Ikko stared at his reflection. He pushed his hair back, checked his uniform, and finally nodded to himself, smiling satisfaction.

Golden Week was over. They had returned to Yokai Academy without fanfare, and the last of the week had flown by in a haze of club activities and café breaks.

For the first time since he'd stumbled into this world, Ikko had started to feel like he belonged.

A hungry chittering broke him from reverie. His shikigami sat patiently on his desk, teeth clicking together as it expressed its desire for breakfast. "Sorry, sorry," he mumbled, reaching into the drawer and extracting a stick about the length of his finger, "There you go. Better?"

Was it his imagination, or did the spindly creature look a little flabby? Maybe the calm of Golden Week had given it time to relax. Once done, it crawled happily onto his wrist and took its usual form, eye blinking once before closing. Ikko brushed his sleeve down and left his room, joining the rear of the pack trailing down the staircase. Twos and threes chatted excitably about their brief break, either away or at home. Friends reunited and snapped selfies. He grinned as one student's guise slipped, causing a brief moment of chaos as the poor guy nearly doubled in size, bumping his head on the staircase above him.

For his part, he kept his hands in his pockets and his mouth shut until he hit the bottom of the steps, where the genders mixed. A full tide now pressed towards the academy, the return to school inevitable. Ikko ducked out to the side of the crowd, hiding by the side of the stairs to wait. He checked his phone as he did so, reading back the message from Su that he'd received on the last night of the vacation.

Su S.: we'll try etsuko again today

He could barely contain his excitement. His return from the human world marked an ecstatic turn of events in the form of Su pulling him aside one club meeting, out into the corridor.

"I think I've figured him out," she had said, "And I think I've figured out what's going on with Etsuko."

The chance to reclaim his friend burned bright in him, sparking his joy for the return of term. Had this been how Tsukune felt, he wondered? Working together with his friends to deal with the trouble that came his way? Aglow, he looked up from his phone – and in that same breath, the warmth sputtered to a dull ember.

"Ikko?"

Kia stood barely a foot away, her hair dishevelled from having to fight her way out of the now-dwindling crowd. She smiled nervously his way, lacing and unlacing her fingers rhythmically at her waist. "I thought that was you," she said, stepping forward, "Almost didn't-" Ikko took a reflexive step back. Her cheerful tone stumbled. "-recognise you…"

He opened his mouth. The memories of his state post-feeding gnarled into a glut in his throat, choking whatever he wanted to say. Hindsight made it worse – his feelings now, bright and happy and true, painted those first days of Golden Week in horrific, pallid shades. Knowing the cause, now, made fear his response to the withering girl before him.

She took another step. His back pressed up against a pillar. "Ikko," Kia whispered, "I know what I did. I know what I've done to you. I know I can't make it up with words, but- but please."

Her eyes glistened readily with tears. Ikko finally found the sense to close his mouth, clearing his throat. "Don't run away from me," she pleaded, "You're all I've-"

"Tayama!"

Su's voice pierced the hubbub. A couple of students had stopped to gossip, drawn by the scene, and now they shot wary looks at the senior striding down the steps, her eyes fixed on the flinching girl. Ikko's heart leapt to see the satori; she made a straight line and stood between them, her back turned from Ikko to face Kia. Kia's eyes bulged, wild, and she backed away. "What's going on?" Su demanded, "Are you bothering Akada?"

"I didn't- I-I wasn't-" The tears flowed freely. Kia tore from Su's glare and fled.

Watching her go, Su set her hands on her hips and huffed. "You okay?"

"Huh?" Ikko blinked. Their entertainment over, the last students began to disperse, leaving them alone. "Yeah, I'm fine. She came out of nowhere."

"Figures she'd try to get you on the first day back." Su sighed. "Lucky thing I was here."

He looked to the space where Kia had stood. "She looked like she wanted to apologise."

"Maybe she did, but after what she's done…" Su sighed. "Listen, Ikko. I know people who have to feed. They don't keep it secret from their friends unless that friend's on the menu."

"Who do you know?"

"Moka."

"Oh."

Su turned fully towards him, "I doubt she'll try it again whilst we're walking. Want me to stick by you today?"

"No – I'll be alright. You have your own classes."

She smiled. "Okay. C'mon – we'll both end up late if we dawdle."

They started again towards the campus proper. His excitement to return a mere shade of itself, now daunted by the prospect of dealing with Kia behind him in homeroom, Ikko's feet dragged. Even remembering that they were helping Etsuko snap out of whatever Masumi had put her under didn't encourage him, though he did ask about it. "Not here," Su whispered, "I'll grab you on break, 'kay? We'll do it together."

At his homeroom, Su broke into a run, for the bell sounded as soon as they reached it. Ikko hastened inside, catching Mizore's eye as he did so. She gave him a look which he dodged, taking his seat near the back. He kept his gaze on the floor so as to keep Kia out of view as he took his seat. "We all here? Good." Mizore clapped her hands together, calling the class to attention. "Nice break? Relaxing?"

A murmur of assent sounded out from the class. Students who had mere minutes ago been happily chattering now looked at each other with mounting dread. Ikko watched the empathetic smile creep across Mizore's lips. "You all know what's coming. Midterms are a couple of weeks away. That means-"

The murmur broke into a collective groan. A few heads hit desks. In the din, Ikko dared to glance back at Kia, who stared out of the window, tear tracks still fresh in her makeup. He snapped back to staring at his desk. "That means!" Mizore shouted over her class. "You'd best get your revision in while you can. I want each and every one of you ready for finals, you hear? One year with you lot is quite enough, thank you very much."

Students laughed – that announcement out of the way, the rest of homeroom passed without incident. By the time the bell rang for the first classes of the day, Ikko had happily tuned out.

A shape shot past him as students turned back to the conversations postponed by homeroom. Ikko saw Kia beeline towards Mizore, grabbing her attention with a quiet call. He frowned after her – an expression that worsened when he realised that whatever they were talking about caused Mizore to shoot Ikko a very teacherly expression. He hurriedly snatched his phone up to give himself something to do.

Between class prep and club, he and Mizore had spoken barely a few words to each other since their trip to the human world, putting the matter of what had happened that night firmly out of their minds. If she had anything to say about it, she kept it to herself, so Ikko chose to do the same. Seeing her now, leading Kia into the quiet of her office, gave him a weird, uncomfortable jolt. Is that how it would be? Was their night as close friends just that; a night? Where did that leave them?

He started to push that thought from his mind, about to redouble his concentration on a particularly difficult stage of one of his mobile games, when Mizore's head poked out from her office. "Akada!"

Silence descended. All at once, the class looked to the startled boy at the very back. "In here, please."

Whispers followed him as he moved stiffly towards Mizore. Her expression didn't budge from frigid severity, not even as she stood aside to hold the door open. Ikko trudged into her office, spying Kia immediately. She paced back and forth, wringing her hands, her breath barely steady despite the obvious effort. She didn't look up.

He heard the lock click. "Okay." Mizore began, sighing. "Ikko-"

"Miss, I don't want to be here," Ikko said, before his fear took control once more. He didn't want to face Kia – not if it meant dealing with this wretched revulsion nestled at the very core of his being.

"Ikko." Mizore repeated, calmly. "Hear her out."

"After what she's done?"

She closed her eyes. The accusation stopped Kia in her tracks. Ikko heaved a breath, fighting to keep anger at the forefront. Anger gave him a voice, it gave him control, and how dare Mizore force him to-

"I didn't ask to be like this."

It took him a moment to realise it was Kia speaking. The broken, trembling voice quivered alone, so far from the memories bubbling to the surface. Her smile, her laughter, her teasing. She spoke again before Ikko could regain his foothold, stepping up to him. "You think I wanted this? Do you think anyone asks to be born the way I am?"

The colour of her eyes flickered, giving way to rotten, watery depths. Ikko's breath caught – he stumbled back. "I hate it," Kia pressed, "I hate every second of it. Ever since I awoke, I've had to – to do that, just to keep going. Just to smile when I'm supposed to, to cry when I want to, to feel anything even remotely close to normal. If I don't…"

The tears had stopped, or had they simply been swallowed by those monstrously deep eyes? Yet Ikko couldn't speak. He watched her outburst, transfixed. "My father," she spat the word with an unexpected viciousness, "Promised he'd stay out of it if I could control myself. Then Masumi happened, and you came along, and… and…"

"You decided I'd look good on the menu?" Ikko filled in, folding his arms tight around his chest. He heard Mizore shift uncomfortably behind him.

"I didn't decide anything!" Kia cried, "I'd never do that, not on purpose! I'd been skipping the days I was supposed to go out. I thought I'd be good and I-I was, but then we had that night together and I just… I lost control."

He was dragged back to that night. Closing his eyes to the warmth of her touch and the sweetness of her scent – waking to a cold shock, a chunk of ice gouging out his insides. Realization hit him like a brick. "That was you! You were feeding on me while I slept!"

"I couldn't help it!" she pleaded, "I knew what I'd done, but you blamed it on a nightmare when you woke up, so I didn't say anything. I hid in my room, b-but then you showed up again…"

Ikko turned on the spot. He started pacing, hoping to corral his thoughts – or at least burn some of this frantic energy that threatened to crush his ability to speak. He caught sight of Mizore as he spun, seeing a deep conflict in her gaze. It seemed she realized that this was worse than she had been told. She avoided his eye. "You're saying it's my fault?" Ikko whispered.

"No! Never!" Kia shook her head, frantically wringing her hands, "This is all so messed up… I would never hurt you like that on purpose, Ikko – you have to believe me!"

"But you did."

"I would have attacked anyone who came my way – don't you see? That's why I locked myself up! It would have been that woman who came looking for us, or Etsuko, or-or anyone who came near me. You don't know – you don't know how it gets, Ikko. That instinct…"

"Instinct is instinct." Mizore interjected. His gut wrenched as he recalled her words.

"It might not be the lion's fault – but that doesn't stop them munching on antelope all the livelong day. Instinct is instinct, Ikko. Yokai was established, in part, to help young monsters learn to manage their drives. Some of these kids have never seen a human before."

He glared at her, then rounded his glare on Kia. "You just want me to forget this happened? Go back to how we were?"

"I hurt you," Her voice quaked, "I hurt you so bad – I know. My father, he- he showed me what happens if we lose control. To think that could have been you… but I won't let it happen again, I swear. I'll do whatever you want, whatever you need to do to feel safe. Just give me a chance, Ikko, please. I'm begging you."

Ikko swallowed. He wanted to turn away, to run, to abandon this dreadful memory and go back to the Writing Club. He levelled his gaze with hers, his eyes brimming with bitten back fury. Her rotten, mangled blues stared back, the sign of her failing guise, her fractured composure. He understood, with a jolt, that she had spoken this all sincerely. He knew her well enough to know that no amount of practise buried those eyes when it mattered.

He took a deep, steadying breath. His anger began to fade, its tongues still flickering over his charred tongue as he tried to find the words to mask his fear. "We start fresh," he said, voice creaking under the weight of his caution, "Not a clean slate, but- slowly. That's all I can promise."

"Ikko-!"

"And if you ever," he interrupted, taking a step back to her thrust forward. Mizore pushed off the door, "If you ever do this again…"

"I know." Kia sniffed. "I'll show you, Ikko. You can trust me, I swear."

He let his shoulders slump. "Alright," Mizore ventured, unlocking the door. "Kia, go… go clean yourself up, okay?"

Kia bowed. She looked at Ikko as she left, nodding once and smiling faintly as she vanished through the door.

Mizore turned the lock again. Ikko's knee buckled; he clambered into the nearest seat, chest heaving. "What the hell, Mizore?" he groaned, "It's the first day back!"

"When else were you going to do this?"

"Never!"

"Exactly," she leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, "You couldn't let that hang over you, Ikko. You knew it was coming."

"You didn't have to force it on me!"

Mizore arched a brow. He reeled his volume back in his next words. "She damaged my soul," he said, "That's what Ruby said – my soul. How am I supposed to forgive that?"

"Maybe you don't," Mizore replied, "Maybe this doesn't work out, but you had to at least try. You can't spend Yokai shutting anyone who's remotely dangerous out of your life. We're monsters – it comes with the territory."

"You're monsters." Ikko corrected.

"Yeah, but you're on our turf." Her counter didn't miss a beat. She grabbed the chair from behind her desk and dragged it over to where he sat, setting it in front of her. "You're playing by our rules, Ikko. Monsters get hurt. Some monsters feed. You accepted that when you signed up, remember?"

He dropped his head into his head, sighing all the heavier for the truth of it. "One day," he grumbled, "Just give me one without mortal peril. Is that so hard to ask?"

"Maybe," Mizore breathed, "But you're forgetting something important."

"Do enlighten me."

She reached out to brush his hair back, in the same motion pushing his forehead so that his eyes lifted from his palms. "Any funny business, and she'll have me to answer to."

Ikko's cheeks flushed. Her cold touch threw his burning blood into sharp relief. He willed it to cool, eyes dropping once more to the floor, and sat up properly. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours," she replied, simple, "The side that sees you enjoying your time here, anyway."

Ikko huffed. "It doesn't feel that way."

Her eyes rolled. "Ikko, can you imagine what it's like for her? Just for one second?"

"I can't-"

"Try," she snapped, with a sudden shift in tone, "Did you hear what she said, at all, or were you so focused on your own hurt? She said her father showed her what happened when her kind loses control."

"Yeah…?"

"What do you think that means?"

"It means," Ikko began, but his certainty failed under the slightest scrutiny. His stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. He covered his mouth. "Oh, god."

"Exactly." She pressed. "You're not the only one with scars from this, Ikko. Any monster in that position is gonna struggle their whole lives, and not just because of how they look."

The quiet drenched the last embers of pestilent spite. Ikko shuddered. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"You move on," Mizore suggested, "You both move on, and you help each other do it. That's what friends are for, right?"

He found shame in the smouldering remains of the conversation. "I didn't even think…"

"Sometimes we don't," she finished, "But what's done isn't important – what's important is what happens next."

He chuckled, hollow, and shot her a wry look. "When did you get so wise?"

"I am a teacher," she countered, feigning indignance, "And I had some help over the vacation."

"Oh, did you? From who?"

"Who do you think? C'mon," Mizore jumped to her feet, "You're already late to your next class."

"That's your fault!"

"Good thing it's my class then, hm?" she beckoned for him to stand, "Out you get!"


Kia returned to her seat part-way through Mizore's lesson. Ikko wasn't the only person to take note, he saw, of the puffy eyes and bowed head of the usually bubbly girl. She took her seat behind him with no comment on greeting; he tried a smile as she passed, but she either didn't see it or didn't acknowledge it.

The class itself proved worse than anything they'd suffered pre-break. Mizore had doubled down on her warning that one year in her class was quite enough. Struggle as he did with the material, he found himself smiling; a kind of confidence carried her that he had not seen in their first lessons. He wondered if she'd received the results of her exam.

His mind wandered the more the class dragged on, wanting to be studying less and less, and dealing with Masumi more and more. He felt proactive, determined – an extremely rare combination these days, especially given Kia's upsetting reappearance in his life. He frowned, skimming the same line his textbook a third time. Break wasn't until lunch. It seemed like fifty years would pass, and the matter of Masumi still would not be addressed.

Compelled by that increasingly nervous energy, he spun in his seat to face Kia the moment the bell rang. He took Mizore's words to heart; they had to move on, both of them, and he had to make the first move. "You coming to club after school?"

"Eh?" Kia looked up. "Club?"

"You didn't quit, did you?"

"N-no, but-" she fidgeted. Ikko forced a smile.

"Don't worry about Su. She'll understand once we explain."

"Are you sure?" she whispered, "Really? I didn't think you'd want me there."

"I'm sure," he nodded, "And, um… I'm sorry. I got angry – I didn't even think about what you were going through."

"What're you talking about?" she hissed, "Ikko, I don't blame you for a second."

He smiled, sincerely this time, and stuck out a hand. "We good?"

She stared at it. He saw her eyes flicker; it lasted for all of an instant before her baby blues shone with relief. She grasped his hand tight, squeezing. "Yeah. We're good."

He turned more properly to face her, swinging his chair about and leaning on her desk. "How was your vacation?"

"Oh, you know," Kia shrugged, "Fine. Father was glad to see me, I'm sure."

Ikko stumbled. He regretted asking it the moment he saw her eyes glaze over, but the topic was in the air now. "Do you not get along?"

"Not really," she sighed, coming to rest on the desk. She put her head in one hand. "Mom died when I was pretty young, and my father wanted to raise me in a manner befitting our nature. When I first started showing my mother's side, that became impossible, so he shipped me off to Yokai's elementary school."

"How so?"

She dipped her voice. "Can we not talk about this?"

"R-right, sorry."

"It's okay. I don't like thinking about him unless I have to."

Ikko nodded, understanding. Though he remained sure that his quarrels with his parents were no more than trivialities next to Kia's, he still didn't like mentioning them. "Did you say Yokai has an elementary school?"

"Mmhm," Kia nodded, "They have everything up to college, and they run an orphanage, too. Lots of kids whose parents can't cope end up there."

"Must be rough."

"It's not so bad. Etsuko's from there, and she turned out alright."

His stomach gave an unsteady lurch. How would he broach Etsuko's new relationship with Masumi?

Kia must have spied his expression, for she asked what was bothering him. Before he could give anything close to a proper answer, however, the bell rang and their next lesson – Maths – commenced. As they settled into the next hour, Ikko clenched his jaw and steeled himself. Su would meet him after the lesson, and together they would face Masumi and… what, exactly?

He hadn't thought about that bit, as excited as he was by the prospect of Su's supposed way to deal with him. What had she discovered – and how would they use it? Even if they could use it, could they do so on campus, in full view of teachers?

Ikko shook his head, chastising himself. He had to be ready, had to be sure if he wanted even a snowball's chance in hell of doing anything to help Etsuko. Such was his distraction that he nearly didn't stand when called on to answer a question, and gave only a half-hearted shot at solving the equation when presented.

"Really," snapped the teacher, Miss Kagome, "Is this how you want to start your midterms, Akada?"

"No, ma'am," he replied, taking his seat again. He'd heard on the grapevine that Miss Kagome had a unique tutoring style for struggling students, the thought of which made him tremble. He tried to concentrate on the lesson as it dragged. Thirty more minutes… fifteen… five…

Ikko nearly bolted ahead of the bell as he counted down the last seconds of Maths. As expected, Su poked her head into the classroom the moment break began, smiling his way. He gathered his things. "Where are you going?" asked Kia.

"Oh, uh-" Ikko's heart sank. He couldn't ask Kia to get involved, not with Masumi. The last thing she needed was more upsets on her first day back. "I've got something to do with Su. I'll try and talk to her about club, alright?"

"Mm. Sure." Kia smiled, weak, "I've got my phone if you need anything – oh, wait. Did you get yours sorted?"

He nodded. They exchanged numbers before he hurried off to greet Su.

He was halfway past the teacher's desk when a firm hand gripped his shoulder. Miss Kagome peered down at him over the bridge of her glasses. "Akada."

"Miss Kagome!" Ikko yelped. Some of the nearby students sniggered at his fright. "I-I'm sorry about before. I got a little distracted."

He tried his very best to keep his eyes locked on her large-lensed glasses, for she favoured shirts that could be charitably described as form-fitting. He cleared his throat. Miss Kagome continued to stare. "If it happens again, you'll be seeing me after class. I can't be letting one of my students slip off the wagon, now can I?"

"Yes, of course. Absolutely. Won't happen again."

She brightened, full lips pushing into a happy smile. "Miss Tojo of Campus Security wished to see you after break. You'll be with her for G.T., is that clear?"

Ruby? What did she want? With so much on his plate, Ikko very nearly forgot his meeting with Su, until the satori cleared her throat. "Yes, of course. G.T. after break. No problem. Thank you, Miss Kagome."

He yanked away from her hand and hastened to Su's side. She shot him a knowing grin. "Still struggling with your Guise, eh?"

"You know how it is…" Ikko mumbled, following quickly after her.

They didn't speak until they were shot of the campus proper, walking across the wasted grounds towards a building he'd never used before. Ikko vaguely recalled it from the map of Yokai Academy as the old student council building. It loomed in the dreary afternoon gloom, rotting wood and boarded windows wheezing groaning as they weathered the occasional gust of wind. It looked abandoned – but then so did the dorms on first glance. "So what do we do?" He asked, keeping step with Su's strides. "Why are we out here? You said you'd figured him out?"

"Oh, it's simple, really." Su answered, marching ahead. She spun on her heel to face him, her hair loose in the wind, ungloved fingers laced together.

Ikko hesitated. Su never went anywhere without her gloves. She didn't face the day without them, to manage the constant influx of emotional thoughts a simple graze with another student could cause. Why the change?

A cold shock gripped him as he saw a terribly familiar, willowy frame perched on the porch of the old student council building. Masumi sprang to his feet as they approached.

"We don't beat him, Ikko," Su sang, "We join him."