Reno—Nibelheim

Nibelheim will never not give me the creeps. I don't see how people can stand to live there. They were transplanted there like trees after Shinra rebuilt the town. The director never talks about it, but I know he feels shame for his part in what we did there.

I wasn't part of the team sent to clean up the town. Rude was there when the place burned, and part of the retrieval squad sent after Zack Fair and Cloud. I was part of that squad too. I look back on that part of my life as little as I can. It wasn't all that long ago, but it might as well have been a lifetime. It was for Zack, that's for damn sure, and sometimes—when I can't help myself—I wonder about Cloud.

The people there must have been indoctrinated. I've never seen the file on Nibelheim, so I don't know how in the world the company persuaded them this hellmouth was a place to settle and raise a family. They walk the streets in the shadow of the mountains where the damn reactor lurks, where the nightmare began. They walk past the gates of the creepy-ass Shinra Mansion, where the worst crimes of humanity happened. Sephiroth, Zack and Cloud were all experimented on down in that basement. Also Vincent Valentine, once a Turk, now given to fits of turning into a beast grown on the slopes of hell.

Like I said: ultra-creepy. Rude clammed up for good as we approached the town. I glanced over at him. For once I actually wanted to pull my shades down too, but vanity won the day. I tightened my jaw and grip on the control stick as the chopper landed.

Turned out most of the people in the town when we arrived, two years after Meteor, were the remains of Shinra's science division. Doing research in the mansion.

Creeeeeeepy.

Fortunately the nerds were mostly well-behaved with Schala. They looked like they'd rarely seen a girl. Some of the doctors insisted on treating us to dinner. A few minutes in I saw they just wanted to ask her searching questions about her healing ability, her past, her ancestry.

My creep factor ramped up to max. I pushed my chair back, rising. She looked up at me while one of the scientists continued to batter at her. "Bami," I said. "Practice time. Let's go before you get too tired."

She glanced over her shoulder sadly at the fireplace she sat so close to I was surprised her skin wasn't crispy-fried. She got up.

"C'mon," I said, looping an arm possessively around her, glaring at the irritated doctors. I steered her out into the bracing mountain air. She shuddered against me.

"I know," I told her. "You'll warm up once we get started, I promise." I walked us back out of town, away from the reactor and buildings. I lowered my voice. "Stay away from those labcoats. I don't trust them."

"Don't they work for Shinra too?" she said.

I shook my head. "Doesn't matter. The science division doesn't have a great reputation. Personally I'd like to see them all abandoned on some desert island to do their little experiments on each other."

She didn't say anything. I found us a clear spot out of sight of that nightmare's beginning and we trained for a while. The wind was biting cold, and clearly she was having trouble thawing her muscles. I called a halt pretty quickly.

"M-m-maybe if we had second practice around midday," she said, "took a break from th-the…" The wind slapped her face and took her breath away, whipping her hair and my ponytail around. We hurried back to the inn to find the fire banked for the night and the common room empty.

We'd already snagged all the spare blankets in the inn. They made a pretty pathetic pile. I watched her crawling under as I took off my shoes. She convulsed so hard it looked like she was having a seizure. I stripped my pants and shirt and padded to her bedside.

"Scoot over," I told her, and she did. I slid in behind her and wrapped her in my arms, pressing my body flush against hers. Her shivering began to subside in my taut embrace.

"Don't get any bright ideas," I told her to try to alleviate the tension of the moment, and half to myself so my body would quit feeling frisky about holding her. "I'm not that kind of boy."

She laughed sharply, jerking in my arms. I grinned into her jasmine-smelling hair.

"I don't care what you've heard," I said, feigning stiffness and offense. "It takes a lot more than drinks and dancing to get in my y-fronts."

She giggled harder, the laughs bubbling out of her.

"I get the sense you're not taking my virtue seriously!" I whined, grinning when this elicited the desired cackling from her. It didn't matter how easy I found it to make her laugh. It always felt good to hear her loosen up.

"I'm warning you, I've got my lawyer on speed dial," I said. "You assault me and I'll have you in court 'till the end of your natural."

"My natural what? Hair color?" she snickered.

"Are you making fun of my hair?" I snapped. "'Cause you're one to talk! That shit ain't cool, you know. It hurts to be this beautiful,huuurts, I tell you!" I squeezed her hard in my feigned pathos.

She twisted around in my arms, beaming. "You are the absolute limit, Lyrant! I'm going to warm the other side now and pass out, but you can go on being agonizingly awesome."

"When am I ever not?"

She snuggled against my chest with a contented sigh, no longer shivering. I thought I'd follow her right down into sleep, but I didn't. My eyes remained open in the strange dark and frosty moonlight through the windows. I heard the wind moaning around outside. It sounded like some creature come to haunt me for my sins. Misty memories gathered around me and took me on a hellish ride.

I thrashed awake in the dark, gasping, buried in too many covers and boiling hot. The air outside my cocoon was freezing. I saw a shadow silhouetted at the window and yelped. Panic from the nightmare was wiped by panic of a waking one.

Please, please, for the love of Holy, don't let it be Sephiroth or some other genetic experiment gone horribly wrong…! I silently begged.

A fresh shockwave hit me: I was alone in bed and hadn't started out that way. The person I was supposed to protect was gone. I cursed inwardly, heart racing, still unable to speak or move. My eyes adjusted enough that I could spot some details on my nocturnal visitor.

Instantly I felt like a prize fool. Schala stood at the window, wrapped in a blanket. I took one for myself and wrapped up, teeth chattering more in residual adrenalin than cold. I slipped over beside her. She stared out at the spires and shadows of the Nibel mountains.

"Hey," I said. I nudged her. She started, as if she hadn't heard my undignified waking nor been aware of me there. I grabbed her as she stumbled backward. "It's alright, it's me. …Reno," I clarified, wondering if she was asleep or half-clutched by some bad dream of her own. Does she know what happened here?

She relaxed, but only a little, and looked back out the window, eyes wide.

"What's wrong?" I said.

"I don't know," she said softly. "Northward."

"'Northward'?" I repeated. "What's northward?"

"I don't know. Something wrong." She shivered. I put my arms around her and rubbed her back and biceps to try to warm her again.

"You had a nightmare," I said. "Come on, let's get you back to bed. We'll scram in the morning. Everything will look better away from this hellhole." She allowed me to lead her back to bed and said nothing more, but her silence felt tense. Mine was too.

I hate Nibelheim.

Schala—Cosmo Canyon

"What are we doing?" I said, leaning into the cockpit. Reno stared out the window, making no move to open the helicopter door though the blades had nearly spun down after landing. Rude was filing his nails with his gloves folded on one knee.

Reno rolled his eyes at me. "Waiting for the dust to settle, duh, Bami. Look." He clinked his Electro-Mag Rod against the window and I angled further forward, twisting.

"Oh, wow," I said at the nearly-blinding swirl of red dust. "Good idea."

"We've been here a few times before, eh, Rude?" said Reno, lolling his head toward his partner, and noticed Rude's activity. "Again with the nails! If you had hair you'd spend every free second getting every strand in place!"

"Look who's talking," murmured Rude.

"Swear to god, man, just get laid already! Let loose, lose control, get messy with some chickadee and get rid of all that fucking tension." Reno shook his head. "Moron." His eyes caught mine and he rolled his expressively. "Am I right?"

"Fuck if I know," I said with a shrug.

"Oh, Princess Bami does swear!" he crowed, and twisted toward me with his palm up. I smacked it, sharing his grin.

"Damn right she does, Lyrant," I said. "Oh, which reminds me, you know what the name 'Gorun' means in Wutain?"

"Not a clue."

"'Enjoys cleanliness.'"

Reno howled with laughter. "Are you fucking kidding me?! That's perfect!" He elbowed Rude, who scowled behind his glasses at his ebullient partner. "Gorun, she's got your number!"

"Thanks, friend," Rude said to me, dripping with sarcasm.

I beamed at him. "Didn't want you to feel left out, friend."

He sighed loudly and put away his nail file in an inner breast pocket. He began putting on his gloves.

Reno leaned forward and in a stage whisper said, "He's got trimmers, buffers, nail brushes, lint brushes, head polish and all the sunglasses you can eat in that pocket. It's deeper on the inside."

"Oh, just like you!" I burst out, and flushed when I saw how taken aback Reno looked.

"Not so loud!" he said, his smile with an edge to it. "You'll ruin my reputation."

"I'm sorry," I said, fixing my eyes out the window. The air looked nearly clear, so I made for the cabin door to get out of the chopper and away from that expression on his face.

Glorious dry desert heat hit me. I tried not to suck in a deep breath as soon as I was out, mindful of coppery dirt still in the air. I walked off toward the steps leading up to the town.

"Hey, wait up!" Reno shouted, trotting up behind me. "What the hell's the matter with you? There's a reason we're here, you know."

I shrugged, glancing over at him. In the odd light I saw a clarity of detail I never had before and stopped in my tracks, peering at him. The red spikes of hair draping across his face cast distinct shadows on his skin, but two symmetrical red strands did not have corresponding shadows.

"What?" he said. "Dust on my face?" He reached up self-consciously.

I did as well, reaching for his left cheekbone. He twitched but held still, waiting for me to pick off whatever it was. I laid my fingertips on the edge of his eye socket and rubbed outward toward his ear. The red remained in place, distorting slightly with the pull of skin but not smudging.

"It's a tattoo, isn't it?" I said. "They both are."

His eyebrows shot up. "Uh… yeah."

I pulled my hand back, scrutinizing his face anew with this knowledge. "Okay." I resumed my path toward the steps.

"You got a problem with them?" he said aggressively.

"Why would I?"

"I don't know. Why do you even care?"

I didn't answer, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. Something was so messed up about this conversation. He was coming off angry and insecure. His defense mechanisms were clearly malfunctioning, and he wasn't happy about it. I had to take a few moments to figure out how to fix it without appearing to be condescending or letting on that I knew he was in need of reassurance.

"'Cause you're awesome, duh," I said, thwacking him on the arm. "Fishing for compliments again, vain little Lyrant?"

He laughed, and I heard the tension ease. He stretched his arms out over his head. "You know it!" The rocks and light combined to nearly match his hair and tattoo marks, making part of him disappear into the landscape. One of his arms, as it lowered, draped around my shoulders in that ridiculously not-subtle way men have. What would have irritated me from anyone else, from him filled me with the urge to laugh.

"Warm enough now, Bami?" he said. "This place just sucks all the moisture outta you."

"It could be warmer," I said.

"Well, it's no Costa del Sol." He shook his head as we started ascending the long natural stair carved into the rock. "Fucking first vacation in four years, and you show up."

"Hey, I didn't make you carry me to your room!" I protested.

"All right, you tell me: what am I supposed to do when a pretty girl collapses at my feet?"

"And you chose to cut it short and take m…" I stopped short as his words registered. I glanced up at the town starting to edge into view high above. I felt like he'd removed my brain.

"Take what?" he said.

"What…?" I said distractedly.

He snorted. "You're losing it."

Yeah, I know, I thought, not even attempting to say anything else. My brain managed to form the idiotic thought totally unworthy of my age and experience: He thinks I'm pretty! I wanted to kick it back down the stairs.

I clenched my jaw and ignored him as he started to whistle in his self-satisfied way, his arm still flopped across my shoulders.Everything's a resting spot for him, I told myself sternly. It doesn't mean anything. And that's a good thing. Because to him, you'd be just another notch in the bedpost. You don't want to get hurt.

As I healed a child under the watchful eyes of his parents, I became aware that an animal watched me. The green glow from my work made a sheen on the creature's eyes. It looked mostly like a lion. Its mane was a bright red mohawk, the animal equivalent of Reno's hairdo. Feathers and beads clung in its hair. Brands and scars marred its blood-orange hide.

I looked over to meet its gaze. It looked as if it was sizing me up. I felt intimidated. When the glow had faded and I removed my hands, the animal moved forward. No one reacted. I remained where I was, uncertain. Its jaw opened.

"How long have you been able to do that?" it said in a mellifluous male voice.

"A… few months. …Forgive me, I didn't catch your name…?" I felt a little taken aback, but it wasn't like I'd never encountered anything like him before.

"Nanaki, or Red Thirteen, if you like," he said, seating himself before me, front paws drawn together primly. "And you are?"

"Schala Zeal," I said. "Pleased to make your acquaintance." Something about his proper manner made me lapse into the stiff etiquette of my youth.

He watched in silence a few more moments. "Will it disturb your concentration if I ask you about what you are experiencing?"

I shook my head. The green had run out. "As long as you follow along with me as I go to those who need it." I rose, and so did Nanaki.

"Of course," he said. "There is another two doors down."

I pointed at the far wall. "That way, right?"

He nodded, following me out the door. "Have you an awareness of where those with the stigma are?"

"Yes. It's like a pulling."

He asked more and more about my experiences, going back thoroughly over each detail to make sure he understood. I didn't ask why he was asking, although I did wonder at the depth and curious scientific quality to his curiosity. Reno and Rude silently followed us around town.

My attention was thoroughly occupied by answering his questions, healing, and my growing fatigue and cold. I wasn't as able to defend against men who would surreptitiously crouch down beside me on the pretext of watching and take advantage of my preoccupation.

At last I had to interrupt Nanaki. Someone had put their hand up under my shirt and reached around from behind me. I glared back over my shoulder. He didn't meet my eyes, pretending intense focus on my glowing hands on the young woman in front of me.

"You are being really inappropriate, sir. Remove your hands from me at once," I said loudly.

At this, Reno snapped to attention from his casual lean against the wall. "Son of a bitch!" he snarled, spotting what was happening.

The man stilled, but before he could extract his hand from the cookie jar, Nanaki had sunk his teeth into the man's arm and dragged him forcibly off me to slam on the floor. Reno stood over them both a mere heartbeat later, nightstick out and crackling with electricity, leveled at the man's stricken face. Everyone leaped out of the way with gasps and cries of alarm as all this transpired. The woman under my touch whimpered in fear. A child burst into loud wails.

"Everyone out!" Rude barked, raising his hands, unfolding to show his bulk to fullest effect. No one needed to be told twice, but Nanaki and Reno still held my assailant pinned to the floor behind me.

"You shame your tribe," Nanaki snarled. "You shame us all!"

"I was just giving her a massage! She didn't protest! She liked it!" said the assailant.

"Are you fucking deaf as well as well as stupid? Lady just said no!" Reno yelled. I heard the taser engage and the man scream.

"My permission was not requested," I said. "Gentlemen, would you kindly take the matter outside? You're disturbing this poor woman."

"Of course, my lady," said Nanaki, remorse in his tone. "I apologize sincerely and this man will answer for his…"

"Rude, stay and guard her," Reno interrupted. I heard them hauling the man to his feet and out. The door shut. Not once through this did the electric hum stop. A sharp ammonia stink of urine lingered in the air. The woman lying in her bed looked up at me in sincere gratitude.

I heard muffled yelling outside but ignored it, wearied, and looked around the small household. Kitchen seems likely… I thought. Once the green energy dissipated I got up and headed through into the kitchen. Rude stood silently against the door, arms folded. I started rummaging through cabinets.

"Is there something you need?" the woman's voice called from the other room.

"Found it," I called, and filled the bucket I'd located under the tap. I submerged a soap bar and rubbed until suds appeared, set the bar aside, picked up a brush and returned to the main room. I didn't want to do this but it needed doing, and I figured it might as well be my responsibility since I wanted it done the most. I couldn't forget the creepy feel on my body, I couldn't undo what had happened, but I could clean away the external physical evidence of the incident.

I knelt where I'd been, facing the other way, dipped brush in pail and began to scrub at the awful-smelling puddle on the floor my assailant had left upon being attacked. My patient was still too weak to do this, and I felt a little resentful that it fell to my sense of responsibility to take care of it, but at the same time it felt good to rub out the stain of that man from my senses. My body still felt dirty, but I felt an obligation to use what energy I had to help the sickest before I tended to my own emotional needs.

The woman sat up. "What is it?"

"Almost done," I said through my teeth. I was shivering, eager to get back out in the sun. Shouting had faded away into the distance, so whatever was happening out there was continuing to leave my vicinity as I scrubbed and scrubbed.

The smell of flowery soap and cleanliness filled the room. I took brush and bucket back to the kitchen and rinsed both out. The woman approached and touched my arm.

"Let me do this," she said. "You have done so much for me."

I glanced up at her, trembling.

"It is all right," she said, soulful eyes searching mine. "'Thank you' hardly seems like enough for my life. If I had more I could give, I surely would. You are welcome in my home, such as it is, at any time. I promise you will never find that man here."

I nodded, relieved, and walked back to the door. Rude stood there, impassive as ever. I stopped when he failed to give way and looked up at him.

"I'm ready to go," I said.

He stepped aside and opened the door a crack, holding a hand out to me to wait as he checked outside. I waited, and followed him out into the late afternoon sunshine. It wasn't warm enough. I stank of soap but felt no cleaner.

I followed the pulling sensation on automatic. I tended to go into sleepwalk mode toward the end of the day, letting my feet follow the feeling. That day, though, as cold and lethargy overtook me, I felt an altogether different pull from the north, quite far indeed. I remembered waking the night before, with a fear that wasn't mine seeming to radiate from the ground beneath me.

The fear became nuanced as I healed the next two patients in silence. I was relieved of Nanaki's questions enough that I could feel more clearly what was emerging below benevolent healing. Disgust and revulsion lay wrapped at the core of the fear. Quite similar to my own feelings being fondled earlier.

I must be projecting, I thought uncertainly. The Lifestream isn't afraid of rape. What could assault a planet? In my exhaustion I'm hallucinating, melding my unconscious with my surroundings. Like a waking dream, if my body is violated, suddenly the world isn't safe.

Nanaki and Reno tracked me down.

"The matter has been dealt with," Nanaki said. "He has been turned out of the village. I cannot apologize enough for that man's shameful conduct. It in no way reflects my people's character. I cannot even imagine what drove him to do such a thing, when you have given your strength and comfort to save us all."

"It happens," I murmured. I didn't want to talk. My head hurt.

"Not here," said Nanaki. "I am ashamed that where deferential undying gratitude should have been displayed, you were instead attacked."

Reno whipped a fur blanket out of nowhere I could see and snapped it open with a flair, then draped it around my shaking shoulders. He leaned in to my ear as I did so, and said, "Next time don't wait so fucking long to say something. I told Nanaki to shut his trap and leave you alone while you're working so this won't happen again, but you've gotta interrupt if someone is touching you. It's not okay. It's never okay, not even a little. I can't fucking do my job if you don't let me, Bami."

I bowed my head, too tired to be properly angry and frustrated. I heard footfalls and glanced up to see Rude step over to Reno and lean in to murmur in the redhead's ear. Reno's frowned deepened, his blue eyes widened, and finally he twisted to regard his partner in shock. Rude stared back through those one-way mirrors.

Reno turned and walked out without another word, slamming the door behind him. I shifted my eyes to Rude, curious. The man clasped his hands in front of him and did his impassive stance. Nanaki slunk away.

I turned, mustering strength. "Nanaki," I said. "I bear neither you nor your people any malice or resentment for one man's foolish actions. I do not assume the morals or characters of a people from any representative of it. Thank you for acting in my defense. I hope I have not created problems when my whole purpose in coming here was to solve them."

His tail and head lifted. He came up to me and bowed his head.

"Your generosity of spirit humbles me, my lady," he murmured. When he lifted his eyes, they again reflected green pouring out of me. "Anything you ever need, I will upon my honor provide you."

I nodded, even more exhausted now. Nanaki left in lighter spirits and I leaned forward to rest my head on the bed between my arms while the green continued to stream out of me. I shivered as the fur blanket slipped down off my shoulders. As I shut my eyes, I was aware of Rude pulling it back up over me.

The next thing I knew, someone was touching me, and I was asleep. I thrashed, my body tightening, instinct coming awake before awareness and reason. My fist connected, I heard a crack and a sharp cry. My eyes flew open and up. Rude staggered back, clutching his face.

"Oh, no!" I gasped, clambering to my feet. "I'm so sorry! Here, please, I can help…!" I reached up toward his face. He lowered his hands and with them came the broken remains of his shades, one lens shattered. His nose bled. My hands flared green as they cupped it.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so so sorry, Rude," I babbled, ashamed. "Your poor nose, your poor glasses…!"

"I was planning to carry you to the inn. I didn't want to wake you," he said, eyes broadcasting remorse and pain full-blast; without his glasses he's like a blazing neon sign of every emotion he's feeling.

I shuddered so hard with the cold filling me up. "I tend to strike out before I'm fully awake. Some… unfortunate things have happened to me in my sleep, when I'm helpless to stop it." A flash of the Time Devourer filled my mind, an entity that had imprisoned me and used my power to try to destroy my world, leaching me of it in the process. My planet's calamity from the skies.

The green ceased and I pulled back, so cold I dropped to a huddle on my knees, teeth chattering. Rude reached into his inner pocket, producing glasses, covering those too-vulnerable eyes. He plucked the blanket off the floor and knelt to wrap it around me.

I looked up at him, and though his nose was fixed and the glasses replaced, I still felt awful for having punched him and still saw wet blood on his upper lip. "I'm sorry, my friend."

"No need to apologize, my friend." He helped me up off the floor and steered me outside. My eyes kept falling shut as he walked me to the inn, arms firm around me and steps guiding mine. I felt numb except to the draw of the last few ill in the village and that distant haunting insistence of wrongness to the far north.

I roused myself, reflecting on just what I was about to walk into, not knowing the reason for Reno's precipitous exit earlier.

"What did you say to Reno?" I said.

"I tried to pull his head from his ass," he said. "He needed to go cool off."

"Is he likely to still be mad at me? Should I stay in your room?" I said nervously.

"He's mad at himself, and unfortunately took it out on you," he said. "You're welcome to stay with me tonight. If he gives you a hard time I'm happy to explain things again, in a language he'll understand." Rude extended one arm, his leather-gloved hand clenched in a fist.

I laughed. "Now that I'd like to see—Rude versus Reno."

Rude shrugged. "It happens occasionally. Sometimes to better our skills. Sometimes…"

"…to better your friendship?"

He smiled slightly. "You could put it like that. It's kept me from killing the selfish, vain, arrogant little prick once or twice."

I smiled softly to myself at this. We reached the inn door and he halted. He apparently stared at the door as I looked up at him, waiting, knowing he was gathering words.

"It isn't what you think," he murmured. "He thinks you are too good for him. The closer he gets to you, the harder he'll try to push you away." He put his hand on the handle with these last stunning words and opened the door.

As he guided me inside, my thoughts fell down a long deep well inside me. I felt so worn out just by the act of hearing what he had to say I wanted to sit on the floor. I managed to make it up the stairs. Rude paused outside one of the doors in the hall.

"What's it gonna be?" he said. "Reno's room, or mine?"

Rude's, my logical brain piped up, ready with a bucketful of reasoning. Come on, no question. It has to be his. You're getting too close to Reno, Rude just told you that in no uncertain terms. Unless you want to wind up hurting both yourself and Reno, you have to stay in Rude's room tonight.

"Reno's," my treacherous mouth said. Rude shrugged, knocked on the door, and left me in front of it, using his key to open the next one down. I curled the soft fur tighter around me, swaying a little without his support, both physically and psychologically.

The door in front of me flew open. Reno stood there, scowling fiercely. My regret at what I'd just said quadrupled in the face of his pissiness. Then, just as suddenly, the look vanished, swallowed by mild surprise.

"Oh, it's you," he said, and stepped aside, pulling the door wide. I breathed out and entered.

"I need a bath," I murmured, heading for the bathroom.

"Yeah, of course," he said. "I think I managed to leave one towel dry. If not I'll get you another, okay?" He shut the door.

As if nothing had happened, I thought with intense relief. Rude's obviously mistaken. Reno has a temper, I know that, and it can temporarily overwhelm his reason, but he's a professional. I smiled to myself as I ran the bath. Deputy director of the Turks, as he's quick to point out. There was a problem with a mission, and the problem is sorted. Nothing more to say or do. Just rest and do the work that comes tomorrow.

I soaked in the obscenely hot bath until physical and psychological aches and dirtiness washed away. When I got out my fingers and toes had wrinkled to a painful degree and I didn't care. At least I could feel them.

I used the last dry towel. It was not nearly enough to dry my ridiculously thick long hair, which I braided so it wouldn't be an unmanageable fright in the morning. I hung my towel on the rail and grinned at the others flopped all over the bathroom in the same manner Reno flopped every inch of himself on everything.

His apartment must be an unholy wreck, I thought as I brushed my teeth. I poked around in the open case on the sink and found Reno's primping kit just as exhaustive as Rude's. I snickered. Then, curious, I popped off the head of his shaver and tapped some of the contents into my hand. Tiny, tiny burnt-orange filaments.

Natural redhead! It had been difficult to tell since his chest was either naturally hairless, or somehow otherwise depilated.

I washed them down the drain, reassembled the razor and put it back exactly as I'd found it. I flipped off the light as I left the bathroom and found the bedroom already dark.

I paused to let my eyes adjust enough to see which bed was occupied and headed for the other. I peeled back the covers and sat down. I saw his pale skin was reflecting the moonlight because he lay on top of the covers in the warm night air. I curled up underneath mine, the fur blanket spread on top. I enjoyed my post-bath humidity.

Still, something lingered to nag at me, that northward pull that was just enough to keep me awake. I flipped over to my other side. I felt beyond exhausted at this point.

"Bami?" he said.

"Yes, Lyrant?" I said, marveling that he could make 'bitch' sound so kind, like a pet name.

He didn't answer right away.

My eyes opened, pointed not at him but at the wall. "What is it?"

"You're not…" He stopped.

I rolled back toward him and tucked my arm under my head. "Not what?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Goodnight." He rolled away with an irritated sigh. If it hadn't been for what he did next, I might have let it end there, but he had to curl up into a little protective fox-ball.

He's hurting, I thought, surprised and dismayed. I sat up, pulled the covers back, and got to my aching exhausted feet enough to bounce over to his bed. I poked him in the back.

"What?!" he snapped. "I said forget it!"

I poked him again, and he whirled around in a flailing rage.

"No, I'm not mad at you," I said. I held my breath in the silence that followed. And kept holding it. Lots more silence filled the room, thickly.

He jerked upright, and I saw moonlight reflecting off his wide eyes. "How did you know?" he hissed guardedly. "Did Rude say something to you? I'll kill that prissy little bastard!"

I put a hand on his shoulder. "Lyrant. I guessed. That's all. Can we go to sleep now? I'm really tired."

"Well, shit, Bami, it's not my fault you feel a need to make everyone feel better before you can conk out," he said.

I laughed softly as I belly-flopped back in my bed. "Excuse me for breathing, I'm sure," I said.

"You are such a nosy little bitch," he said, his mattress bouncing noisily as he dropped. "I miss my privacy."

"Exhibitionists have privacy, Mr. I'm-too-sexy-for-my-underwear?"

"Ha! Knew you thought I was sexy!"

"Not as sexy as you think you are."

"C'mon, admit it, you dream about me."

"I dream about a little fox following me around yapping all the time, is that you?"

"It's a sexy fox, isn't it?

"Ew, Lyrant!" I hurled one of my pillows at him.

"Hey!" Another pillow sailed over me and hit the wall.

"You throw like a girl. Look like one, too."

"Heeey!" He sat up and hurled another pillow at me, this time whacking into the side of the bed and falling to the floor. He howled in frustration as I laughed. "You. Little. Bitch." And then he jumped on me.

I was not expecting it, but fortunately the instincts and moves he'd drilled into me kicked in. I rolled, tucking my arms to give me leverage to fling him off as he landed. I used his momentum to toss him against the wall. The air rushed out of him in a gasp and I sprang up, backing away from the bed.

"Yeah, that's right!" he said. "You'd better run! 'Cause now you've pissed me off!"

"Oh yeah?" I panted. "Is that why you're grinning?"

He lunged and grappled. It was a short fight. I didn't have it in me and clearly he was full of energy. He pinned me facedown on the floor, wrists locked over my head, his feet firmly planted behind my knees.

"Feel better?" I mumbled into the bruising wooden floorboards.

"Much!" he said. "Give up?"

"Mm-hmm," I said.

He released me and stood up to stretch with a satisfied groan. I shut my eyes, pulling my arms under my head. I had pushed myself past limits of my endurance, past reason, past sanity, past numbness, and now I couldn't even think. I heard his bed's springs creak, the covers rustle, then blessed silence. I pressed the floor away and crawled, inch by painful inch, back to my bed, slithering in from the foot.

"'Night," he said.

I didn't have the energy to reply. As soon as I gained the pillow I stopped moving and let sleep take me over.