Just as one slowly eases a sick person back to normal tasting food after a while of eating hospital grub, Boscha noticed little changes easing themselves into her life one at a time.

She had never been one to believe in destiny, or prophecies. The red thread of fate was just another fairytale her nanny would tell her when she tucked little Boscha in to sleep. But recently, she started noticing certain patterns that made her start questioning all that.

One day she heard a loud racket break out in the hallways during a recess. An unexpectedly strong wave of irritation washed over her, and she turned around to stare daggers at whoever the responsibles were, a technique that tended to work quite well on the younger students when they started getting rowdy.

To her surprise (not), it was the human and her friends, because of course it was them. Most of the commotion nowadays was the sole work of the human and the little runt, but the Blight priss didn't stay far behind.

Then they all turned to face one end of the hallway, and started smiling brightly while motioning someone to come over. Some seconds later, the half-a-witch walked up to them with the same disgustingly saccharine gesture on her face.

What were they even that happy about? Exams week wasn't close to being over, nor had she heard anything about the human going on yet another life risking adventure. At first Boscha thought they were sweetening each other up for something, but that something never came. They simply babbled about trivial nonsense, told each other how their day had gone, pointless stuff.

Weird.

Did her friends do the same when they saw her? Without needing any reason to? She never really cared to notice, and she for sure couldn't recall doing it. Boscha couldn't relate to whatever it was that made them light up when they saw each other. Maybe she did once, but that would have been too long ago to remember, and vague memories tried to flash past her mind, too blurry to evoke anything in her.

It must be nice, thought Boscha for a fleeting moment, having something that makes your day better just by being there. Somebody. No hidden catch, no strings attached.

The screaming bell took her out of her musing; she shook her head trying to push those strange thoughts away, and left for her next class.

Some weeks later half of Hexside was still walking on eggshells while the other half were reveling in the apparent calm. Some people had really taken a liking to this newfound sense of freedom, and took some liberties that any other time would have been serious transgressions. Boscha was starting to face the consequences of her slacking.

"You did… what?"

"I asked Willow if she wanted to come play a friendly match with us. She's crazy good with plants and I thought she could help us train for the next match with St. Epiderm. I heard their new captain leans much more on plant magic than-" The bard, as was typical of them, had already come up with an impressively convincing pretext to get away with her audacity.

Boscha couldn't believe it. "That doesn't-!"

She pinched the bridge of her nose and inhaled deeply, trying to keep herself in check. The worst of all was that it was a good argument. She didn't know if it was the tiredness taking over after months of having to fight her way to the end of the day, or Skara was just that good, but anyway she chose to buy it.

Boscha gestured dismissively at the rest of her team, "Ugh, whatever. As long as she can keep up with us and doesn't drag you down, go nuts." She hadn't been in the mood for her usual back-breaking training drills lately, the friendly match would be a nice breather.

But let's be honest, what has gone Boscha's way as of late?

Willow dragged them down alright, just not in the way Boscha had expected. Her teammates stood panting, barely holding up, after only 30 minutes of 'friendly' play. There wasn't a single section of exposed skin that didn't have a scratch from those blasted vines. Cat was still passed out on a bench from being knocked out by a sleeping-pollen spewing monstrosity.

Boscha had gotten to get quite a few kicks in, Willow wouldn't get to come out unscratched from it, she made sure of that. But by the Titan, she hadn't had such a strenuous match since… she couldn't even remember.

Even though her arms had some minor burns and on her cheek there were the beginnings of a bruise forming, Willow stood seemingly unaffected, with a relaxed posture, a content smile on her face.

"That was fun!"

Boscha looked at her as if she had grown a second head. Which mind you, it wasn't that uncommon among witchkind, but it was still weird enough.

"Like hell it-" Skara jumped out of nowhere and pushed Boscha to the side to cling to Willow's side.

"I know right?! We have to do this again, pleeeeease?"

The two girls started nerding out over the next time they would be able to play a friendly match, without thinking at all of consulting her, the captain! Whatever.

Boscha simply rolled her eyes at the girls' blinding enthusiasm. Having known Skara for so many years she knew there was no use in fighting it when she set her mind to something. The best choice one could make when facing the Skara tsunami was to ride the wave, or drown resisting it. So she decided to leave them to their own devices and turned away to get away from the commotion.

As Boscha started the way back to the showers, she felt a sharp sting come from her left foot. She looked down and saw a thorny vine had dried up while around her ankle, and when she moved it the spikes drove themselves deeper into her skin. They proved unyielding to her careless tugging, and were too close to her skin to simply burn off.

She walked away trying to conceal the discomfort, the slightest stiffness appreciable in her step, when she heard someone call out her name while hurried steps came her way. Boscha turned around to see the half… the witch stopping just a couple feet away from her.

"I knew I was missing something, here."

With a flick of her finger, the bone-dry vine plumped up again and was coaxed into releasing the grip it had on Boscha's ankle. Then it dropped down on the floor and wiggled away to Titan knows where. She looked down at her now freed ankle and then back to the other girl. I didn't ask you to do that, she would have spitted out, once upon a time. None of it came out.

It didn't feel like it was the nothingness' doing though. There was something inside her that pulled her back from saying that. It just didn't feel right.

Huh.

"... Thanks."

And without a word, Willow walked past her, out of the field, back towards the main building. Despite the kindness of the act itself, she hadn't even smiled while helping her out of the vine. Maybe she did it for the plant's sake, rather than Boscha's. Maybe she thought the poor little thing didn't deserve to be stuck to mean-old Boscha, who would have probably burnt it off as soon as she found a way to do it safely.

Somehow, she was alright with that.

Another fateful day they were made to sit side by side, as they were put to work on an activity together. Fortunately it wasn't very long, some chart-thing that could be started and completed in that very same period. They had finished with plenty of time to spare and were trying to pass time working on other things. Or at least, Willow was.

Boscha may not be getting the best of marks, but she wouldn't put more time than was strictly necessary on school work, thank you.

Bored out of her mind without her scroll, her eyes wandered to the girl next to her, down to whatever she was doing. Willow seemed to be writing down some notes from the book they were given for the class activity, the nerd. Sometimes, she would put down the black ink pen and pick up another, a green one shaped like a twisty stem with a flowery maw at the top.

With just as much care as she had when taking notes, she would accessorize them with doodles of plants and other greenery. Sometimes the bullet points would be a bud, or some flower Boscha distinctly remembered having seen when she would pass by the greenhouse's door, or the page breaks were curly vines adorned with leaves and thorns.

Tasteful little things, they were. Anatomically correct because of course they were, yet somehow still simple. Willow scribbled them almost without a thought, as if it were second nature for her.

They complemented the notes quite nicely. Her tidy, loopy handwriting in black ink went hand in hand with the vibrant green doodles, and put attention right where it was needed.

Boscha looked down at the few messy scrawls she had for notes. She didn't even think to try something similar. They weren't worth the effort. Besides, what could she possibly use? There wasn't a lot of inspiration one could take from potions. Flasks and tubes just weren't that eye-catching.

Maybe she could ask her to share her notes? They were much nicer than anything she could dream of making and-

Ah, who was she kidding? Willow would never agree to that. What reason did she have to do so? She would probably think Boscha was gonna burn them to ashes or something like that.

It's not like she hadn't done that a couple times. Only now it was the first time she had actually gotten to see the target of her destruction before committing it.

Her memories of the other girl's pained expression at her petty destruction now didn't seem as sweet as before.

Willow hadn't really deserved any of that, huh? She was strong, smart, hardworking, and last but not least, nice. Even when she was sure that wasn't the best for her.

Something twisted painfully inside her chest. Boscha didn't know what it was, it didn't feel like anything she had felt before. These last few months had gotten her so unused to her feelings, that at first she thought it was a purely physical thing. Could it be-

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Uggghh, ribcage worms were always such a hassle.

Now not only were they forced once again to work together -seriously, what the fuck was up with that history teacher- but also they had to make a presentation on some laws that were only applied like, 3 times in the last 2 centuries. A presentation! That implies setting aside actual time after class, having to find a neutral place to arrange a meeting, and interacting like normal people! Titan take her.

But somehow, somehow, besides some painfully awkward silences, they had managed to not kill each other, nor even come close to it, and slowly but surely the project could be finished. And it wasn't even half-assed! It was actually good.

Not good enough to fully calm Willow's nerves, it seemed. The girl was squirming in her seat as if someone had dropped red ants down her shirt. Which, although totally something she would have come up with, once upon a time, in this particular situation it hadn't been the case.

Boscha couldn't get it. Like, she wasn't the most devoted of students, but it was a damn good presentation. They made the snoozefest that was that law's history into something that could almost be called interesting.

They had even accessorized the poster's main points with little green things as was the other girl's custom.

Yes, they, as in, both of them had done the doodling. Willow gave her a mistrustful side eye when Boscha went for the markers, but she soon relaxed when they were put to use nowhere close to her skin.

Their work was the shit. Boscha hadn't sat for hours in the library with only Willow for company -and her poorly hidden friends giving her the stink eye from behind a bookcase- just to barely scrape by. The class wouldn't know what hit them, and if they refused to admit their project's superiority she would make sure they did, even if it killed her.

Okay, so, the whole having to work with Willow ordeal hadn't gotten her killed. But by the Titan, the other groups' presentations surely would. It seems like they had Wiccapedia'd their topics and wrote everything down just as it came up. That wasn't even half-assing it. There wasn't a single crumb of ass in there at all.

But Willow was still jittering in her seat, nerves all over the place. Over what Boscha knew was going to be an obvious victory! She couldn't understand her.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Willow's hands fidgeting on her lap, just under the desk, out of sight for anyone else other than her seatmate.

The girl was fiddling with her cuffs with such haste Boscha thought her entire sleeve was going to unravel. The cloth had clearly gone through such treatment before, it had notable signs of wear on the edges as well as countless loose threads that she would pull without a thought. Boscha knew Willow was the best plants student in her year, if not the whole school. There was no way they got like that from a plant going rogue.

It was something clearly borne out of nerves, and the first minutes she barely even noticed it, but as their time to go forth got closer and closer the almost imperceptible sound it made started getting on Boscha's own nerves, making her restless too.

Without giving it much thought, she gripped Willow's hand on her own and held it down within a bit-too warm, bit-too strong grip.

"Uggghh, stay still! Our presentation is a thousand times better than whatever the fuck the last ones were, and the teacher loved it, somehow."

Before any of them could realize the strange situation their hands were in, as the trope tends to go, their names were called next and Willow, with the confidence of someone who definitely wasn't scared shitless of getting a low mark thankyouverymuch, went to the front with Boscha and gave an admirable presentation on the history of the regulations that protected rare species from being harvested and the conflicting loopholes some people had found. How exciting.

After all groups had given their presentations, they got their marks. That class was known for having a single-A policy. As in, of all the teams, only one would get an A, and the rest would get anything from B down. In spite of that strange rule, the class was still very hard to fail, as marks were mostly based on projects rather than classic exams.

A couple tense minutes later, their final marks appeared on top of their presentation's summary. The teacher had decided to give them that big, nice A, and even put a few words in, your classic 'Excellent!' and your not-so-classic 'Best team in ages. Literally'.

Ew.

But hey, an A is an A!

Willow practically melted in her seat when she saw the mark, and sighed in relief. Leaning back on her chair, Boscha smiled smugly. Another victory for the records. And leaf-girl had worried about not passing at all!

"Ha! See? Told ya." vaunted Boscha with a bit-too-strong backhand smack on Willow's shoulder that made the shorter girl jump, startled. It was meant in an almost friendly way, and for a moment, Boscha forgot they were anything but that. For that brief second everything was okay and they were almost like buddies and they didn't hate each other and-

The screaming bell cut off her thoughts, announcing it was time for lunch, and with forced confidence she stood up and sauntered away towards the cafeteria.

As soon as she reached her usual table, she slapped the marked summary down on it, face up of course, catching all her friend's eyes.

"My presentation was the best fucking thing that class has ever seen. They had no chance against us. Look at it and weep, slackers."

She then waved the proof of her academic superiority, kind of glossing over the fact that Willow's name was written next to hers in big, clear letters.

Details, details.

Skara took out her own summary, marked slightly lower as was custom, but still a good one, nonetheless. The topic her team had gotten had been quite easy though, and where there's not much at risk there's not much to win.

"Hey, we did well too! We even got the second highest grade."

Boscha raised a single eyebrow at the girl's A-less, inspirational-words-less work, "Yeah, no."

From a distance, she saw Willow roll her eyes at her attitude and then went back to her lunch. The slightest smile crept across Boscha's lips for a second before she realized she was in public and put on a hardened expression again. Idiotidiotidiot!

Parallel to that, a similar, yet quite different conversation was taking place at a table some meters away. Boscha, being the self-centered kinda person she was, guessed they would talk about that last class, and therefore about her. So to her, the only thing left to do was to snoop on them, witch style.

She saw the illusions twerp pat Willow's shoulder, in sympathy.

"Heard your group got That Law this year. My condolences." The human nodded solemnly, agreeing.

"I can't believe you got grouped with Boscha again. How did you put up with her? Give me your secret, girl."

Please, as if she would sabotage her own performance. She wasn't an idiot. Did all humans lack common sense or was that just a this human case? Before she could even get angry at that, Amity decided to give her input on it.

"You're definitely much better at that than me, and I've known her for far longer." No, she didn't actually know her that much, thought Boscha. Although she thought she did, once.

"It wasn't that bad. We got the A, so that part went great!"

Ha! So she was spreading the word of their triumph! Boscha couldn't say she expected Willow to be that kinda person, but she could empathize with the elation in sharing one's success.

"-But then she started showing off and it was so embarrassing."

What.

Embarrassing? For flaunting a well-earned victory? She didn't even need to beat anyone else for it, what was wrong in enjoying it?

"Typical, any win's good for her. She's been like that since forever."

What. The. Fu-

Willow let out a frustrated little huff while stabbing an escapist radish with her fork, almost without a thought, a little bit probably imagining Boscha's face on it

"Ugh. When will she grow up?"

Boscha could feel the table crack under her grip. Grow up? She didn't need to grow up! She was the epitome of power, of success, crafted from the cradle into the fully realized witch she was. She was proud; she wasn't ashamed of her strengths, of her achievements. If anyone needed to grow up, it was that damn half-a-witch! A powerhouse of magic, limitless potential, all stunted by her own inhibitions.

Boscha was fuming, although she couldn't distinguish the anger from the frustration. The words hurt more than she had expected. She reasoned it was probably due to the unexpectedness of them. A sharp pain twisted through her chest, and she cursed her new softened heart, and longed for the shielded safety of her past closed-off self.

Little pangs, attuned to her breathing, echoed in her chest as the girl's words did the same in her head. Her mind recalling them in perfect detail, down to the deceitfully soft voice.

When will she grow up?