He looked at her, eyes searching and intense for just a few seconds, and then he let the sword go in resignation. "Kira," He said it carefully, like he might startle her, "I'm trying to help you, okay?"

Kira held the hilt of the sword with a steel grip, looking at Stiles with her lips taught and brows drawn. She took a step backward and Stiles took one forward to match. "Kira, come on. At least let me explain, or—"

Another step back. Kira kept the sword at her side, not having the conviction to raise it against her friend in earnest.

Another step forward. Benign, closing in with tensed shoulders, worry.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something else, to explain, but Kira had already turned tail. Her sneakers squeaked against the wood of the gym floor, and the doors flew open as she shoved past them. She ran until she got back to the main building, the campus almost entirely empty, but stopped herself mere feet away from the door to Dr. Sardona's classroom.

It was quiet here. She could hear the voices beyond the door, the sound of the marker against the whiteboard, and it felt peaceful. Normal. If she opened this door, she would ruin it. How could this exist alongside the threat of what she'd just seen? How could both be reality?

She caught her breath slowly, leaving her hand hovering over the handle of the door as she looked inside. There was Lydia, pacing back and forth in front of a crowded room of AP Bio students. Scott, in the front row.

In that moment, Scott looked up from his notes towards the door. Kira pressed her black flat against the wall beside the entrance, letting her eyes close.

She didn't want to ruin it.

Things had just gotten back to normal, and it felt like she was the only problem left. Her lack of control. And now—

The door at the end of the hall slamming open broke her contemplation, and she felt her breath hitch in her throat when she saw it was Stiles.

"You—forgot—your bag," He was breathing hard, evidence he'd run, and looked just as exhausted as she'd have expected Stiles to be.

Her anxiety spiked. So did the brightness of the lights in the hallway.

There was silence from behind the door, and then a few laughs. Students expecting the lights to blow or go out, and then relieved when they didn't.

"Stay away from me," Kira warned, putting the sword between herself and Stiles. She was afraid; she was afraid of him, of herself, of the way the lights were fluctuating—"I'm going to tell Scott."

Scott, his hearing as sharp as ever, could hear the conversation through the door. His pencil sat stagnant on the page, and he cocked his head to focus.

"You can if you want," Stiles assured, "I was going to. Am going to, present tense. I just—I've been trying to figure out how, y'know? It's got—he's going to think what you're thinking right now, and I can't have him lose faith in me. I can't let that happen again. It'd break us apart."

"And I thought," Stiles continued, "If I could help you—if I could prove to you that I know what I'm doing, that I can help you, you'd… have my back."

The lights flickered again, and Stiles looked up as they went dark. "Plus, bonus for you, that might stop happening."

Kira shut her eyes, trying to focus, trying to think.

With the lights shot, the review couldn't carry on. When Dr. Sardona announced that they'd have a short make-up session the following Thursday as a preface to letting them out early, Scott was the first to the door. He was hoping to catch Kira and Stiles mid-conversation, and nearly hit Stiles with the door on his way out.

"What was that about?" He asked, looking at Kira (and assuming Stiles, who was behind the door, had moved along).

"The lights? I—sorry, I'm…" She looked at Stiles through the glass pane of the door, "Still geared up from our match."

"Dude, ow." Stiles leaned out from behind the door, "Almost broke my nose there."

"No, not the lights." He moved out of the way for the other students to leave, corralling Kira and Stiles off to the side near the lockers, "I heard you through the door—not that I was trying to like, invade your privacy or anything, but I picked it up—"

Stiles looked devastated, and tilted his head back towards the ceiling with a dejected huff of an exhale. "Werewolf hearing. Right."

"I thought we weren't doing secrets anymore," He looked between the two of them expectantly, "Whatever it is—whatever you don't want to tell me—"

"Ohhh my god, this isn't how I wanted to do this." Stiles ran a hand through his hair, looking at Scott now. He only glanced at Kira for a half-second, appraising her expression and the situation, and took a risk. A roll of the dice.

"I was just… okay, dude, I… I was just. Augh." He turned himself around once, "I like dudes, okay? I like dudes. I mean, I like girls too, that's—that's still a thing. And I—"

Scott laughed, barely shaking his head, "Oh my god, man, I thought something serious was happening. Kira sounded—"

"Yeah, she didn't take it well? Not her fault, I made it sound like it was about—you, when I was telling her, which it totally wasn't. And me saying that makes it sound like it totally was, but I swear to god—"

Now Scott was laughing, and put a hand on Stiles's shoulder, "Dude, me and your dad have been banking on this for like, three years. He asked me if you were gay when we were Freshmen. I said 'no way, man, Stiles is in love with Lydia'. And then Lydia didn't know you existed, and then we started hanging out with Derek, and—"

Kira stayed quiet throughout the exchange.

Stiles's gamble had paid off.

"Hookay, stop right there." Stiles cut him off, "So you knew—"

"Suspected."

Kira pulled her phone out of her pocket, and it caught Stiles's attention immediately. "My dad's texting me," She explained, putting her phone away again, "He's leaving, I've got to go."

"Oh, yeah—" Scott turned back to her, "We'll do this again next Friday. And dinner at my place on Saturday, right?"

"Right," She nodded, trying to act like everything was okay. She wasn't as good as it as she would've liked, and Scott picked up on it, but knew here was neither the time nor place to pry. "I'll see you guys, okay?"

Scott gave her a kiss on the cheek, and Stiles sent her off with a "Hey, text me."

The text from her dad had been a lie, and some part of Kira felt like Scott and Stiles knew it. They were both more perceptive than she'd have ever imagined, and the paranoia was only intensified now that she felt guilty for hiding something from Scott. She could have said something right then and there—she could have squared up and told Scott that the Nogitsune was standing beside him—but she hadn't. She wasn't sure. She wasn't confident that Stiles wasn't lying. And if she threw him under the bus, regardless of his true nature or intentions, she might just lose the only hope she had of learning to control herself.

And if she was being honest, she was desperate. Stiles was right. She couldn't control herself, she couldn't pull her weight, and it was only a matter of time before she got someone killed because she couldn't reign in her power.

The idea of being responsible for something like that only added to the tumult of confusion crashing through her mind.

She waited on the curb near her dad's car until he actually texted her, but when her phone went off, it wasn't her dad at all—it was Scott.

'Hey, that felt weird' the text read.

'You okay?'

She held her phone in both hands, not any less conflicted. On one hand, to lie now would be the start of keeping secrets—big secrets. Secrets that could really hurt people if it turned out she was wrong in trusting Stiles (the fact that she had to even question it was enough to make her feel terrible). On the other, if she told Scott and Stiles was telling the truth, he'd probably do everything in his power to put the Nogitsune to rest for good, which could be disastrous if Stiles was telling the truth and could help her learn control.

A second later, another message popped up on her screen. This time from Stiles.

'Thanks for not saying anything to Scott.'

'I owe you one.'

Kira bit her lip, reading both sets of messages several times, and her distress didn't go unnoticed by her dad when he walked up.

"Kira?" He asked, waving his hand in front of her face, "How long have you been waiting here? You should've texted me."

She shook herself out of her worrying, moving to stand so she could take her seat on the passenger side of the car. "Sorry, I didn't… I was thinking about other things."

"Looked like it. What's on your plate? Maybe I can help." He went around and took the driver's seat, "Contrary to popular belief, I was a teenager once too."

She slumped back in the chair, still flipping through her phone. "If you had to choose between something dangerous that might get you something you want more than anything or playing it safe, what would you pick?"

"Mmm, that's a tough one." He backed out, focusing on the road, "Can you give me more specifics?"

"…Say that you could get to the top of the class if you trust one of your classmates to help you study, but the classmate might have probably been to jail. And you aren't sure if you can trust him to help you study without… cheating. And it could get you in trouble. But you aren't sure, because you know he lies—or he used to lie, but doesn't anymore. You really want to get to the top of the class because if you don't you can't get into college."

"But if you don't trust him to help you study, you aren't guaranteed to pass the class at all. You have a lot of friends that are trying to help you, but none of them are teaching you in a way that makes sense. Plus, if you don't trust him, you have to report him for cheating because even though you're not sure he's cheating, you know a lot of people will get hurt if he is. Does that make sense?"

Her dad frowned, trying to put it together. "Not really. But as your father, I'll offer you some tired and tried advice; slow and steady always wins the race. There aren't any fast tracks through life, Kira. Especially not for a kitsune." He gave her a knowing look, "What do you feel is right?"

She took a moment to think, flipping back and forth between the conversations in her phone. "What I feel is right and what I want aren't the same thing."

"Ah, so it's an adult decision," he nodded, "That happens a lot, believe it or not. It comes down to responsibility. If trusting this cheater doesn't work out, if everything goes wrong, will you be able to look back and say trusting him was the responsible thing to do?"

"…No," She admitted, tapping back to the conversation she had going with Scott. Her thumb hovered over the call button, and she sighed.

"What?" Her dad asked, glancing away from the road for just a fraction of a second.

"It's just—it feels like everything's getting back to normal around here. As normal as Beacon Hills can be, I guess, and if I… If I out the cheater, things won't be normal anymore. Scott has to study for his AP exams, Lydia is just filling out so many college applications, Malia just finished dealing with her mom—"

They came to a red light.

"I don't want to ruin that for them."

"Kira, maybe you should just tell me what's going on. No metaphors this time."

She set her phone down on her lap, "Today, while I was in the gym with Scott and Stiles, the fox—my fox—came out. I don't remember what happened, I still can't control it, but Stiles… he fought me. He was in the ring with me, and Scott said he matched every swing of my sword."

"Okay," Her dad nodded, following along, "That's weird, but—"

"No, listen, he—he said he could help me learn control. He said he could help me learn how to control that part of me, and that- I could feel it in the air—that fog. The Nogitsune."

The light turned green. Kira's dad didn't budge.

"That's… not possible."

The car behind them honked, and their car jolted forward like it was surprised.

"Kira, that's not possible." Her dad reiterated, struggling to focus on the road. "The Nogitsune is gone."

"It's a trickster," Kira reminded him, "and a good actor. I know what I felt. He was using a sword just as well as me."

"We have to call Mr. Stilinski." Her dad started, mind running a mile a minute, "And Scott. Maybe your mom will know more—"

"Dad, no, wait," Kira interrupted, "he said he wasn't… possessed. He said he was in control."

"Oh, I'm sure he said a lot of things. I'm sure he's been saying a lot of things." Her dad sounded mad now, speech articulated and crisp against the rev of the accelerator, "If that demon is still out there, then Beacon Hills is in more danger than it's ever been in before."

Scott looked down at his phone, waiting for it to show that Kira was typing back. He was riding on the passenger side of Stiles's jeep with the window down—the sun had set, and they were on their way to pick up some fast food from one of the dives closer to the vets office where Scott still worked. The radio played gently between the two of them, and Scott let his hand hang out over the bare road.

He let his senses spread out over the car, over the road, over the buildings and into the night. His town, his home, his to protect.

But, just like earlier, something was wrong. It was killing him trying to place it, what was out of place, why it set him on edge so badly—

"You hear anything from Kira?" Stiles asked, turning into the parking lot for the dump of a restaurant, "She seemed kind of… I don't know, shaken up."

"Yeah, I got that too." He admitted, "I think losing control scares her."

"Doesn't it scare you, too?" Stiles asked, letting the jeep sputter into silence once they parked, "Maybe not anymore, but it used to. When you were just starting out."

Scott leaned back in his chair, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, it did. I just wish there was somebody around to help Kira. Her mom's the only kitsune we know, and sometimes I think she doesn't have any idea what she's doing."

"No kidding. The skinwalker thing was a little…"

"Crazy," Scott finished for him, getting out of the car, "Kira's going to be able to handle it. I know it. She just needs a little more confidence in herself."

"Not an easy thing to build," Stiles got out on his side, too, "It's kind of hard when all the exercises you do don't feel like they count—like the fight we had today. That was something, right? Maybe all we need to do is come up with something that'll make her feel like she's really got to buckle down and get it under control."

"What, like a fake enemy?" Scott asked.

"Exactly like a fake enemy. One she doesn't know is fake—that's the important part." He held the door open for Scott, and the two of them got settled in one of the dive's barely-held-together faux leather chairs. "We'd make it so she always wins against whatever she's fighting, so she'll have the confidence to take on whatever comes her way when it's actually happening."

"…That could actually work," Scott admitted.

Stiles leaned back, satisfied with himself, "That's why I said it. We'd have to do some research and dig up a few supernaturals in Beacon Hills Kira doesn't know, but it could be worth it."

The two of them ordered the usual (also known as 'the grossest, most delicious tacos that a dine-in-dive could muster'), and sat in for a while. A few other kids dropped in, a few truckies making their way through the town, and Scott and Stiles went through their phones trying to draft up a threat that would be just convincing enough to work.

"What about a rogue werewolf?" Stiles asked, "We know a few omegas that could play the part. Give him some crazy motivation, set up some scenes around town…"

"I don't want to actually put anyone in danger." Scott countered, "If Kira can't control herself, she could really hurt someone."

Their waitress came by with a split check, and Scott and Stiles reached into their pockets in unison to pay their bills. "So, what?" Stiles continued, digging through his right pocket and then his left, "We can't just leave the clues around without an actual enemy for her to go up against—augh, damn it. Left my wallet in the car."

He patted his pockets, "Be right back."

Scott nodded at him, setting his own payment on the table. Stiles hopped down the front steps of the diner, hitting the unlock button on his keys before remembering the battery had died two years ago.

He walked around to the side of the place, finding his car exactly where he'd left it. The only thing that was new was the guy trying to use a coat-hanger to break into it.

"Hey! Hey, asshole! That's my car!" Stiles was practically jogging over, and leaned down to pick up the first thing he saw on the ground. It happened to be a half-broken beer bottle. He made like he was going to throw it, "Back off!"

The man turned around, revealing a gaunt face and wide eyes. He dropped the coat hanger, but pulled a small steak knife from the loop of his jeans. His hands didn't shake.

Stiles kept the bottle in his hand, grip tight, "Listen, buddy, you don't want to do this. You're probably high out of your mind right now," Seeing as he had the look of a heroin addict, "But you do not want to do this. I'm a high school student, does that car look like I have any money?"

The man said nothing in return, twisting the knife in his hand so that it could be brought down if needed. For a brief moment it was visible under the street-lamp, and Stiles saw that it wasn't a steak-knife at all. It was rough, black stone, crudely carved.

"Where's the Alpha?" The man slunk closer, "Where is Scott McCall?"