Well, this is a change from my usual breaks between updates. Lol. I got done with school a few days ago, so now I'm writing (and playing video games) 24/7. Six hours into my third playthrough of XIII and I'm not tired of it yet.

Anyway, i and jollyp, your reviews for the last chapter pretty much made my day, since the notification emails for them showed up in my inbox literally within a few minutes of each other.

i - I'm glad that last chapter wasn't too confusing, haha. And wow... the fact that you actually took the time to read the other stories on my profile... I'm impressed, and thank you. :D

I realized when I uploaded this chapter that it's unfortunately one of the shorter ones, so apologies. I'll try to get the next one out sooner. :D

Chapter Five: Second Impressions

General Ballad took Claire down another path beside the military complex. It led to a cluster of buildings that she had never seen before. They walked past the low front door of one such building, nearing its atmosphere of heavy fog and dim lights. A group of soldiers standing near the door called out to General Ballad. They stepped close enough that one of them was able to hand him a drink. They shouted for him to stay and join them, but he merely lifted a hand in farewell and pressed closer to Claire, leading her away.

The seconds that passed after they got clear of the close atmosphere felt uncomfortable to Claire, and she moved away from General Ballad, so that his hand no longer brushed hers. He glanced at her and offered her the bottle he now held in his opposite hand. She shook her head.

An amused look crossed his face. "Have you even had a drink before?"

"Yeah. I used to do it all the time, back home." Claire clapped her hand over her mouth as she realized what she had just let slip. She hadn't actually been able to drink back home.

General Ballad just smiled. "I know how that is."

Claire clenched her fists at her sides. She watched him out of the corner of her eye until he turned his gaze toward her again.

"Claire." His lips were turned up in what might have been a smile. "I would not reveal such information to anyone. Relax."

She nodded and took a deep breath. "Yes, sir."

General Ballad sipped from the bottle and shook his head. "You may call me Caius."

"Caius?" she echoed in disbelief.

"You do remember me telling you that was my first name in training, do you not?" he asked with a smirk, and fell silent.

Claire stared at her boots. Her thoughts had traveled back to the assignment not so long earlier, when she'd looked down the barrel of one of Eden's guns and thought it was her last look at anything. That was just before he had pushed her out of the way. And asked her if she needed help.

All of this felt beyond her understanding.

"Sir," she began, "why did you save me during that assignment?"

"Save you?" he asked, stopping. One of the facility's dim street lamps shone over his head, throwing new shadows across the planes of his face. "What do you mean?"

"Please don't," Claire snapped. "I know you know what I'm talking about. And I want to know why."

"Because," he said and stared at the path.

Claire resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead she stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I believe you are a capable soldier," he admitted finally. "I believe you have the potential to rise from your current rank and become something much greater."

Claire recalled the first day of training, when he had called her out, when he had thrown her in solitary. "W-what did you think of me then," she began, "on the first day of training?"

He looked up thoughtfully. "I do not know. Perhaps that you were brave. Too brave. Or that you were—" He stopped.

"Too brave?" Claire asked.

"Brave enough to stand up to an authority you had only just encountered," he said. "To a General, that is a most annoying quality in a soldier. But in battle against another unit, when it is not your own General's authority that you question, it is a different story. It could free you. Or it could kill you. It depends how you use it."

"So you try to crush it while you can," Claire paraphrased thoughtfully. "That's an interesting way of going about it."

"Not necessarily," Caius said. "The problem comes when rebellious soldiers pick fights with their own Generals too often. Other than that, we rather prefer to leave them alone."

Claire rounded on him. "Is that why you brought me here?" she demanded. "To make sure I don't question your authority again?"

Caius laughed. "It's just as well you're too smart," he murmured, one hand stretching out to brush the side of her jaw. Just as soon as he had reached out, he pulled his hand back, leaving Claire no time to even process the idea of slapping his hand away. He stood up. "Come. I will accompany you back to your dormitory."

Claire's breath caught at the idea of walking back to her dormitory with their commanding officer. "Sir, there's no need," she choked out. "I can get there on my own."

"Please," he said, "allow me."

"Sir, that's really not—" she began, but he reached out again, offering his hand. Slowly, she reached out and took it, and he pulled her out of the glare of the street lamp, leading her away from it slowly.

Her memory took the opportunity to remind her of the conversation she'd had just days ago with Fang and Noel. He actually doesn't hate you. Claire swallowed hard. A strange feeling stirred somewhere inside her. Was she even allowed to be this close to a man she was forced to call General? She held her breath in an attempt to keep as still as she could as his hand slid down to her lower back, the gentle pressure of it propelling her forward and through the cool darkness of the late night.

Claire wanted to ask him why he insisted on keeping his hands on her as they left the close, foggy back streets and entered a more familiar area of the facility. She didn't dare. Her mind wandered as she walked, again taking her back to her conversations with Fang. He's only, what, twenty-two? … He's kind of hot. … Oh God, Claire, get over yourself.

The pressure of Caius's hand vanished from her back, and Claire glanced over at him. Before she could stop it, a question burst forth to her lips: "So how did you get to be an officer?"

A rueful smile pulled at his lips. "That is an interesting story," he muttered. "In the beginning I did what you did—I impressed my commanding officer during one of my assignments."

He paused for a moment, staring straight ahead as they walked. Claire noticed that he had his hands in his pockets, an action that struck her as distinctly not superior. In fact, it looked kind of normal. For a split second she saw a man who needed to get something off his chest, not a commanding officer, not even a soldier.

"On a later assignment I was ambushed by one of the opposing squad's soldiers, and just before he cleaved me in two with his sword, my commanding officer jumped in front of me," Caius said. "The other soldier's sword sliced through only air. Mine went through flesh."

Claire's hand flew to her mouth. "No—you don't mean you—" she stammered.

He nodded. "My sword impaled him, and he fell in front of me, dead when he hit the ground. I never spoke to him again."

"Caius…" she whispered in disbelief.

He turned and looked at her, and she saw such an expression of pain, of regret and concern, in his eyes that she almost didn't recognize him. His countenance contained no trace of the General Ballad she knew from her first days in training.

"I killed him," Caius said aloud, as though realizing it for the first time. "The other officers were reluctant to give me his position, but they realized they had no other choice. They trained me in a matter of weeks, and I took over as General. I have led your squad for only a few years."

Claire stared into the darkness at the road that led to the main building.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out.

He laughed. "Apologies are not necessary, Claire."

"I know." She stared at her boots. "I had to."

Caius stopped walking and turned to face her. "We are in the military, Claire. Condolences mean nothing. Apologies are obsolete. People cannot be brought back from the dead. You know this. It happens all the time."

They both fell silent. Claire glanced up at the lights that emanated from her dormitory in the distance. She wondered if Fang and the others had watched her disappear with Caius—with General Ballad, she reminded herself.

"I should… probably go," she told him. "I think I can make it from here."

"No," he said. "I will go with you until the door. That way your classmates will understand where you've been."

Claire looked at him sideways. "You want them to know where we've been?"

"You know what I mean," he said. "Would you rather have them thinking you've been wandering around in the dark by yourself, after a battle such as the one we fought today?"

"I guess not," she muttered.

"Then come," he told her and began walking the path toward her dormitory again.

They walked up to the front doors of the dormitory together without saying another word. Caius stopped there and, reaching for the handle of the door, he leaned closer to her. "By the way," he murmured, "Noel may know how to disable electronic door locks, but he apparently has no knowledge of security cameras."

Claire froze. "You mean," she began, "you mean you saw… him… in your office?"

"You as well," he answered. "I do not appreciate having my possessions stolen by trainee soldiers. I should lock you in solitary for another fifteen minutes for that, but I believe you have already learned your lesson." He swung the door open and gestured for her to step inside. "This is as far as I go. Good night, Claire."

"Um… Good night, Caius," she echoed. "I mean—General Ballad."

"My offer still stands," he said. "I don't mind when other people use my first name once in a while. I would not want it to atrophy." He turned his back on her and walked away.

Claire stood in the doorway staring at him for a few minutes, forgetting the dormitory and its inhabitants at her back, until she heard voices behind her and realized that General Caius Ballad had vanished completely into the darkness.