"I don't wanna stop, I know I should

We should not be friends

We'll just do it again

If you stay around

We'll just do it again"

Do It Again by Röyksopp & Robyn

The weekend went by quickly with Jackson mysteriously disappearing after the rave, but then, according to Isaac, he showed up at lacrosse practice Monday afternoon as if nothing had happened. Police were baffled by how a woman was murdered in a crowded building with no witnesses. Isaac had also recounted the tale of what had happened during the rave before Jackson had gotten loose. Nothing was creepier than Jackson supposedly being controlled by someone who had been killed. It was safe to say Isaac hadn't gotten a good night's sleep after that.

I had also learned from Derek that Victoria Argent, Allison's mom, had been the one trying to kill Scott and Derek ended up biting her during the fight with her. That wouldn't end well. Either way, the Argent matriarch would die.

Isaac and I laid on my bed Tuesday morning staring at my ceiling. We had stayed up all night playing video games and neither of us wanted to move from our spots, content to lay next to each other with our shoulders touching. It was the second day of spring break. On Wednesday would be the full moon. None of Derek's betas were looking forward to it. Isaac had already been through one, but that didn't mean he would be perfectly fine.

"Is it normal to feel a full moon before it even happens?" Isaac asked, not looking away from the ceiling. "I'm having some trouble keeping my heartbeat steady."

"Yes, full moons can technically appear full for about three days total, which is probably why you're feeling it now. It'll definitely get worse, though."

He drummed his fingers on his stomach. "Not looking forward to it. I feel like I'm going to pass out."

"That's called sleep deprivation. Not the moon."

"What about the restlessness despite being tired?"

"That'd be the moon."

He turned his head to look at me with a cheeky smile. "Aren't you full of wonderful facts today?"

My eyes drifted over to him, and I snorted and grinned. "Always, but so far, it's still morning."

"Well, then, riddle me this: am I ever going to get an answer?"

My eyebrows pinched together as I turned my head towards him to fully look at him. "Answer to what?"

"That night at Scott's house, when you had me pinned to the floor, I never got a real answer." He bit his lower lip, but I couldn't tell what he was thinking about. At that moment, I became keenly aware of how close we were. I was close enough to count the impurities in his blue eyes and each long eyelash. It would only take the slightest move forward to kiss him. And I definitely wanted to kiss him.

What the hell am I thinking? I asked myself. And what the hell is he thinking? "This is the full moon talking," I forced myself to say.

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. Why couldn't he stop being attractive? Oh, right, he can also hear my heartbeat. "What makes you say that?"

"Because it messes with a werewolf's mind just as much as it does the body. Emotions are at an all-time high."

Isaac slowly reached over and moved a strand of my hair away from my face which didn't help my train of thought. "My emotions haven't changed, I can promise you that." He moved his head closer, to where I could feel the air as he exhaled through his nose.

I had to put a stop to it before I did something I regretted, but I couldn't make myself move away. It felt like a magnetic force was trying to pull me in. I opened my mouth to try and say something, anything, but nothing came out. What's wrong with me?

"Sara! Isaac!" I jumped away at the sound of my mom's voice yelling our names from downstairs. "I made breakfast!" I didn't even glance back at Isaac. I simply left the room.

It's the full moon. It's the full moon. It's the full moon.

I repeated the statement over and over in my head even after Isaac had long left. It was only one and my legs were curled under me as I sat on the kitchen counter nursing a tub of mint chocolate ice cream wearing joggers and a tank top. The cold helped my headache and sedated the urge to stab something or set something on fire.

"You're eating ice cream with a fork," my dad pointed out once he entered the kitchen, stopping in the entry and covered in paint. He must've just come home from his studio.

"It helps pull out the big chocolate swirls," I argued, shoveling a mouthful of chocolate into my mouth. "Leave me alone."

My dad sighed and glanced back at the living room where my mom sat on the couch with Simba in her lap. I saw her shrug at him. My dad turned back to me, mild concern clouding his expression. He walked closer, took off his ballcap, and leaned against the counter next to me. "Okay, what's up, kiddo?" he asked.

Like you actually care. "Nothing."

"It's one in the afternoon and you're eating ice cream straight from the tub. Something's obviously wrong."

I swallowed a mouthful and stabbed the fork into the top of the ice cream. I raised an eyebrow at my dad. "Even if I planned on talking about it, it wouldn't be with my dad."

For a moment, he simply stared back at me, trying to get my meaning. Then he made an 'o' face and nodded a few times. "Gotcha, gotcha. Girl stuff. I get it. . . I'm just gonna go." He awkwardly pointed towards the living room, and I nodded, agreeing with him. My dad ruffled his curly hair as he walked away.

I groaned and scooped some more ice cream into my mouth, only to see my mom get up from the couch and walk towards the kitchen, straightening her dress as she walked. Here we go. I didn't understand why they bothered. It was the first time in almost three months where either of them had shown any concern with my well-being or behavior. Since it had been so long, it was a little difficult to take it seriously.

My mom sat across from me, sitting on the island, crossing one leg over the other, and folding her hands over her knee. Oh, no, she's going all therapist on me. Doesn't she have any clients to do this with today? "What happened?" she asked.

"What makes you think something happened?" I countered, stabbing into the ice cream and swirling around the top layer with the fork.

Her stern dark eyes saw right through my bullshit. "Because last night you were fine. You and Isaac were up 'til about five in the morning playing who knows what, laughing, and being teenagers. Then when I call you down for breakfast, you're both acting strange. He's more talkative and charismatic, and you barely looked up from your pancakes. Usually, it's the other way around. Now, what happened?"

If I was being honest with myself, I wanted to talk about it, but if I was completely honest with her, that would mean telling her about Isaac's new status as a werewolf.

Being close with the Hale's had gotten my brother killed. How would they react to me befriending Derek and his new pack? Beating around the bush would probably be the best move for the time being.

"I like him, okay?" I then stuffed my mouth with another scoop of ice cream and chocolate.

"Is that supposed to be news?" My eyes widened as I looked at her. She dramatically shrugged. "For the past year it hasn't been clear if you two were dating or not. Of course, I'm not surprised you have a crush on him. But that doesn't explain why everything flipped on a dime. Did you kiss him? Did he kiss you? Come on, you've gotta give me more than a blank stare."

"Technically, I don't have to." Her face dropped and she tilted her head, silently asking, "Really?" "Okay, I get it! Just stop staring at me like that." She happily donned a smile. I struggled against rolling my eyes. Why was now the time she decided to prod me for answers? "A few weeks ago, he asked me if I would be okay with being his girlfriend."

"Sara, that's great!"

"No, Mom, it's not," I quickly corrected. My hands gripped the sides of the ice cream tub. I had to consciously avoid melting the ice cream. "There's more to it than that. A lot more. I thought he asked so he could distract me, but then I'm pretty sure he almost kissed me the other day and he brought up the girlfriend thing this morning. And I just. . ." I glanced down at the ice cream in my hands. ". . . froze."

"Sara." My mom's voice was soft and gentle. It was strange to hear. I looked back up at her, exhaling through my nose. "Why didn't you say yes?"

I gritted my teeth, scrunched my face together, and threw back head before finally looking at her normally. I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I need to say it. I need to. "Because tomorrow is the full moon. He's not himself today," I blurted.

"What?"

I tilted my head back and forth, silently scolding myself. "He was bitten right before the last full moon. Isaac's a werewolf."

My mom hopped down from the counter with a stern expression, her perfectly plucked eyebrows lifting. "Please tell me you're joking." When I didn't offer up a response, she shook her head. "You know what werewolves are. They're dangerous. They cause nothing but trouble."

"The fire wasn't Talia's fault!" I blurted, completely done with my mom's bullshit and jumping down from the counter, too. I set the ice cream aside as I glared at my mother, feeling my eyes shift from brown to orange for a second. "Riichi didn't die because of her. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't Laura's fault. Or Cora's or Derek's or any of the rest of them. It was the sadistic abazure, Kate Argent. They were good people. Sure, they got a little angry around full moons, but they were good. They cared about others. They only wanted to live in peace."

"And how would you know? You were a child!"

I raised my arms and my voice again. "Because you wouldn't have been friends with them otherwise! There were humans in that house, too, and you know Talia never would have risked their lives. Derek Hale is the same. While you, the four-hundred-year-old kitsune, have been sitting on your ass, petting the damn cat, or going to work, Derek's the one trying to stop an alpha or a kanima or hunters from terrorizing this town. But he's just a pathetic werewolf, right? Him and his pack? I don't care what you have to say about me, but you better leave Derek and Isaac and the rest of them out of your bitter agenda. They've only tried to make things better. And hating all werewolves won't bring Riichi back."

My mom opened and closed her mouth a few times, speechless but fuming. If she was a fire kitsune, I was sure flames would be coming out of her ears. She pointed at me, her fist clenched tight. "You. . . you-ugh, go to your room!" she finally said.

"Why, does the truth hurt?" My fox-spirit couldn't help but feel content with my snark.

"Sara," my dad sharply said from the kitchen archway. He jutted his head towards the staircase with pleading eyes.

He was going to attempt to calm her down or get her to yell at him instead then we'd all go back to sitting quietly or ignoring each other. "Whatever," I muttered. I threw my hands in the air as I left the kitchen, passing by my dad and running up the stairs to my room.

My door slammed shut behind me and I looked around, my eyes falling on my messenger bag. There was no way I was staying in my room.

Picking up my bag, I emptied the school stuff out of it and filled it with a change of clothes, my wallet, and my phone charger. I pulled on a random beanie over my head, put on a jacket, slipped on a pair of converse, and grabbed my keys and phone. I could hear my mom taking her anger out on my dad and my dad letting the storm rage. Opening my window, I climbed out onto the roof, shut the window, then jumped down, not caring about the slight jolt of pain coursing through my ankles when I landed. Any side effects would heal in moments.

Once in my car, I couldn't pull out of the driveway fast enough. As much as I wanted to drive to the abandoned train station, I didn't want to deal with the moon-effected werewolves, so instead, I found myself driving towards one house to see someone I never thought I'd turn to.

Stiles Stilinski.

Parking on the curb right outside, I took in a deep breath before exiting my vehicle and making my way towards the front door. Before I could change my mind, I rapped my knuckles against the door a few times and waited with a vice-like grip on my bag and a scowl on my face.

Finally, the door opened to reveal my anxiety-ridden classmate. He stood there, stunned to see me. I cleared my throat. "Can I come in?" I asked.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned, skepticism obvious in his voice and on his face.

"I can't be at home right now."

He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, not quite understanding why I was on his doorstep. "What about going to Derek?"

I sighed and thought about what had happened that morning. "That's not the best idea," I said vaguely. "I get it, I'm the last person you thought would ask for a favor and show up at your door."

He nodded crazily. "That's the understatement of the year."

I held my hands up in a placating nature. "Look, I'll answer any question you have about kitsune, alright? Can I just come in and lay low for the day?"

Stiles looked over me slowly and his expression morphed into mild worry. He had plenty to be worried about; I didn't look anything like I usually did. More like I just rolled out of bed instead. "Yeah, alright, come on in." He opened the door further, letting me into his humble abode. Stiles quickly shut the door, glanced around, and gestured for me to follow him. He was probably looking around for his dad. I didn't question it though. I followed him upstairs to his room.

The first thing I noticed was the All Time Low poster behind his bed. I pointed at it. "Nice."

"I don't need to hear any smart-ass remarks about my room, okay?" he said, shutting the door.

"All I said was, 'Nice.' I like them, too." And if I did plan on making a negative comment about his room, it would be about the random pile of brand new Macy's stuff on his dresser.

Stiles stopped moving. "Oh."

I quirked up an eyebrow. "You say that like it's weird."

"I just never thought you'd willingly agree with me on something."

I rolled my eyes and set my bag down by his desk. "I like a band. Wow, crazy. Better send me to Eichen."

"There she is," I heard him mutter. He sat down in his desk chair, and I sat on the stool next to his desk. "So, what happened at home, and why can't you go hang out with Isaac and them?"

"I told you I'd answer questions about kitsune, not my personal problems." He simply looked at me, unamused and unwavering. I decided to give him the short version since he was so graciously allowing me to chill at his place. "Fine, I got into an argument with my mom about werewolves, and this morning, Isaac was acting weird because of the full moon tomorrow, and I don't wanna deal with any of the bullshit right now."

"Wait, so your mom knows about werewolves?" Stiles asked, leaning towards me.

I nodded. "My mom is a kitsune, too. We used to be close with the Hale's."

"What happened to that?"

"My brother died, that's what happened."

Stiles bobbed his head up and down, even more uncomfortable than he was before. "Alright, next question. Um, what is a kitsune? I've tried Googling it, but honestly, I'm just mostly confused at the results and Wikipedia isn't exactly a reliable source on the real thing."

I snorted. It definitely wasn't. Wikipedia articles about supernatural creatures were purely based on myths and legends with a potential dash of the truth. If any amateur tried to become a hunter based on information from Wikipedia, they would likely die pretty quickly. "We're fox-spirits. Sort of like werewolves, but our abilities are more magical in nature rather than physical."

Stiles pulled out a notepad and started writing things down. "What kind of abilities?"

"Well, like werewolves, we are stronger, faster, and more agile than humans. But werewolves are a lot stronger than kitsune and kitsune are faster than werewolves. We have similar healing abilities and when using our abilities, our eyes shift colors. We only have one color, though, and that's orange." Except for nogitsune, but the human in front of me didn't need to know about them. He had enough to worry about with werewolves, kanimas, and regular kitsune.

Stiles looked up from the paper. "Can you show me?"

"You are morbidly curious about way too much."

"I know, it'll probably be the death of me." Shaking my head with a sigh, I indulge his curiosity and shift my eyes for a few seconds so he could see the glowing orange irises. "That is so cool." I shrugged. I guess it would be cool if you didn't grow up knowing about it and seeing it all the time. "Is there anything else you can do?"

"There are thirteen types of kitsune, each with different abilities specific to them. I'm a fire kitsune. Pretty sure that's self-explanatory."

"Can you create it or just control it?"

"Both."

He brought the pen up to his mouth, leaning back in his chair with an awed expression. "So you're a real-life firebender?"

"Sure, yeah, I guess."

"Awesome." He pumped his fists and turned back to the paper. Friggin' dork. "What other kinds are there?"

"Wind, earth, river, ocean, forest, mountain, thunder, celestial, dark, time, sound, and spirit."

"I'm assuming some of those are basically the other bending nations?"

"I want to hit you so bad."

Stiles turned to me, paused, and then scooted his chair a little further away. "I'm taking that as a yes."

I held out my hand. "Just give me the notepad and pen. I'll write down what each of them can do. It'll be faster than me spouting it and your crappy scribbles trying to make sure you get everything." He begrudgingly handed me the pad and pen. My handwriting compared to his was incredibly neat, but his also looked like chicken scratches so that didn't say much.

As I wrote, taking special care to be lax on my description of dark kitsune, my attention was grabbed by the door opening. "Hey, Stiles, I-" Sheriff Stilinski paused in the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob. His eyes flicked back and forth between Stiles and I. "Miss Todd, hi." He looked strange in civilian clothing.

I awkwardly waved the hand that held the pen. "Hi, Mr. Stilinski. How are you?"

"I'm good, thank you." His eyes still continued glancing between his son and me until he finally settled on Stiles. "Uh, I was thinking about pizza for dinner. How's that sound?"

"Um, sounds good, Dad," Stiles quickly replied with a nod. "Remember, veggies: healthy."

"Right, yeah, yeah." The elder Stilinski waved and nodded at us teenagers and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

I turned to Stiles. "Why do I get the feeling this is the first time a girl's ever been in your room?" I asked.

"Because it is."

I rolled my eyes and got back to writing.

Three hours later, Stiles and I were sitting on his floor playing chess. He wanted to teach me how to play the Pokémon card game, but I took one look at the Ninetales card that he held up with a dumb grin and told him to fuck off. That led him to call me Ninetales for the past two hours and me threatening him multiple times, but he decided to continue.

As I moved one of my knights, his bedroom door opened. Scott froze in place, a confused look overcoming his expression as he gazed down at us. "Uh, what's going on?" he asked slowly. Scott fully entered the room and shut the door.

Stiles took one of my pawns with his bishop, not even looking up at Scott. "She's beating my ass at chess," he answered.

"Baka," I muttered, looking at the board. "You moved your bishop directly in line with my rook. Are you even trying?" I had already taken his other bishop.

Stiles groaned in frustration, realizing his mistake and rubbing his face with his hands. "Fuck. How are you so good at chess?"

"Have you thought that maybe you're just really bad?"

"He always beats me," Scott chimed in as he sat down in Stiles' desk chair and scooted it a little closer to where we sat on the floor.

Shaking his head, Stiles turned to his best friend. "That's because you, Scott, are absolutely terrible at chess."

I raised my eyebrows. "Jeez, that's saying something." I smirked a little, officially moving my rook and taking Stiles' bishop. "Don't feel too bad, though. Kitsune are naturally good at games."

The human's face dropped. "Really?" he asked. "That is so unfair. No wonder you didn't wanna play a game you don't know."

I rolled my eyes while frowning and shaking my head. "I didn't want to play Pokémon because you showed me a damn card with a kitsune on it."

"What Pokémon is a kitsune?" Scott asked, looking incredibly amused at our bickering.

"Ninetales."

"Seriously?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It's a damn fox creature with nine tails. The card literally said that if you piss it off, you'll get cursed. And it's a damn fire type. All of that points to it being a kitsune, chikushō."

Scott folded his hands in front of him. "Do kitsune breath fire and live for a thousand years, too?" he wondered.

"We can. It depends, but essentially, yeah."

Scott and Stiles glanced at each other. "Awesome," the boys chorused together.

"You two are such dorks."

"You're the one playing chess," Scott pointed out.

I gave him a slight look of appreciation. I was strangely proud that he called me out on something. "Touché."

Scott's big brown eyes gazed into mine for a few seconds before he blinked and cleared his throat. He gestured to the room. "So, uh, what are you doing here anyway? Stiles' room is kinda the last place I ever thought I'd see you." Sometimes I wondered why Scott McCall was so weird, but I brushed it aside, ignoring my fox-spirit stir.

Stiles used his last knight to take one of mine. "She got into an argument with her mom and Isaac fucked up." Stiles then looked away from the board and back at me. "You never did tell me what Isaac did."

I glared at him. "I said he was acting weird, not that he messed up." Scott and Stiles made the same 'oof' noise and scrunched their faces.

"Oh, he's definitely in the doghouse. Come on, tell Stiles," Stiles said in the third person. "This session is free, by the way. The next one you have to pay for." I couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculous nature. "Aha!" Stiles pointed at me, beaming from ear to ear. "Finally! I knew I could get you to laugh."

"If you want me to laugh, all you have to do is fall down the stairs." I then moved my rook to the corner of the board. "I've got you in check. No, wait, actually, checkmate." I gave the erratic boy a smile. "You have to watch out for the bishop and his queen."

Abazure - Bitch

Baka - Idiot

Chikushō - Damn it, oh shit, oh hell