AN: This chapter brings up events from the prequel, so if you haven't read that, you might want to do so now.

Day 14

The room kept getting colder.

Tsukuyomi rolled over and pressed her face into her pillow.

No, no, that wasn't really it. That wasn't it at all. The room had never been pleasant. It was just as bad now as it always was.

Her tolerance for it had just gone down.

No fun. No fun or fair at all. This was all very bad.

Setsuna had disappeared before she woke up, so that wasn't helping either. Not that things would be any more comfortable with her around, but it would at least be warmer. That was one thing that her senpai's recent oddness around her couldn't change.

Tsukuyomi could feel her head starting to ache.

Setsuna.

She had gotten out of talking to her roommate about their little altercation because her senpai was just as keen on avoiding discussing what happened as she was, but that didn't matter much. Her problem was not with Setsuna.

Her problem was, yet again, with how Setsuna made her feel. What she made her feel.

Being happy when her senpai wasn't dead was one thing. One very, very strange thing, but not such a huge deal. Just a little odd. A fun mystery to keep in mind while she was stuck at Mahora.

But this—this was so much different.

In all her life, Tsukuyomi had never had a problem with killing. It was enjoyable, kept her from being cold, and most importantly, it was fun. The moral dilemmas so many otherwise skilled fighters faced had never been an obstacle for her. She loved killing far too much to come up with silly, superficial reasons for avoiding it.

Not being able to kill someone wasn't something that happened. Ever. Of course, every once in a while, she met an opponent whose strength simply outclassed hers, but that wasn't the same thing. She could still kill them, it was just more likely that they'd beat her before an opportunity came up.

Her entire time in the Magical World, she had longed for her inevitable fight with Setsuna. No one matched her strength so equally, and no one else could make her feel so alive with only a touch. Since the very first day they met, Tsukuyomi was sure that killing Setsuna would fill her with a pleasure far more intense than anything she'd ever felt.

And then when they finally did get their true fight, she enjoyed every second of it. Even with the inconvenient interruptions, there could be no question that once it really started up, Setsuna was entirely focused on her. Setsuna wanted the fight just as badly.

Tsukuyomi dug out her broken pencil from under her sheets.

She couldn't remember if she'd been thinking of killing Setsuna then. The fight and the blood had completely consumed her—death was secondary to those pleasures. Shredding through Setsuna's flesh and feeling the spray of that deliciously hot blood splashing against her face—to her, that was the point.

There was, after all, nothing more beautiful than seeing Setsuna's pale skin colored red with her own blood.

But the logical conclusion if that fight had continued without outside interference—

Tsukuyomi clamped her eyes shut and fought to keep her breathing regulated. An uncomfortable tremor of fear went through her. She remembered all too well where this path led.

Not doing this again, no we're not.

She got the point. The thought of a dead Setsuna wasn't something she could bear. It made no sense whatsoever, but she understood enough to know that she needed to guide her thoughts away from a dead Setsuna.

Tsukuyomi shivered; the room really was too cold.

She wasn't used to her mind objecting to anything so violently.

She wasn't used to being afraid.

Shaking her head furiously, she threw off the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed, examining the broken pencil in her hands. After a day of keeping her thoughts occupied with anything other than Setsuna, the little piece of wood was really very sharp.

Tsukuyomi scowled at it. She didn't like how quickly her self-control died, but the number of things she did like about her current situation were rapidly disappearing, so there wasn't any point pouting about it.

She drove the wood into her forearm, gasping in relief when the first touch of heat dripped onto her skin.

Setsuna walked back to her room as slowly as she possibly could. Looking uncomfortably over her shoulder every few seconds helped with that. And it proved that she was imagining the disapproving eyes watching her every move.

She sighed and looked back in front of her, following the path her feet were walking.

She wondered if she should have told the headmaster about her fight with Tsukuyomi.

The most vocal part of her conscience certainly agreed with that. Setsuna glanced over her shoulder for what she told herself would be the last time. Still no one watching her.

What was she supposed to say? She hadn't even told Konoka about what happened. Only Mana knew, and she didn't have all of the details. Telling the headmaster would mean explaining exactly why holding her temper around Tsukuyomi was impossible, and that would make it obvious that she probably shouldn't be the one guarding the infuriating girl because she somehow managed to scare her and—

And—

She didn't feel comfortable with the idea of someone else watching Tsukuyomi.

Setsuna knew she could be a little—well—possessive of the other girl, but she thought that ended with their fight. Hadn't she hoped that someone else would deal with the swordsgirl at the start of Tsukuyomi's incarceration?

But did I ever really want someone else to look after her?

She wished she didn't know the answer to that; months of paranoia prevented her from putting too much distance between herself and Tsukuyomi. If someone else guarded her…

Setsuna looked over her shoulder another last time. Her selfishness was inappropriate back when she wanted to kill Tsukuyomi, and it was inappropriate now. She wasn't supposed to hold things back in her reports to the headmaster. Technically, she held back information about herself, but that was a pitiful justification for it.

And to make matters worse, part of her was starting to think that reporting to the headmaster wasn't necessary because Tsukuyomi was behaving herself, and the only problems popping up stemmed from their interaction and that was private.

And that, Setsuna thought, is ridiculous.

Setsuna rubbed at her forehead. She'd talk to Tsukuyomi about their fight when she reached the room. If she couldn't convince herself to tell the headmaster about it, she should at least fix things so it wasn't an issue. She probably shouldn't have taken advantage of Tsukuyomi's willingness to ignore the incident in the first place, so she could correct that too.

Plan hesitantly in place, Setsuna nodded and started walking at a normal pace.

The battered door to her room showed up much faster than she would have liked.

Setsuna took a deep breath and got out her key. There was always the chance that Tsukuyomi would still be asleep; there was no guarantee that she'd have to start an awkward conversation the second she stepped through the door.

She opened the door and walked in quietly—just in case.

All of her mental preparation vanished when she saw Tsukuyomi bleeding all over the bed.

Her body froze for a second, not comprehending what was happening.

Tsukuyomi

Blood.

Her blood.

Everywhere.

All over the bed.

All over the tower floor—

Setsuna's body ran forward of its own volition and pressed a hand against Tsukuyomi's bleeding forearm while the other summoned her pactio card. She barely noticed the other girl's eyes opening in shock when she tightened her grip around the wound, smearing blood all over her hand.

"Kono-chan!"

Konoka pushed herself off the bed, sighing in relief. "Okay, done."

"She's going to be okay then?" Setsuna asked anxiously.

Konoka nodded. "She just lost a lot of blood—she'll be fine."

Setsuna looked at the unconscious girl who was lying so innocently on the bloody sheets. She gulped and turned away when she realized that Tsukuyomi was still covered in blood—and smiling. "That's good."

She spun the piece of wood that had caused all the trouble around in her hand. How had Tsukuyomi managed to do so much damage to herself with it? It was sharp enough to pierce the skin, but to cut into her arm that deeply with it… it would have been incredibly painful. And slow.

Setsuna felt a little sick imagining Tsukuyomi carefully opening up her veins little by little. What had Tsukuyomi been thinking? What the hell possessed her to be so stupid when there wasn't any guarantee that she'd get to a healer before bleeding to death? She didn't have the tools to be accurate enough to safely slice that deeply into herself, and it was just luck that Konoka was available. She wasn't at the dojo anymore. She couldn't just go to the infirmary and be sure that someone was around with the skill needed to fix her.

What was she thinking? She nearly killed herself!

The broken pencil snapped in Setsuna's hand. She felt a little comforted when the half that fell out of her hand was the bloodier one. It was practically drenched in the repulsive fluid.

Tsukuyomi's blood.

Setsuna jumped when she felt Konoka's hands slip into hers. She dropped the other half of the pencil and looked into her partner's eyes. Nothing but open affection could be seen in Konoka's expression, and Setsuna felt her heart speed up and ache. She swallowed nervously. "Kono-chan?"

"Your hands are shaking," Konoka said softly.

"O-oh." Setsuna let Konoka move her into the chair she'd put near the bed while Konoka was working on Tsukuyomi. Konoka knelt next to her, still holding her hands. She ran her thumbs over Setsuna's knuckles in a gentle caress.

"She really will be okay Set-chan; you should have more faith in me."

"What?" Setsuna asked in shock before she tried to stutter out an explanation. "N-no—I'm not—it's not that I don't—I just—"

Konoka giggled and stood up to kiss Setsuna's reddening cheek. She kept her lips against the burning skin several seconds longer than strictly necessary, and Setsuna could feel her higher brain function failing.

"Worrying so much isn't healthy, Set-chan."

Setsuna could feel her scalp starting to tingle. Searching for some distraction, her gaze fell back on Tsukuyomi. The girl was apparently still blissfully unconscious. Setsuna didn't know when they were going to get a chance to clean the sheets.

"Set-chan?"

"Ah—yes, Ojou-sama?"

Konoka gnawed on her lip and squeezed Setsuna's hands tightly. Belatedly, Setsuna wondered how much of Tsukuyomi's blood she was getting on her partner.

"Should we be getting Tsukuyomi-san help?"

Setsuna blinked in confusion. "I thought you said that she's going to be fine?"

Konoka shook her head. "That's not what I meant."

"Then… what did you mean?"

"Set-chan, she tried to kill herself," Konoka said worriedly. "That's not healthy."

Setsuna confusion vanished, and she was left feeling incredibly awkward when she realized the conclusion her partner had reached. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair and glanced at Tsukuyomi for a moment before looking back at the honestly concerned Konoka.

"She—wasn't trying to kill herself."

Now it was Konoka's turn to be confused. "But then why did she—?"

Setsuna shrugged hopelessly. "I don't know. I think it's a—a hobby of hers."

"A hobby?"

"I think so." Setsuna wasn't sure what else to call it. As far as she knew (and she really didn't know much), it was something Tsukuyomi enjoyed that helped her pass the time. That was a hobby, right?

"She does things like this to herself for fun?"

Setsuna nodded, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as Konoka's expression grew more and more disturbed. She didn't spend much time considering Tsukuyomi's peculiar habits, but she was at least aware of how alien the girl's mind was compared to normal people's. Konoka wasn't familiar enough with Tsukuyomi to know that this was probably the least distressing of her entertainment choices.

She sighed and looked back at her roommate. Tsukuyomi looked like she was starting to wake up a little bit—she wasn't smiling anymore, and her usual sleeping behavior was kicking in; she was shivering and curling her head into the bloody sheets. She would probably be up in a few minutes; less if Konoka kept talking. Then Setsuna would have to be ready to talk about their fight, and—she'd also have to work out what to tell the headmaster about this mess.

He definitely needed to know that Tsukuyomi had gotten her hands on a weapon, even if it wasn't one she could use effectively on anyone other than herself. She wasn't as sure that it was necessary for him to know what Tsukuyomi used the improvised weapon for. Technically, she had only been ordered to report on how well Tsukuyomi was following the rules the headmaster set, not the girl's eccentricities.

The best thing, Setsuna decided, her head starting to throb painfully, was probably to talk to Tsukuyomi about everything and figure out what the headmaster needed to know then.

She could just imagine how well that would go. It was very unlikely that Tsukuyomi would understand why slicing her arm open created problems for anyone else, and even less likely that she would care.

"You're doing it again."

Setsuna jumped. "Huh?"

Konoka smiled warmly. "Worrying."

"Sorry," Setsuna said automatically.

Konoka shook her head. "Don't be—I don't blame you. If I was in charge of Tsukuyomi-san, I think I would have gone crazy weeks ago."

"I'm wondering if I did," Setsuna admitted. She extricated her hands from her partner's and tried not to look at how much of Tsukuyomi's blood was all over them.

"Well," Konoka said, wrapping her arms tightly around Setsuna and keeping her from moving any further away, "even if you did, that's okay. Crazy Set-chan is cute."

Setsuna ducked her head, attempting to hide her horribly flushed face from view. Konoka laughed softly at the reaction and squeezed her closer. They both stayed in contented (if slightly embarrassed on Setsuna's side) silence for several moments before Konoka spoke up again.

"Do you still want to be the one guarding Tsukuyomi-san?"

"Yes," Setsuna said with mortifying promptness.

"So," Konoka said, pulling away, "you just have to make sure that she doesn't keep up with her, um, hobbies anymore, right?"

Setsuna smiled ruefully. "It's harder than it sounds… I didn't even think to ask about what happened to her pencil. When she said it broke, I just got her a new one and…" She gestured to the fitfully sleeping girl on the bed.

"But you still want to do it."

"I—yes."

"And is worrying going to help with that?"

Setsuna was beginning to feel like a small child being lectured. "No."

Konoka clapped her hands together. "So what does that tell you?

"That I should stop worrying," Setsuna chanted obediently.

"You're worried?"

Konoka and Setsuna both jumped at the sudden question from the supposedly unconscious Tsukuyomi. The blonde was sitting up and clinging to the bloody sheets. She looked more spacey than usual, but other than that and the blood all over everything, no one would have known that she had been so close to death such a short time ago.

Setsuna leapt up from her chair and stepped closer to the bed, trying very, very hard not to notice the overwhelming relief blossoming in her chest. "Are you okay?"

Tsukuyomi raised an eyebrow in confusion at the question, almost making Setsuna blush when she realized just how ridiculous she was being about this. It wasn't like this was the first time Tsukuyomi had passed out from blood loss. Compared to how badly injured she was after their fight, this was nothing.

"Oh? You were worried about me then? That's sweet of you."

Tsukuyomi's eyes trailed down to stare at Setsuna's hands, her bleariness immediately vanishing when she took in how much of her blood was smeared all over her precious senpai. How had that gotten there?

Wait—she could remember splitting open her arm with the pencil.

That was it then.

She did feel a bit less cold, so she couldn't really complain, but she wished it hadn't been necessary. She had something of a record going for not needing to do that, and it was always better to make someone else bleed anyways.

Hold on, though… Her arm. Something was wrong.

There was no pain.

She yanked aside the heated sheets and looked down at her arm.

Now see, that just wasn't right. The relaxing warmth of her blood was there, but there was no wound. How had that happened? She ran her fingers over her arm, prodding where there was supposed to be a bloody gash, but she could only feel smooth skin.

"You really don't need to though. It doesn't look like I need fixing." As curious as that was, it wasn't something to be worried about. Tsukuyomi poked harder, but there really didn't seem to be anything there. Not even a scar.

"Not anymore," Setsuna said with a strange amount of sharpness. "You cut deeply enough that Ojou-sama needed to heal you."

Tsukuyomi took in the amount of blood on the sheets before glancing at the third girl in the room briefly. She didn't bother to correct Setsuna's assumption—she wasn't positive that she was remembering correctly yet.

"Sorry Tsukuyomi-san; I didn't think to wash the blood off."

Meeting Konoka's eyes, Tsukuyomi smiled. "Don't worry about it Konoka-sama. I like it better like this."

Konoka looked strangely uncomfortable when she heard that, vastly improving Tsukuyomi's mood. On the other hand, Setsuna still didn't look anything approaching happy.

And she was too close.

Something that felt entirely too much like fear chilled Tsukuyomi's tolerably lukewarm skin and she edged away from her Senpai. She almost wanted the Setsuna from yesterday that was all too willing to ignore her. At least then she wouldn't have to—

Uh uh.

Great. Now she had a headache.

Konoka coughed lightly. "Um, Set-chan, I'm going to go ahead and go so you two can talk. I'll see you Monday, okay?" She barely had an answer out of Setsuna before she leaned over to kiss her cheek and started out the room, leaving her partner to stutter an embarrassed goodbye.

Tsukuyomi scowled at that, feeling incredibly irritated all of a sudden. The feeling only got worse when Setsuna stared at the door for several seconds after Konoka left before shaking herself and sitting back down on a chair that definitely hadn't been there the last time Tsukuyomi woke up.

They both looked at each other for a few moments before Tsukuyomi's gaze naturally drifted back down to Setsuna's bloody hands.

She knew it wasn't really Setsuna's blood, but the red still looked lovely on her senpai's pale skin. Tsukuyomi pulled her sheets back up around her, taking in the warmth left over from her blood. It was comfortable, but she was right. Even including the blood on Setsuna and Konoka, there wasn't anywhere near enough.

So she was remembering correctly. That burning that filled her wasn't from the blood. Setsuna grabbed her arm and tried to stop the bleeding.

Adrenaline started to feel her veins and she had to fight to keep her breathing steady. How many years had it been since she'd felt that? If she didn't know what happened when she got too caught up in Setsuna now, she'd be very annoyed that she passed out before she could properly take in the feeling.

At least this time she passed out before…

Pathetic, really. She knew she reacted strongly to Setsuna, but she had thought she had more self-control than this. She'd lasted longer without spilling blood when she was on Fate's payroll. It couldn't just be that she was constantly around her senpai, could it?

Not that Tsukuyomi could really say for sure what Setsuna did to her at this point. She rubbed at her bloody arm. Did Konoka really have to heal her?

And if she kept ignoring the awkward silence, would Setsuna go away? They had managed a whole day without talking already. Why break a perfectly nice record?

Her musings were interrupted by Setsuna reaching out to fidget with a stray thread on the sheets. Tsukuyomi jerked back, putting some distance between her and Setsuna's temptingly warm hands.

"Don't touch me."

Setsuna's eyes widened guiltily and she pulled back her hand. "I wasn't—sorry."

Tsukuyomi shrugged and shifted a few inches away from the edge of the bed, trying to pretend that her heart wasn't racing. This was so unfair. She liked Setsuna. Why did she have to have such an aversion to killing the one person she genuinely liked? It wasn't any fair!

"Tsukuyomi?"

The girl in question sighed. "Yes, Senpai?"

"The other day—I'm sorry for losing my temper. I was out of line."

Tsukuyomi rolled her eyes and felt herself start to smile. "Don't apologize. In case you couldn't tell, I like seeing you lose control." Whatever her current problems were, and however Setsuna seemed to inspire them, that was still very much true.

"I scared you."

Tsukuyomi lost all traces of her smile. "You saw that."

Setsuna nodded, but kept her eyes glued to the floor. Her shoulders were tensed, her fists were balled, and guilt was written all over the parts of her face Tsukuyomi could see. Tsukuyomi looked away and tried to press her warm sheets closer to her skin, determined to stay quiet.

Emotions were, in general, squishy, messy things. Acknowledging their presence in the first place tended to make everything worse (especially in the case of Fate's overly emotional underlings), and talking about them was just pointless.

Really, she didn't like thinking about them in the first place, so what could possibly be the point of sharing her unhappiness? Admittedly, the idea of sharing things with Setsuna wasn't something she could automatically dismiss simply because it was Setsuna, but there was no point.

…She didn't think that miserable look on Setsuna's face was leaving.

"You didn't scare me," Tsukuyomi said quietly. "It's just that when you touch me…" She rested her chin in her hands and tried to work out the best way to explain it.

"Your touch excites me too much," she finally settled on.

"What?" Setsuna squeaked.

Tsukuyomi tapped her fingers against her cheek. "It made me consider something that I really didn't want to, so I got—scared. But," she looked over and met Setsuna's mortified gaze, "I like you far too much to be afraid of you."

Setsuna did a remarkable impression of a goldfish for nearly a minute. It made Tsukuyomi smile a little—Senpai was still Senpai after all. "Ah—o-okay."

More silence, much more comfortable than earlier, fell. Tsukuyomi curled up on her side so she could watch the embarrassed, conflicted emotions flash across Setsuna's face. There was a smear of blood on her cheek.

For a very odd second, Tsukuyomi wanted to reach over and brush it away, just to have an excuse to touch Setsuna. Then she remembered that doing that would probably make her want to kill Setsuna, and that was bad. So she contented herself with taking in the contrast of her blood against Setsuna's pale white skin.

At least, she did until Setsuna regained her composure and smoothed away the blood herself. Tsukuyomi pouted. Her blood looked so much more appetizing when it was spattered on Setsuna's flesh.

"Is it the blood?"

"Huh?" Tsukuyomi said ineloquently. She hadn't realized she was still expected to be participating in a conversation. It wasn't like Setsuna usually volunteered for casual discussion. She tended to do everything possible to avoid it.

Setsuna clasped her hands together, rubbing flakes of dried blood off her fingernails. She tilted her head and let her eyes fall to Tsukuyomi's covered arm.

"I'm not going to tell the headmaster about this," she said very quickly. "So… so… I think I should know what 'this' is."

Tsukuyomi raised her eyebrows. Well now, she hadn't even gotten around to considering the problems other people objectively caring about her wellbeing could cause. "My, my… you're willing to lie for me? That's not really proper behavior for someone like you, is it?"

"Tsukuyomi…" Setsuna sighed. "Could you just tell me?"

"You didn't care nearly so much last time," Tsukuyomi said mildly. "Or at all. Does this mean you care now? If you were just being a responsible guard, lying wouldn't even cross your mind, so it's not that. What has you so curious?"

"That was years ago," Setsuna snapped. "I barely knew you."

Tsukuyomi grinned at her Senpai's defensive tone. "And you've gone to so much trouble since then to get to know me better." Setsuna glared at her. Tsukuyomi shrugged and started watching the tension gathering in Setsuna's wrists. Her veins and tendons were standing out so prominently that it was incredibly easy to imagine—

Struck by a sudden inability to breathe properly, Tsukuyomi cleared her throat. "Haven't I told you before? For me, there's no greater pleasure than spilling someone's blood. Right now, mine just happens to be the only kind available, so I have to manage with that." She almost asked if Setsuna would like to volunteer hers before she remembered her current issues with her roommate.

"But—why—?"

Tsukuyomi smiled. "Not everything needs to be complicated, Setsuna-senpai. It's warm. And tasty. I like it."

Setsuna watched Tsukuyomi's blood flow down the drain.

Something about what the girl said was bothering her. It was strange—compared to everything else that had happened today, it seemed so small, but it refused to leave her alone.

She wasn't even sure that Tsukuyomi meant it that way… she really didn't know anything that she didn't before.

But…

Setsuna bowed her head, pressing it against the cool edge of the sink.

Tsukuyomi never slept properly. But she was definitely getting worse. Her shivering was violent enough that it woke Setsuna up sometimes, and in the beginning, the noise had only made it hard to get to sleep.

After Konoka healed her… had it gotten better?

She couldn't be sure. She'd have to ask Tsukuyomi if she really wanted to know.

She didn't want to know. Even if she was right, she couldn't think of anything to do about it. Not anything practical at least.

And besides, she was probably imagining it.

Tsukuyomi was feeling very, very confused as she watched Setsuna sleep.

It was happening again.

That strange yearning to touch her senpai. Only this time, there was no blood. There was just Setsuna's perfectly unblemished skin. It didn't make any sense to just want to touch her. Hadn't she learned anything?

She couldn't kill her. No matter how badly she wanted to, she couldn't have Setsuna dead.

Tsukuyomi sighed and shut her eyes, forcing away the fear her all-too vivid imagination was causing.

She didn't like this. She didn't like this at all.

Other people had trouble with killing. Not her. Other people got so confused and scared over the thought of their precious person dying that they—

Tsukuyomi's eyes snapped open.

Setsuna-senpai is my precious person.

She sat up in her bed and stared down at her sleeping roommate, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. Setsuna's pulse fluttered in her neck. She was very obviously alive; exactly the way Tsukuyomi wanted her.

Tsukuyomi could feel her heart start to beat faster. A sticky, sappy feeling was flowing through her veins, making her skin buzz in contentment.

I'm… in love with her.

…

Well.

That certainly explains a lot.