He sighed, swiping his bangs from his eyes. She was always saying that he worried too much; that he needed to lighten up. But it was difficult when the lives of the team were on his shoulders, not to mention the fate of the entire world. He brandished his sword in front of the mirror, and couldn't help but wonder about his ancestor: had he ever felt as bogged down as Jay did? Had he ever felt the strains of being a leader, and just wanted to escape?
Did he ever have such awesome friends? He parried with the boy in the mirror, thoughts tumbling around his head. He felt as though there was a war going on inside of him. Half of him was trying to get him to lighten up, and another was forcing him to stay focussed. And yet another part of him told him to let his heart guide him.
But where? Where could his heart guide him that his leadership could not?
"Jay?"
The girl; Theresa: the fighter, the psychic, and a strong part of the team. He should have known. He should have stayed away; she was too much of a distraction. Anger raged inside of him, and he fought to keep it under control. It wasn't her fault, it was his. He was the one who always got them in danger.
"And it's you who always gets us out!" Her voice startled him.
He was about to protest, but he knew inside she spoke the truth. He allowed himself to accept it, knowing that to reject the truth is to reject good sense. A light feeling engulfed him, and as he turned and looked once more at the boy in the mirror, he saw something that wasn't there before: peace.
He whirled around to thank her, but she had moved on, her presence lingering in the faint smell of her raspberry perfume. He inhaled deeply, and suddenly he knew what he had to do.
Click.