Chapter 5

The world seems not the same

I woke up gasping, my heart pounding and limbs weak with adrenaline. Cold air hit me with a billow and I shivered, automatically hunching back into my bedcovers.

Don't tell me they've moved up from just breaking the heater.

'They' had: my room was freezing. For several minutes I just lay there miserably, curled up to my pillows and letting my heart calm itself down. That wasn't a normal dream—I couldn't remember what it was. The ones I couldn't remember were always related to my memories. Repression, Ishii had said it was; repression for the consciousness but not the subconscious. I couldn't argue.

Turning my face into the pillow, I closed my eyes and let myself breathe. I didn't remember the dream, but I thought that if I pushed—just a little—maybe I could remember some feelings.

I didn't remember anything but fear, and even then it felt like I only knew that because otherwise I wouldn't have woken up like I did. Fear and urgency. But that was all.

Dammit.

With a sigh I pushed myself up, wrapping my arms around myself as I slid out of bed and attempted a distraction by considering my mental timetable. I had an appointment with Ishii today; wonderful. That meant I had to dodge all his questions and allusions … chances were Aina or Yuudai had already reported the pranks, but Ishii was likely to make a bigger deal of it all than I wanted.

That morning had to have been the fastest I've ever showered and changed, and I was looking forward to physical therapy by the time I left my room, shivering. I didn't linger over breakfast; there was no point in giving the pranksters more opportunity than they already had when I didn't have anyone to eat with. Aina was out on deployment, Yuudai had worked late last night and was probably still in bed, and Chiyo would have already had breakfast.

At least Chiyo I still got to see, since, as I entered the gym, I spotted her beside a set of weights and realised she must be in charge of my physical therapy for today and not Kitano or one of the other nurses I'd been seeing more recently. My smile must have been relieved, because when she looked up she looked startled for a moment before returning it. My arctic-temperature room notwithstanding, it wasn't that bad a start to the day.

In retrospect I should have known it was only a matter of time before some idiot chose to do what one idiot that day did.

The gym, at this time of morning, was that comfortable place in-between empty and full, when there were just enough people around that the room didn't feel awkward and not enough for there to be contention over use of the equipment. Most of the time they never bothered me, and I basically ignored them. Until now.

I was finishing up with a few stretches beside the mats while Chiyo, sitting on a seat against the wall, scribbled a few last things down on my sheet. "You should be nearly done with PT," she said. "Cardio is fine, arm's holding well, sides aren't paining you." She looked up. "Doctor Kitano will have to clear you, but other than that …"

The slow smile was impossible to stop, and she actually gave me one back before looking down at the clipboard again to sign the page with a flourish.

"That's great," I exclaimed.

"Great," another, deeper voice agreed from behind me, and I whirled around to see a man standing on the edge of the mat, his eyes on me. I recognised him, but I didn't know his name—I just knew he was in the gym nearly as often as I was. He was shorter than me, but thicker, sturdier, with dark hair.

"That means you can spar with me," he continued, a slow grin crossing his face, his teeth flashing white. I resisted the shiver that ran down my spine.

"No, he can't," Chiyo objected. "He's not done yet, and he shouldn't push himself when he's so close to being cleared." She ripped off the form for my therapy and forced it into my hand. Reluctantly I submitted to her light shove on my arm and, picking up my gym bag, started to move mechanically away.

"Too bad," said the agent from behind me. "I heard that he turned pussy, but didn't want to believe it until I saw for myself."

I stopped short, my face burning, but didn't look around at a smattering of laughter from the others I hadn't realised were watching.

"Wataru," Chiyo hissed.

Obediently I took another step, but the agent's voice stopped me again, this time noticeably raised so I would hear it. "Guess I know he's just all washed up, now, don't I?"

It wasn't only my face burning, now. It was my whole head, throbbing with frustration and anger and my pounding heartbeat. I dropped my gym bag where I stood, letting the slip of paper flutter down on top of it, and turned around, stalking back toward the man. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Chiyo flinch and back away, but it was easy to ignore that and keep this—this upstartagent—in my sights.

"Get on the mats," I growled, and he took a quick, automatic step back onto them before forcing a smile.

"Not so much a pussy after all, eh?"

I didn't answer. I just strode past him, making a bee-line for the centre and ignoring that fact that just about all activity in the gym had stopped so the other grunts could watch.

Fine. Let them see. I was tired of being pranked and ridiculed. Let them have a taste of what I had to deal with every day, the fear that I lived with.

As long as you don't go nuts, part of me whispered.

We faced each other and I exhaled, balancing myself on the balls of my feet and trying to force my mind to pay attention instead of just seethe. He was shorter than me, but heavier and probably remembered all his forms to boot. I didn't particularly care.

I don't know what the signal to start was; I just knew that one minute there was silence as we sized each other up and the next there was motion. His fist lashed out and my arm came up to deflect it of its own accord, and then I stepped in, thrusting my open hand forward only for him to block me. It felt like punching a wall, jarring my whole arm and making my palm sting.

He gripped my wrist and yanked me forward as he turned, trying to pull me off my feet. My heart leapt and my other hand lashed out toward his face, my knee toward his groin; with a hiss he let go to block them both. I didn't try to resist the fall he'd pulled me into, ducking, rolling and coming up on my feet enough of a distance away to give me room to work with.

To my surprise I found my heart still pounding, but pounding with something different this time. I was still angry, but that was somehow distant, completely pushed aside in favour of the unwavering instinct. Practicing my forms had been difficult without something to guide me, but now I found all I needed was to have something to respond to.

My mind had forgotten. My body hadn't. It was exhilarating.

It took a moment before I realised that the reason my face felt so tight was because I was wearing a fierce grin. Slowly, a similar expression spread over the face of my opponent, and his eyes gleamed.

There was one last beat of stillness, and then, once again, we were both in motion. This time neither of us stopped. Even as it was happening, I couldn't remember what my actions were; we were too fast, and my mind had spent too long in convalescence for me to spare the thoughts to try and keep up consciously. And I wasn't as fit as I should've been, because some of the movements felt harder than I was subconsciously expecting them to be.

But I put it out of my head—I put it all out of my head—and just let myself move.

I don't know how long it went on for. It seemed like no time at all before I was panting, tired, having to measure my breaths with my actions. My opponent didn't seem to be weary at all.

Havetoendthis, I realised in some dim corner of my mind. And fast, or else he'd win just by outlasting me.

The grunt dodged a strike by dropping and sweeping his leg around, but I somersaulted over him. He tried to turn and meet me, but I was faster and I'd taken him by surprise—I blocked his clumsy blow with my elbow, striking his shoulder with my hand to collapse his arm and bend it back. A quick foot to the back of his knee put paid to any attempt to rise. With a grunt of pain he arched his back, trying to give his arm more slack, and without thinking I put him in a headlock.

He froze. It was impossible to miss, given how close I was to him and the fact that I had my forearm against the pulse-point in his neck. For a moment I froze too, feeling the quick beat and knowing that if I wanted—

I exhaled slowly and released him, stepping back. He leaned forward against the mat, one hand coming to his throat, and released a breath of his own.

For a moment I didn't look around. My head and heart still pounded, and my hands were shaking with adrenaline and a level of fatigue they just weren't used to. But despite all that, it was difficult to miss the dead silence in the gym.

It made me come back to reality with a stab of frustrated anger. Firsttheytrytohumiliateme,nowthey'resurprisedwhenIfightback?

Fuming, I whirled around and stalked off the mats, ignoring the way the agents scattered from my path. Chiyo, still near the seat, squeaked and backed away, her eyes widening. It should have made me feel guilty.

It just made me feel angrier.

Face so tight that it made my temples throb, I snatched up my gear and stormed out through the medical ward, the door slamming against the wall as I thrust it open. The bang made everyone in the vicinity jump, but I ignored it as I slapped the PT form down on the counter and turned, without waiting for a response from the wide-eyed nurse, toward Ishii's office.

He opened his door before I got there, holding his head and looking rather white. I didn't halt my stride toward him; he just paled a little more and quickly stepped back to let me in.

"What the hell do they want from me?" I demanded, throwing my gear down on the chair and whirling on him as he closed the door. "They're scared but they insist on pulling pranks and making my life hell? Am I the only one who's trying to make things different here?"

Someone coughed behind me and I froze. Oh no; don't tell me.

"Well," Sakaki said carefully, "and here I thought I would have to pull rank for you to be honest with me."

My face burned. It just figured that the one time I lost control, Sakaki was there to witness it. Damn damn damn—

Ishii cleared his throat. "Sakaki arrived home late last night, Wataru. He wanted to sit in on the beginning of your next session. I told him I was a little worried that you weren't telling me you'd been having trouble with the other agents."

I took a deep breath, and then another, my fists clenching. "Somehow," I said, and it still sounded like it was coming out through gritted teeth, "I think I've sent them back to being terrified."

The psychic approached me, directing me to my usual chair. "Why don't you tell us about it?"

Sakaki, I saw as I turned, was standing in the corner beside Ishii's desk, but as soon as he caught my eye I looked down, flushing again. "You probably already know all about it," I muttered.

"We know that Agents Nakamura and Hamasaki reported you were being targeted for some childish pranks, yes," Sakaki said mildly. "They both also said you insisted on not reporting it. May I ask why?"

I fell into the chair and put my face in my hands, rubbing it. "I didn't want to whine," I said, my voice muffled. "And I didn't want to prove that I needed to be protected by you. Or that I only got where I did because you knew my father."

"Have others said this of you?" His voice was still that mild tone, mild but with an undercurrent of command and … something else. I shrugged without lifting my head.

"Anderson's a good tutor but I'm pretty sure she's jealous I'm an executive hardly without trying. And the others …" I ran my fingers through my hair, straightening up with a bitter laugh. "I don't know what the others were thinking."

I took a breath and, before I could stop myself, kept going. "I just—what the hell do they want with me? I know what I did wrong; do they have to hold it over my head? It's like they're punishing me just because I used to be untouchable, and now I'm not so I'm safe, and that's stupid because we're all members of the same Team but they wouldn't stop—"

"And now they will?" Ishii asked, his expression sober. "There's a lot of fear out there, Wataru. What did you do?"

I shook my head violently. "Nothing they didn't want me to—except win. I just had a sparring match with one of the grunts." And I hadn't cooled down properly afterward, I remember with chagrin. I was going to regret that in a few hours.

"And you won," Ishii repeated, exchanging a look with Sakaki over my shoulder.

"I had him in a headlock," I mumbled and then added defensively, "I know why they were scared, but if they were they shouldn't have been taunting me all month to begin with."

"And you should not have given into them, Wataru," Sakaki said reproachfully. "You should have confronted them calmly or reported them. Either action would have proven you can maintain your composure without being weak, and that is all they needed to know."

I couldn't stop either the flinch or the flush. "I just didn't want to give them the satisfaction …" I trailed off, but the words sounded stupid and hollow, and I heard Sakaki sigh behind me. A moment later his hand fell on my head, making me jump.

"You're young," he said, "and cannot remember some of the hard lessons you learned in the past. But you must not do such a thing again, Wataru. You mustn't tempt fate. I fear we might not be able to bring you back the next time."

I blanched. When he put it like that it sounded like I'd done the stupidest thing in the world—let them get me so frustrated and angry that I almost couldn't help but lose control. That wasn't good for anyone.

"And rest assured," he added, "those responsible will be dealt with. You have my word on that."

The cold, steely undertone in his voice made me shiver, but I nodded. It was the first time I'd ever heard that particular tone from him, but it was warranted. The other agents had been playing with fire by taunting me.

But Uncle Sakaki's right too, I thought miserably. I let them control me. I couldn't afford to let anyone or anything control me. Not like that. Not the agents and not … not pokémon either.

"Now." Sakaki patted my shoulder, pulling me away from that important, somehow tantalising thought. "I have some other duties I must attend to. Wataru, I expect you to tell Doctor Ishii everything you've been avoiding in the past few weeks, is that understood? We cannot solve the problems you've been having unless we know what they are."

I nodded a second time, wordlessly. He patted my shoulder again and I felt him moving around the chair toward the door.

"I'm sorry I've been such a nuisance," I said suddenly, peering up at him through my fringe. He paused beside the chair and gave me a reassuring smile.

"I know, Wataru."

Then he left, closing the door quietly behind him, and I took a deep breath, turning back to Ishii. Right. Time to make things better.

I really, really wish I'd stopped to cool down yesterday, I thought, wincing as my stride pulled uncomfortably at my calf-muscles. Hours of talking to Ishii over lunch and then having to head to a tutoring lesson straight after had left me as stiff as anything before I'd slept for the night. I didn't think I was likely to forget to cool down properly again; it was taking effort to resist the urge to limp.

Pushing open the doors to the mess hall, I entered without looking around, and maybe that's why I didn't notice the looks at first—that and the fact that the noise-level didn't dramatically decrease. It wasn't until I turned around with my tray in hand that I realised I was getting nearly as many glances as I had when I first came to the mess hall, and it made me stop and blink for a moment.

Then I forced myself to take a step, ignoring the attention as I made my way to my usual table. Yuudai looked up first and growled censure at someone across from him, and as they noticed I was approaching the agents fell silent.

"Good morning," Yuudai said, falsely cheerful.

"Is it?" I asked. "I hadn't noticed."

Oh yes, those were definite winces going around the table there; even Yuudai did it, even though he was the only one who didn't look away. I had to wonder how many of them had been reprimanded.

A pang of guilt made me give in and I smiled at him reassuringly as I sat. "I'm all right."

I was glad I'd done so a moment later, when he looked relieved. Even so, the conversation at the table was quieter than usual and he was the only one to address anything at me at all. I didn't mind, rather relieved myself, actually, that at least one person hadn't gone back to square one.

"I heard what happened," he said in a low voice when the rest of the table was occupied with their own chatter. "Frankly I'd have done the same thing. They earned it, eh?"

"Maybe," I said quietly, and then voiced an observation I'd made at the beginning of the meal that had made my stomach sink. "But I don't know if Chiyo agrees. She's sitting on the other side of the room."

Yuudai grimaced. "Yes, well …"

I stared at the nurse's back past his shoulder as I took a mouthful of rice, my brow furrowed slightly in consideration. Abruptly I made a decision and put my chopsticks down with a clack, pushing myself to my feet.

Yuudai looked startled but didn't stop me as I made my way through the tables toward Chiyo's, firmly telling my nervous stomach it could damn well leave me alone or else. She knew I was coming before I got there; I saw one of her table-mates lean over to whisper it to her.

"Chiyo?" I asked when I reached her, ignoring her tense back. She looked up. "I apologise," I said, if not loudly then clearly, "for frightening you yesterday morning." And then I bowed.

She stared, eyes wide and cheeks a little bit red, and took a minute or two to answer. "I—th—thank you," she stammered.

I straightened and gave her a smile, and then turned to head back to my table, calm and ignoring the flurry of whispers and the buzz of adrenaline. I didn't stop to apologise to anyone else, even though there were one or two in the hall who had been in the gym. She was the only one who'd earned the right to one.

When I sat down at the table it was silent, but Yuudai was hiding a grin behind his hand and I nodded at him. Then, clearing his throat, Rafael held out a condiment bottle. "Soy sauce, Wa—Sir?"

Graciously I accepted.

Anderson looked at me measuringly as I entered the office; I nearly stopped in astonishment. Was that actually an expression not filled with disdain that I saw on her face?

"Sit down," she said, her voice not quite as flat as it should have been, and I obeyed, a rather unnerved but hiding it. Instead of launching straight into my lesson she leaned on the desk with her elbows and clasped her hands, staring at me over them.

Oh yes, now I was worried. What's happened?

"You should have told me the other agents were stopping you from getting your study resources."

This time her tone was accusing and irritable, and I actually felt myself relax a little. "And give you more ammunition?" I asked sardonically, meeting her eyes squarely and not even trying to hide the fact that she didn't like me. It hadn't exactly worked out so well with the others, had it?

She rolled her eyes, her lip curling. "You idiot. You not being able to study not only puts everyone on base at risk when you do something stupid with the wrong information, but it makes me look bad. I don't like you, Himura, but I'll be damned if I let you pull down my reputation by being a fool or an idiot with a martyr complex."

I flushed, not because of the insult but because it was true. If only I'd said something to someone things wouldn't have gotten as far as they did. And Anderson, for all her snideness and jealousy, never had done anything to sabotage my prospects; I'd known that even before.

She pointed at a sheaf of paper on the side of the desk. "Pop quiz. You've got two hours. Get started, and if you don't finish it all you're getting extra homework tonight. If you do then maybe you'll actually learn to combine speed and quality at once."

I still hate her, I decided, reaching for the papers and my pen.

With a sigh I flopped back onto my back, covering my face with my hands. "I hate statistics."

"It's a good thing you're not in administration, then," Yuudai answered with a laugh. "Sometimes our job is nothing but statistics."

"Remind me not to go anywhere near your job."

"That's what we grunts are for," he said implacably, and I heard the sound of his handheld computer clatter to the desk. "I think we're done for the day. I've seen my daughter do the same thing when she's ready to stop doing her homework, and I can never get anything out of her afterward."

Chagrined, I shifted my hands so I could crane my head to see him. "You're comparing me to an eight-year-old?"

"Well," he said, his expression carefully blank, "there are some similarities. The pretty hair, for one …"

Without thinking about it I snatched up my pillow and threw it at him, and just caught a glimpse of his surprised expression before it hit him in the face. I laughed, leaning back on my elbows, while the pillow dropped into his hands. A moment later he joined me, though he still sounded rather startled.

"Maybe I'm the one who should be sending a letter to your wife," I teased. "A warning letter."

His returning smile was troubled. I ignored it; it happened from time to time, even with Yuudai and Aina—and especially Chiyo—when I did something unexpected. "I'm not entirely sure she'd mind," he said in a tone of someone who was just talking for the sake of it without paying attention to what he was saying—something Yuudai did often. "She's into those kinds of books where—" And then stopped, flushed and cleared his throat. "Er. Never mind."

I just snorted, half sure I knew what he was referring to and half not sure I wanted to know. "Well, if you're going to abandon me I think I might head to the gym."

"Or we can see if Aina made it home on time," Yuudai suggested instead. "She and her team were due to come in today."

Without meaning to I straightened, blinking. "She was? How do you know that?"

Swivelling around on my desk-chair, he gestured me over to the computer so I could see what he was doing. Access was restricted to me, but Yuudai's being an administrator meant there almost wasn't anything on there that he couldn't see anyway.

"Look. Administrators—and executives—can see when agents check in and their expected return times. Aina's team lead checked in two days ago with an expected completion date." He pointed on the screen at the line indicating the call and then clicked somewhere else with the mouse.

"I haven't seen any of this," I murmured, leaning on the side of the desk. "I can see when teams come in?"

He shrugged. "Teams can come in and not be registered in the system until after their paperwork has been filed, which can be a few hours, but … yes. Here, let me show you."

Computer work wasn't exactly my specialty and the way the system was laid out was, at first, confusing given I knew nothing about it, but after a few minutes I started to catch on and could navigate the team lists myself. The first one Yuudai showed me was Rafael's, since I'd recognise the name.

It was … oddly fascinating. Few people were willing to outright introduce themselves to me, so any names I'd gleamed had been incidental (or outright wrong, thanks to a few pranksters), but now I had concrete names to give to faces I recognise. I could see what they were doing, how well they did it, when they returned from missions and in what condition. For the first time I felt like I wasn't just scrabbling at straws—here was something I couldknow. Not just about the process; I already knew that, or most of it. This let me see the process in action.

Soon, I told myself. Chiyo had said 'soon'. True, that had been a few days ago now, but it was still soon.

Abruptly Yuudai clapped me on the shoulder, pointing at the screen. "Here. Look here."

It took me a few moments to respond because the action had startled me so much. I think he felt me jump, because he gave me a chagrined sidelong look a moment later. "Er. Sorry."

I shook my head, resisting the urge to smile. That had been … companionable. Following where his finger pointed, I grinned. "She got in twenty-three minutes ago."

"That's just when the page was updated," Yuudai pointed out. "She's probably been here for a few hours by now. Asleep, I imagine; that's all field agents ever want to do the instant they get home. Forget the paperwork, they say—just let them sleep."

He sounded so longsuffering that I laughed as I logged out. "Well, we'd better let her, then. I'm going to go to the gym; want to come?"

"No. If they've just had a team come in the boys at admin could probably use the extra hand. I'll see you tomorrow, Wataru."

"Tomorrow," I echoed as he bowed slightly and left. I stood and stretched, glancing at the clock. It was after dinner, but the gym would still be open. I wasn't the only insomniac in the Team. Well, that and some agents' hours just didn't allow them the daylight to spend. Underground as we were, what was the difference?

I liked the gym at this time of night, actually. It was quieter than usual, with only one or two other agents inside, and they never bothered me. I barely looked around before making for the bench against the wall, pulling off my shoes. I preferred to feel the mats under my feet while I tried to work through my forms.

After the initial frustration of being backed into the fight had blown over I'd actually found myself hoping that maybe it had broken something in my head that would let me recall the movements with more ease. No such luck; it still felt like pulling teeth, and I got them mixed around, and wrong, and that's if I remembered them at all.

Still, it was something to focus on, and when I remembered the feeling of … empowerment, of knowing what to do, it made it worthwhile. It made the hours go fast.

So it felt like a shock when, sometime I don't know how long after I'd started, someone cleared their throat behind me. I jerked a little, my breath catching, and then exhaled slowly to release the adrenaline and turned.

It was the grunt I had fought last week. He looked rather sheepish, but also rather anticipatory, as he bowed. Not a malicious kind of anticipation … more like the expression he'd worn when he first started to fight in earnest. A curiosity, almost. "Sir. Thought you looked like you could use some help. Sir."

"Do you know anything about my forms, Agent?" I asked, ignoring the 'sirs' for now.

He snorted. "Fuck no. But you sure do." Taking a step onto the mat, he sidled around me until we were facing each other again, near enough that we were both within reach; I turned to keep him in sight.

"Say if I were to do this …" Abruptly he lashed out toward my face; instinctively my arm came up to deflect the blow, and I jerked before I managed to curb the urge to step in and retaliate. He just grinned. "Yeah, you'd go like that. So if I did this …"

This time he pivoted, dropping, his leg sweeping out. I didn't just jump—I somersaulted, putting me some feet to his side and near his back. He was ready, completing the circle so he could block my strike to the back of his neck and aim a blow at my solar plexus which I dodged by stepping back.

His eyes gleamed, and to my surprise I found myself smiling.

Clearing he throat, he stood up and stepped back. "Right," he said briskly, voice gruff. "No point in starting in the middle. Basic techniques are usually best met with basic techniques. So starting with the Form One of the style—"

I settled back into a neutral form, limbs loose, weight evenly distributed, let his voice wash over me, my smile broadening.

This was better. This was much better.

Standing in front of the only wooden door the base probably had, I took a deep breath and released it slowly. It wasn't as if I'd never spoken to Sakaki before.

It was just that this was the first time I'd been to his office. It was rather nerve-wracking.

It's also making me miss saying hello to Aina, thought a part of my mind grumpily, but I squashed it. I'd have plenty of time to say hello to Aina at lunch or dinner.

Absently straightening my uniform—ridiculous, since he'd just recently seen me in my dirty gym clothes—I knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Obediently I turned the handle and slipped smoothly in, shutting the door behind me. When I turned I had to pause for a moment, just near enough to sense the timber at my back, so I could take the office in with a quick gaze. It certainly wasn't anything like any other room on the base, even the rooms the executives got: huge, carpeted, with wood-panelled walls and a polished, equally huge desk facing the entrance. There was a smaller, more intimate table beside it, laid with breakfast cutlery.

"Big, isn't it?"

I managed to suppress the twitch and turned to see Sakaki beside a small bar, watching me with an amused gleam in his eyes.

"It is," I admitted.

"I probably don't need all the space," he said idly. "But vanity isn't too bad a vice to have, I suppose."

"You, Sir? Vain?" I said dryly.

He just chuckled, gesturing me toward the smaller table, already laid with steaming food. I drew his chair out for him as I passed, but he waved me on and sat of his own accord, steepling his hands to study me. I looked back, entirely calm and waiting for me to speak. Last time I'd been raging; let him see that wasn't my only setting.

At last he stirred and offered me a drink from the wine bottle.

"Isn't it a little early?" I asked uncertainly.

He laughed and withdrew it, pouring a bit for himself. "Likely it is. Another vice, you could say. But as you disapprove, I'll only have one glass, shall I?" He smiled at me, half teasing.

"If you say so, Sir," I said dryly. Who was I to argue, really? He was the Boss.

"And, of course," he continued, shifting the bottle from his glass to mine despite my words, "if I can have only one, so can you."

"Is that an order?" I asked, half rueful, half uncertain.

"I thought you would appreciate the celebration," he said benignly and with a faint smile, pulling the bottle back after my class half-full. "This morning Doctor Kitano gave permission to have you cleared for light duty. I felt you would be more interested in observing the pokémon training more than the paperwork, eh?"

I really only heard up to the point he said 'cleared for active duty'; the words made my heart pound with startled excitement and I drew in a sharp breath, half intending to say something without knowing what. I wound up gaping.

Sakaki chuckled and I flushed, but a grin spread over my face nonetheless. "I—really?" Chiyo had said it would be soon, but it had still seemed as if it was something that would always be 'just a little longer'.

"Really," Sakaki said, lifting his glass at me and looking far too amused. Hastily I reached for my own to follow suit, still wearing a silly grin and unable to care. "Obviously, you will only observe pokémon training at first, and there is paperwork you will need to help with, but between your tutoring and your health I fully expect you'll pick things up quickly. Congratulations, Wataru."

"Thank you, Sir," I said, feeling warm on the inside and not bothering to try and control it. Finally I could start earning my keep and proving myself to the other agents as a whole, instead of just individually.

We both drank, and as Sakaki set down his glass he said, "Now then. Shall we eat?"

It sounded like a good idea to me.

I was still smiling at nothing and at odd intervals by the time I left Sakaki's office. I hadn't had physical therapy that morning, and was instead due to start official training with Takeshi—the man who'd challenged me those days ago. It wasn't going to be easy; he worked me hard and left me exhausted, and now he had my measure tended to win our spars by virtue of endurance if not skill, but I was glad. It felt like I could improve with him.

I'd actually started to head back to my room to collect my gym clothes and go directly to the gym, but then I passed the corridor leading to Inventory and stopped. I remembered seeing Aina assigned to Inventory this morning when we rifled through the admins' database last night; Yuudai had said that sometimes field agents were assigned to it to let them wind down after a mission. (He'd said it with a frown, too, but hadn't explained just what the frown was for.)

Changing my mind, I turned down the corridor; I could at least give one of my friends the news before lunch! Even so, it took a little while before I found her sequestered in one of the furthest, coldest rooms in the wing; I was almost shivering by then.

"How can you stand it in here?" I grumbled as I came through the open door. She jumped at the suddenness of my voice, then laughed a little and turned back to the box she was trying to wedge onto the top shelf.

"It's not so cold once you've worked up a sweat."

"Still cold, though." I couldn't muster the need to sound disgruntled; if anything I sounded happy about it. Okay, no more waiting. "I've been cleared for light duty."

She exclaimed wordlessly, got the box in place and finally turned, brushing her hair out of her face and grinning. "When did this happen?"

I grinned back, almost having to struggle not to bounce on my toes. "This morning. I just came back from breakfast with the Boss. He said I could observe the pokémon training starting tomorrow afternoon, after training; we're downgrading Anderson's tutoring lessons to twice a week."

"Fantastic." Aina positively beamed, reaching out as if to hug me or pat me on the arm before faltering. "Oh, er … S- Sir?"

Her tone was tentative, questioning, and from the look on her face the words sounded as odd to her, now, as they always had to me.

"Not Sir," I said, losing some of the edge in my smile, my stomach twisting a little. "I'm not there yet, Aina."

"But you're on the way," she said, managing a flickering smile that was half proud and half unsure.

"So? You don't need to start siring me until I do."

She stared for a moment, not in disbelief as much as thoughtfulness, and then her smile firmed, small and somehow appreciative. "Right. Wataru."

"That's better." I threw her a crooked grin of my own. "Now, I have to go start my 'official' training. I just thought I'd stop by to tell you that and welcome you back to base before I did."

Her smile lingered. "Thank you. I'll be sure not to tell Yuudai or Ichigo before you get to lunch."

"If they don't already know," I said dryly. Yuudai was administration and may have already heard I was being put back on duty, and Ichigo seemed to overhear everything. "See you later."

"See you."

Then I turned and left, absently wondering at that last smile she'd given me.