didn't understand, Kim thought, sitting in her room. She had meant what she'd said, and it wasn't drugs, or exhaustion talking. The purging of her system was over—humiliating weeks of puking and crapping on herself, barely able to move, being bathed, even fed by Ron.

But that wasn't the reason. The drugs were burned out of her system…and there was nothing to keep her from remembering. Remembering him, the coffin, how she had begged—begged like she'd never done before. In that coffin, she would have done anything to get out, sold out anyone, let him use her body however he pleased and she would have thanked him for it.

Then she'd taken the drugs. Kim closed her eyes, feeling the tears start up. She'd known—mom had told her from 10 on of the dangers, and that hadn't stopped her. She remembered each thought, each hateful, paranoid fear, the sound of Bonnie whimpering in terror and her sick joy at it, the feel of Shego's neck in her hands, the rain and the cry of the female cop as she'd shattered her elbow. Kim knew one thing—that police officer might heal…but never completely.

And she had done it to herself. Because she was too afraid to face her memories. Because she had been beaten. Beaten into a mewling, begging, animal that she didn't even recognize.

Ron would go away. It was better that way. He'd paid enough for her…but he could make it, maybe even with Yori. Unless she let him stay with her.

Because if he did, he would be dragged down by her weakness.

"It's best." She murmured.

"Is it?" Kim bolted upright, looking at the old man, sitting by her. She hadn't even noticed him come in.

ninja school. Right.

"Hello, Sensei… I didn't hear you."

"I understand, I should have announced myself, Kim-san." He paused, and smiled. "But please, continue your statement. What is best?"

"That I make him go home, keep Ron from wrecking his life even more." She bowed her head. "I…I can't be what he needs."

"Ah. You have been broken beyond repair?"

"Yes." She said, trembling.

"And you think that Ron made a mistake in what he has done?" She paused at that question. Then.

"...yes."

SLAP! Kim's head rocked back under the power of the old man's slap.

"That is for your pride and arrogance!"

SLAP! Her head rocked back the other way.

"And that is for your insult to Ron-san who deserves better!" Kim blinked.

"Pride?" She said, feeling her frayed hold give way. "Pride?! I, I begged him sensei! I b-begged him to rape me, or k-k-kill me," She stopped, her mouth betraying her again, unable to even speak dammit, "I begged him to let me do whatever he pleased! How is that pride!?"

"Do you think you are the only person who has fallen?" Sensei said. "Do you think that you were somehow great enough that unlike every child of man, you would never need help? That your sin of weakness is so great and unique it can never be undone, that you can never grow beyond it?"

"I…"

"And you do not have the right to tell Ron-san what to do. Unless you believe what others said, that he was a mere sidekick—a buffoon."

"No…never." Kim said in a wavery voice.

"Good—then act like it." Sensei's voice softened. "He has paid, by his own choice. You can honor that choice, honor the man who places such a worth on you…or you can waste it." Sensei rose and bowed to her.

"You have great gifts, Kim-san… do not let pride and despair rob the world…rob Ron of them." He smiled. "I came to tell you that now that the drugs have been purged, we should see what physical activities you are capable of. Four walls and roof can be refuge, but stay too long, and they are a prison. It is time to come back into the sun, Kim-san."

To be continued.