Author's Notes: Hopefully the wait wasn't too long with that cliffhanger. ;) The King has finally made his entrance; he's a real piece of work too...Eeesh. Anywho, I hope you enjoy the latest addition! Constructive Criticism is always welcomed.
Ceteris Paribus
Chapter Fourteen: Fractured Wings
Sharp, nearly crippling fear seized at Mako's limbs as her father entered her quarters on unhurried feet, his eyes swiftly taking in everything.
"It appears that my informant was correct," he commented almost nonchalantly.
Chiaki and Ryunosuke had immediately dropped to one knee, their heads bowed as low to the floor as they could get without actually touching it at the King's entrance.
Kotoha had dropped into a deep curtsey, her head down, but she kept stealing glances at Mako who seemed frozen in place, her spine as erect as ever.
Mako could feel the blood draining from her face even as her mask had slipped on as efficiently as ever.
"Tell me daughter," he directed at Mako with cold amusement. "What exactly is going on here? I'd like to hear it from you first before I make any rash decisions."
Mako gathered her wits and pushed her fear roughly aside, even as her heart continued to beat at a furious rate. "What rumors has some bird been twittering in your ear this time, Sire?" Her voice managed to come out cool and distant, but she didn't dare look around at a single soul in the room other than the man who stood before her.
The King laughed suddenly, causing Kotoha to flinch but otherwise she held her prostrate position.
"I know you don't get along with the other women, daughter. They "twitter" about you all the time." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "But you are a strange one, aren't you?" His hand reached out and indicated her bookshelves and Agnitio board. "Reading and playing games…"
Again, Mako didn't so much as bat an eyelash and her father finally shrugged.
"I don't care how you amuse yourself, so long as you stay out of my hair. The women can squawk about your oddities all they want." He shot Mako a sharp look. "But this particular informant has delivered some unsettling news, oh daughter of mine."
Chiaki and Ryunosuke tensed as the King's personal guards filed into the room on quiet feet. Kotoha bit her lip, her eyes wide as she watched the floor, not daring to look at her sister now lest she give something away. Genta shifted himself subtly in front of Takeru where they stood in their offset corner, trying to look as unobtrusive as possible, as impossible as it was.
"It seems we have found a new game to play, haven't we?" The King prompted when Mako kept her counsel.
All the "games" she was currently playing ran through her mind in rapid succession. To speak of a single one would be to court death and sign the death warrants of all those she held dear.
"I have always played Agnitio Father," she answered, knowing he was expecting some sort of an answer, regardless if it was the one he wanted.
The King's expression turned ugly in an instant. "Not that, you useless girl! Your slave!" His voice rose as he pointed toward Takeru, Genta tensing in an instant. "Prancing about like he belongs here – like he's one of us. No iron bracelets, no restrictions, no humiliation. Where's your common sense?!"
Mako's eyes became steely. "He was injured protecting me because of those iron bonds."
"All the better that he had died in an assassination attempt against one of my daughters," he waved away her explanation.
Her eyes widened, breaking through her carefully composed mask for just a moment. "You knew? You knew someone had made an attempt against my life and did nothing?"
"Silence girl," he glared at her in response for daring to question his actions. "It's your own fault for refusing to allow my guards into your rooms."
Mako felt fury race through her veins. It was one thing to wonder if he hadn't known at all, it was another that he had known all along and considered it beneath his acknowledgement. "Your concern for my welfare is most touching Father." She said his name like an insult.
"If you'd act like a normal woman, like the rest of the women here, you wouldn't have to worry," he barked back. "If you'd stop making friends with servants," he indicated the occupants of the room, "if you'd use your slave like you were supposed to –"
"You expressly told me to 'do with him as I pleased' and this is my will," Mako cut her father off, heedless of the warning of anger in his eyes.
"You know damn well this isn't what I expected of you!" His face was red with rage.
"Well, like you said yourself, Father, I am not normal."
Mako's head reeled back in a sudden burst of pain, a gasp escaping her lips as her father backhanded her across the face.
"I told you to watch that tongue of yours, you stupid girl," he bit out, before pausing to consider her.
Mako held a hand to her already reddening cheek, her eyes focused on an invisible spot on the floor as she fought for control, her breathing heavy.
The room had stilled – everyone had locked their muscles down lest their actions hurt Mako even further, though Genta was forced to subtly keep a restraining hand around Takeru's wrist in warning.
The King's guards shifted quietly on their feet in discomfort but knew it meant their lives to interfere in any way.
"It is past time you learned a few lessons of your own," the King continued as if nothing had happened, feeling much calmer now that he had had an outlet for his anger. "Some that will hopefully humble you some before your marriage."
"Marriage?" The word slipped past Mako's numb lips in shock.
He gave her a stern look of warning. "You're finally of age; your beauty if well-spoken of," he frowned. "Though your tongue needs some work." He eyed her critically. "Maybe after you've been retrained to be the First Princess of the Court I expect you to be, you might be tame enough for marriage." His grin was cruel and humorless. "If not, either Alamanzor or Torquil will certainly be able to keep you under control."
What color was left in Mako's face vanished in an instant, the red mark on her cheek standing out like a bright crimson signal. Those two names were whispered with terror amongst daughters far and wide. Rumors of their malicious cruelty were well-known, and every young woman prayed to be married of to someone – anyone – else.
Servants who even appeared to look at one of these two men wrong were beaten to within an inch of their lives until they finally succumbed to their wounds. Men, women, children – it didn't matter, all were the same in their eyes.
Genta's knuckles on Takeru's arm were white with strain from keeping them both in check – everyone had heard of those notorious men. He sometimes wondered if the two tried to "out do" each other in their sick and twisted methods once a story spread like wildfire across the world's lips.
Pleased at Mako's reaction, the King was all smiles once more.
"You. Servant," he directed at Ryunosuke though he didn't deem it worth his time to look at him. "Escort my other daughter to her own rooms and make sure she stays there – no more of this shared room nonsense. Childhood is long over; it is past time the First Princess grew up."
He turned to Chiaki next. "I want you to go with one of my men. He will help you find the proper attire for the First Princess' slave. You will bring it back here and ensure it stays on, no matter what she says. And then it will be your duty to position yourself in these chambers so as to report to my messengers daily so that I am assured my daughter is taking seriously to her…lessons."
The King finally turned back to Mako. "And you will learn your lessons. You will conduct yourself in the manner I expect you to. You will use your slave as you are supposed to or rest assured, his life and all the subsequent ones that follow until you learn your lessons will be forfeit. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
Mako's voice was soft in answering, almost too quiet to hear. "Yes, Sire."
"Better," he nodded. "That's the kind of obedience I expect of those in my household – what every man worth anything should expect from a woman or any who serve him." With a self-satisfied sigh of content he turned on his heel and made a swift exit, seeing no point in lingering now that his "problem child" had been dealt with and all affairs were once more in proper order.
"You see?" He told his guards who followed him out the door, Chiaki right on their heels but the look of deepest loathing in his eyes as he did so, "All a man needs is a firm hand to guide with –"
Chiaki shut the door behind them firmly, effectively blocking out anything else the King had to say.
Tense, heavy silence filled the air in the wake of the King.
Finally, Kotoha rose from her position and approached her sister, her heart breaking at her sister's bowed head, her midnight blue veil hiding her face from all in the room. "Mako?"
"You'd better go," Mako's voice was a whisper, her arms folding around herself, keeping them latched at her sides rather than give into the comfort and empathy her sister offered. She didn't dare take the risk.
Ryunosuke took Kotoha gently by the shoulders, shaking his head when Kotoha had made to move closer to Mako anyways. "I'll make sure she's safe," he assured Mako, waiting until she nodded in acknowledgement before guiding his charge silently out the door.
Genta watched the princess before him, tremors beginning to shake her small frame.
"I'm going to keep watch outside," he told Takeru in an undertone. "I don't trust this king not to have something up his sleeve." Takeru gave a tight nod and Genta slipped out the door on soundless feet.
Once alone Takeru took his turn in approaching Mako, his footsteps slow and obvious, not wanting to surprise her. When he was close enough that he could smell her light, sweet incense he carefully reached out and laid a hand upon her shoulder.
"Don't," Mako jerked away, her voice breaking. "It's what he wants."
Takeru embraced her tightly without hesitation. "Mako," he breathed, holding her to him as closely as he could, calling himself every kind of degrading name for not being able to protect her when she had needed someone most.
Mako's breath caught in the back of her throat at hearing him call her name.
Takeru always called her by name, not by a title, or like an object the way her father always did.
Mako's knees collapsed from underneath her as the tight lock she always kept on her emotions burst open with a tremendous force. Takeru caught her easily, slowly sinking to the ground together with her, holding her tightly as she cried.
He stroked her hair and murmured softly to her, every tender caress, every gentle word seeming to only make her sob harder.
Takeru felt something inside him wrench free and he vowed there and then as he held the shaking young woman in his arms that he would do everything within his power to make sure she ended up happy.
This was the last time her father hurt her like this.
There would be no pre-arranged marriages designed by that man. Takeru would make sure of it.
By the time Chiaki and the other guard returned Mako had cried herself out and was sitting on the settee with Takeru at her side. She was staring listlessly out the window, too lost in her own thoughts to speak, but anchored in a safe harbor by his hand in hers.
When the sharp rap sounded at the door, Takeru stood as Mako granted permission to those on the other side.
Mako grimaced and looked away as the sounds of clinking metal echoed alarmingly in the suddenly too small rooms. She faced the window but squeezed her eyes shut all the same, unable to stomach the thought of seeing Takeru locked back up like an animal in a menagerie. But it appeared that her lack of sight only sharpened her hearing and every bright ping of metal, every click as locks slid into place felt as if they were chaining her up with him.
Chiaki, his face stern but gray allowed the King's guard to "do the honors," but watched the man like a hawk, eager to get him out of the rooms as fast as possible.
As the last lock was turned on the shackles around Takeru's wrists, Chiaki turned to the other guard. "Tell the King his will has been done."
The guard nodded and then bowed low to the First Princess before making his exit.
Mako glanced over at Takeru at the sound of the door closing, cringing in pain as the feeling of a sharp needle pierced through her chest, and turned swiftly away.
The heavy manacles around Takeru's wrists had returned, as had the thick metal collar around his neck, connecting to his wrist chains to form a "T" as before, but the King hadn't stopped there. Leg shackles had been added, ones with a short chain between so as to make even walking a challenge.
The King wasn't a stupid man – he intended to make things as difficult for his enemy as possible should Takeru ever get it in his head to try and make a run for it. He didn't need Takeru to be able to defend himself; it was merely his whim that the young prince was even alive to begin with.
Takeru nodded and Chiaki retreated to the doorway to try and give them some semblance of privacy as Takeru went to Mako's side. He sat on the edge of the settee once more, and with the ringing of chains raised his hand to turn her face toward him, shifting her sheer veil aside and tracing the angry mark on her face with gentle fingers.
Silent tears slid down her face as their eyes met. She shifted her cheek so that it rested inside his warm hand for a moment before turning her head to kiss his palm.
His hand held her face softly as they sat there quietly; searching each other's face for answers to questions left unasked.
There was no pretending now, no longer any room to ignore the feelings that had grown between them.
Neither would have responded the way they had if there hadn't been something there.
If Takeru was really "just a slave" her father had gifted to her, she knew the sight of seeing him locked up again – to be violently reminded of how little control she really had over the situation – would have only provoked a sharp sympathy. She would have cared – she wasn't callous – but it wouldn't have hurt like this. She wouldn't have felt this helpless, wouldn't have felt like a large part of her world was unraveling at the edges faster than she could keep up with.
If Mako had just been his "mistress," the one he had been assigned to and told to keep an eye on as his mission demanded him to, the sight of watching her father harm her wouldn't have provoked such disgusted fury in him. Hearing about her proposed marriage partners would have earned the King further reasons to be rid of him as soon as possible, but it wouldn't have made Takeru want to kill the man with his own two hands. Her tears wouldn't have torn at something deep inside, something that wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms and protect her from the cruelty of the world.
Mako flinched at a sudden knock on the door, and they both tensed until they recognized the voice on the other side, requesting permission to enter.
With a nod from Mako, Chiaki let Genta in, both men's faces nearly identical in their seriousness.
"I went to check in on the little princess," Genta began without preamble, all traces of his usual mirth gone. "Ryunosuke sent me to tell you that she's fine, she's more concerned about her sister." He glanced quickly at Chiaki before darting away as Chiaki's mouth hardened into a fine line.
Being ordered to stay and watch over Mako constantly wasn't in his plans. Being a palace guard allowed him some freedom to wander about and get people into position as needed, spreading word to others as new information was available. As Kotoha's personal guard he still had much of this freedom, even if he did tend to stray closer to her side than was probably preferred by his superiors.
Now he was stuck here, acting as little more than a babysitter. One that was supposed to make sure the First Princess was behaving the "appropriate" way, one that involved more…involved lessons with her slave than simply moving stone pieces across a wooden board. Chiaki refused to let his imagination wander too far down that path; those were images he'd rather keep out of his mind for the foreseeable future, one that seemed to be shrinking in size by the day.
His mood soured, feeling like he was as chained to this room as Takeru was to his heavy metallic bracelets.
Kotoha's worried face popped into his mind and he wondered how she was really handling everything.
"Don't worry Chiaki," Mako's voice was soft. "I'll figure out a way to get you by her side as soon as I can, as often as possible."
Chiaki started, a blush rising from his neck that traveled right into his hairline. How the hell was she able to read him like an open book like that? It was downright unnerving sometimes, embarrassing at others.
Mako's smile was gentle, if not entirely reassuring for how off-balance she seemed now.
He studied her with a critical eye. She looked almost fragile, something he wasn't used to seeing and he found it unsettling. For the first time he was intensely grateful that she and Takeru were becoming…something.
He hadn't really given it much thought before, always knowing it was something that would never be, something the two would never let be. And he had shrugged it off. It was just the way the world worked. Both Takeru and Mako were well aware of it. Who was he to point it out? Ryunosuke did that often enough for them all, even though the man had the best intentions at heart.
But watching how close they sat next to each other, their hands the only things that were touching, clenched tightly between them as if giving and receiving strength in equal parts, Chiaki felt something settle into place in his mind, felt it breathe a sigh of something that was remarkably similar to relief.
Perhaps it was cruel to think so, but the feelings that were growing between the pair daily might be their saving grace. With how determined Mako was to protect them, and how Takeru had seemed to now take his mission straight to heart because of it, maybe they would live to see this thing finished after all. Maybe they'd live to see what would become of them when it was over.
And maybe, just maybe – though it was a hope he wouldn't place money on – they all might find some semblance of happiness in the aftermath.
And so, after hesitation and an internal debate, Chiaki finally responded by bowing deeply to Mako, showing her his utmost respect and gratitude.
Genta's smile returned in bits and pieces at the sight of it while Takeru's brow simply rose in surprise.
Chiaki never bowed down to anyone if he had the choice, even to Takeru.
Mako blinked rapidly, a little overcome and not entirely sure how to respond.
When Chiaki stood upright once more, Genta slapped his friend on the back, giving his approval and Chiaki flushed.
"Thank you, both," Mako finally said, her voice humble.
Genta waved aside her gratitude, his face serious once more.
"I won't lie to you Princess, this isn't good. Whatever tricks your father has up his sleeve won't be good for any of us, yourself included." He shifted his stance slightly. "You mentioned you had an idea – a sure fire way to get us out of this predicament with as less muss and fuss as possible."
Mako nodded shakily, her fingers clenching in their grip around Takeru's hands and he looked at her in concern. She breathed in deeply, her exhale almost a sigh as she wished she had the support of her sister and childhood friend both in the room standing steadfastly behind her.
But wishes were for those who could afford them.
"I think I many have a way to get all of you out of here and into both Pluvia and Caelestis Via's protection." She paused, feeling that rush of terror and anticipation, like jumping from a high cliff into the water below.
"I've been in contact with Caelestis Via," she pushed forward, feeling the way the entire room tensed and silence stole over the three young men in front of her. "I've been communicating with them for months now, earning their trust and asking for help."
She couldn't bring herself to look around and see their faces, not yet. She might lose her nerve if she did. "They – they've agreed to concede to my requests, to help, so long as I proved my loyalty – confirmed their trust in me and my sincerity in an unshakable way." Her voice became quiet. "I couldn't think of a grand enough gesture to earn their faith for the longest time, even though it was staring me in the face all along."
Mako looked up at Takeru then, her expression grim but steadfast in her determination. "I'm going to set you free."
Takeru's eyes widened as her words registered in his mind. "What?"
"You," she looked around the room, "Genta, Chiaki, and Kotoha – all of you will be leaving this place far behind." Her smile didn't reach her eyes, her heart threatening to tear in two. "What greater show of faith could I offer than returning their prince and his friend?" She looked at Chiaki. "I have already asked Kotoha to escort them out of the palace and out of this place, with you watching over her and navigating through the city once you are beyond the walls. I'm sorry I didn't ask you before, but I assumed that wherever she would go, you too would follow if given the chance, even if it meant that you had to leave your homeland behind."
Chiaki flushed, as much from Mako pinning his feelings for Kotoha so exactly as much for feeling guilty that he was still lying about who he was and hiding it from both princesses.
Mako read his blush and sudden discomfort as an acknowledgement of her words.
"I haven't worked out the specifics yet, but I have already sent my response ahead to let them know of my plans," she continued. Her eyes darted between the three. "We'll figure out everything as hurriedly as possible.
"I know it's a lot to ask after all you've been through already, but if you could be patient for just a little longer, I swear to you that my father won't get the chance to harm you further." She shook her head, her eyes fierce in her determination. "I won't let him."
The three men exchanged quick looks, communicating without words.
"What about you Princess?" Genta asked in the ensuing silence following Mako's speech.
"Me?" Mako looked genuinely confused at the question.
"You mentioned the three of us and your sister, but said nothing about both you and your trusted confidant," he pointed out shrewdly.
Mako swallowed her throat suddenly dry. "I will be orchestrating the events with Ryunosuke's help."
"That's not what I meant and you know it." Genta watched her with eyes that said he clearly knew what she wasn't saying.
"Genta." Takeru shook his head, silently telling him to back off. Genta frowned slightly but let the matter drop.
"I think the better question," Takeru said to cover the moment, "is why?"
"Why?" Mako's eyes were drawn into Takeru's seemingly passive stare.
"Why are you willing to go so far, risking your King's wrath, for us?"
Mako's sudden smile threw him off-guard. "It's simple," she replied with clear eyes for the first time since her father had made his untimely entrance. "I protect those I care about." She looked at them all individually until they met her eyes. "And I care about all of you." Her fingers squeezed Takeru's where they remained interlaced between them as her eyes returned to his, hoping he could read the earnest sincerity and truth of her words.
Following a sudden whim and a deeper instinct, Takeru leaned in and gave Mako a soft kiss on the lips. She stiffened in surprise, but when he pulled back her body seemed to automatically try to lean forward, trying to prolong the touch.
Mako blushed crimson at the open display of affection, unable to find the words she was going to say. She had felt Takeru's response to her words, and it struck a chord deep within her in a place that words would never be able to quite reach.
Chiaki's mouth fell open, having only heard the stories of Mako and Takeru kissing or seeing the aftermath, never witnessing it himself.
Genta simply nodded. "Well said Takeru." He grinned audaciously. "And if I might add, some more displays like that may even convince the king here that Princess is holding up her side of the bargain with these "lessons" of hers." He glanced at Chiaki and couldn't stifle his amusement. "Chiaki won't have to stretch the truth too much after all. The other guards will only have to take one look at his face and know it's not a lie."
He sighed heavily from sudden troubling thoughts. "Though, I think we'll need to work on all of your acting skills. Chiaki can't go up to the guards blushing and stammering like a young maiden – they'd never take him seriously again. And Princess, you'll have to take the lead in this romance; be sure to really give Chiaki an eyeful of how well you are heeding your father's words and your lessons. There should be no doubt in his mind about what's going on behind closed doors, even if it's just a show for any on this side of such door." He waved away everyone's heavy blushing with a nonchalant gesture of his hand.
"I don't care what you two kids get up to on the other side – play that game board of yours for a couple of hours all you want. I'm just saying that you need to make it look convincing when you're on this side." He winked mischievously. "Hands off the Princess Take-chan when you're on this side; the Princess here is the one who has to convince everyone beyond a shadow of a doubt that she's the one in control."
He crossed his arms over his chest and considered the new couple before him, appearing completely unaware of the awkward atmosphere filling the room. "Then again, if you played it off like you couldn't keep your hands off her when in full view of everyone, it could definitely lead the King to believe you're completely enamored of her, and she's become the excellent little seductress he wants her to be."
"Genta," Takeru warned.
Genta blinked, suddenly remembering where he was and whom he was speaking to. "Sorry," he apologized quickly. "I guess I really do need Ryunosuke around sometimes; I get too carried away otherwise." He shrugged. "But I said nothing less than the truth and gave my honest advice."
Still able to feel the waves of heat from her embarrassment rolling off her Mako nodded, taking in Genta's counsel. "You're right," she conceded. "I will…take your words into consideration."
Genta grinned cheekily at Takeru whose glare was less intimidating when it was coupled with such an intense blush of his own.
Mako breathed in deeply to brace herself before standing and facing Genta head on. "Could you show me?"
Genta's smile faltered. "Show you?"
Mako nodded, blushing prettily. "I either skipped out on my lessons altogether or ignored them when I bothered to attend… I don't know how to do what you suggest."
Genta rubbed at the back of his head. "Well, I'm not entirely sure I know where to begin, and I think Take-chan would kill me in my sleep if I tried."
Mako glanced back at Takeru, her flush rising as she did so, but as their eyes met, an ironclad resolve straightened her spine and halted her nerves. "This is necessary," she explained. "For all of us."
He shrugged before turning to his friend. "Are you okay with that Take-chan?"
Takeru eventually nodded, once and sharply, though from his expression Genta knew he was anything but. Reading Takeru's less than enthusiastic expression, Genta's eyes lit up in delight as an idea occurred.
"I think the best way for you to learn is for you and Take-chan to practice."
Mako blinked in response, not sure what he meant.
Genta slid past Mako and pulled Takeru to his feet, dragging his friend closer until the pair was standing in front of each other.
"Okay Princess, I want you to grab the chain attached to the manacle around Takeru's neck and pull him closer to you."
"…what?"
Genta waved her forward with a reassuring grin.
Chiaki rolled his eyes. "This is ridiculous."
With trembling fingers Mako reached out and grasped the offending chain loosely and gently tugged him forward.
Genta sighed loudly. "Not like that," he schooled her. "Pull him to you like you can't wait another second, like you can't stand to be apart for another minute."
Mako frowned though she was blushing and shook her head. "I don't think I can do that."
"Why not?"
Mako's hand fluttered to her own neck subconsciously. "I know what it feels like to be yanked around by the neck." She winced at the remembered pain.
"Ah, right." Genta managed to look sheepish. He thought for a moment before approaching her and grasping her hands in his, steering her closer to Takeru. Mako trusted him to guide her though she was uncomfortable with Genta touching her. She wasn't used to any physical contact with other people except Kotoha and Ryunosuke, and much more recently, Takeru.
Genta placed Mako's hands on either side of Takeru's face. "Try doing it this way instead."
Mako flushed, releasing Takeru's face as soon as Genta let go of her wrists.
"I never realized you were so innocent Princess," Genta smiled, slightly amused but trying not to scare her off. "You always act so aloof and untouchable around others." He tapped his chin as he thought. "Just try bringing those skills to use here – act like nothing fazes you, that the stares and whispers don't exist."
Mako nodded, realizing what Genta was trying to say and not taking offense at it.
Genta was silent for a long moment as he studied the couple in front of him.
"What is it?" Mako finally asked when she couldn't stand the quiet any longer and had begun to fidget under his stare.
"I think I may have solved one of our problems." He reached out and tugged gently on one of the chains connecting Takeru's wrists. "All these heavy restraints would be sure to leave a mark. I imagine the King wouldn't be too pleased about that."
He met the eyes of the three in the room with him. "He wouldn't want the Princess all bruised up on her wedding night, would he? Especially if those discolorations were to be in very visible places." His grin was impish. "It would be pretty easy for Chiaki to convince the other guards that the Princess is bruising, and if the word spreads far enough, say, to the King's ears, then we can also suggest that there be a key close at hand to unlock the chains when the Princess is feeling particularly, ah, amorous. Then she can carry out her "learning" without fear of marking up her body for her future husband, and we can have the means to give Take-chan a faster pace to run with when you give us the signal to hightail it out of here."
Mako nodded slowly. "That's a good idea actually."
Chiaki snorted. "Yeah, except that there won't be any evidence for me to see."
"Tsk tsk," Genta waved his finger at the younger man as if scolding him. "Mako here is the First Princess. As her guard, you wouldn't be able to see the marks unless she invited you to, if you get my meaning."
Chiaki shot Genta a dirty look.
"I can always fake the bruising," Mako assured him. "It wouldn't be hard; skin bruises so easily." She laughed lightly. "Although, after banging my shins into the furniture enough times, I don't think I could ever hope to be called graceful again."
"See," Genta grinned. "Problem solved."
Chiaki scoffed, annoyed. "It's going to take a miracle to get us all out of here alive at this rate," he muttered to himself, watching in exasperation as Mako faltered and stumbled through Genta's advice.