A/N: Hiya. This next chapter got too long so I broke it up. Here's the first half. Enjoy.

INFLECTION POINT

6. Aftermath, Part 1

A few hours after the match that had become the hot topic of the day, Yuno finds himself sitting alone at the empty end of a communal table in the backmost corner of the dining hall. Hidden by a cluster of Golden Dawn knights seated at the communal table before him, he hunches over his dinner in the hopes of avoiding anyone and everyone he knows on a personal level, as he is a far cry from his typically calm, cool and collected self.

Still reeling from both the confirmation of last night's events and his embarrassing moral defeat, his mind is awash with scenes from the last twenty-four hours as he attempts to come to terms with all that had unexpectedly transpired. He had become so shaken that he had snapped at Bell and demanded to be left alone for the remainder of the night after her incessant attempts to "cheer him up" (which consisted mostly of badmouthing Noelle) had become too much for even him to handle. Fork in hand, he resolves to eat as quickly as possible and return to his room to properly process the day's—and last night's—events in the comfort of pure silence.

Yet, as luck would have it, he spots a familiar head of red hair in the distance, weaving through the packed dining hall in his direction. He hunches a little bit more over his meal to avoid detection, but to no avail.

"Hey!" Mimosa greets him in her typical chipper manner, likely perceiving his antisocial behavior as normal.

"Hey," he replies, shoving a forkful of steak in his mouth as she takes a seat across from him, and he finds himself even more pressed to clear his plate faster.

Mimosa begins to work on her own meal in silence, a mildly amused expression on her face as though there's a hot topic of interest sitting at the tip of her tongue just waiting to burst forth. As she opens her mouth to speak, Yuno feels himself grow weary in anticipation of what she's about to throw on the table.

"So…" she begins, a twinkle in her mirthful lime green eyes, "I heard you and Noelle got kind of crazy."

She is most certainly referring to the match, but Yuno immediately chokes on his mashed potatoes anyway, his mind going to a far less chaste place.

"Group A felt the hurricane from further up the mountain. The sky got dark and it started raining all of a sudden! It was kind of scary—are you okay?" Mimosa queries, eyeing him curiously as his coughing and sputtering finally ceases.

He guzzles down some water and sets the cup down gingerly after successfully dislodging the food from his windpipe. Mildly relieved at the confirmation of the context of her vague and potentially incriminating phrasing, he surmises that Noelle had refrained from sharing details of their "tryst" with her cousin.

"Yes," Yuno says as he clears his throat and resumes eating, making every effort to appear as normal as possible.

"Well, yes," he continues, gathering his bearings as he scoops up another forkful of mashed potatoes. "I suppose we got a little carried away."

It is visceral, the way his body immediately conjures an image of Noelle sitting atop his lap, hands twitching as they recall the sensation her soft rear in his grip, body warming as he recalls the way she had moaned into his mouth. This time, there is no one else's stupid phrasing to blame but his own. To add insult to injury, he is rendered even more dumbstruck that the scene that had come to mind was not some odd fantasy or dream, but a memory.

At this thought, Yuno forcibly shoves his loaded fork into his mouth, as if doing so would somehow save him from any further scrutiny from Mimosa. However, it is not the mashed potatoes that save him—it is her attention diverted by something or someone else. The momentary relief quickly dissipates, and feels dread take over as he watches the redhead turn, face brightening with a smile.

"Oh—there they are," she mutters more to herself than him, as she juts a hand into the air and waves. "Noelle! Asta! Over here!"

And again, at the sound of the two names in succession, Yuno feels anxiety begin to spread through his body, hands growing clammy, his eyes laser focused on his mashed potatoes as he continues to rapidly fork them into his mouth in an effort to hatch an escape from this impending dinner from hell. As he hears Asta's boisterous laughter grow closer, his dread reaches its height, and he is left glaring at his steak and mashed potatoes when he realizes that he has been bested by his own meal, and that he would now have no choice but to entertain the unwelcome company headed for his table. Steeling himself, he glances up momentarily to see his rival and the bratty royal standing by the table on Mimosa's side, then wills himself to calm down and assume his stoic exterior, taking in a subtle deep breath as Asta rounds the table to sit next to him.

"I heard about your match!" Asta beams as he takes his seat.

Yuno looks down at his food, tensing as he watches Noelle take a seat across from Asta and next to Mimosa in his periphery.

Once she is sat, he can feel her eyes boring holes into the side of his head.

"I mean, I saw part of it too, kind of," Asta continues, and all Yuno can do is continue to shovel his food into his mouth as he avoids the royal's gaze. A few bites in, and he finds himself wondering if she, too, was feeling as tense about the situation as he was.

"You guys made it rain all the way up the mountain! Man, that must've been crazy to watch. I'm mad I missed it!" Asta exclaims as he saws away at the thick steak on his plate.

"Mmhmm," Yuno hums through the food in his mouth, refusing to look in Noelle's direction.

"But, wait, who won again?" Asta inquires as he jams an inordinately huge cut of steak into his mouth.

Chewing through the food in his mouth, Yuno readies himself to reply, but is beaten to the chase.

"Well," Noelle begins, the very sound of her voice causing the hairs on his arms to stand on end, "it—"

"It was a draw," Yuno reflexively interrupts through a mouth half-full of mashed potatoes, and in an instant his eyes are on hers before he even registers that he has moved his head at all.

It is a mistake, he quickly realizes, as Noelle's cool and knowing magentas hold his gaze with no trouble at all. No, she did not seem nervous or anxious, and even seemed as though she was relishing in his anxiousness. Though he is momentarily taken aback at how unfazed and even arrogant she seems, he quickly acknowledges that he should have expected as much from her bold and completely inappropriate reference to their night together during the match.

He finds himself fully annoyed, amber eyes slightly narrowing as he stares on, irritable, yet somewhat excitable energy beginning to thrum through his body.

"On a technicality, though," Noelle shoots back smugly, snobbiness infusing every syllable, and he momentarily struggles to remember what they are even talking about. "We went outside of the time limit—I would've won otherwise."

Her gaze is unwavering, tone cocksure, and it all awakens a new kind of irritation, given that how she won was completely underhanded. His competitive nature awakened once more, the desire to put her in her place is at the forefront of his mind, taking its place far above any shyness at what had occurred between them.

Yuno swallows his food down and takes a sip of water, never once breaking eye contact.

"Not necessarily. At the time the match was supposed to end, we were still fighting, meaning it was fully a draw," Yuno insists, wondering if he is still at least appearing to be stoic, or if it is clear that Noelle is indeed getting a rise out of him.

"Well, you can ask anyone who was there," she replies calmly and cockily with a light laugh, apparently addressing Mimosa and Asta, though her eyes are still fixed on his. "Didn't look much like a draw."

She gives one small sassy shrug of her shoulder and it makes his blood boil—and he is confused that the way his temper flares is not completely owed to anger or annoyance.

"Well," Yuno begins darkly, troubled by how unperturbed she is at the intensity of his gaze, because he can feel himself glowering in a way that is usually intimidating to others. "Per the rules—"

"Wait!"

The interruption comes from Asta, muffled through the food he is simultaneously chewing, and the abrupt command finally breaks whatever trance Yuno and Noelle had fallen into.

"How did you even end up going past the time limit?" Asta inquires before gulping down his food.

The inquiry dredges up the feeling of her mouth at his ear, uttering the words that were apparently more damaging to him than any amount of royal or spirit magic could have been in that moment, and he finally gives in and tears his gaze from her, looking back down at his plate.

"I guess we were too high up and didn't hear Captain Yami," Yuno says curtly before taking more food onto his fork.

"I heard that Captain Yami just started the next match because they couldn't see you when it finally ended," Mimosa says with a chuckle. "You guys were probably moving way too fast."

For some reason, the word choice makes him sweat, and he finds his eyes wandering over to Noelle, who catches his eye and seems to have tensed up in the slightest as well, before she looks away.

"Wow," Asta swallows down his food, then clears his throat and looks back and forth between them. "You guys were really going that hard at it, huh?"

Yuno nearly chokes again at the odd phrasing, for it once more prompts the memory of her flushed face awash with desire and desperation hovering over his, her hips grinding on him, clothed heat rubbing up against him—but he is thankfully able to clear his throat just in the nick of time.

"I guess so," he hears Noelle say as he stabs his fork into another piece of steak.

He lifts it to his mouth, but his hand stops halfway when she says:

"And Yuno apparently couldn't handle it."

He reflexively grips his fork tighter before lifting it to his mouth, because she is so damn annoying and her words drip with implication, and internal panic bubbles as he turns his head slowly to find her magentas trained on his eyes, cocky and filled with challenge and knowing.

'You came first,' echoes in his mind and suddenly his tongue is lead, his venom wit momentarily nowhere to be found. But as he chews through his food, the satisfaction on her face is enough to push him to fight back.

The second he swallows, his mouth moves on its own, yet again.

"Yes well, I guess I wasn't expecting that level of enthusiasm from you," he says, voice warning and silky and low and he surprises even himself at how it sounds.

But he does not regret his tone, because her face twitches in response, and at that, his mouth acts purely on its own once more when he says:

"Rest assured, I'll be better prepared next time."

And now there is perhaps just a bit of regret because he finds himself tensing completely at the implication of a "part two" that he never intended to make. He watches her cheeks tint just the slightest pink, mouth folding into a slight frown as she looks down at her plate to gather some food onto her fork.

Despite the dangerous words, he cannot help but feel good about how irritated she now seems.

'I win.'

"You're gonna do it again?!" Asta barks excitedly through a mouth full of food, shattering the comforting momentary feeling of victory as he begins to sweat once more. "Well let me know so I can watch next time!"

Asta's words have Noelle choking on her food, her face now glowing a very noticeable pink. Despite his own discomfort, Yuno feels at least some measure of satisfaction at watching her finally lose her composure.

However, no longer willing to subject himself to this constant barrage of anxiety and intensity, he finally throws in the towel and rises to his feet, feeling everyone's eyes on him—the coughing Noelle included.

"It's been a day," Yuno says, making eye contact with everyone but her. "I'm gonna go rest. Excuse me."

He picks up his tray, climbs over the bench and heads over to the trash bin without looking back. Still, he manages to hear Asta say, "You really wore him out huh?" and what sounds like another coughing fit from the silver-haired royal as he walks away.

Feeling overwhelmed and exhausted from the events of the past twenty-four hours, Yuno dresses down to his boxers (his only packed pair of pajamas now out of commission thanks to last night's events), stows his grimoire away, and slumps into the armchair near his bed. Doing so only brings about memories of the last thing that he did in such a position, a shiver running up his spine as his body all on its own recalls the weight and warmth of the bratty royal that had straddled his lap in this very place less than a day ago.

He swallows, his memory coming back fuller and more vividly now that he is alone and no longer able to deny that everything he thought he had imagined had truly transpired. It all comes flooding back, but in a different context now—the feeling of her hands in his hair, her tongue hot on his, face flushed, half-lidded magentas pleading and alight with desire, silver pigtails splayed on his mattress, her warm flesh beneath his lips, her body writhing beneath his.

At the recollection he feels his body begin to warm, his blood beginning to rush south. The discomfort of the memories and his unwanted physical reaction to them have him jumping up onto his feet and marching towards his bag to take out Wizard Kings Past: A History of the First 25, Second Edition—his latest borrow from the Castle Town library.

With a clammy hand, he opens the thick volume over to the second chapter as he steps forward and cautiously takes a seat in the now tainted armchair. He clears his throat and very carefully leans back into the chair and begins to read—or more attempts to do so. After some time, a glance at the clock on the wall tells him that he has been stuck on the same paragraph for at least half an hour, needing to re-read each sentence, because every few words are interrupted by the thought of Noelle in some sort of compromising position.

Frustrated by his own lecherous and uncontrollable thoughts, he grits his teeth and sits up straight in an attempt to focus better. He all but glares down at the book in his lap as though it is an opponent, and takes a deep breath with every intent to read the hell out of it—

—until the sound of knuckles rapping against his door pulls him immediately from his short-lived moment of clarity. The familiar rhythm and force of the knock have him tensing up considerably, and he finds himself silently cursing the way his body had jumped alive, and how easily his attention had been swayed.

Then there is a pause. Holding onto the morsels of whatever dignity he has left after the past day, he bites his tongue and does not respond to the knock—though, he internally admits to himself that just one more knock would have him rising to his feet faster than he'd like to admit.

And so, Yuno continues to stare up at the door in anticipation. But, after a few beats, the silence persists, no follow up knock or voice heard.

He allows himself a few more seconds to stare at the door with what he refuses to admit is hope. Then, when nothing follows, he curses the strong and inexplicable sense of disappointment felt before he redirects his attention back to his book and attempts to read once more.

The vast field is bathed in a warm orange glow as the sun continues to set. He looks around to find himself alone in a familiar place—what he recognized to be the head of the plains at the southeast exit of the city, right outside of the Golden Dawn Headquarters. He then looks down at his own hands to find himself glowing as well—that familiar, bright Spirit Drive green blanketing his figure.

Unsure of why he has Spirit Drive activated, and why he is standing alone on this field, he turns around—

—only to immediately take a harsh blast of water to the chest, winded as he stumbles backwards, catching himself as he finds his footing and steadies his stance.

Regaining his composure, he looks up to find himself staring at Noelle Silva in her Valkyrie Armour, a familiar smirk on her face. She strides towards him casually, taking her time, and he finds himself glued in place, eyes roving up and down her figure, noting that there is not a single piece of clothing to be found beneath her Valkyrie Armour. At the realization, he feels the heat rise in his cheeks, feels his face shift to express his surprise, and watches her notice, her smirk widening.

At this, he wills his face back into its typical stoic state, refusing to wilt under her gaze. But then she splashes his face with water again with that cursed spiraling cone—this time, a small, almost playful spray as opposed to the initial punch to his chest—and he wonders why he hasn't yet tried to fight back. Even with full mobility, he finds himself incapable of summoning anything combative—though as she draws closer, he begins to walk backwards to maintain the distance between them.

She parts her lips to speak, and he is captive, despite the fact that he is continuing to distance himself from her physically.

"Who would've thought a stiff like you would be such a pervert?" Noelle queries playfully, voice low and silky.

At the accusatory dig, he feels his face warm as he narrows his eyes at her.

"I'm not the pervert," he scoffs—and he is stunned when she disappears for a moment, in the next beat appearing right in front of him, far too close for his liking.

Yet still, it has him halting his recession, feet now glued in place.

"No?" she asks coyly as she stares up at him, and though she is not at all touching him, he can feel himself tense up considerably.

"You don't like my outfit?" she asks, and he reflexively gives her another once over before catching himself and looking away to let out an exasperated "tsk".

She takes another step closer to him.

"You don't have an outfit," he murmurs, words coming out half-heartedly sarcastic, as though the observation of her nakedness beneath her armor is supposed to be some sort of insult.

Then he feels her hand press gently against his chest, and nearly gets whiplash from how quickly he turns his head to look down at her.

"You're right," she says quietly, standing on her toes and gripping the front of his wet robe and pulling him down towards her so that she is at his ear, breath hot on his skin, the sensation all at once discomfiting and familiar and welcome.

"Do you like it?" she whispers.

He lets out a shaky exhale at the sensation of her words and her breath at his ear, and he clenches his fists for fear of what his hands might do.

He remains silent and still for a moment, willing himself not to give in to whatever sick game she was playing.

"... aren't you cold?" he lets out with an airless, unimpressed laugh, somehow managing to muster his typical sarcasm despite the fact that his blood has begun to rapidly rush south.

Noelle lets her heels fall back onto the ground so that she is standing before him once more, and he can't help but take in the few places where her flesh is exposed. Though the armor is relatively conservative, his imagination and her odd behavior are enough to make the look into something extremely indecent in his mind.

And then her hand is gently pressed to his cheek, snapping him out of his charged reverie.

"Very," she murmurs coyly.

She slides her hand down the side of his jaw and back down to his chest and grips his robe again, this time roughly pulling him down towards her so they are nose at nose, and his restraint almost immediately disappears as he finds himself clenching his fists tightly at his sides once more.

He stares down at her, her magentas directed at his mouth, then back on his eyes as she leans forward just the slightest bit to brush the very tip of her nose against his.

"Will you warm me up?" she whispers, breath felt on his mouth, and he grits his teeth, his restraint long gone.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth and leans forward to—

—sit up right in his bed and stare straight at the door, breathing heavily as the scant light of dawn filters in through the curtains.

Wide eyed, Yuno slowly reclines back onto his bed to stare at the still-darkened ceiling, horrified at what he had just dreamt.