Tamaki was accustomed to fighting for her space.

Quietly, so that she wouldn't reap the retribution of peers who didn't understand, but if she wanted something, she was used to grabbing a hold of it and not letting go.

Her home with her parents was her one stronghold where she could relax. Because they didn't question anything she did. They didn't think she had anything other than the best of intentions at heart. Because they didn't think her Lucky Lecher Lure was anything more than the quirk of birth that she had been saddled with, no different than her flames, just a little less… marketable, as an employee. Or as a nun, because she always knew she wanted to be active in the church. And oh boy, did she want it. Her parent's approval made it seem that much more reachable.

But that dream was both the hurdle and the goal.

Because the church was a super terrible place to have a curse that demanded an indecent exhibition of skin.

It had reared its ugly head in middle school, and hadn't let her alone since. At the worst possible times, at any possible time, with strangers, with friends. Classmates were the worst of it. They talked, a lot. It didn't take long for stories to circulate through the entire school. "Tamaki was caught flashing again. I heard it was a teacher, this time." "No shame at all. Her family must be so embarrassed. I feel sorry for them." It followed her like some manner of sucking miasma, cruel whispers always wafting at the very edges of her hearing. She could run from it for a short while—or, more accurately, distance herself away from it—but as soon as any target wandered into range, it lashed out immediately. And it superseded everything; her reflexes, her self-control, her very nature, none of it seemed to matter. The curse came first.

With other people, too. It wasn't ever "Tamaki with the good grades," or "Tamaki who's always helpful," or "Tamaki who's always good to her friends." Just "Tamaki who pretends to accidentally fall out of her clothes." Everything good she did, all her hard work, took a back seat to that.

Even her sudden manifestation as a Third Gen had only drawn attention away from her curse very briefly. After all, it hadn't taken long for her detractors to point out that her flames sprouted from her butt.

She felt bad liking them. Her twin tails. Like the ones on her head, they reminded her of a cat.

She found it even harder to not like them when she sprouted actual fire ears, too.

She had hoped that her newfound abilities would burn the curse away, use it as fuel, incinerate it like rubbish. Unfortunately, the two entities ignored each other entirely; her curse, it seemed, was not at all afraid of fire.

She had worked hard to control them—both her flames and her curse, to variable levels of success—alone on the sports field after school, and kept pushing her grades and her devotion to the church until she qualified to take the entrance exams to the Fire Force. She was ecstatic; brigade nuns and priests were just the coolest. Most were stationed at Companies 1 and 6; yes, every house was required by law to have someone ordained to perform last rights before engaging an infernal, but only the First and Sixth Brigades had whole regiments of just clergy. Company 1 was her goal, her dream (no offense meant at all to Company 6 and the miracles that she had heard that came out of there), and even if she had to drag the weight of her curse behind her, she would get there. With her family pushing at her back, it seemed achievable.

It was achievable.

It was.

When the sealed, ornate envelope had arrived at her house, her parents had waited for her to come home and open it. She had screeched so loud she was sure her neighbors three blocks over heard it.

She was actually going. There was a probationary period, and she had to clear the physical assessment held by the company officers on the first day, but it was well within her grasp, and she was not going to let go.

Her damned curse almost scuttled the whole thing.

The grounds of Company 1 were even more expansive once she was required to navigate it. Absolutely beautiful, though. She could get lost here, in a good way. It was easy to forget this was a fully functional arm of the Fire Force. Maybe because she hadn't seen its claws yet.

Speaking of getting lost here… the beautiful grounds did contain several sweeping outdoor flights of stairs. Which she tripped down as she was distracted by the grand architecture. She caught air, and all she could think of as she fell was which articles of clothing were going to come flying off on her way to the ground, out in the middle of a large courtyard, in full view of a good couple dozen veteran members of the cathedral. It was terrible enough when it happened in the company of classmates, but this—

"Whoa there!"

She never made it to the bottom. Someone managed to grab firmly onto one of her wrists, halting her fall entirely. The big hand tightened only slightly, hauling her back up to her feet with little effort.

"My stars, that was about to be a painful fall, little miss!"

He was even more intense up close.

Tall, broad-shouldered to match his broad grin, star-shaped pupils to let people know to expect quite a lot of fire out of him. Even his hand on her wrist burned. In a nice way.

Also, he had just put a hard stop on the activation of her curse.

He had stopped her curse.

With his bare hands.

She was still fully clothed as she stood there, mouth agape.

"Rekka, what did you just do? Her mouth is open like she's breathing, but I am not sure she's actually breathing."

He also wasn't alone. All three of the Company's lieutenants were here. All of them. They were impressive from afar, and right intimidating close up. Burning hot and frigid cold and a warm medium that still left the distinct impression that they had more than earned their rank.

She really should probably start breathing again now, though.

She managed to hastily smooth her habit, and give a deep, respectful bow.

"T-thank you very much, Lieutenant Rekka! For saving me."

If possible, his grin got broader.

"My stars, my name proceeds me, it seems!"

"It seems." Lieutenant Karim was almost the complete opposite, no smile at all and a voice that could cool a hot day, the serious mirror to Rekka's… everything, apparently. Not that she would ever dare drop even a mote of disrespect anywhere remotely close to any of them, but she got the distinct feeling that if anyone of the lieutenants could get backs to straighten and salutes to fly, it would be him. It was working on her right now, pinned hard under his scrutiny. "Given that I haven't ever seen you here before, I take it you're one of our next batch of recruits?"

"Yes, sir, Lieutenant Karim!" Because, yes, she did enough research to know the names of her would-be superiors, and she wanted to make sure they knew it. She threw a sharp salute.

"Huh." He adjusted his grip on his massive, ornate horn. She had heard rumors about what he did with it, and for an instrument that was basically an oversized, weaponized trombone, it was rather intimidating to be this close to. "I am going to give you two pieces of advice for you to take or leave, and you can take them or leave them as you see fit."

"Yes sir!"

"First, we don't salute here. This is a cathedral. This is the cathedral, bar the one the Emperor resides in."

"Yes sir, sorry sir!" And she immediately pitched her hands into the sign to Sol. Well, duh, that made sense. How had she not gotten that? She hoped her ears weren't visibly burning.

"Try not to scare all the new nuns today, Karim." Lieutenant Rekka's smile hadn't fallen an inch. If anything it was set to split his face wide open.

"Hush, Rekka, he's not even being mean." Lieutenant Huo Yan hadn't yet removed his hands from inside his sleeves, fully content to be the calm buffer. "Besides, the sooner she learns it, especially before going in front of Captain Burns, the better it will be for her."

"Better if he puts a starry smile on that scary face of his, though."

Lieutenant Karim's lip twitched, like he was trying very hard to ignore the conversation at his back.

"Second," and his tone had cooled further, though she wasn't yet sure how much was because of her or them, "I take it, given the style of your habit, that you are here as a Fire Soldier, and not just clergy?"

"Yes sir!"

"Then your second piece of advice is: make it to the training grounds before we do, or you'll be late, and disqualified for being late."

"Y-yes sir!" She gave another sign to Sol, and bowed again. "Thank you very much for your council!"

"See? Scaring all the nuns!"

"Rekka—"

She didn't stay to hear the rest; it wasn't her business anyhow. She had been given her first assignment, and she wouldn't fail on such a pitiable technicality as simply being late. She began to jog down the path, hoping that she remembered enough of the instructions to get herself there without wasting time getting lost.

From behind her, Lieutenant Rekka was shouting.

"Don't let his scary face chill your enthusiasm! Run like you've got nothing to lose! Run like you've got everything to lose!" Tamaki looked over her shoulder just enough to see him waving spiritedly after her. "You can do it! Show us what you've really got in the tank!"

Run like you've got everything to lose. He had no idea at all. She had come this far, and she wasn't going to stop now. Tamaki was used to hanging on and not letting go.

Her jog became a sprint immediately, and she threw all the energy she had, a considerable amount, into her legs. She had always been a good runner, when her curse didn't go and screw it up. She could go fast. She would go fast. Like a cat, if she could, where her feet barely touched the ground.

Cats had the benefit of four legs though, and tails for balance.

She had tails. Two of them, even.

Her blood boiled and sang, and the scenery flew by. She barely had time to register landmarks as she made her turns. Huh, she thought the training grounds had been further away from the main courtyard of the Cathedral.

It wasn't until she was brushing dirt from her hands, standing in the back row of new recruits, that she realized she had run there on her hands and her feet. That sure explained the stares.

It actually took a few more minutes for the lieutenants to arrive, and Rekka smiled right at her the minute he rounded the corner. She was prepared to sink right into the pavement in embarrassment.

"Yeah! My stars, that's what I'm talking about! Left a nice trail of smoke for us to follow, too! That's the spirit!" She didn't think that grin ever left his face. "I sure hope all the rest of you have that kind of oomph in you, too!"

Praise was the last thing she thought she would get for that stunt. It wouldn't be the last time, either. Lieutenant Rekka was quite open with what he thought about her fiery cat tails, and Lieutenant Huo Yan was always gently encouraging regarding her… unique… combat style. Lieutenant Karim was… blunt, but he never had any particular disdain about how she used her ignition ability.

And, to her immense surprise, her curse was almost a non-issue for them. It still showed up, of course, which led to the usual whispers from her peers, but the first time it reared its head in front of them, fully, she got help from who she thought was the least likely person.

Because of course it would show up right at the beginning of mass. She had nothing to trip on but the immaculately smooth carpet in the isles between the pews. Which meant that was exactly what she tripped on. Almost everything below her habit simply fell away, in front of the eyes of not only the other rookie soldiers, but all three lieutenants. Thank Sol for small mercies, Captain Burns was far enough ahead, with his back to them, so as to not see her embarrassment.

The sneers started almost immediately. She had hoped people here were less willing to be so loudly vulgar about it, but, if anything, it was like it had gotten worse with age. She apologized to nobody in particular, and tried to both cover herself and feel around for the rest of her habit. To protect herself from the stares. And the… sudden cold?

The jeering crowd didn't seem to notice.

"In case you didn't know, Tamaki, the chapel is a terrible place to have your tits out."

"In case you didn't notice, rookie, the chapel is a terrible place to have your complete lack of respect for another's modesty out."

The sudden, deafening silence ran down the pews hand in hand with the deepening cold. It hadn't been this freezing when she'd entered, had it? She could quite literally see her breath in the air. Which meant the one person capable of lowering the temperature with an ignition ability was very, very pissed. She raised her eyes from the floor, she was at least brave enough to take the disappointment from her superiors head on, only to find the icy barb was not aimed anywhere near her direction. Lieutenant Karim had several rookies all pinned under his stare, and not a one of them happened to be her.

"Watch your mouth. We won't tolerate your vulgarity in here."

"But Tamaki—"

"Fire Soldier Kotatsu tripped and fell, and your response, in that uniform, as both crewmember and clergy, was grossly inappropriate." The hard, serious edge to his voice was quite sharp now, like broken glass. Or ice. She shivered, and not all of it was from the cold. He had one of her classmates trapped hard under a glare, and oh boy was she glad it wasn't her. "You are standing in a cathedral of Company 1. We take only the best here, and we expect only your best in return. Is this behavior your best, Fire Soldier?"

Her classmate fumbled through a clumsy sign to Sol, and an almost sloppier bow.

"N-no, sir." He managed to cast a look back at her, pure unbridled disgust, like it was her fault he was getting raked over the coals. Or whatever the frozen analogy to coals were. "Nor was it hers."

Lieutenant Karim let out a noise almost like a hiss. Behind him, Huo Yan sighed, and the sound of Rekka loudly clapping a palm to his face reverberated through the halls.

"Oh dear."

"Rookies better buckle up!"

Captain Burns appeared to be ignoring them. Appeared.

Lieutenant Karim was actually ignoring them, turning to give the congregation of rookies his full attention. Tamaki was sure she saw a collective flinch.

"The only behavior you can ever have absolute control over is your own." He jabbed a finger at the immediate subject of his irritation, but let his eyes flicker quickly over the group. "You are responsible for you. However, how you behave around others not only reflects back onto you, but also reflects on your company, the Fire Force in general, and hence the Empire, with you as its representative. If this is how you act with your crewmembers, the people who fight back the flames with you, how can we expect you to act with civilians? You are now a first responder. You show up when someone is having their worst day imaginable, and you try your hardest to make it not their worst day imaginable. You will see people at their most vulnerable. Is this the behavior we should expect of you around the vulnerable?"

"No sir!"

Up by the altar, Captain Burns turned his head just enough to glance over the crowd, which produced quite a few more rushed, skittish "no sirs" from the congregation. If Karim noticed, he didn't show it.

"If this is your nature when someone is vulnerable, then we invite you to excuse yourself. We have no use for you. But here, in the ranks of Company 1, we expect you to act with the dignity of both a member of the Temple of Sol, and the Fire Force. If this is too much a burden for anyone here to handle, get out. To those here who don't find this task to be too difficult of a task to do, I believe your fellow crewmember could use a hand."

There was a moment of unfocused, fumbling shifting in the crowd, not sure who was going to rise to the occasion, before two of the newer Sisters pushed the rest of Tamaki's habit into her hands, helping her into it. Tamaki herself was still somewhat stunned. It was such a different reaction than what she had spent her life hearing from her teachers or councilors, she wasn't quite sure what to think. None of them had ever bothered to speak on her behalf so publically.

And while it didn't completely stop the whispers, it was nice to know that her superiors had her back, even when the curse up and went wild nearby. Because Huo Yan was patient and Karim would sternly brush it off and Rekka could still just stop it in its tracks. Like it was nothing at all. He would just step in and…

She had no idea that another person could be the cure to her curse, but so it was. He was loud and awkward but he went face-first into everything without flinching. She admired it. She more than admired it. Whether it was her curse, or Infernals, or whispering peers, or a plateau in her training, everything just got better when he was around.

Right up until everything got substantially worse because he was around.

She had never had a day go from such a high—she had been individually hand-picked to help Rekka with a personal project to inoculate children against infernalization; this was even better than being one of those selected to represent the First at the Rookie Games—to such a crippling low, because who knew that she was just feeding live humans, the most vulnerable of live humans, right into the fiery maw of a madman. And his creepy death-cult. The betrayal was a gut-punch, both literally and figuratively. By the time Kusakabe had shown up, she had never more wanted someone to kick the teeth in of someone she admired, which was an awful, slimy, terrifying feeling to have. He had to be stopped, and they would have to beat him unconscious to halt him. At least if they could catch him, she could eventually know why.

At least, that had been the case, until his own creepy death-cult allies shot his heart out.

Her emotions could not keep up. From adoration to disgust to horror. She wanted Rekka to get the thorough ass-kicking he deserved. Not dead. The betrayal of her admiration was still too raw for that. It felt like her whole soul was raw. It was all just too much.

"There was nothing more you could have done." Lieutenant Karim had met her outside the infirmary, once she was given a clean bill of health. Physically, of course; mentally, she was far from fine. He walked her back to her quarters, simultaneously her chaperone and her armed warden; she was well-warned about how the investigation could go. "We've… Huo Yan and I knew Rekka for a long time. Long before you got here. The asshole was probably an asshole before you knew he was an asshole." The look he gave her was unreadable. "You are responsible for you. You are not responsible for him." The rest of the trip was quiet; he was trying to help, she knew, but it was all much too fresh to ease her yet.

And then they had shunted her off to Company 8 within twenty-four hours. Tamaki wasn't so out of it that she didn't realize that they were probably doing to protect her from the investigation as much as possible, even though they called it a "suspension."

After all, a real suspension of duty would have had her removed from operating as a Fire Soldier, period.

She wasn't ready. At all. Investigation or not, the move was a lot to take in. She didn't have anything against the residents of the Eighth personally—Kusakabe was a unique case, as he seemed to trigger her curse more than usual, and would just grin through it and dear Sol, she almost wanted to just punch him, but he had also been the one to bury Rekka's stupid, lying face in the ground, so that was complicated—but she wasn't prepared for the shake-up. Captain Burns and Lieutenant Karim had both seen her off in person, which made it a bit easier; more like being dispatched on a solo mission than put where an internal investigation would have more difficulty getting to her directly. Tamaki appreciated the effort, she really did.

Moving from the lodgings of the First to the… "well used" accommodations of the Eighth was jarring, but she would manage. At the very least, the small-size of the crew and the comparatively large size of the space they inhabited gave her plenty of space to get away, when she needed it, which let her rein her curse in slightly.

Bonus, she could also grieve in private.

The downside to that same small crew was that her absence was quite easy to notice; she became aware that escape was harder once she realized that they tended towards community meals, especially breakfast and dinner. She was used to eating alone in Company 1's massive mess hall. It was a habit born of security, as her curse needed targets to latch onto. It never appeared when it was just her, and there appeared to be a limit in range that it was willing to drag her around.

The dining room and kitchen of Company 8 felt incredibly homey and… warm in comparison. Like she was staying in a family's house.

It also made escape impossible.

Even after Kusakabe made it clear that she was more than allowed to sit at the table with the rest of them—more than allowed, asked to sit with them, like he wasn't perturbed by her Lucky Lecher Lure at all—it still made her uncomfortable. She wasn't used to sharing close space with anyone but her parents and maybe a close friend or two. Company 8 just rubbed shoulders like they had all grown up together, the weirdos. It was a bit much to deal with.

It was nice to watch from afar, though.

It was nice, and she shouldn't ruin it.

Kusakabe's invitation still stood, she assumed. She left it well alone. She was the outsider here, anyhow.

Unfortunately, Kusakabe was not the only one weird about eating at the table.

When she wasn't in the office or finding some place in the station to hide, Tamaki liked to spend time near the kitchen. It always had an underlying smell of fresh coffee, but depending on the time of day, it could also smell like tea, the occasional pastries that Sister Iris made when she felt bored, and whatever was last made for dinner. It reminded her of home.

Of course, spending time near the kitchen also taught her that there was a clear pecking order in the kitchen. Which is also how she learned why nobody ever, ever seemed to think twice about that frilly pink apron that Lieutenant Hinawa wore. He was strict, to the point, had the sense of humor of a running chainsaw, a stare that could freeze solid the blood in a person's heart, and eyes that saw everything.

There was a distinct sort of irony in that he made Lieutenant Karim feel warm in comparison.

But this was Company 8. She should have known there'd be more to it than that.

Her habit of trying to avoid contact with almost everyone had not gone entirely unnoticed. Eyes that saw everything, you know.

She had gotten roped in to his dinner shift, most likely due to being already in the kitchen when he decided to start cooking, and had not gotten out of dodge fast enough to avoid his attention. Hence she was now peeling potatoes at the counter, which was an intimidating task when one was standing in the same room as the best cook in the Company. Who was also a perfectionist, and had a soft, hissing temper that even the captain didn't mess with.

She sighed every time she took a chunk out of a potato as she tried to peel it.

"Is there a problem?" His voice was low and cold and serious, and he was probably irritated by the aforementioned sighing.

"No, sir! I mean…" He was most likely quite sharp in detecting bullshit when it left someone's mouth, given that she had never seen anyone here ever try. She didn't even bother. "I'm sorry. I'm out of practice. I used to help my parents in the kitchen, but we have a huge mess hall at Company 1, so I haven't done any real cooking in a while."

"Hm."

She expected more than that, but at least he was somewhat forgiving of her lack of finesse, despite his dislike of outright ineptitude. He was quiet for a while, before he spoke again. There was less chill in it, this time.

"You can help set the table with Maki and Shinra, if you'd prefer."

She reflexively tightened her grip on the potato, which almost caused it to slip right out of her hand. She would rather take the gamble with her curse with only one other person in the room, if she could, instead of multiple. It tended to be less embarrassing all around.

"No, it's fine. I don't mind doing this." Tamaki realized too late that she might have just missed his polite way of excusing her from mutilating all his potatoes. "U-unless you'd rather me set the table, sir."

"I'm fine. Do what you want." The quiet, again, was only temporary. "Is there a reason you'd rather butcher potatoes than be in the dining room?"

Yes.

"Not in particular." Well, that lie had slipped out faster than she had thought about it. Hopefully it was fast enough to be believable.

"Does it have anything to do with why you are avoiding other people outside the office?"

Apparently it was not. Add it to the list of reasons why Lieutenant Hinawa was the most terrifying person in Company 8: more accurate than a lie detector. And he still hadn't even turned to look at her, yet. Probably; she was certainly staring a hole into this potato, and did not have the courage to look over her shoulder yet.

"I'm aware that you did not ask for a reassignment, and that the specific circumstances of your 'suspension' from Company 1 was uncomfortable, to be polite about it." He continued to move about the kitchen as he spoke. Considering the little that she had already seen, he could do this level of multitasking in his sleep. "Given that you appear fine in the office, I am curious as to why you are hellbent on avoiding other people when outside of it."

"Would you believe I'm an introvert, sir?" Anything to throw him off the trail.

Predictably, it did not work.

"So am I. So is Sister Iris." She could hear the change in voice quality that meant he had turned around, and she now had is full attention. She knew she had been staring at this potato for several minutes now. It yielded no answers, unfortunately. "Gut feelings are not my forte. I string enough observations together to form a possible conclusion. But this feels like… something else. The determination with which you avoid interaction seems above and beyond introversion." If she stared at this potato any harder, it was going to burst into flames. She went back to peeling it, it felt more comfortable than talking. "You're allowed to tell me if I'm missing the mark."

But what if she was too skittish to tell him that he was hitting the nail on the head?

"Not really. It's just…" She hadn't managed to repulse anybody here yet, and would like to keep it that way. Company 8 was super strange, but they seemed to be good people. "It's better if I don't."

"Has your 'Lucky Lecher Lure' attracted unwanted attention?"

She flinched. There it was. She could not get rid of this ball and chain, no matter what. It didn't matter that she was loyal and diligent and competent. Just that she could pop out of her clothes at any given time. Like she meant to be that… perpetually inconvenient.

"Isn't that what it does?" Because that was always the one trait about her people carried with them.

"Fire Soldier Kotatsu." And his tone took on the steel quality of a superior demanding his due attention, and her back straightened accordingly, even if it took a couple more moments to turn around. She almost regretted it; the heart-freezing stare was in full effect. "I must not be making myself very clear. We are Fire Soldiers, and that position holds us to a superior standard of professionalism, despite what my subordinates might lead you to believe with their lark. While I cannot trust them to maintain their own dignity, they do take the Eighth's reputation seriously. Even so, there are lines in the foolishness that cannot be crossed, for any reason. Given your disquiet, I am suspicious. With that in mind, let me rephrase, less delicately." She didn't think that stare could get any scarier, but it sharpened enough to be something wholly different. She swallowed reflexively; never mind her heart, her soul was about to bolt for safety. "Is there somebody here you are avoiding because they are taking advantage of your Lucky Lecher Lure?"

It took a full two minutes for her brain to catch up.

That was… not the direction she expected it to go. Confrontations usually ran the other way—"who are you inconveniencing?" or "who are you distracting"—and here she had been all geared up to protect herself from that again. She could count on one hand the amount of people that actually expressed concern for her wellbeing once they were confronted with her curse. Her parents aside, she figured the higher-ups at Company 1 would be the few to actually do so.

That said… Company 8 was weird, but she hadn't stumbled over anything remotely similar to derision yet. Because Maki was stuck at being stumped to how she could pop out of a fully zipped jumpsuit, and Sister Iris would simply tent her fingers, say a prayer, and retrieve her errant clothing like it wasn't anything particularly extraordinary, Arthur could not be assed to notice anything amiss at all, as if he was unable to even comprehend her states of surprise undress, and Kusakabe…actually took his lumps as her curse's favorite trigger with minimal complaining. One good snarl to match her hiss, and that was it. Like Captain Burns, it didn't register on Captain Ōbi's radar as a problem, just the occasion non-issue issue that popped up once in a while.

And Lieutenant Hinawa was determined to keep it as a non-issue issue, and currently looked like he was willing to go shoot someone into submission if that seemed to no longer be the case.

It looked like she would have to start using two hands, soon. It was a good feeling.

But before that, she should probably divert him off his undue warpath.

"No!" She shook her head vehemently. "Nothing like that. I just…" Gratitude aside, it still wasn't something she was used to talking about with others. "The best defense against it is to stay away from other people as much as possible. Most people don't understand, or want to understand. I don't know if I can deal with any more embarrassment right now, so this… feels like the best option. I think." She realized that she was clutching at the half-peeled potato, but that was in lieu of nervously grabbing at her pigtails. "I'm not trying to be rude, sir."

He regarded her for a few more moments, before whatever signs he watched to sift truth from crap were satisfied enough.

"If that's all it is, then that's fine." He turned his attention back to the rest of the kitchen like nothing of note had happened. "Do what you will, if it makes you more comfortable. You know where we'll be." His hands paused briefly as he was fiddling with a baking sheet. "Forgive my prying."

"That's okay." Please; like she'd ever be against due diligence. He had made more gestures towards looking out for her wellbeing in the last five minutes than many of her teachers had over years. "I appreciate it."

Even if he still scared the hell out of her.

She would appreciate it more later that night, shuffling soundlessly down the hallway back towards the kitchen. The First was pretty strict about food in dorms, but the Eighth just seemed to allow snacks everywhere. To that end, she was going to quietly abscond with some cookies back to her room.

That was the plan, at least, but there was light and two voices filtering out through the half-open kitchen door.

"I made a mistake."

Definitely Lieutenant Hinawa. Given the other deep rumble, it was him and Captain Ōbi. Tamaki didn't dare peek through the door, the lieutenant's eyes were too good. If she thought she wasn't interrupting something important, she may still try for those cookies anyways.

There was a sound of something heavy sliding across the wooden table. A coffee cup, perhaps?

"Well, I distinctly remember when everybody but Arthur headed towards bed, so how frightened should I be that one of our rookies is dead?"

"Don't jest, this one is serious." Even with the captain, Hinawa did not humor much nonsense. "I spoke to Tamaki, even after we agreed that you should do it."

She just managed to clap her hands over her mouth to keep from making any noise in surprise. They must have taken notice a while ago, if she was a topic of conversation. Yikes.

"Oh." Captain Ōbi sounded apprehensive, as much as she could tell through a door and eavesdropping in the hall. "How did it go?"

A soft sigh, and something that sounded like drumming a pen against the table.

"Her response was satisfactory, but I think you would have handled it more gently than I did." A pause, presumably for coffee. "I saw an opening, though, and took it."

"Do you regret it?"

"I regret my lack of patience around the issue."

"It's not the kind of thing we should be particularly patient about." There was a sound of creaking wood, and Tamaki could be reasonably sure the captain was leaning back in his chair far enough to bring the front legs off the floor. "I take it, since her response was 'satisfactory,' that you didn't immediately have to go on an inquisition through our ranks?" She almost jumped when the chair legs suddenly slammed back down. "Oh hell, is Arthur really dead?"

"You keep trying to make that joke, and it is not clever. Also, out of all the people on our roster, I believe that Arthur is the single most oblivious on the matter."

No fooling.

"I won't lie, this kind of situation was always the one thing I ever feared having to deal with while in command. I am fortunate to have never dealt with it when I was a firefighter, and I'm glad I won't have to deal with it as a fire soldier."

"Your recruits may be young and dense, but they have their hearts in the right place." She heard the lieutenant sip softly through his coffee. "And Tamaki is resilient, as so far proven."

It was nice to hear. Granted, she shouldn't be hearing any of it, and if Lieutenant Hinawa caught her eavesdropping in the hallway she was sure there would be all kinds of hell to pay. But after everything that had happened through the last few days, the praise felt good.

Captain Ōbi gave a thoughtful hum.

"So she's fine, then."

"I think that 'fine' is a very relative term. Give her time, and I think she'll come around."

"Hm. So we're possibly in this for the long haul, then."

"Internal investigations can take time, so we should prepare for that eventuality."

"Well, then…"

"No." And his tone sharpened severely.

"I haven't said anything yet!"

"I can see your face. That plan is terrible."

"I am worried about her! Quite honestly, I'm worried more about this than the other thing."

The urge to get closer to the door was awfully strong, but the fear of being seen through the gap was more compelling. They were worried about her? Why? What was wrong!? Had they heard anything about the investigation? Was she being arrested for kidnapping and accessory to murder!? Tamaki grabbed at her pigtails in anguish. Her parents would disown her if she went to prison.

"We are not child-proofing the house."

Beg pardon, but what?

"I'm terrified that when her curse kicks in, she is going to trip and hit her head on a table." Captain Ōbi sighed. "Let me get thicker rugs, at least."

"It is patronizing, and unnecessary." And Lieutenant Hinawa put his coffee cup down on the table harder than strictly necessary. "Tamaki comes from Company 1. Despite our differences, I cannot believe that they train their soldiers much more gently than I do."

"…you do know how high a bar you set, right?"

She hadn't been here long enough to get a full scope of how the lieutenant ran his drills, but she had the unfortunate experience of watching him shoot Arthur in the foot for getting lazy during his workout. She didn't want to know what this "high bar" even looked like. Company 8 was crazy.

Lieutenant Hinawa huffed.

"My initial assessment shows that Tamaki is quite nimble, and usually well-coordinated. Despite appearances, she is also remarkably durable. She may have the single highest heat resistance out of every pyrokinetic in our Company." He was back to idly tapping his pen against the table. "We will not be putting tennis balls on the tables or corners to protect her from herself. She's fine."

Two things. One, Tamaki was going to hold onto the praise for as long as possible. It wasn't the first time she had heard it, but after the string of mistakes that had landed her here right now, it was nice to know that people still thought good things about her. Two… she wasn't sure what to think about two. It was nice to be worried about—and it was a remarkably refreshing change to the norm that the worst that Captain Ōbi considered her curse inconvenient was that he thought she would crack her skull open on the furniture—but that seemed a teeny, tiny bit way over the top.

"Tables are hard, Hinawa. Have you ever hit your head on the corner of a table? That shit hurts."

"No, I have not, because I don't stand on things like chairs stacked on top of each other in order to change a light bulb." A soft, growling mumble. "And I'm surprised your thick, stubborn skull didn't shatter the table."

Tamaki had to swallow a giggle. How did this place function? Oh wait, terrifying lieutenant. Gotcha.

"Hey, that's dirty pool. Some of these ceilings are high!"

"Use a ladder."

"The chairs were closer!"

"See, this is what I mean." And the lieutenant sounded long-suffering. "If we end up child-proofing the station, we are doing it because of you, not because of her."

"You are so mean to me."

Tamaki backed away from the door as slowly and quietly as she was able. The cookies could wait until tomorrow. It had given her even more to think about, but this went down easier than everything else she'd been saddled with. It was nice to not have to fight for recognition. If the worst her curse could do to her reputation here was make them afraid she was going to break her neck, she could deal with that. That was much more palatable than the variety of things other people had called her.

It sure wasn't Company 1, and everyone here was a little kooky is some way, but they were good people.

The next night, she claimed a spot at the table for dinner.

AN:

*crawls out of her smokey, ashen grave in CA*

Peeps, I am slain. Writing this was so hard. Also, the italics have escaped their kennel and run amok, and I'm sorry.

Believe it or not, I did get a friend to read over this for me, but considering the sheer number of words and trying to wrangle my highly errant tense changes, I'm sure a bunch of things got missed. I got the typo traps out, so I'll see what I catch in the morning.

I have literally been sitting on pieces of this since May. I am bad at anything remotely resembling angst and seriousness, as the four prior chapters will tell anybody, so I had to reach way down and bottom-out my skills for this. It's... ehhhhhhhhhhhh? I've done better. But Tamaki deserves nice things, so I gave her some. Namely, a pair of superiors who don't take any crap.

Nobody suspects the Lieutenant Inquisition!

Also, yes I'm aware that Karim's weapon of choice resembles a tuba somewhat more than a trombone, but I just like the word "trombone," so here we are.

I already know what chapter six is going to be, but I have really gotta get these Cells At Work muses to leave me alone for five damned minutes, because my brain is full of T Cells right now, so once I push out that oneshot I can get back to it. Will it be Vulcan? Will it be Hinawa? ¿Por qué no los dos?

...

Trombone.