The sparring match ended none-too-soon for Obi-Wan, and he was grateful to escape from his Master's watchful eyes. \I can't believe I didn't sense he was there… it's a wonder he didn't yell at me for trying something so difficult\

Obi-Wan had been working to improve his katas by using one of the data disks from the archives. It was nothing like having a real teacher to guide him and teach him, but with Master Qui-Gon so busy all of the time, there was no other way for him to learn. He hadn't intended to go so far ahead in the training, but with all of his time focused on it, he had soon found himself working well above the norm for his age-level.

\Just one more example of the perfect Padawan\ he snorted, quickly toweling off after his brief shower. Dressing quickly and grabbing his bag, he left the Padawan locker room. Heading for the quarters he shared with his Master to drop off his gear and grab his Astro-physics notes, Obi-Wan schooled his features into a serene mask.

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I wanted to help my friend. I knew I had to be there for her. But… all I wanted to do was go back to my room, crawl under the covers and pretend the world just didn't exist.

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Leaving his apprentice to shower in the Padawan locker room, Qui-Gon made his way up to the Master's level. Stepping out of the key-coded lift, he was surprised to see Master Windu and Master Gallia waiting for him.

"Mace, Adi," he acknowledged, grabbing a towel from off the stack by the lounge door and wiping the sweat from his brow. "What can I do for you?"

"Qui-Gon, we need to talk," Mace answered, as he motioned for the other two Masters to take a seat. The disgruntled look Qui-Gon shot him informed him of the other Master's wish to shower first, but the issue they needed to discuss was too important to wait any longer.

"The Council has become concerned as of late," Adi began, leaning forward slightly on the padded bench outside the locker rooms to lay her hand on Master Jinn's knee. "We have heard some… comments… about Obi-Wan that have led to some disturbing questions."

Heaving a sigh, Qui-Gon leaned back against the wall, allowing his hand to drop back from where he had been toweling off his forehead. "I know," he stated simply, clenching his jaw in frustration before continuing. "I know that there is something wrong, but I just don't know what to do. Obi won't talk to me, and he won't tell me what is going on."

"Several of his teachers have come to us," Master Windu added. "At first the Council was unsure as to what the problem was, since Obi-Wan has always done so well academically."

"And in everything else," Qui-Gon muttered, sighing yet again.

"And that is the problem," Master Gallia added. "Obi-Wan is pushing himself too hard, working himself into the ground, yet deriving no pleasure from it." Gently squeezing his knee, she continued. "The Council is not blaming you, Qui-Gon. We know that you have done everything you can for Obi-Wan, and that if there was anyway for you to help him in this, you would do it. But the situation has become serious and something must be done about it."

Laying his hand gently over Adi's, Qui-Gon raised his saddened blue gaze to meet her own. "Yes, something must be done," he concurred, "but the question is: what should we do?"

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I stood outside your door, and I tried to put on that mask… that character… that actor… that style… that something. I'm not sure what it is; it's just this wall that I put between you and me. I stand concealed behind it, watching and hiding, while some other persona takes control. I wish I were more like him… that other boy who comes in and takes over for me. Even if his smile is a little too brittle, and his eyes a bit too glazed, at least he seems happy.

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Even before the door chime rang, Bant knew that Obi-Wan was waiting out in the hall. He had stood out there for a few minutes, radiating that odd, unreadable emotion, before finally ringing the chime. Bant had waited silently on the other side of the door to see if he would actually come in, or if he would try to leave. If he tried to run again, she swore to herself she would chase him through the Temple until he agreed to talk to her.

When the bell finally rang, the Mon Calamarian released the breath she hadn't even realized she had been holding before keying open the door. "Obi, I'm so glad you could make it!" she exclaimed, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him into the room before he could turn and flee. And judging from the look on his face as he saw the others waiting in the room, he would have fled had she not captured his arm.

"B-bant?" Obi-Wan stuttered. "I thought I was only helping you with your Astro-physics."

"What, you can't help us too?" Garen called out from where he sat on the sofa. "Why should Bant be the only one who gets your help?" he teased.

"No, no, that's not what I meant," Obi-Wan backpedaled, trying to come up with a logical excuse for leaving.

"Oh come on, Obi, we know ya only help Bant 'cause she's your supplier," Siri giggled, turning around in her armchair to face the new arrival.

"My supplier?" the young Padawan asked, trying to surreptitiously free his arm from Bant's vice-like grip.

"Yup, your supplier," Bant answered, refusing to relinquish her hold. "Everyone knows that I always find you the best chocolate," she explained, her silver eyes twinkling. "And speaking of chocolate, you should see the great cake that N'erak made."

"As long as Reeft doesn't find it and eat it before you can have some," N'erak called out from the small kitchenette where he was guarding his "masterpiece."

And with a final giggle, and a more persistent tug, Bant yanked Obi-Wan fully into the quarters she shared with her Master, the door swishing shut behind him with a loud hiss.

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I'm in hell.