WOOING, The

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WALK IN THE WOODS

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Most of the times, my office door is left ajar. Why? To let students in and pass their scrolls, of course. Don't want them having any more excuses to not do their homework. Not to worry, I jinxed the room to make sure nothing that belongs inside gets out. Now, as I was saying, most of the times, my office door is left ajar. One night I worked overtime—in hopes to get a raise: I'd quite like to buy myself a new tie—and found someone at my door. To my surprise, it was a princess, judging by the use of perfume. (That's one reason why students use such objects to distinguish themselves for me. Such delightful children.)

I had to attend to her immediately—who knew how long she'd been out there—and so I busied myself listening to her.

Somewhere between the lines I wondered if this was why the School Master hadn't hired a Student Psychiatrist yet.

And so I advised her the best way I could.

WHAT YOU NEED

1. Place to stroll

2. Someone with you

That's about it. The girl was particularly cross with me after I said it: Claimed that she'd been waiting for hours for the man best informed of love, a problem which she thought I could formulate a solution to, when the said love expert wasn't even me.

That did sting, if a bit.

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Kiko dashed through the Forest, face muddied and hair a nest of thin branches. Bruised, battered and battle-worn, she squeezed tears through her eyes and gnawed at her lower lip for comfort. She didn't need her eyes open. Not this time. She'd already lost her way. Death was everything beautiful around her disguised, so sneaky her own eyes deceived her. She didn't know whether or not to trust her brain—she couldn't even breathe without fearing fumes would suffocate her. Nighttime mist swathed her like she was welcomed. She couldn't let her guard down even for a second.

Blood was flowing freely out her open wounds, coating her both in red liquid and grime that stuck to her. Deep inside she knew a night's bath wouldn't be enough to ward off the stench. As she thought of home, a sinking feeling dragged her heart lower, turning it to a squirming writhing organ. She'll make it through this. She has to.

She rested against a tree, leaning her whole weight against it. It was the only thing that didn't want her dead…She loved this tree. Then, with a sudden thought, she looked up, up its thin twisted trunk, its strong branches that rose to the sky.

Nobody would ever find her up a tree—not if she hid herself cleverly enough. She wouldn't risk falling down, not only to break her bones but also losing her ability to walk altogether, except she had no choice: She smelled of something that lured vicious animals to her. At least if she'd be maimed, humane mercy would delay it long enough for her to strike back. However…beasts were completely different. She wasn't really useful in communicating with animals, either. Seeing her options were limited and the only choice that didn't lead her to her demise the soonest was climbing up the tree.

Feebly, she agreed with herself and put one foot on the lowest branch, her hand grabbing another higher up, pulling her body upward. Everboys competed in climbing up the tree the fastest, and she was the regular witness to such games, for the frequent competitor was none other than Tristan. She mimicked what she watched him do almost every day, and found it relatively easy. The repetitive motion set her at ease with its overall painlessness. It wasn't that bad.

At last she made it to a thick enough branch to rest on. Its leaves made a net of something not unlike a bed. Trial by Tales sure did make roosts on tree branches' bushes a real luxury.

She hoisted herself up, standing on the branch with balance. Kiko used her toe to test the branch bed's strength if it could endure her as long as she could it, and when it proved sturdy enough, she splayed herself comfortably on it then heaved a sigh of relief.

She'll just have to wait until sunrise.

Seconds passed, and the coziness made her slip into sleep…

Then there was a rustle.

Kiko's fluttered open, but she didn't dare move. A Never.

She sucked in incredible amounts of air, catching her own breath. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was a princess—

More noises.

Oh God oh God oh God she didn't want to die—

Sagging, crunching, leaves whispering to each other, to her, but the plants' words only passed as foreign in her ears, telling her the intruder's face, what he was presently doing, though she'd never understand—what caused the petals to shiver and the grass to shudder; everything in the Forest around her was screaming, yet she didn't know, couldn't know—

Through all the ruckus she heard a deep, ragged, uneven breathing. It wasn't her own.

She would die unless she'd stop panicking now!

Kiko did a quick prayer, then let her finger glow—extreme anxiety was the root of it—before she turned to the direction of the sounds and cast her spell.

"Intrico!"

It meant to entangle.

There was a loud grunt of surprise, then vines whipping, the ones that weren't wrapped around the mass taut by weight.

"Argh!"

Frightened, Kiko peeked through her fingers. Surprisingly, she saw red hair.

Neverboys didn't have hair that well groomed, or at all.

Rising from her position, Kiko turned to get a better look of her victim.

She flushed in shame: Tristan!

The only visible part of him were his horrified eyes and the occasional skin that showed underneath the constricting plants. Her crush struggled to release himself of the lianas' grip: The more he did, the tighter they coiled around him, and he let out a horror-struck gasp that came out hoarse and raspy. Kiko frantically slid down the tree—splinters were of no concern right now!—and undid the jinx as soon as Tristan's face started to turn blue—

The vines were loosening him: Within seconds, Tristan was no longer snared. He rolled to the ground in a heap, gasping for breath, color drained from his face to be replaced by purple, veins showing—Kiko rushed to his side, not knowing how to come up with a real-sounding excuse that didn't make her sound like an idiot.

She chose option x) Apologize profusely.

"I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorrymsorrymsorimsorimsori—" With a flash of her finger, he breathed normally again. But that didn't stop the pain. When he uttered something that sounded like, "…cks," she thought he wanted to say "thanks," and left it like that.

He coughed, and Kiko kept her proximity from him. (She didn't want him to think she was overly eager to close their distance.)

"Do you need anything?" she asked, worry in her voice. "There's got to plants here to make herbs out of—or something—we can't let you—"

"It's…okay," he croaked, clutching his stomach. He sounded like a constipated frog. Kiko fought back the urge to laugh at herself. She helped him lean against the tree, where he examined his bruise marks from the vines' aggressive ambush.

"What made…you think I was…a Never?" He fixed his gaze on her, and she felt like melting beside him.

"I—I was being attacked everywhere—I thought it'd be the same here." And it was true. This was her only refuge here. Tristan could only nod, sighing. Quite intimidated by his silence, Kiko played with her fingers on her lap, berating herself with every insult she was taught by her mother. (Among them was "dunderhead," and the rest would be left with you.)

Their shoulders suddenly brushed, and it was the best sensation Kiko ever felt in her life. She was so startled that she inhaled sharply.

"What are you doing?" Tristan asked, resting his head against the trunk.

Excuse-excuse-excuse—"It smells nice," she said, a little quickly.

"Ah, I suppose, but this certainly isn't the best hiding place," he replied.

…Oh. So he didn't notice. She let him continue whatever he was talking about. "I used to live in a castle with a garden full of plants like these. Except these are exotic—they're all weird colors, and most here look like they're made from parts of other flowers."

As soon as he said it, Kiko knew at once he was right. Every plant looked bizarre, yet gorgeous: Each specie was a hybrid of at least a dozen disparate flowers, and thus looked both familiar but unusual, for they have inherited some of their parents' traits. The Forest was home to arrays of a wide variety of herbs and shrubs, most flowers, among which are made homes in the process by woodland creatures. There was an ethereal glow to everything, illuminating the darkness with their own radiance as though the plants themselves reflected he light bounced back from the moon. It casted the two with coronas of pale light on the two children. If it weren't for the danger of imminent death, this could've easily been the most beautiful place in the school grounds. Blue Forest was graced with beauty and majesty that balanced its deathly and cadaverous nature.

Weasels and voles and rabbits scampered past them in complete smoothness, as though there was nothing more in their glorious path to obstruct them, free. Butterflies and birds hovered above them, flying and gliding and just enjoying the capaciousness, like they belonged to the vast empty yet whole sky, and it belonged to them. There was splendor in every corner that waited their eyes, a grand sight to see beyond what they could take in of everything; the Forest had everything and more to offer them. They sunk in comfortable tranquility, forgetting the danger and for once just relaxing into the soothing arms of the Forest.

Shadows burned in the dark, chased by fear of the night, as Kiko watched Tristan lean on her, eyes drooping yet bright with amazement.

Minutes passed, and they learned to just let the light that filtered through the leaves of the tree's branches caress them with warmth. Kiko sighed in content.

Her eyes fell upon her hands, her right dropped next to her, where she noticed was just out of reach of Tristan's own. Mildly surprised he was falling asleep, she moved her hand, inching slowly to his. Her fingers just brushed against Tristan's when he stirred.

"I…don't want to lose," he mumbled softly: His breath made Goosebumps erupt from Kiko's skin. He made to stand up, and then, out of instinct, Kiko grabbed his wrist.

"You can't! Th-they might come after you!" she reasoned: Anything to convince him to stay with her.

"I'll be back." Of course, as a prince, he had to assure princesses they'd be safe. But this was ridiculous, and for one obvious reason: "The Nevers are after one of their own, anyway."

Oh, Sophie? Kiko remembered someone of the sort as Agatha's best friend, who was absolutely her exact opposite. She rather made a name for herself—as well as Agatha, but that could've been why they were friends in the first place—after a violation or twenty.

"S-still," said Kiko, faltering. "I…" She gulped. Tristan cocked an eyebrow. (Inwardly, she screamed in delight.)

"…You what." Tristan had an odd idea where she was going with this, but kept it to himself as he didn't want to be thought wrong. She should've gone before she ran in the woods: There was a bathroom in every, like, hall.

He looked sooooooo cute when he's confused. She probably had to answer him already, though she couldn't let him go.

"I like your hair," Kiko blurted out.

Tristan blinked, then cleared his throat. "Yeah, I do, too. So if you won't mind—"

"I like your eyes, too."

At this, Tristan withdrew his hand, laughing nervously. "Thanks, I think yours are pretty too. I should really get going—"

"No! I mean, we should stick together." Kiko pulled herself up from the trunk and patted her lap: The instant her eyes were away from him, Tristan seriously considered to skedaddle and leave her, but as he took a second longer to think, she turned to him, strangely giddy for somebody to embark on a journey in the wild woods, with her chestnut hair and dimples and princess-y aura like everything was rainbows and unicorns. She hooked his arm with hers and faced the direction he was turning to, practically dragging him by the heels as she went on, "Who knows what will happen to either of us?"

"Probably God and the School Master," said Tristan sarcastically. "This might be heaven for you, but it won't be sunshine and butterflies when you get digested by a flytrap."

"Yes, but you'd be there to save me." She had to stop thinking this what was she thinking she was insane this is crazy she mustn't make a fool of herself in front of Tristan no no no no no—"You know what, you're right, this is heaven—see? There's grapes there, some apples by the creek, and I passed by this amazing tree with red flowers—did I ever tell you how much I love the color red? I don't think I have, but it suits green if it's in the right shade." They were in a cove of trees, and Kiko gestured to everything as they walked on. "Of course, everything and everyone looks good in red, right? Right. My mother's friend—not royal, by the way, but she might as well have been—was this doctor in the local clinic, and Mom took me where she worked once and we walked in during an operation! I couldn't tell you how—"

"D'you hear that?"

Tristan whipped around, his arms ready to unsheathe his sword.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary—

A bloodcurdling scream ripped out from ahead, setting his nerves aflame. He drew out his weapon and stepped forward. "Don't move!"

"Tristan?" Kiko balled her fists and stayed close to him, fidgeting.

He didn't answer immediately: He gestured to her, one that she knew meant that he should stick close behind. Tristan carefully moved forward, limbs stiff and jelly-like at the same time, clutching on to his sword firmly. They were nearing the rustling rhododendrons.

Every sense that saw reason screamed at him to run away, to scamper like the little boy he felt he was underneath the princely façade, never to look back at something he'd gloom over for not regretting at all: Yet he stood stock-still, rigid with terror. His boots crunched the leaves on the ground each step he took closer to the bushes, making his nerves tingle in apprehension, the grass eating up the leather of his soles with munching noises.

There was something in the thicket.

Kiko pressed herself against his back, and he raised his weapon, bracing for blood—

Now!

A mangy black lynx leapt from its hiding place and clawed at Tristan's chest.

"It's a kitten!" exclaimed Kiko.

Tristan dropped his blade and yelled, trying to pry the feline off him—its claws were digging deep into his skin that his shirt was soaked with blood—"Get it off me! Get off, you dirty cat!"

Kiko cooed at the creature currently spitting at Tristan's face. "Hello there! Be a good cat and come to Kiko, come on!"

"It's—not—working!"

"That's probably because she doesn't like strangers," pointed out Kiko, grabbing the cat by whatever seemed to be its torso and digging her heels to the ground for some leverage. The cat hissed venomously, and Tristan said nothing more as its sticky saliva splattered on his face, though as a gentleman of honesty, he did his best to express his disdain and made a bitter expression. Kiko was saying, "Then again, she couldn't have pounced at you if she didn't think you looked bad—"

Oh, now she was saying that boyish traits have an effect on cats, too?

It sure was making itself comfortable by mewing and growling, its carmine-brown eyes burning into his own. He thought he never saw anything so brutish. Kiko was grunting as she summoned all her strength to force the thing off him—Tristan realized with a searing jolt that her hands were holding his as they yanked and alternately pushed the cat off him—

The black animal jumped off him with a mad shriek, landing on the ground with grace, apparently gloating as it carried itself like it was superior, swaying out of the clearing and back into the groves. Tristan and Kiko watched it disappear, the former of which cross.

"Stupid maintenance," Tristan muttered as its tail vanished with it. "I'm already saddled with you, and now I've stained my armor."

He didn't know the effect of that. He didn't care. At least, not now. Kiko held out her hand for him to hold it. He did. She pulled him up. "What's that cat doing here, anyway?"

"Something must've spooked it." Tristan bent down to pick up his sword. He studied the bushes in which the cat hid itself, then turned to Kiko. "We're heading this way."

She fidgeted like she wanted to argue, yet didn't. Tristan took it as a sign that she was okay with it.

Through the never-ending coppice Tristan slashed at the branches that blocked their path, his feet drowning in the mud as he tramped forward, making unhelpful squelching sounds that just made him uneasy. It was hard to see what was in front of him—the moon was clouded, and the only way he knew where he was going was his present position. Turning around could make them lose their way. Looking behind him would make them lost. Still, he had to check if Kiko was following, or else he's on his own. He felt around with his sword, though was careful in assuming that nobody was in front of him, or else he'd accidentally maim someone.

"It can't have run that far," said Tristan, hoping Kiko would reply.

There was a vague "mhmm" at the back.

"You better get ready. Nevers are usually adept in spells."

Kiko answered, "Uh-huh."

She was strangely agreeable today. Tristan wasn't sure if she was just feeling queasy, or she was mad at him. If it was the latter, then why? She probably wasn't. Either way, she seemed to be deep in thought. Tristan scowled: He didn't like agreeable people. And one thing's for sure, Kiko from anytime but now was not agreeable. He wondered if she was just nervous around him, but that couldn't be it. She was particularly blunt minutes ago. And if she was in any way into him, he wouldn't like to think it. Of course, he understood he was being friendly and all—and perhaps she was, too—though he shouldn't jump to conclusions. Especially here. In the Blue Forest. Where you'll most likely end up hurt. Definitely hurt.

Clicking his tongue, he stopped walking and stowed away his sword—for now.

Kiko bumped into Tristan. She felt the muscles under his shirt tense as she gathered her bearings and stood up straight.

"What's out there?" she whispered, keeping distance from him.

Tristan, mind blank, didn't know how to respond. "…Nothing's out there."

"Oh." She shuffled her feet, finding the grass interesting out of the blue. It occurred to Tristan that she might've been too shy to ask just why he stopped, so he said, "So you, uh, you wanna rest?"

It was a question, not a suggestion: Every nerve in his body told him he shouldn't, and that energy kept him going. Besides, they already cut a long way into this part of the Forest, and he certainly didn't want to stop when he made it this far. Except the burden of company was always permission. If Kiko couldn't keep up, he only had to stop.

Kiko sounded more confident this time. "Actually, I wanna keep walking."

"Good. I mean, sure." This was peculiar. He thought that Kiko was a motormouth: And of all the times she was discreet it had to be now. When things were insanely awkward. He drew out his sword and resumed to shred the vines and branches to make a clear path.

As for Kiko, she was mulling over and over to herself that this wasn't the kind of walk she meant. Hunting for Nevers? That was not the least romantic! What had Professor Sader told her again? She practiced her flirty lines over and over and over. But when the time calls for them—nothing.

Nada. Naught. Nil. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Zippo. Mental block.

She lagged demurely behind Tristan, hoping she wasn't in his way of slaying villains. Almost as soon as she thought about dates in the grove and constructed a scene in which she and a certain red-haired prince held hands and gazed up the moon, Tristan's shout of glee ripped the dream into a million strips.

"So it went this way!"

"Oh, yay." She faked cheer, making it quite obvious, and whether or not Tristan noticed it, he didn't show any of its signs. But once she stepped out of the shroud of vines, she gasped.

A magnificent glade. Leaves' tears dripped to the ground, as liquid as time flowed. Moss blanketed the boulders emitting a pale glow; faint and enchanting as the petals of the glade, canopies upon leafy canopies creating a window for the sea of peeking stars, open and inviting as the carpet of grass was convivial. Arms of trees twined together to bridge gaps, climbing as high as the door to the sky, sinking as low as the moss-veiled ground, as if ensuring this place remain a secret. As Kiko stepped into the clearing, bound by the beauty of it, her feet found soft static on the ground as she stepped on the leaf-strewn forest floor, feeling the droplets cool her toes, the shock of its moisture invigorating her. Tristan was a little bit ahead of her, stepping to the moonlit part of the clearing, where it was clear of the shade the trees provided. She followed him like a slinking shadow, soaked to the skin with moonbeam. Arctic breeze blew by them like a salutation, chilling them to the bone: Frost kissed their flesh and they were greeted by the familiarity of the coolness of the evening's embrace, letting the moon bathe them in twilight.

For a moment it seemed like the undergrowth knotted around her feet to ensnare her before Kiko realized she couldn't move because she was limp by the simple shock that something like this was untouched, an enchanted, mystic place in the woods—the gorgeous ones in the fairy tales, the ones they always talk about, free of monsters and beasts and worries. Here, she felt at ease, the weight of being chased by the Nevers lifted from her like the butterflies fluttering about, wings spread wide aglow with magic, nocturnal to the music of the night, silence their sanctuary, darkness their stage.

"It's amazing…" breathed Tristan, gazing up at the silver asters. Kiko felt his eyes turn to her, and she looked back at him, smiling.

"I've never seen anything bluer than this," she replied. She wasn't talking about the Forest. Tristan's eyes were glittering, light dancing around his fiery mane, ablaze in the moon's light. "Or redder."

"I have." He flicked her forehead playfully. "You're quite the blusher."

Kiko's hand moved up to where he touched her and she giggled. "Let's take a stroll."

"That's a brilliant idea—I've been dying to stretch my bones," Tristan chuckled.

There was a whole garden of the glade for them to explore: It was like a forest in the Forest, and they were determined to see every inch of what their eyes could absorb. They followed a carpet of leaves' path, enjoying the feeling of the lightness under their feet as they sunk, crunching the grass. It was like everything was so sacred, never to touch, never to keep…Yet they could indulge in the splendor with their one or two senses, a feast for the eyes and a spark for the sensation.

At night nothing was awake but those whose magnificence only recognized to be seen at the death of light, surpassing the sun's searing shine like they have a radiance of their own, subtle, faint, yet dazzling: There truly were some things that were appreciated in the darkness, wherein you could see them, esteem yourself, dignified, to ever come across such a natural wonder only many a fellow so fortunate as to stumble upon them as you, yet keep it clandestine, locked in a vault of your memories, a secret stored to be handled it deemed proper, to remember and reflect, a fairy tale place you can but never revisit—it was how most storybooks told tales; vague distractions that avert you from the real hidden magic.

Kiko and Tristan were wrapped in their own comfortable, basking in the view before them. There was much to appreciate in the school, yet nothing could compete with nature.

They walked not hand-in-hand, as much as Kiko wished they could, but they never walked so close to each other before. Somehow…

She sighed.

"It's really lovely." Tristan said it, not her. He might've thought she was gasping in the view or something. She sighed again. This time he looked at her. "Well, aren't you gonna say anything?"

He kicked a rock as it rolled to the bushes. Kiko couldn't find anything to do while she hesitated. "It's okay."

A lie. She was terrible at lying—and even Tristan knew it: He guffawed, the shadows of his smile masking his face.

"'Okay'? This is anything but okay—it's cool, isn't it?"

"If you say so," she mumbled, not completely into this.

"Now wait." Tristan turned to face her fully, his hands in his pockets from the cold. "This isn't the Kiko I know."

"Then you don't know me very well." She should shut her mouth now or she'd spend the rest of her days weeping in her room about how bratty she was being when she had the chance now!

"I wish you'd let me, though," said Tristan softly.

Kiko was screaming inside her head.

"Why don't you spare me the misery of thinking about this for days and tell me what I did wrong?"

Now she was really confused. "What?"

"Playing dumb now." His warm breath turned to white puffs as they walked on. "You've been moody ever since you pulled the cat off me. What's the deal?"

"Deal…deal—I'll tell you what you did wrong," muttered Kiko, her voice high. She kept her pace even. "You said you're saddled with me. How does that not make anyone upset?"

"Is that what this is about?" scoffed Tristan in disbelief. "I know what I said—that was stupid of me, I shouldn't've said it—"

"And wished that somebody else was in my place instead?" Kiko snapped. Tristan whirled in front of her, his hands up to show he was totally and utterly mixed up.

"Time-out, time-out! Easy there," he said, a little bit of himself cowering as he saw her glower. "You should let out some steam first. I was—glad to see that I could team up with you, honest. And in no way did I wish anybody else was with me right now."

"That's not the only thing I'm mad about with you," she mumbled, disgruntled. Tristan raised an eyebrow. "…Maybe it is…"

"A-are we fine now?" He paused, then said, "Don't tell me that's why you're cross with me."

"It is not," Kiko said, face reddening: She was figured out. She tramped ahead, still indomitable to see what else waited in the glade's part of the woods.

Tristan watched her, then trekked on himself, muttering, "Girls."

Six minutes into the rest of their stroll they discovered a majestic pond with such clear water you could see the water floor. That's where Tristan took off his cuirass by Kiko's demand ("It must be a drag to wear such heavy clothes, isn't it?") and there he washed the blood off him, examining his small scratch marks. They weren't lethal, and so was the cat: He wondered where they kept pets when they shouldn't even be allowed to enter the Forest, but he supposed a manner of beings made their way in and out of this acquiescent land. After all, the School Master was himself kidnapping kids, so letting cats in just fit his flexible bill. Sometimes students wonder whether he was really Good, and if he was, he must be stupid, or inexplicably, capriciously Evil. The pair left the pond, quenching their thirst, grabbed as many midnight snacks they could from the berry trees with branches low enough to pick from and sped off, giggling and chortling about which between getting pustules or empty stomachs was worse.

"This is what I just loathe about being so clever," Kiko was saying, "It's not like I wanna flunk on purpose just to not enter the Trial by Tale—but it takes quite a toll on me and—when I was seven-something I was usually let outside with my brothers to play, and I did get unwanted bruises, mind you—"

"No, no, I get what you mean," said Tristan, sucking on a fruit. "Not in the way you priss—princesses get it…"

"Don't be silly. In order for a prince to get a Happy Ending he has to see things in a way princesses see." She slowed her walk, wistfully staring at his open palm. "…So he'd understand her."

Everything was quiet again—not anxiously so. Just…serene. Meanwhile inside Kiko, a steady rhythm not unlike boulders crashing to the ground was playing, rocking her into limbo, nauseous and feeble. Should she get on with it? Would she muster her courage to ask…?

"Tristan," murmured Kiko, voice as crisp as the leaves beneath her feet. She didn't know if he heard her. She didn't care. She was hearing her heart beat louder than her uttered words, dry albeit drawn out. "Who do you like?"

It seemed like he anticipated this question. He didn't think long about it; it's like he just didn't want her to know this soon. Finally, he exhaled, "…Beatrix."

"I knew it…" Kiko laughed mirthlessly.

"What's the matter now?" Tristan bayed. He definitely took note of everything she did.

"I'm not upset," said Kiko, unconvincingly, "it's just that I'm not keen on your taste for girls, that's all. If I were you, I'd be seeing someone a little more original, maybe Reena or Millicent—"

"I may like someone else…but that doesn't mean you should stop trying." Tristan trudged on.

They were back at the glade, exactly as they left it: It appeared so calm that it was almost holy. The garden where commissioners would've prayed. A place to clear your conscience. Kiko stared up at the starry sky, which was both a ceiling and not.

"Easy for you to say. All you boys are after the prettiest girl."

"Only the stupid ones," murmured Tristan. Kiko halted and stared at him: The blue in his eyes were deep pools of inexorable intensity. He ran his hand through his flaming red hair, eyes not leaving her face. "And that doesn't mean we can't like anyone any less pretty."

"So you're saying Beatrix's a better sight than me."

"I didn't say anything about you," he whispered.

Kiko's heart stopped beating. All oxygen was lost to her within five seconds. She should've shut up. She should've shut. Up.

Tristan swelled in pride, if a bit. He cocked his head to the side, amused, then asked, "Kiko, do you like m—"

"No." She bit her tongue.

Blinking, Tristan pressed, a little more persistently, "Do you have a crush on—"

"No," Kiko said, even waving her hand for effect.

"All right," Tristan said, hands raised in mock surrender. "So you don't."

"Don't what?"

"You don't let me finish my sentences," he went on like he repeated a fact. He was satisfied with seeing her react to what he said, however. They were answers enough.

"I wasn't lying, though," she admitted. Half-admitted. Tristan's eyes were to her. "When I said that I like your hair. And your eyes."

This time he smiled, in thanks. Then he did something she didn't expect: Tristan walked past her.

Her voice sounded small.

"Tristan?"

Tristan didn't stop walking. "Yeah?"

"Wait."

He wanted to. But he couldn't. "Got to keep a princess safe, haven't I? Wouldn't want witches

"…I do like you."

He stopped. He turned, only to have Kiko hook her arm with his, dragging him onward.

"Changed your mind about something?" he inquired, pleased.

"A thing or two," she chirped, cozying up to him. "One, that we're leaving this clearing. Two, that I'm asking Professor Dovey to help me bake cake. Valentine's is just around the corner."

Tristan craned his neck to his right, avoiding her playfully. "You think you have a chance with me?"

"I'm honestly not counting on it," said Kiko bluntly, "She's all Teddy anyway, so it won't be long before you come back running to me."

"Ouch. Now that hurt." Tristan feigned having a heart attack.

"Not as much when you told me you liked Beatrix," she pointed out.

"That was telling the truth, it wasn't supposed to hurt."

"Yes. It. Does."

"I'm telling the truth to you now, then. If you don't keep quiet the witches'll roast you alive."

;;,;;,;;,;;.;;,;;,;;,;;

Still, they got separated not ten minutes after. It actually pays to NOT let go of a prince's hand just to see how a chipmunk cracks a nut open. I suspect they'll have to figure out why Agatha helped them in the first place later than sooner. Then again, nobody's recognizable as a cat. I do wonder when that girl plans to tell them.

I know. Not my best, yet not my worst, either: But HEY! Tristan and Kiko have a place in this fanfic, too! I'm sorry, it's just this popped in my head: If anybody else were in this situation it would've made them look a bit unrealistic, too—so now you're thinking, "Why put Triko in it if it's that boring?" I had an idea for /Flowers/ but I had to cross it out. (It's too angsty.) I wanted to use the forest as a background. Its overall serenity just screams romance, no? Except that it's home to a few man-eating sloths or two, though it's okay, so long as the students succeed in hurting each other enough to get disqualified from the completely adult-supervised and safe game that judges that whoever's hurt the least or survived everything by sunrise the valedictorian of the batch and was rumored to be the same cause of death of a few students in the past.

The amount of sarcasm in the last sentence staggers me.

Anyway~Don't be confused. This chapter was something like meant to be Tedragatha, and then transformed into Triko, and was NOT a Hunger Games fanfic. I noticed the similarities, too—setting, running, nostalgic stuff and such—but that does not make it any MORE of a KatnissPeeta fluff.

So I was reading SGE again, and I was, "Tristan's a pretty good character. Who else could imitate somebody else's sword-fighting skills, anyway?" And he promised too much for me, so I had to hook him up with Kiko, who did remind me of a friend of mine haha (CURSE THE INEFFECTIVENESS OF ONOMATOPOIEA AS A DISPLAY OF HUMOROUS EXPRESSION THAN THE OTHERWISE POPULAR BUT UNTRUE 'lol')

I read the reviews. Laughed. Then read them again. The last one made me slap myself in the thigh to keep from rolling on the floor. Yes, I'm an asshole, and probably am the douchiest author ever to grace the earth. That and I have this annoying thing called school. Summer over here lasts 2 MONTHS, and covers most of April and May. We start school when some of YOU start summer. I actually had to multi-task this and my Economics project.

This was originally /Flowers/ 2, then I was like, "This doesn't even have flowers in it." And thus, /Walk in the Woods/ But I think next chapter'll be /Flowers/ I'll make a Humor chapter and an Angst one of it. You could do a lotta romantic stuff with flowers.

Personally, I like to keep Tristan blunt and Kiko talkative: They're their signature personalities to me now XD