A/N: Hope everyone in the US had a great Thanksgiving (and everyone not in the US had a good time anyway), and thanks for being so supportive of this story! NaNoWriMo is ending soon, but I think I've settled into a comfortable rhythm with this fic, so I can't promise I'll pick up the pace in December, although I hopefully won't slow it down any further! Enjoy this chapter, because it firmly wraps up the introductory arc of this fic.

Review Responses:

OfAllTheShizz, thanks, I'm glad you think so! Some canon characters are actually harder than OCs, to be honest, because you can't really get an OC's character wrong. Thanks for the support!

fanficlove2014, thanks, I'm glad you think so, and yes, Rei and Ayame are now hospital buddies. The answers to all your questions and more will be coming up soon, so don't worry! (And I'm really happy with how last chapter turned out with regards to Ayame, I really wanted to write her being awesome in that scene).

AmyNChan, yeah, Soul always is carrying the injured. I guess it's sort of his thing? Good catch with Spirit and Soul both being serious, and with Kid not liking what he has to do. Regarding Morgan and Cassie, I think this chapter might clear some stuff up. Writing the scene with Vayne and Kid and symmetry made me realize that Kid is probably the closest thing to a father figure Vayne has, which just made me a little sad for Vayne but hey, it was fun to write! Thanks again for the awesome reviews and sorry my review responses aren't quite on par with them!

kai-yuurei, I'm glad to hear you decided to give this one a chance, and glad you like it! I try to make OC-kids not carbon copies of their parents, although one particular character is giving me trouble with that (. I'm looking at you, Shelley M. Stein). Thanks for reading!

God of Crossover, yes he did. Ayame is very proud to say she fights like a girl lol.


CHAPTER TWELVE

I'll Shine For You


Rei sat up in bed the afternoon after the tournament finale, his back propped up against the headboard as he watched the dispensary window's curtains flutter in the wind. In the bed next to his, Ayame was still asleep, breathing softly while she slept off whatever it was Naigus had given her. A curtain divided the dispensary into two, put up to separate Rei and Ayame from Grayson and Richard. He hadn't heard a sound from that corner of the room since finally waking.

Across from him, his dad sat in a chair by the window, several official looking papers held down by a cup of coffee on the table next to him. His mom had apparently not slept for most of the night, and had gone home to rest as soon as Rei was awake, trading places with Soul, who had gotten a few hours of sleep in the staff lounge after the tournament finale. Rei wanted to tell him that he didn't need to be looked after, that he was feeling a lot better now, but a part of him liked having someone here, as guilty as he felt for worrying them like this.

"I guess I never really cared much," Rei said, keeping his voice soft for Ayame's sake as he looked past his dad and out the window. They had been talking for a little while, about the tournament, about school, about all sorts of things. "About all of this, I mean. Everyone's always expecting me to become you guys. It just ended up being kind of stressful, so I stopped really trying."

'Stopped' was an understatement, now that he thought about it. He thought he had been trying, but what he'd really been doing this past three months was coasting, doing just enough work to avoid embarrassing himself or Ayame without actually putting any work into it. It made him feel guilty now that he thought about that, and he dropped his gaze unconsciously.

"Yeah, I get that," said Soul, from where he was seated in his chair. He didn't look upset, despite Rei's admission, just thoughtful. And tired, Rei thought, although that was probably the lack of sleep. "I was like that as a kid, you know. My parents were always trying to push me into music, but I was never as good as your uncle, so, you know, I just stopped trying."

"But you were really into being at the DWMA," said Rei, feeling a little of the old misery creeping in even as he said the words. He wanted to pull his legs up close to his chest, but he still ached when he moved suddenly, so he didn't try it. "I'm not even sure I have that."

"The DWMA was just a way to get away from it all," said Soul, shrugging. "I was good at it. It was kind of fun. But I wouldn't say I was passionate about it or anything. To be honest, if nothing changed, I was probably going to end up half-assing my way through the DWMA too."

"What changed?" Rei asked, genuinely interested. He raised his head, looking up at his father, who looked away, turning his head so that he could look out the window and avoid Rei's eyes. Rei thought he might have been a little embarrassed, but he wasn't sure.

"…I found someone I wanted to be strong for," Soul finally said. "That made all of that stuff—all of this—finally mean something to me. The same thing might work for you." He shrugged. "But if it doesn't, no big deal. You don't have to stick around just because you think you have to follow in our footsteps or something like that. Find your own path. Something that you want to do."

Rei nodded, but he was only half-listening. His mind had wandered, fixating on Soul's first sentence.

Someone to be strong for…

His eyes moved over the hospital bed he was lying in, drifting to the table between his and Ayame's beds, where the pin she had retrieved for him rested. It sat on the corner of the table, catching the sunlight. He looked past it, his eyes landing on the neighboring bed, on the girl that lay on her side facing him, fast asleep.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Hmm?" asked Soul, looking back at him.

Rei smiled.

"I think I know what you mean."


"I can't believe we have to go to class today," Vayne said the day after the tournament ended, dropping into the seat next to Clark with an exhausted sigh. His meister simply shrugged, rubbing at his eyes from behind his glasses as he did his best to forward the video of Ayame's fight to her discreetly under the desk.

"The holiday was only supposed to last one day," he reminded Vayne. "We got two. I'd say that's more than fair."

Vayne said nothing, frowning as he settled into his seat and tried to pay attention to Marie-sensei, who was covering class for Maka because of a 'family emergency'. Like the whole class didn't know what that 'emergency' was. He opened his notebook because Rei would want the notes and homework from today, and tried to pay attention so that he could take notes, but it still felt a little surreal to him, everyone else in the class going on like nothing had happened.

Except they weren't, not really. Word of Ayame's match had spread through the school like wildfire, and people were still talking about it, the same way they still spread rumors about Richard and Grayson and about the condition Rei was in. If anything, the rumors were worse, because Vayne knew for a fact that Rei was sitting up and talking and feeling a lot better now, as did quite a few members of their class, but to hear the N.O.T. students go on about it, it was like he was barely clinging to life.

It bothered him, because didn't the N.O.T. class have anything better to do than sit around gossiping about the E.A.T. students, but he was self-aware enough to recognize that it was probably only bothering him because he was still mad about Rei. He wanted to hit Grayson, but Ayame had already taken care of that.

He tried to think of this class as normal, but it wasn't, because both Rei and Ayame were still absent, Morgan had called in sick and Cassie was sitting in the row behind him with a worried look on her face, not listening to music but not paying attention either. Vayne flipped his notebook to a blank page and scribbled down some notes, already thinking about how Rei totally owed him for this, because he didn't really give a damn about 'Factors that Influence the Human Soul' or whatever it was that today's lecture was on.

"I know what will cheer you up," said Clark, putting his phone away and picking up his own notebook.

"What?" asked Vayne, glancing at him.

"Grayson and Richard," said Clark, adjusting his glasses. "Rumor is that they were marched to the Death Room this morning. Shinigami-sama isn't happy. That's where Maka-sensei is right now, listening in."

Vayne scowled, looking back at the front where Marie was lecturing. Grayson and Richard's punishments had been a subject of gossip in the school for the past day and a half, and no one could agree on what they were going to be, but everyone agreed that they were going to be severe. He knew he shouldn't have been feeling happy about it.

But Clark was right. It did make him feel a little better.

He kept writing.


"Richard didn't want to do it," Rei said, staring off distractedly into the distance as Naigus finished checking on his injuries. "He tried to talk Grayson down."

"Regardless of how he felt about it, he still cooperated with the attack," said Kid, frowning at Rei from his seat by the window. "He could have refused."

"He could have, but I don't know," said Rei, still not looking at him. "I get the feeling he was just as scared of Grayson as I was."

Kid watched Rei for a moment, the early morning sun filtering in through the window behind him. Grayson and Richard would wake soon, and he would have to decide what to do about them by then. He thought he had decided, but now he wasn't entirely sure. "Speaking as a family friend, Rei," Kid said. "I'm not entirely sure either of them deserve your sympathy."

"Probably not," said Rei, shrugging. "I just…I don't know. I get the sense that Richard could make something out of himself—shape up a bit, if you could get him away from Grayson…"

Kid stood in the Death Room, Maka and Soul on either side of him as they watched Richard and Grayson being brought in, and found himself considering Rei's words. He had to be fair, he reminded himself. It didn't matter if he was a friend of the boy's family or not, he couldn't allow his anger to cloud his judgment. And he couldn't allow his sympathy to cloud his judgment either. Despite being, at least in part, a school, the DWMA was still a military organization, and this sort of behavior would not be tolerated. Bullying was one thing, but deliberately ambushing and assaulting a fellow DWMA member in the middle of the night? That was another thing entirely.

Grayson scowled up at him as Liz and Patty finally stopped. Richard, at least, had the decency to look ashamed. He stared down at the ground, not looking up. Maka and Soul bristled as they saw him, and Kid hoped that they would hold to their promise to observe only. He didn't want to have to ask either of them to leave.

"Grayson Knight," Kid said, trying (and not quite succeeding) to keep the anger out of his voice. "We have convincing evidence that you stalked and assaulted an unarmed DWMA student on the night of the Death Festival, engaged the student in a fight off-campus without the supervision of one of the teachers, and attacked them to the point of severe injury. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Grayson straightened up, fists clenched and raw fury in his eyes, but said nothing. Kid's eyes narrowed.

"Nothing?" he asked. "I'm sure you're aware what the penalty is for killing another DWMA member without cause."

That seemed to get to him, the color draining from his face. He didn't look away, but he didn't look quite as confident in himself as he stared at Kid. He didn't, Kid noticed, turn his eyes either to the right or to the left, where Soul and Maka continued to glare.

"Evans is alive," he said.

"Yes," Kid said. "No thanks to you. If he weren't, you and I would be having a very different conversation." He took in a breath, meeting Grayson's eyes. "I'm expelling you from the DWMA. You have twenty-four hours to vacate your apartment, after which I expect you to turn in your keys and leave."

Grayson's eyes widened. "You can't do that—," he began.

"I can," said Kid, interrupting him. "You're dismissed."

Grayson shot him a hateful look, but he turned, walking towards the door. "Richard," he barked as he passed.

Richard turned to follow, still not looking up.

"Not you, Richard," Kid said, stopping him. "I'm not finished with you."

Richard stopped moving, looking uncertainly between Kid and Grayson. Grayson muttered something foul under his breath, then turned to walk away, Liz breaking away from Patty to follow him out of the Death Room. Kid waited until the last of his footsteps had faded before looking back at Richard.

"A reliable source tells me you weren't completely willing."

Richard's eyes widened and then, like a drowning man seizing anything around him that could float, started to speak. "I wasn't," he said. "Honest. I didn't want to go that far. I just—I wanted to stop him, but Gray—."

Kid raised his hands, cutting him off. "Regardless of what your intentions were, you still ultimately cooperated," he said. "But a better person than you—," Maka's breath hitched slightly at those words, but she said nothing, continuing to watch, "—thinks there might be something in you worth salvaging. I'm demoting you to the N.O.T. class. You can take your things from your apartment and move them into the dormitories. You'll lose your E.A.T. privileges, and you'll have to find a new partner, but you can continue on at DWMA."

"I—." Richard stared at Kid, and then all the breath seemed to go out of him in a rush. "Thank you, Shinigami-sama."

"Don't thank me," said Kid, turning away. "I was planning on expelling you. You can move into the dorms now if you'd rather wait until your partner leaves to take your things."

Richard glanced behind him, looking down the long, guillotine-lined path that Grayson had vanished down. Some of the color drained from his face. "Yes," he said. "I think I'll do that. I—thank you again. I'm so—I'm sorry…"

"Go," said Kid as he turned around, not trusting himself to say anymore. Richard looked from Maka to Soul, still standing there stone-faced, then turned, practically scrambling out of the room.


Miss Potts' Tea Shop, located in one of the residential areas of Death City, was hardly a likely place for a clandestine meeting, but the owner of the shop was discreet and, because of the nature of the shop, there were a handful of private rooms that could be rented out for business like this. Angela waited in one of those, upstairs of the shop's main parlor, sipping at a cup of tea as she thought through her options and waited for her guest to arrive. She waited alone. Shelley guarded the door.

She wondered how much trouble she was going to get into for going behind Shinigami's back like this. The right thing to do would have been to inform him immediately of this development, but Angela was a firm believer in giving people a chance to come clean—it had worked for Mifune, after all—and besides, she was curious. There were too many missing pieces, too many things that didn't fit. If she acted and reported her suspicions to Shinigami or even to Kim, events would quickly spiral out of her control. She had no way of knowing if she would ever find the answers to her questions.

So instead, she waited, drumming her fingers on the tabletop out of impatience as she tried to gauge whether or not Miss Fay would actually show up.

Footsteps in the hallway, and then the door opened, admitting Angela's young guest. Shelley peeked in the room over the girl's head, meeting Angela's eyes. There was a silent reproach in them, a sign that Shelley really didn't like this, but she pulled back and closed the door behind her, leaving Angela alone with Morgan. She'd followed her instructions and come alone, Angela noted, looking around for any sign of the girl's partner. That was good. They were already off to a great start.

"Have a seat," said Angela, giving Morgan her best smile. "I have to say, I don't think I've ever had tea with royalty before."

Morgan tensed as she sat, freezing for a half-second as she looked up at Angela. The girl had always been pale, but she looked paler than usual today. She sat primly, ankles crossed, back straight, hands resting in her lap, but Angela still got the sense that she was getting ready to bolt.

"I don't know what you mean," Morgan said, her tone carefully measured.

"Morgan Fay," Angela asked, tapping the file folder on her desk. "Daughter of Morgana Le Fay, also known as Morgaine, also known as Loosepain, raven witch and half-sister of Arthur Pendragon. Yes, that Arthur." Angela cut her off with a hand before Morgan could speak. "Granddaughter of the Morrigan," she finished, frowning at Morgan. "I wasn't even aware the Morrigan had a granddaughter."

Morgan looked pained. "She…doesn't talk about me much," she said.

"She doesn't talk to anyone, it seems," said Angela, tapping Morgan's file, which contained all of the information the DWMA had on Morgana and the Morrigan, and all the information that the Witch Assembly had been willing to release. "Apparently, she's been somewhat of a recluse since her daughter's death. To be honest, I'm not sure I'd have noticed you if it wasn't for what you did last night. A transference spell, to get the video from the raven to your partner's phone? Your line specializes in Divination Magic, particularly when it comes to conflict, isn't that right?"

Morgan tensed further, her fingers curling inward. More than ever, Angela got the sense that she was fighting the urge to run.

"I'll be blunt, Morgan," Angela said, leaning forward. "I need to know why you're here. And there better be a very good reason why you've enrolled as a student while hiding yourself with a Soul Protect, otherwise the next person I talk to is going to be Shinigami."

Morgan stared at her, and then her composure broke, the fear in her eyes coming to the forefront as all of the color drained from her face. Suddenly, she didn't look quite as cold and distant as she had the other times Angela had seen her. She looked like what she was, a child.

"You can't," she said. "Please. You can't tell Shinigami-sama about me."

This went beyond simply just wanting to be a meister. Angela was sure of that. The days when witches would be killed just for setting foot inside the DWMA were well behind them. This wasn't like what had happened with Kim.

"Why not?" Angela asked. "What's wrong, Morgan?"

"She'll kill me," Morgan said, a slight quaver in her voice. "My grandmother. I barely managed to get away from her. If you tell Shinigami, he'll have to tell the Old Witch about me. And once she finds out, my grandmother will know."

Angela frowned at Morgan, feeling her heart starting to race with what the other girl was telling her. She had a feeling that she was just starting to stumble onto whatever it was Nerissa had been trying to warn her about, the thing that had bothered her since she and Shelley left the Witch Assembly a few weeks ago. Something about the Morrigan.

"Why would she kill you?" Angela asked. "What's going on, Morgan?"

"Because I escaped," Morgan said. "Because I defied her. Because I know—." She cut herself off suddenly and abruptly, lowering her eyes to her lap. All at once, she seemed to retreat back into herself, the quivering and shaking stopping as she drew in a breath and squared her shoulders, her eyes growing distant and cold again. "Please don't tell Shinigami-sama about me," she said, her voice soft now. "I promise, I won't cause any trouble. I couldn't live there anymore, though. Not with her. I couldn't stomach the things she did, the things she was trying to make me do."

Angela felt a shiver run down her spine as she stared at the girl. She knew there was a chance Morgan was lying to her, but she believed her. The Pull of Magic was still very much a factor with many of the witches, especially the older ones that didn't believe in the truce with the DWMA. Besides, she didn't think Morgan was cunning enough to fake the fear she felt from her.

Morgan looked like she was genuinely afraid for her life. And she was right. The minute Angela reported her to Shinigami, she knew that he would start composing his letter to the Old Witch. It was what the accords demanded, that any witches who wanted to attend DWMA needed approval from the both of them. And Shinigami would follow the rules. How could he do anything else? But it didn't sit right with her, that Morgan should be so scared.

"We could protect you," she said. "The DWMA, I mean. We have the resources to protect you, if your grandmother really is as evil as you say."

Morgan shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "She knows me," she said. "She'll find a way. Please."

Angela drew in a slow breath, aware that she was about to do something that Mifune would likely have said was one of her 'very bad ideas'. But she couldn't bring herself to tell Shinigami now.

In the interests of diplomacy…she said, although she knew that wasn't the only reason. I'm just…keeping the peace.

"Alright," Angela said. "I won't tell anyone. On one condition—," She lifted a finger, "—this meeting never happened. I can't be seen with you. I can't actively help you. If this gets out, and it will someday, no one can know that I knew about this and didn't say anything. Or it could mean big trouble for both the DWMA and the Assembly." The accords were tenuous enough without word getting out that one of the DWMA's go-betweens was actively breaking them.

Morgan let out a relieved breath, her shoulders slumping. "Thank you," she breathed. "That's fair." For a moment, Angela worried that she was going to cry, but then she straightened up and composed herself again. "I'm sorry for any trouble I've caused. I promise, I won't use magic again."

"You will," Angela said. It was a compulsion, and one that she actually understood. She might not be affected by the Pull of Magic the same way that other witches were, a side-effect of Kim giving her regular doses of Regeneration Magic when she was growing up, but she still felt the compulsion to use what she knew. Thinking about the Pull reminded her of something, though, and she frowned in concern. "Morgan, how old are you?"

Morgan hesitated before answering, looking down again. "Thirteen," she said. "Why?"

Thirteen. The age at which the Pull of Magic started to make itself known. At thirteen, Angela had spent entirely too much time running around the DWMA invisible and playing pranks (or hitting people in the head), but she knew that for most witches, the Pull wasn't nearly as mild. "That's…a difficult age," Angela said. She made a vague gesture. "How are you feeling?"

She didn't answer, her eyes on the table, on the cup of tea that she still hadn't touched.

"Are you having trouble with the Pull of Magic?" Angela asked, more directly.

"I—yes," Morgan said, nodding her head.

Angela sighed, reaching for her bag. Luckily, she had come prepared for this eventuality. "Alright," she said, drawing out a black cord that almost resembled a friendship bracelet. It pulsed in her hand as she handed it to Morgan, still infused with Kim's power. The other witch had made it for her when Angela was still in school, and Kim's missions were picking up to the point where she spent less and less time in Death City. The enchantments were weaker than they had been, but Kim's magic was still potent, and Angela hadn't needed it for a very long time.

"This might help," she said, motioning for Morgan's wrist, which the girl reluctantly handed to her. The moment Angela tied it on, Morgan relaxed visibly, some of the tension leaving her as she let out a little sigh. "It's infused with Regeneration Magic. It helps fight the Pull. It's not perfect, but if you can get through your teenage years, you should be alright. That's what worked on me."

"Thank you," Morgan said again, letting her hand drop back to her lap. She kept her eyes down, still refusing to look at Angela, as if she was ashamed of letting the other witch see the emotion in them.

"You can go," Angela said. "I can't hide you from your grandmother forever, though. You'll need to face her someday."

"I know," Morgan said, getting to her feet. "Someday, when I'm stronger. Just…I can't do that right now."

"Get stronger, then," Angela said. "That's what the DWMA is here for." She wished she could do more, she really did, but she couldn't be seen to help Morgan. It wouldn't help; it would only hurt. Even giving her the bracelet was doing a little too much, but it was better than having a destructive, Pull-crazed witch loose on campus.

Morgan nodded, inclining her head towards her, then turned to leave.

Angela looked up. "I almost forgot," she said, stopping her before she could reach the door. "You said that you escaped the Morrigan. That she was doing things you couldn't stomach. Is she a danger, Morgan? Is she planning something? You're probably the only one that knows."

Morgan looked over her shoulder at her, eyes widening in surprise, and then she looked back down at the ground, taking a breath. "I do know," she said, her words halting, like she was thinking through each one carefully before saying it. "But I…can't tell you. If you know the legends about my grandmother, you know that she's very sensitive to the discussion of war plans."

Oh…Angela thought, watching as Morgan turned to leave. Then realization dawned on her, the full meaning behind the girl's words becoming clear, and Angela's eyes widened, the floor seeming to drop out from under her.

Oh.


Ayame opened her eyes to find Rei already sitting up in bed, tapping away at his laptop. She blinked away the last few traces of sleep, rolling over onto her back and staring up at the ceiling.

"Okay, that's not fair," she said, her tongue feeling thick in her mouth.

"Hmm?" asked Rei, not looking up at her. "What's not?"

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and flashed him a smile, as she propped herself up on her elbows, scooting back so that she was almost sitting up. "Any morning where you wake up ahead of me means something's wrong with the world."

"Good morning to you too, Ayame," Rei said, although he was smiling back.

She took a slow breath, taking inventory of her senses. Her body still felt slow and sluggish, her bones aching where Grayson had punched her and there was a sharp pain in her side that didn't seem to want to go away, but she felt fine. Pretty good in fact, probably good enough to refuse the next time someone offered her any medicine. It dulled the pain, but it left her feeling slow and stupid. And sleepy, which probably explained how Rei was awake ahead of her.

Ayame stretched herself out, letting out a little hiss as her ribs complained, then swung her legs over the side of the bed, getting up.

Rei's eyes widened. "Hey!" he said. "You're not supposed to be up yet."

"Chill, worrywart," said Ayame. "I'm just going to the bathroom. I promise I wasn't even thinking of running off." Which was a lie, because she totally was, but she knew it would drive Rei insane, and while she might be ready to get out of bed, he definitely wasn't ready to get up and run around the school chasing after her.

She shuffled over to the adjacent bathroom, noting as she did that Grayson and Richard's beds were empty, finished with her business and splashed water over her face in the sink, the sharp cold chasing away the last remnants of her painkiller-induced sleep. By the time she made it back to her bed, she was feeling a lot like herself, and was awake enough to notice that the pile of cards and gifts from well-wishers that occupied the table between them had grown while she slept, now in serious danger of spilling over the side of the table.

She noticed a new brightly-colored card on Rei's side of the table, a child's scribble on the front of it. "Your sisters came by?" she asked, bracing her hand on the footboard and lowering herself slowly into a seat at the edge of the bed. Naigus might fuss, but she was tired of lying down, and at least she was still here. Rei frowned as he watched her, but didn't say anything about it, glancing at the card.

"Yeah," he said. "They were here this morning. They had to leave for school, though."

"I slept through that?" asked Ayame, looking up at the ceiling. "Man, I'm slipping."

"How are you feeling?" Rei asked.

She frowned, considering that. "Better," she said. "A little achy, but no big deal. I've had worse."

"Worse?" asked Rei. "When have you had worse?"

"Well, one time my parents went to go fight this dragon. Big scary thing, up on the top of this mountain—I think we were in like, Norway or somewhere—basically Skyrim. Anyway, my parents said I had to stay behind with Bright Star, but that sounded boring, and he was mostly toilet-trained by this point, so I—."

"—Never mind," said Rei, interrupting her with a pained look on his face. "I think I get the picture."

"How are you feeling, princess?" asked Ayame, swinging her legs back on top of the bed. Her ribs were really aching now, and suddenly lying down didn't sound so bad after all. Better than painkillers.

Rei scowled at the nickname but said nothing else about it, furiously tapping away at his laptop for a moment before looking back at her. "Better," he said. "Still feel like I've been hit by a truck."

You basically were, Ayame almost said, remembering Grayson's punches, but she held her tongue. Thinking about it still made her angry, and she didn't really want to dwell on it right now. Instead, she glanced back at the mountain of gifts spread between them, smiling at him.

"More from your fans?" she asked.

Rei blinked up at her, looking genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "Those are for you."

Ayame blinked, regarding the pile of gifts and get well cards again. The gifts were the usual hospital gifts—flowers, fruit, and candy, but the cards told a different story. Rei had a handful of them, mostly from members of their class, but he was right. The majority of them were addressed to Ayame, and they were from people she hadn't even met before, from people in the N.O.T. program and even a few from the senior E.A.T. classes.

"Looks like they saw your fight," Rei said, looking away from her. A faint blush spread slowly across his face. "There's a video going around the internet. I haven't see it, but Clark said it was awesome."

"There's a video going around?" Ayame asked. "Of me?"

"Yeah," Rei said. "A few people had their cameras out. Clark wanted to stop them from publishing it, said you might want your privacy, but I don't know. We kind of figured maybe you'd want people to see."

"A video," Ayame repeated. "Of me. Where I am being awesome."

"Yeah," Rei said, not looking at her now. "It's up on the school forum too."

Ayame blinked, and then she grinned, letting out a giggle in spite of herself and stamping her feet lightly on the bed. The giggle quickly turned into a pained 'ow' as her ribs protested, a dull ache spreading across her side and making her eyes water. She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a breath through her teeth, stretching out slowly.

"Don't hurt yourself," Rei said, his tone deadpan.

"You saw nothing," Ayame said when she could open her eyes again, glaring at him. She reached for one of the nearest packs of candy, a pack of round Halloween chocolates wrapped in foil that made them look like pumpkins and unwrapped one, considering it. "Besides," she said as she tossed it into the air and caught it in her mouth. "It's only right that they pay tribute to their queen."

"Sure, Ayame," said Rei, going back to his laptop. "Whatever you say."

She picked another chocolate up out of the bag, flicking it at him. It struck him in the side of the head and he tensed, placing his hand over the place it had hit as it rolled into a fold of his sheets, next to him. "What was that for?" he asked.

"Your share," Ayame said, looking back at the chocolates, "as my squire." Her face started heating up for a reason she couldn't name. The drugs, she told herself. Probably the drugs.

"Thanks," Rei muttered in a slightly sarcastic tone, picking up the chocolate. They said nothing for a moment, enjoying the silence and the sweets, Ayame tossing him a few more as she broke into some more of the gifts. This time, she made sure to toss them underhand so that they landed on the sheets instead of smacking Rei in the head.

It was only when they'd had about as much candy as they could stand and Ayame was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling and contemplating how far she could get if she climbed out the window now or, failing that, if she could bribe someone to go into their apartment and bring her some manga, that Rei spoke again.

"…Hey, Ayame?" he asked, and there was a hesitance in his tone, an uncertainty that was so at odds with the lightness of their banter earlier that she propped herself up on her arm to look at him, frowning as she lifted her head.

"Yeah?" she asked.

Rei wasn't looking at her. Instead, he was looking out the window, the sheets around him strewn with brightly colored Halloween candy wrappers. She wondered if he knew his ears were red and smiled, stifling a giggle as she decided she was going to keep that particular detail to herself.

"I was wondering," Rei said, still not looking at her. "After all of this…when we're both on our feet again…"

"Yeah…?" Ayame asked.

"Will you—uh—I mean—do you mind maybe…training with me?"

Ayame blinked at Rei, momentarily surprised. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but that hadn't been it. As she thought about it though, a smile slowly spread across her face.

"Yeah," she said, lying back down. "Of course."