(Prologue: ?)

Before I started running, I would've thought myself an ordinary man.

I was just me. Born in Onett, raised in the Third Residential District. I never thought I was born to be anything important, even if my position suggested otherwise. That's because I knew there were always greater powers at work, always bigger fish, sharks, ready to engulf anything in their path.

My shark is the biggest beast of all. He's wealthy, he's powerful, controlling all he surveys. Every little thing is his, planned out to perfection. That's why there is nothing I can do, nothing that even the bravest of men can do, except run. Run like hell, because if I'm seen out here, well. Anyone could be on his side. With the right amount of money, anyone could talk.

I escaped his prison. That's a first, that's a miracle. Few beat the shark once. But my odds would have to be astronomical if I can evade him once again. He's sharp, clever; he'll have noticed my absence by now. It's only a matter of time before he catches up.

And so, I close my eyes and keep running.

The icy north winds scorch my skin, and I know it's going to be a terrible way to civilization. I haven't eaten in days, save for the occasional blackberry. Hunger roars in my stomach, threatening to overcome me, but I cannot stop. I move onwards, ploughing over relentless terra firma.

I push through a bristling hedge. It's the dead of night, yet I cannot sleep, I can only advance. The moon glows like a cold beacon in the sky, fading in and out under the increasingly rapid clouds. What will I do when I get to a village? I haven't planned that far ahead yet. All I know is I am scared and I must run.

Before I started running, I was someone people looked up to. I guided them through their most difficult years. I showed them the path toward the light.

I was a younger man then. Now I am old; I feel so very old as my legs burn, my limbs flail, my throat sears, running. Still running. Always running. Everything I had, torn away by one man, and I am not the first, nor will I be the last. Will I be yet another smear, added to his list of crimes? Will the demons of hell add another forty lashings for my passing? Or will I be the one to send him into the flames?

All empires fall, I tell myself through gritted teeth. I just need to be out of the way when they do. Because he won't go down without a fight.

For now, his city rises out of the mud and the mire. His skyscrapers stand tall. But I will live to see them burn, I can promise myself that much. So long as I keep on running.

I keep on running from Porky Minch.

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~~o00o~~

Chapter 13: Calm Like You

(Ness)

~~o00o~~

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For a few seconds when I wake, I'm the happiest person in the world.

Lucas is beside me. The covers are warm. There's even the smell of breakfast ham filling the room. But then, yesterday comes back to me like a death omen; the Face, the Future Human, the grave — the blank grave...

I choose to forgo those thoughts for now. It's no good thinking like a crackpot when about a million things are trying to kill me. I shut my eyes again, intending to perhaps drift off, but Lucas stirs.

"Good morning," I whisper.

"Ness?" He looks at me, bleary-eyed. "What're you doing here?"

"I don't know," I say, grinning. "It's my bed."

"Oh… I must've been delirious and fallen in. Thanks to the head injuries," he adds, as if that makes it truer. I laugh. He's lying, but I don't mind. It was probably cold and lonely over on his side of the room, and truth be told, I liked having him beside me.

"I'm tired," I say through a massive yawn. "Can we play truant? Sleep for the rest of our lives?"

"Serves you right for taking a midnight stroll." Lucas socks me in the arm. "And look at you, you are filthy!"

"I'll bathe later. Probably."

"You will," Lucas decides. "Or I'll avoid you forever."

I respond by getting Lucas into a headlock. He yelps, trying to bat my arms away, but it's futile. I cackle, pinning him down, his face awfully close to mine—

Play fights with your friend? Are you sure you are not a sodomite?

I freeze, my pulse suddenly raising. Of course not! It's just platonic, that's all. I ignore Buttercup's cruel tone. But then, the Face's awful visage comes into my head—

Lucas senses my loosened grip, and he wriggles out of the headlock, turning pink with indignation.

"That's not fair!"

"Lucas?"

"What now?"

"How do I be calm like you?"

"Hm?" Lucas's indignant expression fades. "What do you mean?"

"Yesterday in the forest, I was terrified." I get out of bed, not wanting to meet his eyes. "You were so calm, like nothing could trouble you. How do I be like that?"

"Don't be silly," Lucas mumbles. "You don't have to be like me, You are fine the way you are—"

"But how am I supposed to keep you safe from Future Humans if I'm scared of everything?"

"Scared is good," Lucas says, coming to my side. "It's needed for survival. If you're scared, you have a flight or fight response, you have a much better chance of staying alive. You're just right the way you are, and I mean that."

Butterflies surge from a hidden pocket in my stomach. "Lucas…"

"We should go down to breakfast." He pats me on the back, heading towards the door.

Breakfast. So ordinary. Ordinary seems strange after last night, after yesterday.

"All right," I say, enthusiastic regardless. "It's ham today!"

Unfortunately, when we get downstairs, it turns out there is no ham. Instead, there are what looks at a distance to be dead rats sitting in the trays.

"Ham's all gone," snarls the server when we ask. "It's scrambled egg."

"How lovely," I say, despite wanting to begin a long tirade about how we should boycott the school for not cooking enough ham. The portions resemble rotting flesh, but I decide not to complain, given the server has direct access to the kitchen knives. I notice Toon Link standing by our table, miming something dramatic. Villager laughs along, Red grumpily eating his porridge. It's a relief to see some normality.

"Where have you two been?" Villager asks, eyeing our meals with suspicion. "You are filthy."

"Outside," I say vaguely, remembering Villager's concerns about the grave. "How did you sleep?"

"Have a guess," Toon Link groans.

"I hope your insomnia goes away soon," I say, patting him on the back.

"Actually," Red pipes up. "Insomnia doesn't just go away. It's a chronic condition."

"Thanks for the advice," Toon Link grumbles, taking a bite out of his ham. I eye it with envy, looking down at my scrambled egg, which is now oscillating in a most suspicious manner.

"What class d'you have first?" Villager asks.

"We have Sport," Red says.

Lucas groans, and I remember his injuries. "We should take ill."

"Agreed." Toon Link gives a vigorous nod. "I must practice my lines. I signed up for that play."

"What is the play going to be?"

"He robs from the rich, gives to the poor…" Toon Link mimes firing a bow. "Ye great olde legend of Robin Hood!"

"Oh, really?" Villager leans in. "Which part is yours?"

"Maid Marian, of course."

I laugh. Villager stares, eyes wide.

"Are you trying to get arrested?"

"Your faces!" Toon Link laughs. "Of course not. I'm Little John."

"Ah," Villager grins. "That makes more sense."

"Shush, you." Toon Link bats his face. "You are shorter than me."

"I'd pay good money to see you as Maid Marian, though," Villager muses. "Imagine, Toon Link in drag."

"Interesting aspiration you have there," Toon Link says, taking another bite out of his ham.

"No!" Villager turns beet red. "It's not an aspiration, I was just — agh!"

The clock chimes for lessons, and I stand, having not even touched the egg, which has melted into a gelatinous heap.

"See you all later, then. I think we've got Double History-"

"What fun." Villager grits his teeth. "I cannot wait to analyse more sources. Or guess whether a bone is from the fifth or sixth century."

Toon Link frowns. "History is all right, isn't it?"

"Yes, but being next to Zelda and Link isn't."

"Oh wow!" Toon Link gasps. "He really has moved on! Good morning, ladies, Villager's back on the market—"

"Did I not say in the woods—"

But Toon Link cuts him off. "See you around, short stuff!" He swaggers in the direction of the theatre room, and Villager rolls his eyes.

"Yes, see you." Villager turns to me, lowering his voice. "And Ness, you all right after yesterday's, uh, complication?"

"Yes, thank you." I redden, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"All right, good, good. Okay, see you later."

"Yes, see you."

Lucas and I leave him, walking towards Shulk's classroom. It's one of those days when we're not feeling masculine enough for Sport, or perhaps we're just overwrought by terror from all these things trying to kill us. Whatever the case, we're suffering terribly, I think, so we sneak into the art room to work on our paintings. Shulk is, of course, the only one inside.

He looks up upon seeing us. "Ah, boys! Here for some extra study, I presume? Wii Fit Trainer said you were doing rugby at the moment... a dreadful sport, in my opinion. I skipped it at your age as well, those were simpler days, back when Professor Dickson was teaching, and—"

"Good to see you, Professor," Lucas says before Shulk can tell us his entire life story. "Do you have any more newspaper headlines?"

"But Lucas, weren't you mid-painting?"

"I just want to keep up to date." Lucas's eyes betray his light tone, and I shift nearer to him in understanding. The newspapers have information on Tazmily. I feel a twinge of guilt, like it's somehow my fault that Onett is destroying his village.

"I've got plenty here somewhere..." Shulk digs around in a rather cluttered drawer. "I've been collecting some for our lesson this afternoon... I don't actually read them, y'know, it's all a load of propaganda, but... aha! Here they are."

"Where do you get them from?" I ask, taking them. A giant advert for PorkyCarriage hire blares in my face.

"I take out a subscription." Shulk waves a hand, distractedly sliding the drawer shut. "It's delivered twice a day from Onett. It comes with the rest of my mail, along with Xenoblade Today, oh, and Artist Monthly, and—"

"Wait a minute," Lucas says sharply. "If Onett is quarantined, how does all this mail get delivered?"

"Yes, good point," I say. "I've been getting letters from home. If the virus has shut everything down…"

"Ow!" Shulk winces, having accidentally trapped his hand in the drawer. "I mean, uh — that's not my area, boys. Ask Professor Rosalina, she's the science teacher. Perhaps the envelopes are virus-proof?"

Lucas's mouth thins. I'm sure he's considering the scientific improbabilities of that statement.

"Anyway," Shulk continues obliviously, wrenching out his sore hand and turning toward the door. "Professor Ryu said he had to tell me something about disap— I mean, about uh, taxes! So, don't destroy my art room, please."

"Thank you," Lucas says, and Shulk disappears all too hastily. I shut the door in case of intrusion, and Lucas sets up our canvases. I like to watch him paint, he does it with such ease and precision, every stroke so masterfully planned out. He builds up layers of colours to wonderful effect.

The art room is a state, but it's characterful. Works by past students cover the walls, while several coloured splatters coat the floor. I remember causing one of them myself; I had been taking a tube of yellow paint across the room, but I hadn't noticed the loose lid, and I left a sunflower-hued trail across the ground. To my surprise, Shulk hailed it as a masterstroke, a political message about the futility of life. Artists are odd like that.

I was a rather dreadful at first. I only signed up to study Art because of Lucas. But I suppose I've improved somewhat, I can mix colours properly now, I can paint without dripping all over the canvas, and, with Lucas's help, I finally understood how to create some perspective. I've become passable, which is an achievement in my books. If only Father saw it the same way. He's always wanted perfection, and besides, he's never liked creative subjects…

I'm sitting in the dining room, Mother and Father opposite me. A single sheet of paper is unfurled on the table. Options Form, it reads. Select three from the list.

"So, then." Father snatches the document away, withdrawing a fountain pen from his pocket. "Let's run through this one last time."

"Please," I interrupt, but he cuts me off.

"You will do Business Studies. And History. Then, you may choose between Latin or Geography."

"I don't want to take Latin or Geography."

"But you must." He glares across the table. "Those are the subjects that are best for you."

"Why not music? I can play the harp, cannot I?"

"Music?" He looks appalled. "Where do you think that'll get you? I'll tell you, nowhere. I cannot have my son, the heir of this business, taking useless subjects like music."

"I like it. It's fun."

"For hell's sake, Ness!" Father stands, and there's a crash as he slams his fist against the wood. I shouldn't have tested him, he's been in a horrible mood since the mining explosion. "I'm trying to do the absolute best for you. I'm trying to do everything in my power to give you the future that you want. You don't go to school to have fun."

"I'm sorry," I murmur.

"Sorry doesn't cover this, Ness. You've been so ungrateful lately. Disobedient and ungrateful."

"I'll do geography," I say, blinking back my prickling eyes.

"Good." Father sits back down. "You'd damn well better, Ness. And I expect As. Straight As."

"I know," I say, staring into my lap.

There's a pause as he angrily writes the subjects on the form. I can only watch as he folds it, inserting it into an envelope, sealing it away. He casts it into a pile on the table, glancing back up, seeing my stricken face.

"What the hell are you looking like that for?"

My lower lip trembles.

"For goodness' sake, you are not going to cry again, are you? I did not raise a girl. Get out of my sight, go pull yourself together. Go on! Do something useful, for once."

I run, blinking back tears. I catch a glimpse of Tracy scrubbing the floor, looking utterly despondent. I hate my father. I hate him so, so much. I sprint into my bedroom, trying to keep myself in order, Father's words still ringing in my ears. It's my fault. If only I was better…

I throw myself onto my bed, but there's a crunch. A piece of paper. I pick it up, my hands shaking.

Ness,

I don't really know what to say here. I've had a lot of dealings with Porky this summer, and a lot of other trouble, as well. There are some things I need to tell you at some point, personal things, but I don't think I'm quite ready yet. I hope you can understand that.

The flapjacks and cookies were delicious, and so lovely, and they really helped with everything that's been happening. Thank you so much for sending them. For my school subjects, I'm going to pick Art, Business, and History. I hope it's not too late for your Father to let you choose, because I think you deserve to do what you want. I hope we're in the same classes together.

Your best friend,

Lucas.

As I read his words, relief washes over me. I breathe, forgetting about all my problems with Father, because this is a much bigger weight off my shoulders. I'd thought — I don't know what I'd thought — I thought something terrible had happened. I'd given up writing, even. Five weeks of letters with nothing back... Thank the heavens he's okay.

I instantly set about writing a reply, and when it's done, I sneak into Father's office for an envelope. Stealing is a tricky business, but I know the marks of a good thief: leave everything as it was before, leave no traces behind. It's instinctive at this point; taking from Father's office is the one way I can always beat him. I know to replace what was taken with something of similar proportions so it may go undetected, at least for a while. Though, as I slide out an envelope and turn towards the door, there is a horrible surprise. Mother's brown eyes, boring into mine.

But she smiles. She sweeps in, taking the letter from my hand, folding it neatly into the envelope.

"For Lucas?"

"Yes," I say, uncertain.

She withdraws another envelope from her pocket. I recognise it as the options form, and I eye it with trepidation. Her voice is barely audible as she says, "Change it."

"But," I say, faltering. "Father—"

"Don't tell him. I'll take the blame."

"Really?"

She hesitates, as though she wants to say something more. But instead, she smiles, giving me a one-armed hug. "Really."

"Thank you!" I say, running through the hallway, back into my bedroom. I tear the form open, and I reread Lucas's letter.

I'm going to pick Art.

How hard can it be? I've never painted before, but Lucas can teach me. A thrill of rebellion courses through me as I change the form. Once I'm done, I practically throw it into Mother's hands.

"Good luck," she says.

"Thank you!"

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I stand back, looking at my finished painting. Drawings of envelopes surround the pig's head now. They encircle him, ensnaring him. I smile. I'm actually rather pleased with it. Lucas looks over at my finished work.

"That's really good. I like it."

"Thank you. I like it too."

I look over to Lucas's masterpiece. The buildings are taller and thornier-looking now.

"Y'know, Ness." Lucas smiles genuinely at me. "Yours is better than mine."

"What, mine? This thing?" I'm taken aback by the sudden praise.

"It's interesting."

"Well, thank you, but—"

I'm interrupted by the clock chiming for the next lesson, and oh, Hell, it's Mathematics for me. I notice Lucas gathering up all of the newspaper headlines, possibly to read over later. I make a mental note to read them with him.

One long traverse down the mathematics corridor later, I sit down next to Villager, and curse everything, I'd also forgotten about being mathematically illiterate.

"All right!" Marth appears. "Since none of you understood Differential Calculus except Ness, we are going to come back to that again at the end of the term. For now, we shall drastically move onto our next topic, which will be equations of perpendicular lines on graphs…"

I sigh, burying my head in my arms. There's not even any point in listening. A worksheet is given out.

"D'you understand it?" Villager asks.

"We can try guessing," I say weakly. "It worked last time."

Villager laughs. "C'mon Ness, it's okay. We can do this."

"But I'm so tired…."

"Tired? Howcome?"

"I went out into the forest last night."

"You did what?" Villager is momentarily stunned. "You didn't look at the grave, did you?"

I squirm.

"Ness!"

"Villager!" Marth looks over, irritated. "Keep it down, please."

"Sorry, Professor." Villager drops his voice lower. "But seriously? Ness, I told you, that's dangerous."

"I know, I know—"

"And in the dead of night?"

"I know," I groan. "I know I'm reckless and stupid, and all of that—"

"I didn't say that."

"You may as well have done."

"What is wrong with you, Ness?" Villager folds his arms, looking thoroughly put out. "You've not been yourself lately, even since before we saw the grave."

"Nothing's wrong with me."

"You can tell me, you know. I am your friend."

"It's a long story," I manage. "I'm overcoming it. Can we talk about something else?"

"Well, okay," Villager sighs. "What did the grave say?"

"Nothing."

"Ness, please, you have to talk, you have to tell me these things—"

"I am! It said nothing. It was blank. Other than the part we'd already read."

"How can that be right?"

"I don't know."

But Villager perks up. "Don't you see, this is actually a good thing?"

"What? What is good?"

"The grave being blank!"

I wrack my brains. "How is that good in any way?"

"Well, your death isn't predetermined. You could die at any time."

"That's not very reassuring!"

"That sounded a lot better in my head," Villager admits, grimacing.

"Boys!" Marth comes over again, looking stern. "I assume, from the continued chatter, that you've finished the worksheet?"

"We were discussing how to begin it," Villager lies.

"Ah, my apologies. I'll explain… it's actually quite simple..."

But one explanation later, I still don't understand. Oh well.

"I'm glad," Villager continues, turning back to me. "Glad that you're going to be, well. Safe."

"I'm glad you are not panicking," I say. I'd thought he was going to lambast me.

"Oh, I'm panicking!" Villager exclaims. "A gravestone with my friends' names on it? That's really, really creepy." If only he knew about all the other creepy things going on. "I'm surprised you're not more panicked," he adds as an afterthought.

"I am, well, scared," I mutter.

"Well, keep yourself together," Villager consoles, patting me on the back. "If I'd known we'd be talking about this when I first met you..."

"It's not too late to replace me."

"I wouldn't do that," Villager says.

"I know."

There's a small silence. Once again, I'm not used to discussing serious subjects with Villager, but it seems that this is going to be one of many changes we undergo this term. It's impossible to avoid dark topics when we're practically drowning in them.

"I give up," Villager says, and I only realise what he's talking about when he closes his mathematics book.

"Same." I follow suit. "We can cram before the exam."

After the lesson, I ask Marth when the mathematics competition is, and it's next Wednesday, the same day as Bayonetta's party. My stomach soars when I remember it's time for lunch, but I'm intercepted by Rosalina.

"I've got a letter for you," she says kindly, when I'm sitting in her office.

Ness,

You are right — you are the embarrassing one. I'm glad Lucas is faring well, though. All my many, many friends are faring well as well.

Nobody around here has caught the disease quite yet. Mother took ill yesterday, but it doesn't seem to match the disease's symptoms. It sounds like you are having a strange time over there — there have been rumours, you know, about the goings on in that school. Disappearances, they say. Don't disappear, or Father might make me take over the business, and hell if I want that!

Girls aren't attractive, hm? Interesting. Perhaps you are one of those homosexuals! That'd be funny, actually. Father would be so pissed off if you went to prison, it'd be hilarious. On another note, I failed a few exams and Father took away my poetry and burnt it. I suppose that's the end of that phase.

Missing you, (Not really)

Tracy.

The letter feels brief, but I still smile. Her words are always a refreshing escape from the throes of education. I hastily write a reply:

Tracy,

I hope Mother recovers fast. Tell me if it worsens, all right? The virus isn't amounting to much over here, but I'm confused that our letters are still being delivered when the city is in quarantine. Do you know why?

I'd rather not consider the idea of me being a homosexual. It's illegal, you know, and Father would probably send me to the gallows for not producing an heir. For now, I'll take things as they are, and try to unburden myself from this.

Speaking of which, you should definitely hide this letter after you read it. If Father found out we were even discussing these things, that'd be it, I'd be out of the house. I couldn't bear that.

Good luck with school. Give Father hell from me,

Ness

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I sit down next to Lucas with my soup and bread roll, but he's wearing a nervous expression, a sure sign that something's happened.

"What's the matter?" I ask, taking his hand under the table.

"I had Business Studies." He sounds despairing. "Wario said he'd asked me to do eight pages of the business plan, not four."

"What? That lying, cheating git!"

"He gave me a triple detention. Three hours, tonight."

"Triple? What is he going to have you do?"

"I don't know." Lucas flops onto my shoulder.

"I'm sorry." I hold him, suddenly keen to blame Wario for everything wrong with this planet. "He's awful. I hate him so much."

"Hate is a strong word," Red says bluntly.

"Yes, but—"

"And yet, it's not strong enough for Wario!" Red takes a remarkably vicious bite of his bread.

"What?" I'm taken aback. Red's never spoken ill of a professor before. "I did not know you had such a problem with him."

"He's simply dreadful. He isn't teaching us anything. Rambling on, and on, and on..."

"Sounds awful. Imagine taking business," Toon Link says, consuming his soup with ease.

"Says you," Villager laughs. "Imagine taking Theatre."

"Theatre is an art!"

"It's behind you!"

"There's more to theatre than just pantomimes," Toon Link grumbles.

"Oh no there isn't," Villager says, and Toon Link glares at him. Lucas laughs, but I notice he hasn't touched his food.

"Won't you eat?" I ask him.

He stops laughing immediately. "I'm not hungry."

"Lucas, come on," I say, worried by this new stance. "It's just a detention. Well, three, but they'll be over and done with quickly."

"Wario caned me," Lucas says, flat.

I open my mouth and close it, before pulling him into another hug.

"Where? Are you okay? I'll cane him right back, I swear to you—"

"It wasn't that," Lucas says. His eyes are cold, suddenly, and I feel distinctly uncomfortable. "He did it in front of the whole class, Ness. They were all laughing."

"It was quite disgraceful, actually." Red continues to ravage his bread. "I shouted at them all."

"Damn them all to hell," I say. "I'm going to find every person who laughed, and I'm going to—"

"Ness, please, don't do anything stupid," Lucas begs, gripping my wrist. He looks worried, and suddenly I hate how apathetic he gets when people hurt him. He's like a doormat, letting anyone do as they please.

"They made you sad," I say.

"It's fine. I shouldn't have mentioned it." But he averts his eyes. I pull him into another hug, and he makes a strange, slightly childish noise.

"Anyway," Toon Link says. "I have news. I caught Meta Knight and Olimar carrying a massive net through the library."

"All right, we're avoiding that route," I decide. "They're supposed to be after Lucas today."

"I know," Villager says darkly. "You'd better be careful. Remember when they hung Popo from a pole? You don't want that to be you."

"You know, I haven't seen Popo in a little while," Toon Link says, frowning. Lucas and I exchange a glance, suddenly worried. What with the disappearances, Popo could well be one of the victims.

"What've we got next?" Villager asks, changing the subject yet again.

"Honestly, don't you have a timetable?" Toon Link sighs, pulling out his own and giving it a look.

"I lost it."

"Sure, sure."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You are a poor communicator and you don't know what else to talk about."

"That statement is disappointingly hard to refute," Villager says, taking the last bite of his bread.

The clock chooses that convenient moment to chime for the end of lunch. Keen to talk a budding Wario-Villain-Theory through with Lucas, I stand, and he follows suit. History is supposed to be being held in a spare classroom upstairs, thanks to the damage sustained to Ryu's classroom from that fire. We move out of the main Hall into the central corridor, but I notice it too late…

A thin string tripwire. Lucas collides right with it, and with a surprised noise, he's yanked away, hanging upside-down from the ceiling.

"Lucas!" I shout, which draws the attention of a lot of people. A crowd gathers fast, Lucas struggles, but the string is tied tight around his foot. I try to grab for him, but the knot is too high. Lucas screws up his face, determined not to shout or cry, then Meta Knight swaggers out of the nearby bathroom, and something in me snaps.

"Fuck you! Get him down!"

"Why should I?" Meta Knight laughs, pushing Lucas like a swing. His head strikes the wall, and I boil over.

"You are dead!"

"Am I really?"

"Ness, no!"Lucas shouts as I surge forwards. His face is going red, strained with the effort of keeping his dignity. He's infuriatingly calm.

"Don't tell me what to do!" I yell. "Stick up for yourself for once, why don't you?"

"What is going on? Everyone should be in lessons!" Red shouts, but he's pushed aside by the crowd, laughing and pointing.

"You are pathetic!" I shove Meta Knight with frustration. "Pick on someone your own size!"

"Is it a fight you want? It's a fight you'll get!"

The crowd cheers, eager to see some action. But before I can do anything, Toon Link appears, fists bared.

"This isn't funny! You get Lucas down, right this second!"

"Toon Link! Stop! Get back here!" Villager calls from the other side of the crowd, but he's not heard over all the rabble, and I push Meta Knight against the wall, anger flowing through me. Nobody hurts Lucas.

"Olimar!" Meta Knight calls, and Olimar swaggers out of the bathroom. "Let's make this even."

"I fight you here and now!" Toon Link cries.

"You wouldn't!"

"I would, you fucker!" Toon Link says, and he swings a punch, I take advantage to go for Meta Knight, and suddenly, it's a mess of fists and kicks and shoves, and I'm fighting as best I can for Lucas's honour, all while the crowd encircles us. I think I nail Meta Knight in the head, but then Olimar has me pinned down; I struggle, it's not much good, Toon Link grapples with Meta Knight, pushing him back against Olimar, who is forced to release me—

I roll to one side, standing back up, and suddenly Villager's there, trying to separate us all, but there's no point, because I'm going to make them pay for teasing Lucas, for humiliating my dearest friend, and I catch a glimpse of Toon Link's nose bleeding, but still he fights, chaotically swinging his fists around. I glance back at Lucas's helpless form, and I'm angry again, I punch Olimar hard, but suddenly, I'm flipped over onto my back, and—

"BOYS!"

I've never heard an angrier shout in my life. Headmaster Hand storms through, forcing the lot of us apart.

"What the hell are you doing? This is a school, not an arena! The four of you, with me. Now!"

The crowd murmurs, scurrying away like ants. I disentangle myself from the scene, my stomach sinking — what was I thinking? Of Lucas. I had to defend Lucas...

Red unties him behind me. Good. But Toon Link, Meta Knight, Olimar and I are led away from the dispersing crowd, and we're made to sit outside Headmaster Hand's new office. Toon Link obeys stoically, but I shake, all my anger replaced with fear. If I have to send another letter back home, I'm in dreadful trouble. More so than I may be already. I'll be on the streets — made to live off handouts and stale bread, fishing in the filthy river. Headmaster Hand starts calling us in one by one, and of course, Meta Knight gets chosen first.

I sit next to Toon Link, wanting to speak to him, but not trusting myself not to become hysterical again. It's not fair. Why does Lucas have to be tormented so often? Lucas has done nothing to them, not ever, but they have the nerve to hang him up in the corridor. What sort of deranged psychopath could do that? A different feeling swells in my chest — cold dread instead of hot injustice. They're the kinds of deranged psychopath to be behind everything that's going on.

And I failed. That's the next thought to hit me. I let it happen, simply by not being observant enough. We need to leave the school, perhaps, to get out of here… if Lucas is in danger, then I'm willing to do anything for him. It's a crying shame that everywhere's so deadly now; every time we've gone outside, something's happened. I feel another surge of anxiety for the Wilderness Survival Week. A whole week in the forest, alone, with no support whatsoever? I have the horrible feeling we may not survive it.

Olimar is called in by Headmaster Hand, and a dejected-looking Meta Knight leaves. How angry will he be? Having Headmaster Hand as an enemy is not a good idea. He could make school life hell. He could give me detention for the rest of my days.

Toon Link silently scoots up to sit next to me.

"Hello," he whispers.

"Hello."

"We might be for it now," he says, rubbing his neck. I don't have the energy to reply. "Lucky I have a high pain tolerance," he continues. "But, those gits! There's no reason! Lucas would never hurt them. I suppose that's what made me so angry."

"We need to get revenge," I suggest, but Toon Link shakes his head.

"No chance."

"Why not?"

"You said it yourself, revenge will make things worse. Come on, Ness, it's okay."

"They hurt Lucas."

"Lucas wouldn't want you to fight his battles."

I open my mouth to protest, but something inside me knows he's right.

"Fine."

"Good," Toon Link says. "Now, are you all right?"

"I suppose."

"You didn't get hurt in the fight?"

"Not as badly as you did — haven't you seen your nose?"

"What?" Toon Link runs a hand under his nostril and is surprised when it comes back covered in blood. "Oh, great. These clothes are ruined!"

But I'm not in the mood to laugh, I can only wait in anticipation for my turn in Headmaster Hand's office. Toon Link is called in, and he turns to me, gulping as he's led inside. I feel stupid. So, so stupid. Lucas is going to be so disappointed in me.

Not for the first time.

Yes, hardly for the first time. I'm a master of letting him down.

You are lucky he even wants to be seen with you.

Very lucky. I'm quite, well, awful, when it comes down to it.

Everyone says so.

I'm only snapped out of my thoughts when I'm called in. Trembling with dread, I stand, ready to find out exactly what Headmaster Hand will have to say.

I sit before him.

"Ness, I'm disappointed."

Of course he is. I look down at the floor. "Sorry."

"You cannot just apologise and be done with it. What behaviour was that? What were you thinking? I've told you before about my brother. He went rogue, behaving as such. He's in prison now — do you want to end up like him?"

I look up, staring Headmaster Hand in the face, but I'm interrupted by a knock on the door.

"What is it?" Headmaster Hand calls. "Can it wait?"

"No, it's to do with what happened." It's Rosalina, a very welcome voice. She's out of breath.

"Come in."

She hurries in, placing a heavy bag on the table. I get the impression that she ran. "Ness and Toon Link were provoked, Headmaster. Meta Knight and Olimar hung Lucas up from the ceiling."

"It's true," I say.

"Rosalina, if I wanted your opinion on the matter, I would've asked for it—"

"Headmaster, you have to listen, for once! I witnessed it myself—"

But she's cut off. "For once? Don't talk to me like that. You know you are only here because I owe you, you are—"

"The only female professor in the district, I know, but—"

"You'll soon be the only former female professor if you don't hold your tongue!"

"Headmaster, forgive me, but what has happened to you?" Rosalina steps forwards, shaking. "The old you would always listen to reason."

"There is no old me, thank you very much." Headmaster Hand stares her down. "Please leave this room at once. Is that understood?"

"Yes! But—"

"At once!"

"I'll be outside, Ness," Rosalina says calmly, turning on her heel and leaving the room.

"Sorry for that interruption," Headmaster Hand says. "Now—"

"She's right." I remain unmoved. "They did hang Lucas up."

"I have no doubt they did, Ness, and they will be punished accordingly. As for you, Wario appears to be hosting a triple detention later, so you can attend that." I inwardly celebrate. At least Lucas won't be alone. "And I'll be sending a letter home," he adds gravely. I try not to think about that.

"One more thing, Headmaster," I say, sudden determination flooding through me.

"What is it, Ness?"

"What are you doing about the disappearances?"

"Excuse me?" He's not quick enough to mask his shocked expression. "How do you know about those?"

"I overheard someone."

"I see." He glowers. "To be blunt, Ness, I don't think it's any business of yours. Especially given you've just gotten into a fight."

"But we need to go home, Headmaster," I say, suddenly furious again. "It's going to get worse."

"Believe me, I've tried to arrange it," Headmaster Hand says. "Thanks to the virus, we cannot go back. There's a quarantine."

"That's what everyone says. But how do letters and newspapers still keep arriving?"

"That's a different matter. They're pieces of paper, not people carrying diseases—"

"Why is the mailman allowed to leave the quarantined city?"

"I do not know!" Headmaster Hand stands, angry now. "I suggest you stop prying and get out of my office!"

I have no choice but to obey.

Thankfully, Lucas is waiting for me outside. I run over, pulling him into a hug, which he returns.

"You are an idiot, Ness."

"I know," I say, looking down. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," he says, rolling his eyes. "At least you've got the same detention as I do."

"You made a good point about the letters and the mailmen," Rosalina muses, reappearing. "But you both should bring yourselves to lessons."

"Double History," I recall. "We're late. Again."

We hurry off, but when we're out of earshot, Lucas turns and stops me, placing a hand on my shoulder. I wince; it's still a little sore from the lightning, though not as bad as yesterday.

"We're already late," he says. "No harm in stalling a little more."

I raise my eyebrows. "That's not like you."

"It's important," he says. Worry prickles at the back of my mind. Has something happened? Is he hurt?

"What is the matter?" I ask.

"Ness, how did they know?"

"How did they know what?"

"How did they know I'd be the first one in the corridor?" He runs a hand through his hair, not meeting my eyes. "That trap could've caught anyone. But they knew it would catch me. How is that possible?"

"Easy," I say, relieved. "They probably rigged it when they saw you coming."

"I…" Lucas hesitates. "Actually, that does make a lot of sense."

"So much for noticing all the details." I grin, just a little bit, and Lucas pouts.

"You are cruel. But Ness, more importantly… are you all right?"

"Me? Always."

"Are you hurt? That was quite a fight."

"No, I think I'm fine." I steady my breathing. "Are you, though? Being hung up looked… awful."

"Everyone laughed," he says hollowly. "Again."

"I'm sorry…" I touch his shoulder. "They're all wrong."

He sighs, resigned, and it's a little disheartening. "I know. But that's just how it is when you are poor." He makes to start walking again, but I stop him.

"While we're here," I say. "I have an idea who's behind everything. Wario."

"Wario?" Lucas furrows his brow. "No, wait, how?"

"He's rich. He's influential. It could've been him cornering you in the shower, we know what happened with him and Bayonetta in the forest, and he's got it out for you. It all adds up."

Lucas thinks. He puts the pieces together, focusing…

His eyes come alight. "Ness, you might be right!"

"And all this," I continue. "All the things that have happened; he's got no morals, he could well be causing people to disappear... and he could somehow be to do with - with the Future Humans... and, and the Face… and… the grave…?" I fall short. "Okay, I'm not sure how he's related to that."

"Well..." Lucas thinks hard. "Ryu thinks the Future Humans are coming for me. Wario has money, he could easily… but, what are the Future Humans? Why Latin — Wario doesn't know Latin, does he?"

"No." I bury my face in my hands. I'm wrong, once again. I don't understand. I don't understand anything. We need more clues.

"Ness?" Lucas looks up at me again. "I have a suggestion."

"What is it?"

"Erm." He looks a little sheepish. "Well, I think we should stop worrying about all this."

"What!? But it's important — you are in danger!"

"No — we might put ourselves in bigger danger by trying to investigate… we could try to just enjoy the rest of the term. Or it'll just consume us, right?"

"I suppose..." I think it over. He's actually, well, right. We're not making progress by investigating, and I'm frankly tired of worrying about it all. "All right then. If you are sure."

"I'd much rather have fun." Lucas takes my hand. "It can be just like before everything began."

I smile at him. "That sounds good to me."

"Great." He smiles back. "From now on, no worrying about anything."

And one history lesson later, I'm almost feeling normal. My hand is aching after a surprise essay. There are schoolbooks in my bag. I'm thinking about homework, not monsters, and it's finally time for the last lesson of the week. Unfortunately, it's Art, which means it's time to read all the newspaper headlines.

"Hello, class!" Shulk walks in, happy as always, wearing an apron covered in fresh paint. "Good to see you all, but I have no newspapers, since Lucas took them earlier—"

"I still have them. Sorry." Lucas hands them back over.

"Don't mention it! It's all right. Now, you should've finished at least one piece by now, and you probably should be moving on to your next one today, so uh, good luck…"

We pore over the first headline, and I take Lucas's hand, just in case of bad news.

Virus cases increase to over 1000!

I bite my lip, moving the article to the side. I try not to fret over Tracy and Mother, trapped in the middle of that chaos. Especially with the preparations for violence…

Generous Porky Minch supplies weapons to the Onett First Brigade!

"Why would he do that?" I ask, alarmed.

"If there's a fight, more people will move to New Pork City," Lucas guesses, causing me to jump. "It's clever," he adds. "Tazmily will have no chance."

But I'm not really listening, as something else, another article, another terrible article, looms:

Onett declares war on Tazmily!