chapter 09: in which there is gunfire

"Oo klld?"

El Zorromancer took his glasses off and looked up with a slow, urbane smile. "Good morning."

Karasu wordlessly removed his mask, opened his mouth, then quickly put the mask back on. The youki which had flared up subsided gently.

"I see." To do El Zorromancer credit, he barely flinched. "Julian, add a tongue restoration to Karasu's chart."

"Yes, sir," Julian agreed, making a quick note with his pen. "Sir, you made a note about finding a metalsmith demon for this one. Shall I call him for you?"

"Yes, call him," El Zorromancer said, rising from his desk and crossing the room to Karasu. "My dear, sit if you like. This won't take long. May I take your mask?"

Karasu nodded and unhooked it. El Zorromancer winced at the swell of youki and passed the mask to Julian. "There is some kind of restraint built into this," Julian announced. "I will tell the smith." Picking up the phone, he dialled an extension and waited. "Hello, this is Julian West from El Zorromancer's office..."

"Lovely boy," El Zorromancer said as he began to work his magic on Karasu's body. "Secretary to some ambassador or other who took a bullet for his employer a few weeks back and didn't get shipped home because of some ridiculous political debate. I have a feeling that he's going to end up being the power behind my throne. Aren't you, Julian?"

Julian smiled without even pausing in his telephone conversation.

"Really invaluable," El Zorromancer concluded. "This will sting a bit. And...there you are."

Karasu's hair melted into black, blonde, then back to black. "An excellent job," he said slowly, standing and looking at his hands. "Really an excellent job."

"I try," El Zorromancer said modestly. "Julian, do I dare ask what you've done with the smith?"

"One moment, sir," said Julian, touching a button on the underside of his desk. "Enter," he ordered as a door slid open in the back.

A middle-aged man who reeked of flimsy respectability lumbered in. He would have looked greasy but harmless if it weren't for the fact that instead of hands he had palmfuls of needle-thin strands of metal waving from each wrist. "My, my," he said. "I could feel that out in the hall." He delicately took the mask from Julian and examined it, the metal tendrils soaking into the mask and straightening out the metal. "You just lose it when this thing is off, don't you?"

"Normally," Karasu said warily. "As for now...perhaps I have been decommissioned for long enough that I am weakened?"

"Don't worry about that," El Zorromancer soothed. "I am keeping you from turning this whole office into a smoking crater."

"You can do that?" Karasu asked sharply.

"I can," El Zorromancer said, "but I choose not to on most occasions. This is an exception; you are a hazard to not only myself but everyone in this building. Once you are off these grounds, you may do just as you please. I restrain you only as your mask did."

Karasu looked at him intently for another moment, then relaxed. "Very well."

"Here, hold still," said the smith, reaching out to affix the mask to Karasu's face. "There you are. It likes you."

"Thank you," said Karasu, feeling the mask with gentle fingers. "Your people do excellent jobs."

"I can choose from the best," El Zorromancer said carelessly, dismissing the smith with a wave. "My dear, what on earth happened to your tongue? Does this have anything to do with your pretty redhead?"

"He bit it out," Karasu reminisced. "I don't think he likes me very much."

"That seems doubtful," El Zorromancer agreed. "But bring him here, if you'd like when you're done. Death never has to be an end to something."

"I will consider it," Karasu said gravely. "I would...like to do such a thing."

"Mm," agreed El Zorromancer absently. "When you are ready, call and schedule an appointment."

Julian discreetly appeared at Karasu's side, proffering a business card. "Demon world, sir, and human world numbers," he indicated with a manicured fingernail. "We never close, but we do move back and forth."

"And when do you sleep?" Karasu asked, amused. "You know, your hair is in excellent condition," he added, fingering the secretary's blonde ponytail. "No split ends, no sign of being bleached. As an ambassador's secretary, you're not from around here?"

Julian seemed to not mind having his hair played with in the slightest. "No, sir, I'm not. But I think this is home for me now."

Karasu removed the tie from the secretary's hair and handed it to him, looking him over critically. "You look well either way, but I think this style ruffles all your professional instincts."

Julian looked flattered. "Thank you, sir."

Karasu left without another word, leaving a slightly bewildered Julian to gather his hair back up again. "That," said El Zorromancer, thumping his booted feet onto his desk, "is quite an extraordinary demon. I think he's taken a bit of a fancy to you, Julian. But don't worry," he added when Julian flushed discreetly. "I think I know the demon he's looking for, and that one will give him enough of a fight for now."

"It seems, sir," Julian said gently, "that he was merely relieved to be back in one piece. In such situations, people are known to celebrate."

El Zorromancer looked on calmly as Julian tried to get his hair back under control. "Have a comb," he finally offered kindly.

"Thank you, sir."

Karasu, oblivious of Julian's plight, walked back through the tastefully furnished waiting room and out the door. It occurred to him that he'd seen the tall boy with the strangely coiffed orange hair before, but he just couldn't figure out where. He dismissed it from his mind three steps from the door.

"That was Karasu," Kuwabara said, jerking a thumb at the receding figure. "Do you think he recognized us?"

"He doesn't know me," Yukina reassured him. "And if he did recognize you, I don't think he cared."

"He should care," Kuwabara indignantly proclaimed.

Weed slumped back farther in his chair. "Do you really want him to care? I wouldn't want him to care. He doesn't sound like he's right in the head."

"How long do you think we have to wait?" Kuwabara changed the subject.

Yukina shrugged gracefully. "I wouldn't know. Are you feeling cool enough?" she asked Weed. "I know you could have gone into their refrigerated room, but then we have no excuse to be here."

"We could think up some," Kuwabara suggested.

Weed grinned. "Yeah, but the ones you ran by me didn't seem like they'd go over too well."

"I reluctantly agree," Yukina sighed. "This place must have only opened a few days ago, but he seems to have really excellent business sense. I shouldn't mind if he opened a sort of undead company, but...well, we'll not discuss it here."

"A good idea," Weed agreed. "God, I'm jittery. I need caffeine."

"How many drugs are you addicted to?" Kuwabara asked, shocked. Weed started obediently tallying on his fingers. When he got to the other hand, Kuwabara waved for him to stop. "I didn't mean 'casual use', I meant 'well and truly addicted'."

"Oh, literally," Weed realized. "I like my cigarettes and I need my coffee. And my weed use is notorious, but I usually stop when I'm holding down a job or in the process of applying. I smoke regular cigarettes more then. The rest of the stuff is from parties."

"If you hadn't died, you'd be dying anyway," Kuwabara said in astonishment. "You probably bled chemicals."

"Nope," said Weed, testing the old cut on his forehead. "Blood."

The smart young woman who had taken Weed's name tripped over to them and murmured, "El Zorromancer will see you. Please, come this way."

"We'll wait," Kuwabara agreed before they could be asked.

The woman's eyes widened. "Oh, no. El Zorromancer asked for you as well. You intrigue him, sir and miss. He will be happy to answer any questions that you might have for him." It was only when she turned to lead them down the nearest corridor that they saw her tail.

"Yes, she's a demon," Yukina answered the two boys' frantically eyeballed question. "Her kind can shape-shift, but the tail remains. My compliments to your tailor," she added to the demon woman.

"We have the best here," was the imperturbable reply. She knocked twice on the door and said to the man opening it, "The young man here is a walk-in. El Zorromancer requested to see his companions as well."

The man nodded, which sent the demon woman on her way, tail waving gently. "Come in, please." He deftly ushered them in and retreated to his desk, picking up a ledger en route.

"Hello," said the slender, deeply tanned man at the desk. He was shirtless, with only a velvet ribbon around his neck and lengths of blue-black hair pooling on his shoulders. "I am El Zorromancer, and that frightfully capable young man over there with the ponytail is my indispensable secretary Julian West. You, my dear, will be seeing us again at least once, so it would be best that you knew us by name." It was obvious that he was talking to Weed alone. "Come, tell me how you died."

"I was in the fifteen-car pileup two days ago," Weed explained nervously. "Internal hemorrhaging, I think."

"So your organs will need some help," El Zorromancer concluded. "It will be done. I can clean up those bruises and scrapes for you as well. Such small things will heal, but larger things will require a return to see me."

Weed nodded. "I see."

Julian thumbed over to another page and wrote a small note, then nodded at El Zorromancer, who picked up his cue. "You won't have a long wait. You will know when to come back and where to go. Do not be worried if our office is in another place, as we are still getting into the swing of things."

This seemed to satisfy Weed. "All right," he said amicably.

El Zorromancer smiled slowly. It was a truly lovely smile. "You're the young man who allowed me to talk to that ferry girl," he said, cocking his head to one side. "I must thank you for that, and apologise for the confusion."

Weed returned the smile faintly. "No trouble, really."

"And now for you two," El Zorromancer added, folding his hands together and looking inquisitively at Kuwabara and Yukina. "An ice maiden and one of Koenma's fighters, both of you alive, here to see me? Curiosity? Business? Something of both?"

"Something of both," Kuwabara explained. "Koenma isn't very happy with you right now."

"No," said El Zorromancer. "I rather doubted he would be, but it was worth a shot. Tell him for me, Koenma's fighter, that he should look to the border in order to see what tends to happen when politeness fails for me."

Yukina's eyes narrowed. "What's going on at the border?"

"They're not very happy with me, either, but I utterly need to carry out my plans," El Zorromancer explained gently. "You may want to tell them that.

"Then we will relay your messages," Yukina agreed, inclining her head. "It has been a pleasure to meet you."

"My regards to your brother," El Zorromancer added carelessly. "I think you will be seeing him."

Julian inadvertently saved Yukina from what could have been a very uncomfortable moment by moving quietly to the door and opening it. "Thank you for coming, sirs and miss," he said.

Yukina watched the door close, waited two more seconds, then said, "We've got to find out what's happening on the border."

"You couldn't possibly have a brother, could you?" Kuwabara asked. "I thought ice maidens were all...women."

"We are," said Yukina serenely. "Do you think we should go to the border, or should we go back to Koenma's first? Or ought we to wait with you?" she added, looking at Weed anxiously.

"Find out your answers and then come back," Weed said. "I have about a day or so. Maybe a little less."

"How do you know?" Kuwabara asked. "He didn't give you a time."

Weed looked blank. "I suppose I know these things," he finally said. "I don't know how."

"Then we'd better hurry," Yukina said, sweeping back to a new topic. "Will you be back where we found you?"

"Yes," Weed answered. "I'll wait for you."

"The border first, then?" Yukina wondered. When Kuwabara nodded, they watched Weed amble away down the street with a wave, then turned and hurried in the other direction. She didn't notice Kuwabara's running commentary on his speed for once, as she was frantically racking her brain. How could he know? How could he know when I don't even know? I mean, I know, but it's never been something official...How could he possibly know? And how could I possibly ask if it's gotten out if I don't even know who knows? And, worse, how can I convince Kuwabara that I've got to talk to Hiei by myself? At least if there are problems on the border, he should be there...

Unfortunately for Yukina, this was nowhere near the case, due to Yusuke's machinations. Poor girl.

Around mid-morning, Botan landed shakily, dismounted, and walked up to the young woman who was inexpertly mortaring bits of concrete back onto a building. "Hi. I tracked two of my friends here," she said plainly. She had made passes over the city for hours in the night before she finally realized that Kurama and Hiei were both powerful enough that they could be sensed at a distance.

"Dark, gothic looking one and striking redhead? They're here," said the woman, waving her hammer at the building. "Hey, did you just drop out of the air on an oar?"

Botan rubbed her eyes and ignored the second question. "How did you guess it was them?"

"The old man who owns this place pegged them as not human," the woman said. "He tries to shoot all the zombies who come near, and they didn't like being shot at. You just flew down from the sky on an oar, so I figured that maybe all the weirdness was in some way related. Listen, you did just fly over here, didn't you? I mean, I'm not hallucinating, am I?"

"Your back was turned," Botan said, confused.

The woman shoved her glasses up her nose, swinging the hammer. "You were reflected in my glasses. It's a good trick; I can see when the old man is about to deck me from behind."

Botan was forced to agree. "Hey, I've been on the road all night, so I need to get this little interview with my friends over with. Can you get them for me?"

"Yes, I can," the woman agreed, pushing the hammer into her belt. "Would you like me to pitch cement pieces at their window or should I be old-fashioned about it and call?"

"Try calling," Botan said. "I have some bad news for them."

The woman nodded. "Throwing rocks would definitely be the wrong approach. I understand perfectly. Come this way, miss."

There was the ratchet of a shotgun as they headed for the door. "Eeep," said Botan, putting her hands up.

"Easy, old man," said the woman, not bothering to turn around. "She's with the two from last night."

"She reeks of death," said the man. "If she isn't dead herself, she associates with it."

The woman fished in a pocket and withdrew a handful of bills. "Oh, gosh, I guess you're right. By the way, the cute redhead told me to give you this."

"I didn't see that," Botan murmured to the woman, putting her hands down.

"Of course not, miss," the woman murmured back. "Come right this way, miss."

"At least you're behaving," the older man grumbled, palming the money from the woman. "And Junior! Get the boy to come out here and work on the wall!"

"He will go on like that," Junior told Botan. "I'm sorry about the near-shooting thing. He's paranoid. Rohan! Take this and go look busy outside!" she added, passing her hammer to a tall boy with a crew cut. "Go slowly or you'll be shot."

"I don't get paid enough for this," Rohan complained.

"You don't get paid at all!" Junior yelled after his retreating back. "Just like me! I'm sorry about that. Come back behind the desk, here, and help me look them up in the book. You'll know their names better than I will."

"Do you work here regularly?" Botan asked.

"It shows," Junior lamented. "No. Rohan offered to wash dishes for a place to stay, but the old man has better things for a strapping young lad for him to do. Like, say, make beds. I was in the process of applying for a job. I mostly tend bar in sleazy joints, so this is a step up for me. The old man's given me a job, no questions asked, because his staff ran like hell when the zombies came. The only problem is that my paycheck is two weeks away and some undead freak stole all my stuff. While I wait for the insurance to come in, I crash in one of the wrecked front rooms. Ah!" she concluded, her fingers having been busily combing through the desk's middle drawer. "We've got a lot of patrons, but they're all terrified of coming out of their rooms. They're mostly like Rohan and myself, but they have money. And they're all alive, or the old man gives them two to the chest. It's just like the pictures. Here we are. These are the guests registered last night – oh shit. You didn't see those," Junior assured Botan, sliding the handful of coins neatly into the middle drawer.

"With their list of charges, I really shouldn't be worried about bribery," Botan said without thinking, then winced. "Oh, blast. You didn't hear that."

"You spoke, miss?" Junior asked anxiously. "Anyway, their entry is blank but I ticked off the room so that I wouldn't allot it to anyone else."

"Oo," said Botan speculatively. "I think another friend of mine may be winning money."

"I really couldn't comment, miss," said Junior implacably. When Botan stared, Junior grinned abashedly. "Sorry. I read a lot of English mysteries from the Great War era. They help me with guests, though. But really, I couldn't comment."

Botan flicked a fingernail against the room's extension. "Do I just dial that?"

"Here, I'll do it," Junior volunteered, picking up the phone. As she put the receiver to her ear, there were two shotgun blasts from outside. "Shit," Junior swore, handing the phone to Botan. "Rohan! Rohan, what's going on out there?"

Rohan tore in through part of the wall and skidded to a halt behind the desk. "He's reloading!"

"Rohan, what is he shooting at?" Junior demanded.

"There's this guy," Rohan panted. "He just kind of walked up, and the man took one look and fired. The guy just sort of jumped up and over while the old man was reloading. He wasn't even scratched! He saw me while he was in the air, and that's when I ran. They were the scariest damn eyes I've ever seen. And he thought the whole thing was funny! He was laughing from behind that weird mask thing. Laughing!"

Before either Junior or Botan could react, the whole building rocked with an explosion. "Oh God," said Junior. "We're being bombed! It's just like on television!"

"Don't go out there!" Botan snapped. Neither Junior nor Rohan listened, but both ran for the front hole in the building. Botan pressed her lips together in indecision, then tore after the two staff members. "Come back!"

"Oh my God," Junior breathed, reeling back from the hole. "Oh my God, he's dead."

Botan elbowed the pair of them aside to look at the carnage. The man with the shotgun looked like he had stepped on a land mine. "Get back inside," she said quietly through the hand she had clapped over her mouth. "Here's what you have to do. You need to go through the hotel and get everyone out. They'll have heard the explosion, so they'll probably come with you if you tell them the place is ready to blow. Take the cash, get the guests out, and then run like hell. You understand? Go! And try to avoid having anyone call the police!"

"The police didn't come when zombies destroyed the front of our hotel, they won't come now," Rohan told her as he emptied the cash drawer.

Botan made one final decision. "The message I have for my friends is a moot point now. If I go to give it to them, I could put both them and myself in danger. But we need to get people off their floor first."

"Third," Junior said. "Rohan, call second. We'll hit third."

"First floor's coming out to see what's going on," Rohan reported. "Get a move on, you two."

Botan and Junior fled.

Upstairs, Kurama finally tore himself away from the window that overlooked the front of the hotel. "I want you to leave right now," he said to Hiei.

"Didn't we already have a conversation about how you really wouldn't like this conversation?" Hiei asked, praying he hadn't sounded as idiotic as the words had seemed to him.

Kurama laughed hollowly. "He knows you're here. He couldn't miss you. Being dead must have made him impatient."

"Then make him angrier," Hiei reasoned. "Explosives won't work on me so very well, and I don't think he'll like that."

Kurama resisted the temptation to hit the glass, instead settling for turning and putting both palms on it. "He's mine! Don't you dare try and kill him! Do you value me so little, that you would do that to me? Do you understand? I wanted to buy time, not have Yusuke or you kill him for me!"

If Hiei said anything, Kurama didn't hear it, because Karasu was standing easily on the ledge outside the window, hands pressed on the glass as well. "Hello."

Kurama moved away from the glass with a measured step, grabbed the back of Hiei's shirt, and firmly shoved him out into the hallway. "Make him angry," Kurama breathed before he let go of Hiei, then stepped back into the room and slammed the door.

"Fuck," said Hiei blackly.

"This would be a bad time to tell you that Koenma-sama asked me to tell all of you to not attack Karasu...or engage him at all...or do anything but run like hell from him, unless you're in an area devoid of humans?" Botan volunteered timidly from behind him.

Hiei whirled. "Yes," he said evenly. "Yes, this is a very bad time to tell me such things."

Botan licked her lips. "I'm emptying the hotel of people."

"Ah," Hiei realized. "Legal loopholes to order, courtesy of the spirit world."

"It's what we do," Botan replied. "So what are you going to do?"

Back in the room, Karasu had delicately sliced through the glass with razor-sharp fingernails and had thus let himself in by the time Kurama turned back around. "Do I make you feel that ashamed?" he asked, amused. "I feel so...flattered. You know, your hair is in better condition now. Do you find you have more time to spend on it in peacetime?"

Kurama gazed at the floor as fingers carefully picked out and examined the ends of his hair. "Such a thing is possible. Nnk!" he added as pain flared on one hand and wrist with a bang.

"I wouldn't move your hands or your feet," Karasu warned belatedly. "You might lose them."

"I've killed people with similar restrictions placed on me before," Kurama told him, eyes flicking to the green globes hovering around his limbs. "You should know that."

"I saw," Karasu agreed. "But I am curious...what will you do now? I cannot be killed by conventional means, but I can kill just as I always have. And tell me...what do you brew to take my mark off of your neck? The line is still there, but it doesn't bleed. You are skilled; most can only barely get my cuts to stop bleeding. You will only be scarred," he mused, feeling where the cut from their last meeting had been.

Kurama ignored the question. "Do you want to kill me now, then?"

"It's possible," Karasu mused. "You're being frightfully compliant...I find this suspicious."

"You should," Kurama agreed.

"You are waiting for something," Karasu continued. "But I have learned that you hide moves within moves, and will not trust that this is all. However, to bide my time, I shall keep myself busy." He started to carefully scratch small, careful lines on Kurama's neck in what felt like a random pattern.

"Amusing yourself?" Kurama asked, uncurling his fingers. He tried to bite back the gasp of pain when a bomb exploded against the skin and failed. Three more went off as he tried to keep from moving without much success.

Karasu smiled against his hair. "Very much so."

Kurama felt the blood dripping from his fingers to splash on the floor, but his attention was almost entirely directed to the smoke starting to curl up from under the door. One second later, the fire alarm went off in its full light-flashing, high-pitched beeping, sprinkler-filled glory.

Karasu jumped, digging a fingernail heavily into Kurama's throat. Kurama's eyes flickered as he sent a mental command to one of the plants wound into his hair. "An alarm," Karasu continued. "That's a new ulk."

Karasu's head fell heavily to the floor and rolled. "I told you that I've killed people without using my hands or my feet," Kurama spat, the free end of his rose whip curling around his neck delicately. "And I liked you better without a tongue."

"I should have been watching for that," Karasu agreed as Kurama flung himself through the bombs and staggered to the other side of the room, wrists and ankles bleeding profusely in addition to the blood trickling from his neck. "But now your hands and feet are quite useless anyway, and if you extend that whip from your hair again, I will blow it apart."

Kurama turned his wrists over gingerly and noted with relief that no major arteries or veins had been hit yet. "You have said I could not do things before, and it was that belief which killed you."

"My head has been severed from my shoulders," Karasu said pleasantly as his body stooped and picked his head up by the hair. "I am reminded again that you are treacherous to fight. But I too can be treacherous."

Kurama eyed the bomb that was forming in Karasu's hand. "Are you trying to provoke me into changing shape?"

"Can you even do that on your own, without your drugs?" Karasu retorted. His head was now being carefully balanced on his neck. "When I died, you said that Minamino Shuuichi was not yet up to the task of killing me. This will tell me if he is now," he declared, and threw the bomb.

Karasu stayed pressed against the door until the smoke cleared, then went to the now-broken window for a look around. When he was satisfied, he decided to walk down the long way. Opening the door, however, brought him straight into an inferno. "You don't mind fire, do you?" Hiei asked lazily from where he was leaning against the wall. "I don't."

Karasu looked up and down the hall, using his hands to turn his head. At the rate the fire was growing, the ceiling was due to cave in at any moment. The sprinklers were useless. "You're not immune to injuries from falling objects."

"But I don't mind them like most do," Hiei repeated. "Were you going somewhere?"

Karasu turned away, nearly dropping his head in the process. "You bore me," he announced, heading for the stairs. "There is no finesse in you."

Hiei considered the pain that Kurama might inflict on him for what he was about to say and discounted it in favour of the pleasure of scoring one over Karasu. "And yet, out of the two of us, I'm the one enjoying his...company." It was true, in a literal sort of way. How lucky for Hiei that there were so many gentle euphemisms available which could have other, more harmless meanings.

Karasu stopped, looked back deliberately, and said mildly, "And if I think you are lying?"

"Weren't you leaving?" Hiei asked. "General indecision doesn't translate into finesse, you know." He could feel Karasu collecting flammable materials from the air without even looking up. Hiei wasn't worried, since there were black flames creeping up from his right hand.

"This," said Karasu, looking at his hands where a barely-contained explosion was growing, "will kill you."

"Somehow your criticism regarding my finesse or lack thereof no longer moves me," Hiei informed him, feeling a second awareness come to life around his right arm. "I don't think that you paid attention to me at all in the Dark Tournament, but I don't mind. Somehow I just don't feel the need to tell you what I'm about to do." This was true, because Hiei didn't plan on mentioning that he wasn't aiming to kill. He was still having trouble processing this within his own mind.

"Stay dead," Karasu hissed and released the explosion. "What?" he added when black fire screamed back towards the bomb. "But you hadn't been able to control – "

A heartbeat later, there was a hotel no longer, but instead a lot of rubble spread out over the foundation and all the surrounding streets.

"Shitfuck," breathed Junior from where she, Rohan, Botan, and the guests huddled at the back of the parking lot. "I hope our insurance covers acts of zombie."

Dude. The hits for this are rivalling IoV's. Both of them recently jumped over 1k. I'm proud, except for the fact that the hits are sinking through the floor for this one. I need to reread my own stuff more. PIMP ME. (/shameless)

KyoHana: Never stop. Except when my bio teacher tells me to stop making my lab reports randomly amusing.

Aithril the Elf-Maiden: You may have to wait for a while to get more, though. Sorry. Real life happens to them, unfortunately.

shadow priestess: Yay! A convert!

Capella Alpha Aurigae: (K/H flees) I'm kidding. But it's really shy.

kikira-chan: 'In Which' is the best phrase. Ever.

Kooriya Yui: Half the humour comes from a total inability to take myself seriously. This is my eighties crack.

Bluespark: They were a bit busier then. They have downtime now. And you caught the reference! Cookies for you!

Oya: ...Apparently I'm starving everyone, because people seem sated with five seconds of snog. Hmm.

Nyte Kit: But Yusuke doesn't know it. Ah, loopholes...

A lilmatchgirl: Cities usually do when zombies come to town.

I'm submitting college apps.

Please love me when they all reject me out of hand.