Author's Note: The weather's been so nice. Enjoying the sun makes it hard to sit down and write...

Still! The threat of sunburn proved an excellent motivator. Here's chapter four.

I hope you enjoy!


"Kill me."

Ikko finished his answer, tracing down to the next question.

"No, please – actually kill me."

He scribbled his next answer and turned the page. Kia let her head knock gently against her desk.

"Pleeeeeease-"

"Is there a problem, Tayama?"

"N-no, Miss Nekonome. Sorry."

Miss Nekonome smiled, sweet. "A pop quiz is not a team effort."

"Yes, ma'am…" Kia picked herself up, stabbing at her paper. Its tapping gave Ikko a rhythm to focus on, something to speed along the last few questions. Only when Kia's whingeing renewed did it begin to grate, and by then Nekonome signalled the end of the test.

"I can't believe you hung me out like that!" Kia accused, pouting. She'd covered splotched makeup with incredible ease – had Ikko not known that she'd been crying, he would have thought allergies or some other minor irritation.

"I didn't," he argued, stuffing his notebook into his bag, "Like she said – it's a pop quiz."

"On the first day back! What gives?"

"She probably wants to see how we've been studying over the break."

Kia blew a raspberry. "Don't take her side! I thought you were cool!"

Ikko straightened all of a sudden, adjusting his tie. "You, uh- you did?"

"Transfers are cool, aren't they? That's why they transfer."

He wondered what she'd been reading to come to that conclusion. Many things he certainly was; cool fell into none of the ball parks even remotely related to his person. "I don't want trouble on my first day. Bad enough I had to see the headmaster last night."

"You did!?" Whoops. "What for? What did you do?"

"W-well, uh- some paperwork got lost. Normal stuff."

"Oh." Kia deflated, her chance at juicy gossip swept from underneath her. "What's he like?"

"He's…" Ikko thought back to Mikogami. Monk's habit – bizarre sense of humour. "Pretty normal, I guess. Like any headmaster."

"Seriously?" She arched a brow. "How do you make everything sound so dull?"

"Hey!"

"What do you have next?" Kia slung her bag over her shoulder and crushed closer to Ikko, peering at the timetable he'd fished from his blazer.

"G… G.T. Guise Training, right?" His stomach churned. How would he slip past this one? Surely appearing as a human proved enough; and it broke policy to force students to reveal their true forms. Maybe there'd be an exception?

"Oh! So soon?" Kia hummed. "They probably want to get it over and done with. You hide like a pro, so there's nothing to fear."

"You think?"

"I know! It's a rare monster who can manipulate their scent like that. I noticed you toned it down a bit." She sniffed. Ikko leaned back.

"I did, yeah…"

"I've got Science." Kia moaned, flattening out her timetable. "It's too early to think, and it's with Masumi."

She lapsed into an uncommon silence. "Uh- you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm bracing myself." She blew her cheeks out. "He's not gonna like it."

"How long were you two…?"

"Last year. Most of it – I think we met in the first month?" Kia stashed the paper and placed her hands on her hips. "Christmas was hard. He got needy, and it's only worse now that we're back."

"Needy?" Ikko asked. Kia smiled, saddened, and shook her head.

"It's alright. I'll deal with it. Hey!" A fresh spark caught her attention. "We should hit the Street after class!"

"The Street?"

"Yeah – Preternatural Street. We can grab a coffee and I can show you around. What do you think?"

"Uh…" Ikko fidgeted.

"Say yes." Kia answered for him. "Come oooon. It's the least I can do."

"Alright. Sure." He nodded. Kia clapped her hands together.

"Great! Good luck in G.T." She practically skipped off, all sullen airs shrugged off. How did she do that?

Ikko found his map of the Academy and set off. The familiar bustle of students between class sang its familiar chorus. He navigated couples and groups stopped in the halls, panicking first-years dashing from one side of the building to the next, third-years strolling casually by. No sign of Mizore or Ruby, he mused, but soon concluded that it was the point of their protection to not be obvious about it. A transfer escorted by staff might look normal, but give it a few weeks and the rumour mill would surely turn.

He recalled Masumi's glower. One potential rumour was quite enough, he thought, and he kept his head down for the rest of the trip.

Guise Training took place in a corner of Yokai, away from the main classrooms. Ikko hovered in front of the tall door, unmarked save a dented, dog-eared sign. He checked his phone; two minutes to spare. He tried the handle, steel rattling but not giving. Locked? He tried again, with a little more force.

He'd been the only student on the corridor, and that held true even as he kept watch for teachers. One minute. Two… he tried the door. It clicked as he did so, causing him to open the door with a little more force than intended. "Sorry!"

"It's alright," answered the teacher, poking her head around the frame. He saw the shock of blue hair first.

"Mizore?" Her brow arched. "I-I mean, Miss Shirayuki! What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" She swung the door wide, inviting him in. Unlike the classrooms of the academy proper, the G.T. rooms kept a more comfortable design. Two couches, two chairs, and a small desk to write on.

"You're my G.T. tutor?"

"Sort of." She locked the door behind him. "You obviously don't need help with that. The headmaster and I agreed that you could use a space to settle and recover for the first few weeks. It won't be forever, but for now think of it as a break from the culture shock."

"It's not that bad," he tried to sound assuring, confident even. Mizore only laughed.

"Give it time. You've only met one monster properly. Besides," she went back to her chair and the small mountain of paperwork, "Why would you complain about a free period?"

He shrugged his bag off and perched on one of the couches. "Free?"

"Yes."

"Completely?"

"Within reason," said she, looking up, "Unless you've got homework you want to do?"

"I've only had one lesson."

"How was it?"

"Fine. Maths. Miss… Nekonome? With the weird hair." He set his hands either side of his head, resembling the teacher's styled cat-ears.

"You mean her ears?"

"Her-" Ikko choked on his surprise. "Her ears?"

"Yeah. If anyone needs Guise Training, it's her."

He thought back. Her hair did have a habit of flicking whenever someone talked – and she'd even picked up on Kia's whispered pleas for a swift death. "Are Guises really so hard?"

"They can be. Depends on the monster."

"Huh?"

"It's like…" Mizore set her pen down, pinching her brow in thought. "Like squeezing into trousers that are too small. The more monstrous your true form, the harder it can be to maintain a Guise."

The briefest image of a monster like Kia squeezing into such a tiny body as one might a pair of skinny jeans flashed into Ikko's head. Mizore continued. "Emotions affect it, too. When they run high or erratic, that causes its own problems. You saw that."

"Right," Ikko lapsed into brief thought. Kia's emotions ran on a permanent high, from what he'd seen of the living embodiment of a rollercoaster. Had that been an act? Did only specific emotions trigger such a change?

He traced back the events leading up to her transformation, recalling how close she'd pressed to him. He crossed one leg over the other. "What's your true form like?"

She sighed. "Ikko…"

"What?"

"You can't just ask that. You might as well ask to see me naked."

His cheeks flushed. "Oh."

"It's different when it breaks loose. Kia struggled to control herself. Releasing your true form, willingly? Can you imagine what that's like?"

He'd crossed a line. Ikko laced his hands together, staring into his lap. "I guess. Sorry."

Watching him withdraw, Mizore backpedalled. She hopped from her chair and took a careful seat next to him. "No – it's alright. Better to ask me than Kia. This is all stuff you have to learn."

Ikko looked up to her. She tried a smile and reached into her pocket to offer an olive branch; or, more accurately, a lollipop. "Ask whatever you like. If it helps you fit in and avoids slip ups, I'll do what I can. Like… human guise training."

"Pretending to be a monster?"

"Precisely."

Ikko warily plucked the lollipop from her outstretched fingers. He sucked thoughtfully. "I thought this was supposed to be a free period?"

"What else are you going to do with it?"

He didn't want to admit that he had a few stages left on his mobile game. "Good point."

"So- ask away."

Silence. Ikko fished for a question, but they all fled from him. Like being asked about his favourite book, every title he'd ever even thought of opening made themselves scarce. "Uh…"

Mizore sat patiently. He looked properly across to her, forgetting furtiveness. She's chosen a white shirt, simple trousers, and pushed her hair back behind her ears so that it wouldn't fall into view as she leaned over her work. At least he thought that might have been her idea; despite the effort it sprung free, cascading erratically over her shoulders. He took a breath, smelled the mint on his breath – or was it hers? Sweet. A tiny bit sharp. Cold. His cheeks flushed again, and he leaned forward. Fingers raked through his hair. "Oh! What's the deal with scents?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Like – is it just humans that smell different? How does it work?"

Mizore stared at the far wall, cheek coming to ponderous rest on a pale palm. "It's… an instinct? I guess? You can normally tell who's what by smell. Monster, human – not specifics like species, unless you know them well enough. I can pick my own kind out of a crowd. Maybe a couple of others… Oh, but humans are easy. Any monster can pick out the scent of a human."

"Is it like pheromones?"

"Yeah, sorta."

"What other monsters could you detect?" An excitement plucked his tone up. The sincerity of his curiosity proved infectious.

"Vampires, easy. Spent a lot of time with vampires at Yokai."

"Really?"

She laughed, quiet. "It's not that big a deal. They're not common, but you see them around."

"Vampires…" Ikko murmured, starstruck. "What are they like?"

"Huh?"

"Do they actually, y'know…"

"Oh, yeah. They have to." Mizore's smile splintered, the memories of her student years rushing back. She closed off as quickly as she'd allowed herself to become swept up. "There's more than just vampires, though. 'Specially here – you'll find all kinds at Yokai."

"All without seeing their true form." Ikko noted. Either he hadn't noticed the shift in her paled skin, or he was more sensitive than Mizore gave him credit for. "Hey, uh- Miss Shirayuki? Mizore?"

"What?"

"What, uh… I mean, if it's alright to ask… what kind of monster are you?"

The former, then. Mizore huffed, still resting on her hand. "That's an improvement over asking for my true form, but you should still watch what you ask for. These are very personal questions you're asking – not to mention you're breaking the rules. Remember?"

"Right. Er, sorry. Never mind."

Her gaze flicked from the wall to Ikko. He, too, shuffled back to his natural shell. "Just this once, I'll tell you. Okay?"

"A-are you sure?"

"Hey, you asked – and you're learning. Just, next time you ask this, make sure it's the right time."

"The right time?"

She huffed. "Never mind. I'm a yuki-onna."

"A yuki-onna." He reiterated. "A snow spirit?"

"Rude. I'm flesh and blood, same as you; but yes."

Ikko saw it. Mizore Shirayuki, the snow woman. Suddenly her eyes were glaciers and her hair a cascade of shattered icicles. Beautiful, surely – but a cold, distant beauty. He caught himself in the middle of his rampant assumptions, endeavouring to shake from their shackles. "Ikko?" she asked, noticing his stare.

"Huh?"

"Could you blink or something? It's creepy."

"Sorry! Sorry! This is all new to me…" He tore from her and yanked his phone from his pocket; anything to distract from the woman transforming without so much as moving an inch.

"You see why it's dangerous to ask about this stuff?" Mizore read him like a book. Ikko nodded, staring at the lock screen of his phone. Silence returned to the room, coupled with a twinge of shame. Mizore went back to her desk, the lesson ended for now. She read the words on the paper, but a lingering dissatisfaction caused her to stick on the first sentence over and again. She pushed back her fringe. He'd needed to learn that, of course.

Ikko unlocked his phone and opened his game, but paused on the level select. The exchange just gone consumed his attention, and he played it back over and again. She was right, of course; within mere moments of learning her species, his mind fled to folklore and legends, forever twisting his understanding of Mizore. She was a monster, now – not some cool stranger on the bus or a pretty teacher starting her job at the Academy.

Mizore the yuki-onna.

Mizore the monster. The thought churned and coiled blackly in his chest, shortening his breath. He looked through his phone, to the floor. He hated it. Curiosity be damned, he hated how it changed him. "Mizore!"

She startled from her paperwork. "What? What is it?"

The swell of his emotions made him sound more panicked than the situation demand. Ikko leapt from the sofa, arms stiff and glued to his sides. Mizore boggled at the display. "Ikko, what's wrong?"

"Please forgive me!" He bowed, rigid. "I didn't mean to make you a monster. You're cool. And. Uh."

The resolve that sparked such a desperate bid to rewind their conversation faltered as Ikko realised he had nothing profound to say. His heartfelt apology stumbled around the complexities of the situation. "Th-that is to say. I'm… I'm sorry. For asking."

Stunned, Mizore could only stare at him, lollipop stick drooping in a mouth hung slightly open. A chuckle took her. Not quiet, like before – not restrained like on the bus. For the first time, Ikko heard her laugh properly, clutching her sides. Her entire being brightened, warmth creasing her eyes. "You're so weird!" She cried through her mirth.

"Wh-what?"

"You didn't make me a monster! What are you even trying to say?" He wanted to answer, but her laughter stopped him. "Calling me cool. Oh, Ikko…"

It wasn't quite the effect he'd intended, but he took the warmth before he could spoil it again, chuckling nervously. He sat back down. "I-I only meant-"

"I know what you meant. I know. God…" Mizore wiped her eye. "You need to work on your words."

"Yeah. Heard that before."

"You have?" asked she, after a moment spent calming down. She conceded that she wouldn't be getting any actual work done, once more returning to the couch.

"My dad – he always got on my case for not following through." Ikko scratched the back of his neck. "Speaking clearly, making yourself heard – they're important to him."

"They're important generally." Mizore agreed. The mire of memories threatened to drag her back, but the high of her laughter beat back the creeping tendrils. "You don't want to get swept up in what someone else wants for you, right?"

"Does everything have to be a lesson?" Ikko returned, sass fed by the broken barrier between them.

"Hey – that's my job."

"I thought this was a free period?"

"Teachers don't get free periods." Mizore stretched, sighing wistfully. "It's been paperwork and curriculums for weeks. So much work…"

"Have you always wanted to teach?"

"Hm? No, I stumbled across the idea last year. The headmaster recommended the position to me, said it would be good to have me on board. Of course, now I know he was planning this outreach program, so..."

"Because you were with the human who graduated?"

Mizore's eyes shot to him. Her arms wove into an iron guard about her midsection, as if he'd just pulled a knife on her. "How do you know that?"

"S-sorry!" he yelped. "Ruby mentioned that there was a graduate and the timing makes sense…"

Her heart leapt, turned over itself, and coiled into a knot all at the same time. "Ruby said that?"

"Was she not supposed to? Was I not supposed to tell you? She didn't say it was a secret…" Ikko's panic sang clear. The fact that he'd hit the mark notwithstanding, he clearly fixated on her reaction more than her words. Mizore reached for whatever composure she could muster, slowly unfurling. She heaved a sigh, burdened by the revelation.

"It's a secret to the students of Yokai. The other teachers, too. Only a handful know about it. Yes – I graduated with the human. His name's Tsukune, by the way."

"You knew him?"

"We were friends," she replied, throat constricting. "Good friends. Very… uh…"

Mizore stood, abrupt. "I'm gonna grab a drink. Coffee. Want one?"

"Mizore?"

"I'll get you one. Back in a bit."

She all but slammed the door in her escape from the G.T. classroom. The snap of her shoes carried along the corridor as she walked – not necessarily towards a vending machine, just away. Away from Ikko's damnable innocence. She swore. She cursed. She cursed Ruby. Why would she share that? Why did he need to know? She asked these and more between every breath.

Mizore rounded the corner, stopping short, nearly stumbling. She steadied herself on the wall, breath erratic and shaky. His name. That's all it took. One year later, one year away, one year forgetting – and his name brought everything back. She clutched the stitch in her side, gulping air. Steady. Easy. In…

Out…

In…

"Mizore?"

"Ikko!" she snapped, lashing around. Her cold eyes blazed, wild and raw with fury enough to cow far stronger wills than his. "Ikko – what are you doing? I said – I said I was getting a drink!"

"Sorry." He apologised. Always apologising. Mizore barely heard his meek whispers. "I- I know that look. That's all."

"How could you know? What look? What are you saying?"

"That." He pointed at her. "Not just the look. Your chest – how tight it gets. Taking in more air than your lungs know what to do with."

"So?" Mizore leashed herself to a professional air, for all the good it did. Her body heaved, trying to catch a useful, full breath. "So what?"

"I wanted to help," he offered, fidgeting, "That's what friends do, right?"

"I'm your teacher first," Mizore corrected, closing herself off, "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm fine. I'm fine, alright? Just… go back to the room."

He didn't move. "Please, Ikko. I'm fine, I promise."

Even he wasn't so clueless as to miss the plea in her lie. He nodded, slow, and withdrew with only one more apology to a gruff male voice around the corner. Mizore straightened, smoothed herself out. She focussed on her original task of locating drinks. Fizzy and sweet for her, and for Ikko…

She hovered on the selections, watching coils turn and bottles drop violently into the tray. Ruby kept a bottle of wine for visits from friends and other staff. She could enjoy a glass with her later, between screaming at the woman for telling Ikko about Tsukune.

Tsukune… "No." She shook herself, collecting their drinks. "That's enough. Back to work."

Back to work. Back to class. If she insisted that she was his teacher first, that meant behaving as such. No more running. She'd wasted a year running, exploring the human world. Time to be Miss Shirayuki.

Nodding, Mizore span – almost crashing into someone waiting by the vending machines. "Excuse me," she mumbled, looking up.

"Excuse you," said he, a toned man with a sharp shock of hair and a line of piercings in each ear. He towered over Mizore, and a face normally sold to a simple, calm frown coiled up at the corners, sneering intrigue, "Shirayuki."

Her newfound resolve cracked. Mizore tried to harden, hugging her drinks closer. "Kotsubo."

"What are you doing all the way out here?"

"What does it look like?"

Kotsubo circled around her, reaching for the vending machine. Mizore turned with him, refusing to show her back to him. "I didn't realise you were qualified for G.T. What are you qualified for?"

"It's a special circumstance. New transfer."

"Right, right." He hadn't ordered. Though he looked like he surveyed the drinks, Kotsubo's eyes trained on Mizore. "Special circumstances. Of course you'd be involved."

"What?"

"The headmaster assigned you to the snowflake, did he?" he scoffed, giving up on the ruse. He stuck wide hands in his pockets, leering. "Out here all alone, quarrelling with the new transfer. Moving on so soon, are we?"

Mizore inhaled, harsh enough to sting her longs. "If you're implying-"

"Implying? I'm not implying anything." Kotsubo chuckled, quiet. "We're colleagues now, Shirayuki. That's all in the past. As your senior in the field, I'm only concerned about your performance. If something were to happen so soon on your watch…"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Temper, Shirayuki. Now who's implying?"

Her fist tightened around the neck of her drink. In the distance, the bell signalling the end of class chimed. Kotsubo's smile vanished from sight as he turned his back, but lingered venomously in his words. "Do take care, Shirayuki. The first week is always tough on new teachers and transfers both…"

He turned the corner. It took all her strength to stay standing. She dragged herself back to the G.T. classroom, longing for that glass of wine all the more.