Soooo I was trying to have the POVs in zodiac order, but I got the twins ones the wrong way around, and then I put Hitsugi's and Uuma's the wrong way around too, but since the story flowed better in that order I decided 'oh screw it' and left it as it is. Also, the final lines of the fic are slightly different to the fic summary lines for similar reasons (the flow).

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this second part, and please do leave a review!

"And they all lived happily ever after….."

Sumihiko closed the book, and looked down at his son, sighing when he saw those wide dark eyes blinking innocently back up at him.

"Dear oh dear, you still want another story, don't you?"

His son gurgled and smiled beguilingly. Sumihiko sighed again. Remember this, he told himself. Remember it and savour it.

"Well, I can't say no to that, can I? Now, what book…?"

Sumihiko looked over at the bookshelf that held all of his son's picture books-most that he'd brought himself while out on missions-and contemplated them, before changing his mind. I might not get another chance to tell this story if I don't.

"Actually Kaito, I'll tell you a different story, a true one. How about that, hmm?"

Kaito smiled innocently at him, and Sumihiko felt his heart contract, and not because of his disease.

"Well…once upon a time, there was a boy. He was a little shorter and smaller than other boys, but that wouldn't usually be a problem. His mind was clear, and he had all the usual dreams boys had, of growing up and doing great and magnificent things. But his body was another story. He had a disease that made him weak and stole his life-days away from him, and though the doctors did not know what this disease was, or why the boy had it, they knew for sure that he would not grow up like other boys. That he would not live long enough to do great and magnificent things.

The boy's parents tried to hide it from him, so that he could at least be happy, but it was hard for them to hide the real reasons for all the hospital visits and doctor's appointments he had to go for. Besides, the boy was clever, he would have worked it out eventually. But perhaps if he hadn't been clever, he would have been happier, because this fact filled him with sorrow, and made him wonder-what was the point of life? He went through each day with a dull and heavy heart, caring for nothing, waiting only for the day his disease would kill him, just as the doctors said it would. Yet years went by, and though his body betrayed him in new and horrible ways-"

As if to illustrate, at that point, Sumihiko had to stop for breath, and he leaned forward, waiting for his strength to return. Once it did, he smiled apologetically at Kaito, and continued.

"And even though he remained sick, he did not die. And because of that, the days felt like years, and he became more tired of living. He was all too ready for death to come-and then, the evil teacher of his horrible school decided that this boy was useless, and consigned him to a special class for other useless children like him. Those children were…."

Sumihiko paused once again, not sure how to describe his former classmates. Delicate, traumatised Ryoka. The odd, otherworldly, earnest Rei. Sleepy but wise Tsugiyoshi, haughty but good-hearted Toshiko, the incorrigible delinquent twins Nagayuki and Takeyasu. Misaki, their warm and motherly Class Representative, and Eiji, that mysterious genius. The shy craftsman Yoshimi, the brash Michio, and the bright-eyed Kanae. They were all that, but more than that too.

"Those children were indeed unusual," he started again. "But they were not actually useless. And the kingdom thought so too, because it was these children who were given the mission to rid the kingdom of an evil monster who wanted to eat them all. He was a very fearsome monster, and difficult to defeat, but the boy and the other children banded together and after many adventures and trials, they defeated the monster and saved the kingdom. And you know what, in the process, the boy and the children became friends. And that changed something in the boy's heart. Suddenly, the days did not feel like years, and suddenly, his heart was light and cheerful. He had found a reason to live out what life-days he had, now he had fought and laughed and cried with these children. And though life pushed the children apart after that, the reason remained, and the boy defied his illness, pushed against it so that he could live. And gradually, he started to grow up.

"The boy started the process of becoming a man-he fell in love with a pretty girl, and later married her, and they had a beautiful baby boy together. The man got a job selling things to important people. Things that the doctors said wouldn't happen, started to happen. But the sickness that he'd had in the first place? It never went away, and though it seemed like he could push it away with his newfound resolve, in the end, he could not. The doctors told the boy-now a man, of course-that perhaps he'd live a few more years than he was supposed to, but it would kill him in the end. He might possibly be able to watch his baby grow into a little boy, but he would not be able to see that boy through to manhood. He would not be able to see his boy become a father himself.

The news was enough to send the man into despair, but he tried to be strong. He had a pretty wife and a baby to think about. He searched high and low for an answer or a cure, or both, but found none. And then one day, he found out about a special mission-a battle that happened in the kingdom every few years, between the best warriors in the world. This battle was special, because the winner would be granted a wish of their own. Absolutely any wish, no matter how big or small or seemingly impossible. And when the man heard about this, he knew that he had to go for this fight. To win and get his wish was the only chance he had. So he begged the makers of the fight to select him as one of the warriors for the next fight, which would take place in the next five years.

And luckily for him, they did. So he prepared himself, the best that he could, using all he'd learnt from both his jobs and the adventures he'd had so long ago. And when the day came, he kissed his pretty wife, hugged his little boy, and went off to the battle, ready to gain his wish."

Sumihiko glanced at Kaito, and noticed he was fast asleep. When the time comes, I hope you'll understand.

"Well, that's where it ends, unfortunately. I won't be able to tell you what becomes of the man for a few years yet. But I'll leave you to sleep now, son. "

Quietly, quickly, before he could let his emotions overtake him, Sumihiko got up, and left the room.

…

Yoshimi glanced at the clock on the wall opposite him, and decided it was finally time for a break. Grunting, he put the dumbbells down, got up, and crossed the empty gym to where his bag was. Sitting carefully on the bench-he didn't want to break it, after all-he unzipped his bag and pulled out his bottle, and took a long swig of his sports drink. Then, he looked down at his bag again.

Should I? Shouldn't I? It was always torture, reading the texts and seeing what was going on in their lives. On the other hand, it was a kind of torture to not have that idea, and he'd been avoiding their messages for days. Oh, who am I kidding? I know what I choose in the end, every time. Yoshimi bent down and dug around until his hands closed around the phone, and he pulled it out, unlocking the screen and staring down at the messages.

It seemed to be Misaki, Kanae, Tsugiyoshi and the twins who were dominating the chat the most. Michio had said things here and there, as had Sumihiko and Toshiko. Eiji's contributions were rarer, but at least they were there. Only Rei and Ryoka never replied, and between cults and family demons, they at least had an excuse. He didn't even have that, but yet he too never replied.

He scrolled through, chuckling quietly at memes, jokes and random work anecdotes; admiring the photos of Misaki's bakes, Eiji's restaurant photographs and Michio's sister's school play; observing all the random little small talk the conversation was made up of. He could imagine their voices in their head, as if this were a conversation they were all having in real time, with each other.

As if this were back then.

As Yoshimi thought back to those better times, a couple of new messages popped up on the chat. Scrolling back down, he read them. It was Misaki, asking once again to organise a reunion, with a list of suggested dates. Kanae had been the first to reply, mostly with a string of emojis that indicated excitement, but then with a selected date that worked for her. Yoshimi stared at it.

How many years has it been since I last saw any of them in person? And how long ago since that year we were all together. The answer to both of those questions was 'too long', and some of that was his fault, he knew. But, I can't show myself to them like this, incomplete and inadequate as I am. Yoshimi kept watching as a few other messages turned up.

Michio Tsukui: If I can get someone to cover me at the day-care, then sure, I'm up for that
Tsugiyoshi Sumino: Sure, not got anything better to do.
Kanae Aira: YESSSSS =D When was the last time you came anyway?!
Tsugiyoshi Sumino: I always come.
Kanae Aira: I know that you cheesebrain, I was talking to Tsucchi!
Tsugiyoshi Sumino: Oh.
Nagayuki Tsumita: Unfortunately, we're out of the country on all those days. Whatcha gonna do this reunion though? We'll send you some fancy wine or whatever.
Misaki Yuki: Oh, that's a shame, Nagayuki-kun. Tsukui-kun, no pressure if you can't, hopefully you'll be able to make it to the next thing. The others, hooray! I'm so glad. Hopefully the others'll be free, but we'll have to wait until they see this :)
Kanae Aira: HURRY UP GUYSSSS! We gotta get this party rolling!

Yoshimi chuckled at Kanae's messages, despite himself. She really hadn't changed that much since their middle school days. Or rather, she hadn't changed much once she'd made improvements over the course of that year. Misaki hadn't changed that much either, and neither had Tsugiyoshi-both were still motherly and sleepy, respectively. At least, as far as he could tell from these messages. If he were to see the, he would know for sure, how much they'd changed, how much they had not.

"I can't, though." He murmured to himself, though nobody else was there to hear him. "I'm still weak."

That day, the day they'd finally killed Koro-sensei, it was quite literally carved into him. In the end, they'd all survived it, but the fact he'd been defeated so easily and had not been able to protect them from any harm at all. Even if he had wanted to forgive himself for that, the scar on his stomach would never let him rest. And that was why he had drawn back, to make himself strong enough so that he'd never scar again. So that he would be able to protect them all the next time they saw each other.

Suddenly, another message popped up.

Toshiko Ino: Maybe I'll turn up too. Not like I've got anything better to do that day anyway.

Yoshimi's heart stopped for a moment. Toshiko-san….He'd been smitten with her even before they'd ended up in 3E together, but until that moment she hadn't even known he existed, he was sure of that. Still, he was sure that from 3E onwards they'd understood each other, perhaps even become something akin to friends, something a little more than that, especially after that one night just before they'd graduated high school. He was under no illusion that she'd been in love with him-the different boyfriends she'd flaunted on this chat over the years were testament to that-but even so. I want to be known, she had said that night as the explanation for turning up on his doorstep. That had to mean something.

Staring at the message, Yoshimi realised that Toshiko had changed her profile picture. It was another photograph of herself, that much he could tell (and even if he hadn't been able to tell, it would have been obvious considering that she was the only one who ever used her own photographs as profile pictures), so curious, he tapped on it. This one was a side profile picture, though she was still looking directly at the camera, a familiar slightly-taunting smile tugging at her lips. Her hair was all gathered up in a fancy up-do. But the main thing Yoshimi zoned in on were the earrings, white and hand-made, carved to look like boars' tusks. The earrings he had made and sent to her for her last birthday.

She wears them. She wears them….

And just as he was processing that, a message from a separate chat came in. Tapping out of Toshiko's profile picture, he went to it and discovered it was a message from Eiji.

Hello, Soma-kun. I hope this reaches you well. Have you seen Yuki-san's message about another reunion? It read. Will you be coming?

Sadly, Yoshimi hung his head. No, I can't. Yet, perhaps he could. After all, it was clear he was still loved, wasn't it? Between Toshiko's earrings and Eiji's direct message, it would be silly for him to conclude anything else. If they had ever been disappointed in him, they'd forgiven him a long, long time ago.

But I swore it. That the next time I saw them, I would be strong enough to protect them. If I caved now, I would be breaking that promise. And I wouldn't be worthy of seeing them. There's no real contest. I know what the answer will be, every time.

So resolutely, Yoshimi locked his phone, put it back in his bag, zipped it up and stashed it under the bench, before returning to his workout with extra determination. But despite that, his heart still felt heavy.

…

Misaki closed the oven door, adjusted the temperature, then looked up at the clock. Hmm, what should I do now? Dinner, or…no, there's still time. Maybe some TV, and then I'll get started on dinner so it'll be done by the time Rin gets back. Pleased with that decision, Misaki left the kitchen area and went over to the living room area, flopping on the settee, picking up the remote and turning the television on.

She didn't really have any programme in mind-she'd been away for so long, she didn't really have any idea of what TV series were currently running. If she saw something resembling a cooking programme, she'd probably stick to that channel, but in the meantime she was content with some random, aimless channel-surfing. I wouldn't change my job for the world, but sometimes it's nice to have this lazy sort of downtime-oh? What's that?

Recognising the name of a nation she'd helped, Misaki paused at the channel. BREAKING NEWS, a banner across the top of the screen proclaimed. The image shown underneath…

…it was one of carnage.

What? How? No, it wasn't meant to be like this. My plan was supposed to stop their conflict, not start a new one….

Misaki couldn't look, but she couldn't look away. She wanted to understand how this could have happened, but she wasn't taking any of it in. All she could see was that yet another time, she had tried to save something and had ended up destroying. And this time, it was hitting harder. Even trying to remind herself of all the nations and people she had saved-as Rin had advised her from time to time-was not working.

I broke the promise.

With a sob, Misaki drew her knees to her chest and curled up. After a moment, she momentarily unfurled to turn the TV off, then returned to curling up on the sofa. That promise she had made all those years ago, it was the entire reason she'd taken the path that would lead her to become a peace negotiator. One killing was enough, but it was too much in the first place. She hadn't really thought of just how strongly she'd felt about the entire thing, not until she'd actually killed Koro-sensei, and possibly those other enemies as well.

How? How can I fix this?I've killed, when I said I never would. Even if I could never have predicted that it would turn out like this…

Gradually, naturally, Misaki's tears dried up, but the hollow, defeated feeling remained. And then, she heard a letter come through the door.

Oh, she wondered despite herself, this is an unusual time for a letter to arrive, isn't it? I should go and see what it is. She straightened out, and got up, plodding wearily over to the front door and looking down. There was a single envelope, and to her surprise it was deep red, and looked to be made from thick card. Bending down, she picked it up and realised it was addressed to her. There was a blurry golden wax seal in the corner of the envelope, and she squinted at it. Juu…ni…Taisen? What's that? No, wait, I know what that is. But could it be?

From what she knew of this so-called 'Juuni Taisen', she was sure this had to be a mistake, because this was not the type of thing that would interest her, no matter how great the reward of a single wish was. But something compelled her to open it, and seeing her name at the top of the letter inside it didn't make that seem very likely. Sitting down cross-legged in the doorway, she quietly read the letter, absorbing the contents and all the revelations it came with, memorising the venue and the start date (which was a few years away), and then slowly, put it down.

There was a part of her that still thought it had to be a mistake, because she was not a warrior in the sense that this war sought. But, it was a war, one whose zone she'd never visited. Perhaps I can make a new promise, she thought. A promise to end this war, as atonement for all the killing I've done. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that this was the best idea.

"Now," she said to herself as she did so. "I just need to think of my strategy."

…

Ryoka could have stayed in the hot spring forever, but she knew she couldn't. So it was with a heavy heart that she made sure her towel was wrapped around her as she left it and went back to the changing room. Shrugging on a towel gown, she reached up and undid the towel that had shielded her hair from the water. Most other women simply tied it up into a bun atop their head or something, but hers was not quite long enough for that. Long hair's impractical anyway, though I wouldn't want it short like a boy's. Then again, boys don't always have super-short hair…wait, why am I thinking of hair anyway?

Ryoka let out an irritated huff, then looked around her. She was alone here, as she knew she'd be-this particular hot spring was essentially a hidden gem, not many knew of it. And it was the best of the best, as she knew well from her lifelong obsession with hot springs. Starting as something she viewed as a luxury, eventually it had become a part of her daily life, a place to decompress after yet another mission.

And yet, I can't truly enjoy it. Not while each and every time, I know I have to go back there.

Every single day, Ryoka cursed the decisions that had led here to this point. It was like she'd jumped from the frying pan of her evil parents' old friends into the fire of her controlling distant relatives. Just like how as a teenager, she'd jumped from the frying pan of parental abuse into the fire of being an orphaned girl with blank spots in her memory and a whole lot of emotional damage-that fire, I never really escaped-not to mention the black cloud hanging over her as a suspected murderer. Even after the investigations had proved that though she'd attacked them, they had actually killed each other in a drugged rage, it had hung over her. Which was why she'd ended up in the frying pan of those wannabe big shots (as she'd remembered the twins putting it, that time they'd rescued her) who swore revenge against her parents' murderer, never mind that she was their daughter.

All she'd ever wanted was a way out, to distance herself from it all and find herself again. Or rather, find herself for the first time, because she'd never really had much of an identity before her parents' death. That year in 3E, which was supposed to have been a punishment, had shown promise of being the thing that would be the way out. Sure, they'd had to kill a weird, possibly intergalactic, creature. But the laughter and inclusion and studying-for the first time, she'd learnt what normal was. And she'd actually been able to believe that normal was for her. She'd aimed for high school, thought about what career paths she could take that'd involve birds or hot springs or at least something that was mundane but still fulfilling. She'd believed, and then she'd gone on the run, and everything had disappeared.

And now, I'm here.

And now that she was here, she was even more trapped. She'd thought being aligned with powerful relatives would keep the others off of her back, and that she'd be able to exist in a normal world again. She'd been making plans to resume her high school education via adult learning programmes or something, to actually attend one of those reunions she knew Misaki was always trying to organise, to just see all those friends of hers again in one way or another (those brief moments when they got her out of bad spots for a night or two were not reunions, not by any means). If she'd known they were powerful political figures with a taste for war, she would not have even approached them. But she had, and now she was stuck, with no freedom. All she had were her memories.

The towel now undone and her chin length hair freed, Ryoka sighed and ran her fingers through it absently, before turning next to her and rummaging in her make-up bag for her comb, hairgrips and hairbands, and starting to comb her hair.

"Hmmm, actually, what if we did….."

Kanae held up the small section of hair that she'd just plaited, and attempted to wrap it around Ryoka's head. Following the motion of her hands, Ryoka silently sat there, not sure what comment to offer.

"Oh, I see what you're getting at, but rather than around like that, what about we redo the plait and-" Misaki came around to crouch in front of Ryoka, and took over from Kanae.

"That tickles." Ryoka said as Misaki fiddled with sections of hair behind her ear, undoing and redoing the plait swiftly.

"Sorry, sorry," Misaki said smiling at Ryoka. "This shouldn't take too long…let's see."

"What are you even doing, Yuki?" Toshiko asked.

"You'll see…ah, there we are. Ino-san, pass me the mirror."

Misaki reached over Ryoka's shoulder to grab the mirror, and then she held it in her hands, level with Ryoka's face.

"Niiice. Watcha think, Ryo?"

Ryoka didn't answer Kanae, instead studying her hair. It was still mostly down, with that distinctive kink to it, but now instead of looking wild, it was combed neatly. One side of her fringe had been incorporated into a tight French plait that framed that side of her face, disappearing behind her ear and keeping the rest of her hair on that side out of her face. The fringe on the other side had been left unstyled, but it was combed in such a way that though it covered that side of her forehead, it wasn't likely to fall in her eyes.

"What about this side?" Ryoka touched the unstyled side of her fringe.

"Do you want it plaited?" Misaki asked.

"I think it looks better like this-it's neat, but slightly quirky. " Kanae pronounced.

"Yes, I have to agree," Toshiko said haughtily. "It would look too fussy if we did both sides, and simple styles suit your face better. I think this fits that bill."

Ryoka considered all this as she looked at her reflection. She tilted her head this way and that, considering it at different angles. And then, she looked straight at Misaki, and at Kanae and Toshiko in the reflection of the mirror, and made her pronouncement.

"I like it."

As her fingers deftly weaved the plait, Ryoka felt a few silent tears leak out of her eyes, travel down her face and plop down onto her lap. How she wished she could go back to those days, see all of them again. Even Usagi, with his hair obscuring his eyes and his weird manner. Even the intimidatingly intelligent Eiji. Even the scrappy, growly Michio. All of them. If she could see them one last time before she died, she'd be happy.

But that doesn't seem like it will ever happen. Not with this situation I'm in. Once again, Ryoka was filled with the yearning to have this moment in this place never end, so that she would not have go back to what was awaiting her. Not just the general situation she was trapped in, but the tournament she was being sent on. That life or death one, where warriors battled for a wish. It was not for a couple of years yet, but already she was being trained for it, though there was no point. She was no warrior, she was useless to the ones sending her beyond being their lackey, and she didn't even have a wish that made it all worth it.

Or do I?

Ryoka finished her hair, and quickly started to dress, but the realisation was making her head spin. Wanting to see everyone again, just wanting to be normal. Wanting my freedom. That's a wish, isn't it? And what was it they said about it-that any wish could be granted. Any wish at all, no matter how big, small, expensive or silly. So maybe I could….the sheer possibility of there being hope threatened to overwhelm her, but as she'd gotten used to doing, she squashed that hope flat.

"Or maybe," she scolded herself as she scooped up her bag and left the room. "I'm just jumping into another frying pan, again."

But either way. It's not like I have a choice.

…

"It's Tsukui."

"Oh? No good afternoons?"

"Tch. I'm with Emi," Michio did his best to keep his voice to a whisper as he juggled the sleeping toddler, two full-to-bursting shopping bags and the mobile phone. "We've just come home from the hospital."

"And how is dear Mayuri-Chan?"

Don't say her name like that, you slime, she's still in middle school. But sliminess aside, the guy meant well, and Michio had to answer him anyway, so he just sighed.

"There's not much of a change. "

"So the fucking doctors haven't found a cure."

"No, they most certainly have not. They're trying though, to give them credit…." Michio sighed.

Really, he wasn't sure if they deserved credit. Maybe the nurses and people, who tried to keep Mayuri comfortable, who talked to her and kept her company whenever he wasn't able to visit, the ones who slipped treats into Emi's hands and cash into his pocket so he could make the rent. They were powerless, really, and those small things made a difference. But the big shots, the doctors with all their fancy equipment and words, who puffed themselves up with status but didn't do anything? They deserved nothing.

"Hello?"

"Yes, I'm still here dude." Michio snapped irritably, before tensing and turning his head to check on Emi. She was still asleep, face peaceful as her head snuggled against his shoulder.

"Right, right. What I was going to say is, you're really in need of a miracle, huh?"

"You don't think I know that?"

But there's no such thing as miracles. If there was, then Yagi would have been cured the moment he married into the Tsujie family and had that cute kid of his. If there were miracles, then those of us who're in complete pickles right now wouldn't be. I just gotta survive through each day and do what I am actually able to do with my own hands…

…and that's why I'm mixed with you in the first place, Michio silently told the person he was on the phone with. Because there is no such goddamn thing as miracles.

"Sure, sure, I know that. But what I don't get is, you've got the opportunity for a miracle right in front of you."

"I already told you, I can't."

"What, cos of the kid and Mayuri-Chan? I told you, we'd make sure they were provided for and all in the slim event you lost this thing-which you wouldn't, by the way. You're the Mad Dog, are you not?"

Yes, I am. But Mayuri isn't like that, and I don't want Emi to grow up like that. I got into this life in the first place so they wouldn't have to consider such things.

"So what if I am? The Clan of the Dog has better fighters, don't they?"

"But none with your ability."

"The stakes are too high."

The same old, same old.

"And so you've said. But I could argue that the stakes are too high for you to just toss up this opportunity."

Huh. That's a new one.

Before Michio could formulate a response, he heard soft snufflings, and then.

"Papa?"

"Emi's woken up, I'll talk to you later."

Quickly, he hung up, snapped the phone shut and shoved it away, and then attended to his daughter. But not before the person he had been talking to said one more thing:

"This isn't over."

…

My, for a place so derelict, it's absolutely pristine here.

This is what Toshiko thought as she approached the building and strode through its fancy glass doors. But even as it was something worth noting, it was not that much of a surprise for her. After all, until very recently, the city hadn't been derelict at all-it had been just like any other city, bright and busy, buzzing with life. It had been wiped out by the organisers of the Juuni Taisen just so that it could be used as the venue for this year's tournament. Just like that.

Such is the power of the Juuni Taisen, Toshiko thought with some pleasure as she scanned the foyer and made for the stairs. The building, she knew from the invitation, was 150 floors high, and though there were lifts, she was no fool. So, the stairs it was.

It's no hardship for me though. I got in plenty of practise for this back with Father's school system, which was meant to be my so called punishment. And look at me now! Her efforts to get herself into the Juuni Taisen had been long and hard, taking twelve long years-Oh, hey, exactly how long it's been since the year of 3E-and now her little sister, who had been the first pick, would not even be anybody's last pick for a battle. Kiyoko was now completely incapable of fighting, her mind simple and childlike, her movements ungainly with stupidity, and all she was good for was spending days in a drugged haze watching TV and doing art therapy. There was no way she was fit for something as important as the Juuni Taisen.

And honestly, she's safer that way. It was a weak, sentimental thought, but if there was one thing she'd learnt from 3E that she was able to take to battlefields was that having such thoughts weren't weak in themselves. It was just a case of making sure you were alone and safe enough to indulge in them, or at the very least find a way of turning that weakness into a strength. Just as she'd used her concern about her sister to reclaim her place in this tournament for herself. Anyway, I'm alone here, but not necessarily safe. I'll shunt that aside now….

With a perfect, elegant toss of her meticulously styled hair, Toshiko pushed aside her weak, sentimental thoughts and thought about her battle strategy. Winning, of course, was what she was aiming for, and she didn't have too many concerns in that respect. The main thing was to win with elegance and poise, as befitting her name and status. But how exactly to do that would depend of course on the rules of the game and the specific opponents she faced, and she wouldn't know that until she got there. She had tried to do some research on her possible opponents, but even by the Juuni Taisen standards, the information seemed shrouded in utter secrecy. Not a single clan had made a public claim, and there hadn't even been lists of possibilities from the clans, either. The most she'd been able to find was the faintest of faintest rumours that this year's Warrior of the Ox would be none other than Eiji Kashii, known as the Genius or The Natural Born Slayer. The same Eiji she'd once been classmates with. Despite the fact he had once been a child soldier, Toshiko knew that this sort of tournament would not be his thing at all, so she was tempted to dismiss those rumours as nothing but.

Then again, I assumed the rumours of Kashii-kun being in 3E were little more than rumours, but then what happened when I walked into 3E's classroom on the first day? He was there, cool as you like. Toshiko chuckled at the memory, but quickly grew serious. Dismissing the rumours out of hand would be dangerous, so she had to think of what to do if he was there. It would change nothing for her-she wasn't about to give up victory because of sentimentality. On the other hand, there was more than that at stake. She would lose as much face refusing to honour their connection as if she won this thing with sweat and indignity.

Though having someone with his skill level partner with me would be beneficial, in the long run that could end up weakening me. Perhaps I could approach him and suggest we go our own way but concentrate on taking out the other ten first, and then having a fair, one-on-one fight afterwards.

Ascending yet another flight of stairs, Toshiko lost herself in the fine details of planning for this eventuality, and so she almost missed the sound of the lift of that floor dinging and the heavy footsteps. Must be another participant, she thought, even as she spun around, ready to confront and fight them if need be.

"Toshiko-san...no, I mean, Ino-san?"

Toshiko stopped short, floored by the familiar voice. Yoshimi? But no…The man standing in front of her looked nothing like the lean, slender Yoshimi she remembered from that year, and for a few years after that before he'd apparently become a hermit or something. This man had a similar height, sure, but he was humungous, muscles everywhere, facial features broad if well-defined. To Toshiko, this man seemed something like a cross between a gargoyle and a sumo wrestler. But the voice was the same, exactly the same.

"Yoshimi." She stated, not sure if she was asking or stating. Subconsciously, she touched her earrings. Yoshimi.

"Oh."

The relief on his face clinched it for her-though the features making the expression were so different, she would recognise that particular facial expression anywhere. Memories flooded her, and she did her best to shove them in the corner. Sure, inside her head she was alone with the thoughts, but she was not safe with them. If I keep thinking like this, I'll be undone before we even begin.

"Oh." Yoshimi repeated. "You do recognise me. That's good."

"Yes, well…" Toshiko found herself lost for words, and wondered why. "Let's keep walking."

"So….you're a participant too, huh? From your surname, I'm guessing you are the Warrior of the Boar?" Yoshimi asked, wistfully as they did so.

"Why else would I be here? And yes, I am. Who are you meant to be?"

"Horse. And, I didn't mean it like that…" Yoshimi stuttered. "I…just…I don't think I'd be able to kill you."

"Then why are you here?"

The question came out harsher than Toshiko had intended it, and she instantly regretted it. So what if we were comrades once? So what if I might have loved you once? The Juuni Taisen is the Juuni Taisen, I've been fighting for this chance since before meeting you or any of them. That entitles you to a fair fight, like I was thinking of approaching Kashii-kun for. But…

When Yoshimi didn't answer, Toshiko huffed.

"So? Where've you been hiding all these years to get yourself looking like that?" She asked him.

"Getting stronger." Came the simple answer.

"Riiight….." Toshiko looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "For the Juuni Taisen?"

"For you." When Toshiko raised her eyebrow even further, Yoshimi squirmed. "Not just you, specifically, but all our classmates. I didn't expect any of you would be here."

"I see. Well, it's not like I expected you to be here either."

"Hmmm. You know, Ino-sa-"

"Toshiko." She interrupted harshly. "You're really going to go back to formality after everything?"

"Oh, right, then…Toshiko-san?"

"Yes, what is it?"

Pretend to not care. Pretend to not care.

"I….I missed you."

Toshiko could not respond, and for a moment, she pretended she was ignoring him. If you missed me, then you shouldn't have hidden yourself away for whatever reason you decided to. You should have actually come to see us. You should have kept in touch. Don't come to me with such weak-spined confessions. Toshiko sighed, trying to dispel her anger.

"Yes, well…." I might as well, soon enough it won't matter. "I did, too."

The hope in Yoshimi's eyes when she said this was too much for her, so quickly, she sought to shut it down.

"In any case, given our history, I propose we focus on quashing the others, then have a fair fight, one on one on one."

"One on one on one?" Yoshimi echoed.

"You're aware that Kashii-kun is most likely this year's warrior of the Ox?" she asked.

"…I heard something like that, but I didn't believe it. He's always been trying to leave the warrior life, hasn't he?"

Toshiko could have face palmed.

"You do realise this is the Juuni Taisen?"

"Right…." To her relief, it did look like Yoshimi got it, so she didn't have to mentally bang her head on the wall any longer.

"So, a fair fight at the end. It's the best that can be done, in the circumstances."

And when I win, I'll make sure you are both remembered. I'll let you be buried with the greatest of the greatest, you will have the best memorials. I will hire people specifically to take care of your graves and perform the appropriate rites on anniversaries. I will visit you, and remember you, and mourn secretly. But that is all. There is no real way for me to turn our past into a strength, here it will always be a weakness. This is the best that I can do.

I'm sorry.

Yoshimi absorbed her offer with little more than a silent nod. His eyes looked troubled, but he didn't question it, or process it. As soft as he was, he was smart, and though Toshiko was sure that in the end he'd probably try to let her (or Eiji, or maybe both of them) win, no matter what it was he'd decided to fight for in the first place. She did not ask, and tried her best to not look like she wanted to ask, and instead just carried on striding up the stairs, letting Yoshimi follow her.

They remained in silence as they reached the top floor, and Toshiko led the way to the huge double doors she knew led to the meeting spot, when the lift pinged. Another warrior. Instantly, Toshiko turned around, ready to be imperious and formidable, to intimidate them with her dignity, when the doors opened, and an all too familiar figure stepped out, recognising them immediately and beaming.

"Ino-san, Soma-san! How are you?"

Oh, great, it's you. Toshiko rolled her eyes at Misaki's cheerfulness. Are you not even aware of the situation?

"I'm fine, thank you, Yuki-san, under the circumstances…" Yoshimi responded.

"Oh, that's good to hear! Where've you been all this time, you never come to reunions or see any of us….we would have to end up meeting here in all places, wouldn't we? Oh well, I suppose that gives me more motivation for my plan."

Plan? Toshiko studied Misaki as she cheerfully prattered on at Yoshimi. Putting aside the slightly baffling matter of how she'd managed to recognise him after such a dramatic appearance change, it seemed like Misaki was clearly up to something by being here. From 3E, Toshiko knew that the oblivious part of her cheerful oblivion was often just an act-she was smarter than she seemed, and used that to her advantage when she needed.

The only problem was that, Misaki being the do-gooder, pacifist that she was, Toshiko knew that the concept of the Juuni Taisen was utter anathema to someone like her, more so than it was for Eiji, no matter what rewards were offered. On the other hand, Misaki was a peace negotiator, someone who made a career out of wading into wars and ending them, finding peaceful alternatives. And what was the Juuni Taisen, if not a war?

But that's impossible. That is impossible, and ridiculous. And I can't let it happen.

"And Ino-san, how are you? Nervous?"

"Me, nervous? Don't be stupid." Toshiko said with a toss of her hair. "I've been preparing for this most of my life. By the way, what clan are you representing? I can't work it out."

"The monkey. My guardians are distant relatives of the clan." She replied. "And, I see. Well, that's good for you. In any case, I suppose we should go in now. Most of the others must have arrived by now."

"I'll lead the way."

Before either Misaki or Yoshimi could protest, Toshiko strode forward, and pushed the doors open, and then led in.

"Hello, everyone, I trust your wait has been pleasant, I am-"

"Well, well, look who it is. You look as splendid as ever, dearie."

Toshiko drew to a halt and stared down, astonished, at Sumihiko, who had come to stand directly in front of her, wearing a straw hat and old-man clothes, carrying a basket of some sort.

"Yagi-kun?!" she asked.

"It's Tsujie now, dearie. But my oh my, to see you here. And is that Yuki-san there? How exciting. And who is this large fellow here?"

"That's Soma-kun, Tsujie-kun." Misaki said from behind her. "Is this everyone?"

About to say something withering to Sumihiko, Toshiko paused at the inflection in Misaki's voice. Something is wrong. Tensing ever so slightly despite herself, Toshiko tried her best to remain poised.

"What do you mean?" she asked without looking behind her.

"What the fuck, you mean you don't recognise me either?!" a female voice burst out.

Toshiko turned to the owner of the voice, and paid proper attention to her for the first time. The tiger-print bikini and leather jacket were a curious choice of battlefield outfit, not to mention a horrible one. But the moment she looked at the face of the person wearing that outfit, she knew who it was right away. She opened her mouth to say something, only for someone else to speak.

"Mate, Kashii didn't even recognise you-we've never seen you in such a state of undress before!"

"Shut up!" Kanae Aira told Takeyasu hotly before turning back to Toshiko.

"I recognise you, Aira-san." Toshiko told her, making a dismissive hand gesture.

I recognise you, and Yagi-no, Tsujie-kun-, and the twins, and….yes, as I suspected, Kashii-kun, too….more classmates than expected, but this changes nothing. We can team up and take out the remaining warriors….

Toshiko looked over to see who they were, only to see that Misaki had rushed over to the tables loaded with food, flinging her arms around a male and female who were standing around there, both looking faintly unsettled (increased more so by Misaki rushing at and embracing them). The female was also dressed in a revealing outfit that looked ridiculous, even more so by the fact it was complemented by a huge red-and-yellow feathery looking cloak, while the male was of a slim build and wearing some sort of armour over tight black garments. When Misaki actually let them go, the female just blinked and looked dazed while the male surveyed everything with all-too-familiar, sleepy eyes. Sumino-kun, and Niwa-san.

So, that makes….Toshiko paused and counted the familiar faces off in her head, trying to ignore Misaki's babbling and the other chatting going on around her. Nine of us. Nine of us from 3E. That's fine, this still changes nothing, I can just…

Tsugiyoshi's sleepy gaze eventually made it to her, and he raised one of his just as sleepy eyebrows.

"So, this is a class reunion, huh?"

The words were almost mouthed, and Toshiko had to really strain to work out what he was saying-lip reading had never been her strong suit-but it was enough to make Misaki's stream of questions stop as she regarded him seriously.

"What do you mean by that?" Misaki asked. "I mean, there's most of us here, but-"

"Nah, the kid's right. This is a class reunion alright, though not exactly a happy one."

Toshiko jumped, and though she quickly recovered her poise and stilled herself, she couldn't conceal her surprise as she looked over into the far corner of the room to see none other than Michio Tsukui, looking meaner and gruffer than ever, busy wrapping a section from his ripped cloak-which looked slightly better than Ryoka's, being in an elegant black and fur lined-around a gash on his arm. Nearby, there was a muscular man who was in more of a state of undress than either Kanae or Ryoka, anxious look on his face as he hovered watching Michio. It took a few moments for this man to notice the attention suddenly turned on them, but soon enough, he turned, and though the face was older and the eyes blackened, Toshiko recognised him, too.

"Tsukishiro-kun?" Misaki exclaimed, enough shock for both of them in her voice.

"I didn't mean to!" Rei exclaimed. "I didn't recognise that it was Michio and I was scared! I know you're not supposed to hurt friends and I'm sorry!"

Well, at least now I know what that's all about, but really? Toshiko turned around slowly, and looked at all of them. My opponents….are my former classmates?

"For fuck's sake, I said it was okay, didn't I? I didn't recognise you, either!" Michio growled.

He finished bandaging himself, and then strolled over to them all. Rei stared, still snivelling a little, and then loped over to join them.

"I see what you mean now, Sumino-kun…." Misaki said thoughtfully.

Toshiko waited for her to say that this gave her more motivation again, or something like that. But she didn't, instead she just looked around, waiting for someone to say something. But nobody did. Instead, with all of them gathered right there by the tables, they all just looked at each other, not sure what to do. Because whatever had led them all to this point in time, none of them had been expecting this.

But this changes nothing, right? This changes nothing. I've still been fighting for this chance since forever, and I'm still going to win this.

This changes nothing. This changes nothing.

That was she kept trying to tell herself as the silence ticked by and they all struggled to work out what to do, what to say. This changes nothing, that was what she kept saying, knew she should say.

But she knew all too well that it was a lie. Because this changed everything. Absolutely everything.