Mira hardly remembered their return journey to Radiant Garden; there'd been a single-minded determination to get back as soon as possible, but at some point, her legs refused to go a step further. She wasn't supposed to stop moving in the dark corridors, but Mira found herself beyond caring, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the ground, darkness be damned. Without missing a beat, Braig had scooped her up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way. He didn't breathe a word the entire time, either of complaint or of teasing. For that, she was grateful.

His warmth must have lulled her to sleep because, afterwards, Mira awoke lying atop her bed, still wearing the same clothes she'd travelled in. Dim light filtered in through the window – it was sometime after dusk. She had a vague recollection of someone mentioning something about a meeting, but her thoughts were sluggish, and she couldn't remember. Her body ached as if she'd performed strenuous physical activity, which made sitting up difficult.

Pulling herself to her feet, Mira shuffled into her bathroom to bathe; the warm water soothed her aches and pains somewhat but did little to clear her head. She wiped the foggy mirror and blinked at her reflection. Her skin was pale and wan, and dark circles shadowed her eyes. Her shoulder-length hair hung limp around her face, but she didn't have the energy to pull it back into her usual half-ponytail. A month of sleep probably wouldn't be enough to restore her energy. Mira leaned against the counter; why was she still so exhausted?

Once dressed, Mira made her way into the hall and knocked on Braig's door. There was no answer. She pressed her ear to the door. Only silence. Maybe he was asleep. Or he wasn't there. Voices drifted down the hallway and Mira followed them towards the common room. Every laborious step shook her resolve to look for the sharpshooter. If there was something important going on, he could find her, right? But she was already more than halfway there.

Mira stepped into the common room, squinting in the dim light. Dilan and Aeleus were seated at a small table, pouring over sheafs of paper and sipping tea. Perched atop the silent scientist's nose were delicate wire reading glasses. Dilan opted simply to glare at the documents in the dimness. So engrossed in their task, the pair didn't notice her at first. Mira turned her attention elsewhere; the common room had changed significantly since she and Braig left. Wedged in the corner stood a lavishly decorated Christmas tree that almost reached the ceiling. Garlands hung from the walls and mantle as well as eight stockings over the fireplace. Mira furrowed her brow, tugging at the band on her sleeve. One for Ansem the Wise, Braig, Dilan, Even, Aeleus, Ienzo, and Xehanort? And... her? Mira's head swam and she swayed, leaning heavily against the wall to steady herself. Someone had thought to include her...

"Mira, are you well?"

Her eyes snapped open – Mira hadn't realized she'd closed them. Grey met concerned blue, and it took her a moment to reconcile that the question had come from Aeleus. He hadn't spoken more than a handful of words to Mira since she'd come to live in the castle. She blinked slowly and let her hand drop from the wall. "I'm... fine," she whispered. "Thank you."

"The definition of fine must've changed since I first learned it," came Dilan's dry timbre. "You look ghastly."

Mira shook her head, a mistake if ever there was one, and her vision blurred. What was wrong with her? "I'm just a little tired. Sorry to have disturbed you," she mumbled. She missed the troubled look shared between the two men. Perhaps a moment sitting by the fire would do the trick. Mira sank into the plush couch cushions with a sigh. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine those peaceful evenings in her master's cottage, playing chess or simply reading and enjoying the quiet. It had been so long since those times.

A chair scraped against the floor followed by approaching footsteps. Mira's eyes cracked open. Aeleus stood in front of her, arms clasped behind his back. "Before I forget, Lord Ansem wished to speak with you and Braig."

Mira rubbed her eyes. "Should I go now?" They were probably in trouble for leaving without any notice, which might have bothered her more were she not so exhausted.

Aeleus furrowed his brow. "I believe he's currently occupied, but by the time Braig finishes his duties, he should be available."

So Braig was out and about, not asleep as she'd assumed. How did he manage to retain so much energy? It wasn't human. "Alright."

Aeleus reclaimed his seat by Dilan. "Speaking of Braig," Dilan began, "you two were gone for quite a while. Where'd you go?"

"Why don't you ask him?" she muttered.

"Funny you should say that, because he said the same exact thing when I did just that. Were you away for a little lovers' retreat?" Mira didn't need to look at him to know he was smirking; it was plain to hear.

The way she'd kissed him sprang to mind and her cheeks heated. "Don't be ridiculous."

"What were you doing then? Lord Ansem has never given any of us permission to go to other worlds, you know. It must've been something important."

Mira froze; that was supposed to be forbidden knowledge. It made sense why Braig knew, given his past. But why were the others aware? Ansem shouldn't have been sharing that with them... Her head throbbed at the implication, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "If you must know, I was training." Sort of. "He insisted I take someone, just to be safe. That's why Braig came along."

"So, theoretically, any of us could go with you and that would be acceptable?"

"He named Braig, specifically," she said stiffly, turning in her seat to stare hard at the lancer. "So, you'd have to discuss it with your master. But don't hold your breath-"

"Why not? If the requirement is only that you need a guard-"

"But it's not and you know it," she snapped. The pain behind her eyes was only worsening. "Even if your master gave you his permission, you wouldn't have mine. Trust is important in dangerous situations, and I barely know you."

"Ohoho? You trust Braig, do you?"

Mira turned back to the fire, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. "Just drop it, would you? I'm not in the mood."

"Oh, but I am-"

"Let the issue rest, Dilan," Aeleus cut in. At least one person knew how to read the room. Mira laid down, pulling one of the throw pillows close and closing her eyes. The change in position alleviated some of the pressure in her head, though it still lurked, aching softly as if warning her not to move.

"Very well," the lancer sighed, shuffling the papers and setting them aside in a neat stack. "Did Braig happen tell you about our little party?"

"The Christmas Eve one where you're all drinking?"

"That's the one. Can we count on your attendance?"

Her lips quirked. "Not in the slightest."

"Come now, don't be like that," Dilan huffed. "I know we've gotten off on the wrong foot, but that's no reason for you not to have fun and relax like the rest of us. There'll be games, karaoke, lots of alcohol-"

"Is that supposed to entice me?"

"...You're no fun at all, are you?" Dilan grumbled.

"I think our definitions of fun differ a little." Mira paused, frowning in thought. "How long until Christmas again?" Since time travelled differently between worlds, she had no way of knowing when that was.

"How do you forget that?" Dilan mumbled to himself. "Christmas Eve is in a week. You should at least think about coming. I'm sure Braig would be disappointed if you didn't."

"I'll consider it." But if she continued to feel this poorly, the answer was going to be a solid 'no.' Mira yawned, throwing an arm over her eyes. "Though I don't see why my presence makes a difference."

"It's a matter of principle; it's more fun if everyone gets into the spirit of the holiday."

She snorted. "More like getting into the spirits, if you ask me."

"Humbug," came a familiar drawl as the sharpshooter waltzed into the common room. Mira's eyes flashed open, though she made no move to sit up. Braig came to a stop and kneeled by the couch. "Sleep well, Princess?" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and shrugged. His gaze drifted over her face and his easy smile fell away. "You don't look so good."

"That's what I said," Dilan supplied. "She walked in looking like a zombie but insists she's fine."

Braig raised a brow. "Uh-huh. Do you feel up to meeting with Ansem? He-"

"Wants to talk to us. I know," she said tiredly. "Isn't he busy right now though?"

He shrugged. "It's probably just something to do with Xehanort, so I don't think it matters if we pop in a little early."

"You should be more respectful of-"

"Save the lecture for next time, Aeleus."

The larger man 'hmphed' and turned away. Mira sighed. "Let's get this over with."

The pair walked the familiar path toward Ansem's office, slower than usual given Mira's fatigue. Just like on the journey back, her body rebelled against her. White spots danced in her vision, and she had to stop and brace herself against the wall until it passed. She let out a shuddering sigh. Thankfully, there was no one around to see her weakness, besides Braig. He stopped as well, sliding a cool hand over her forehead. She shut her eyes, leaning into his touch.

"Shit, you're burning up." Pulling her into his chest, he bent space and teleported them. He should have done that in the first place; it would have saved her some effort. When she opened her eyes, they were standing in the castle's infirmary. She sat on the closest bed, resisting the urge to bury her head under the pillow. Mira rubbed her eyes again. Why was everything so bright?

Braig tilted her chin up, looking deeply into her eyes. "Did you hit your head while I was gone?"

"Don't think so. Why?"

"Just gotta check that you don't have a concussion. Your pupils are really dilated. But if you're not hurt, I suspect it's magical exhaustion." Braig moved to a supply cabinet and rifled through it, returning with a jar of familiar round blue gummies. Mira grimaced. Twisting the lid off, Braig grabbed three. "Open up." She pressed her lips together firmly. "C'mon, Princess. You need them."

"I don't like ethers." Her master always made her take them after training when she was younger to ensure she wasn't over-taxing her magic. But they were disgusting.

"Hi-ethers," he corrected. "And I don't care if you don't like them – you're going to eat all three right now, then one every morning and night for the next week so you can start feeling better."

"I could just rest instea-mmph!" Braig shoved the hi-ethers into her mouth all at once. The sour cranberry flavor exploded over her sensitive sweet-receptors and Mira shuddered, ready to spit them out, but he clapped a hand over her mouth.

"None of that, Princess." His grin was positively gleeful. "Now, I'm not gonna lecture you about overusing your magic again, because you did it to save our lives and I'm grateful. That said," his amusement slipped away, leaving behind a serious expression, "this is the second time you've saved me and I feel responsible for making sure you make a complete recovery. Got it?"

Mira glared at him, chewing the offensive gummies and swallowing quickly. Already, her headache was receding somewhat, and the lights weren't as intense or blinding. Satisfied, he removed his hand from her mouth. "I hate you a little."

"Aww, how cute." He brushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Maybe there's some way I can improve your opinion of me," he murmured.

Her heartbeat quickened. "I'd like to see you try."

"That sounds like a challenge." Braig tilted her chin up and slanted his mouth over hers. Even the barest pressure of his lips sent her heart into a frenzy. Mira's eyes fluttered shut but then he was already pulling away. "But we've still got to meet with Ansem, remember?"

The nerve of this man. "Fine."

They left the infirmary and made their way to Ansem's office at the center of the castle. The walk was much faster as the hi-ethers did their work restoring Mira's energy, and in no time at all, they reached their destination. Braig knocked and waited for the muffled "enter," before opening the door, holding it for Mira to go in first.

Inside, the office was the same as always: immaculate and clinical. Ansem the Wise was seated at his desk and Xehanort sat in one of two chairs on the other side, arms crossed. Everything was normal. Everything except the gaping hole in the wall that hadn't been present the last time Mira was in there. There was no door or anything – it was as if a section of the wall had been completely carved out, revealing an industrial passageway. It was a little eerie compared to the warmer color-scheme of the office. More importantly, she couldn't recall any passageways on the castle schematics from when she, Lea, and Isa had tried sneaking in. Where did it lead...? And how many other secret places existed in the castle?

"Ah, Mira, Braig. Perfect timing. I take it you've rested from your travels?"

"Yeah, sleeping beauty here is still a little tired, but nothing a good night's rest won't fix." Mira mentally thanked him for not mentioning the magical exhaustion; it wouldn't do for the king to rethink his decision to let her come and go freely.

Ansem inclined his head. "Indeed. Since you're here, there is a matter of some importance I'd like to discuss with you, Mira. Please, take a seat." He gestured to the other chair adjacent to Xehanort. She didn't have to look to feel his brown-eyed gaze boring into her.

"I'll be right outside," Braig murmured before turning on his heel. The door shut behind him with a soft click.

Mira slid into the proffered seat. "What did you want to discuss?" she asked, unable to keep her eyes sliding to the mysterious passage.

Following her gaze, Ansem chuckled. "Ah, you were away for much of the construction on the second laboratory. The door has yet to be installed, but it is otherwise finished."

Mira was tempted to ask why they needed a second lab but refrained at the last second, nodding silently instead. It wasn't her place to demand justification for what appeared to be a simple case of excess.

"Indeed. Now, as to the matter at hand. I'm afraid the experiments to recover Xehanort's memories have yielded few results, but we've determined that your participation may be beneficial."

She recalled the conversation she'd overheard before going to El Dorado. There'd been a shadow of recognition when she referred to Xehanort as her master, even if she was only mocking him. But she wasn't supposed to know that. "What makes you think I can make a difference?"

"As a keyblade wielder, you may possess the ability to reach his heart and the memories locked within. We humbly ask that you lend us your assistance in this matter."

Xehanort stared at her intently, not an ounce of humility in his gaze. In its place was a familiar look of expectation. Terra wore that look frequently when he wanted to try out new attacks or when he was training for his mark of mastery. It brooked no argument. Mira frowned, meeting his stare head-on. She ought to do this for Terra – if she could separate him and her master, then everyone would be better off. Except her, if Terra was still angry with her. But still...

"What you're asking sounds dangerous. What if I cause irreparable damage to your heart?"

"That is a risk I am willing to take."

That was all well and good, but was it a risk she wanted to take? The keyblade wasn't a magic wand that could solve every problem – especially not hers, give its proclivity for playing hooky. She had no experience doing something like this, especially not without her master's guidance... Mira frowned, searching Xehanort's face for a hint of recognition. There was none. Her master was buried deep within. If she didn't try, there was a possibility he'd never return. The keyblade might be her only way of reaching him...

"If I'm to do this," she broke eye-contact with Xehanort and looked to Ansem, "then I need to return home to do some research first. I don't want to make any mistakes."

"Of course, Mira. I appreciate your caution." Ansem gave an encouraging smile. "Take the time you need. If everyone is agreeable, we can reconvene after the holiday."

If she only had until after the holidays, she needed to leave at once. Her blunt fingernails dug into her palms. There was a lot of research to do and not a lot of time to do it; in her current state, even with the aid of hi-ethers, travelling could prove dangerous. But there was too much at stake to dawdle. She would have to leave in the morning.

Mira and Braig walked in companionable silence as they returned to the apprentices' wing, hands brushing every so often, the touch distracting her from the anxious thoughts that ceaselessly assaulted her mind. The others had retired to their rooms or had gone elsewhere, leaving the common room empty. The twinkling Christmas lights cast a warm glow over Braig's face, softening the sharp angles. Though twisted into a thoughtful frown, his lips looked soft and inviting... Mira stopped abruptly, pinching the bridge of her nose. Just because they'd kissed a couple times didn't mean she had permission to do it whenever she wanted. Especially since they hadn't even talked about it.

Braig paused, turning to look back at her. "Something wrong?"

"No I'm-I'm fine," Mira grumbled. She needed to pull herself together. She couldn't allow these feelings to rule her every waking thought.

"I'd believe you, but it looks like something's on your mind." He took her hands in his. "Is it about the experiment?"

"I am concerned about that screwing up, yes, but-" she paused abruptly. "Wait, were you eavesdropping?"

He grinned. "Guilty as charged. You're a bad influence on me."

Mira rolled her eyes. "Somehow, I doubt that."

He shrugged. "Believe what you will. But if it's not the experiment that's bugging you, what's wrong?"

"I was wondering..." She bit her lip; his gaze darted down, then back to her eyes. Mira gulped, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. "You know how we've kissed?"

"Go on," he said with a smirk.

"Well," she mumbled, "is that going to become a regular thing?"

"Only if you want it to."

Grey eyes flickered to gold. Mira was taken aback by the sincerity in his gaze. "In that case..." Her master would advise her to end this distraction at once. Her friends would tell her he was an enemy, that he couldn't be trusted. And yet, her traitorous heart... She tugged at the band on her sleeve. Mira looked up at him, marveling at his soft expression. Regardless of their opinions, this decision belonged to her and no one else. She smiled at the sharpshooter. "I'd like that. As long as you're kissing only me."

"Rest assured," he snaked his hands around her waist, pulling their bodies flush, "you've captured my attention completely."

Braig crushed his lips to hers and Mira inhaled sharply, kissing back with equal fervor. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging softly at the strands. He hummed, trailing down her cheek to press open-mouthed kisses along her neck. Her skin tingled everywhere his lips brushed, and Mira let out a breathy sigh. If she wasn't careful, she'd get lost in the sensation of him and never resurface. But in that moment, as she pulled his face back to hers and claimed his lips, she didn't care. The barrage of worry and anxiety that had been her constant companion for as long as she could remember had quieted.

His hands slid to her rear, hoisting her up as he moved to the couch a few paces away, not breaking the kiss even when he sat them down. The fire had burned low and only embers remained. Mira nibbled his bottom lip, eliciting a low moan. Her stomach flipped and she did it again, pulling the plump flesh between her teeth. Braig's grip tightened as he made that intoxicating sound again. He leaned back against the cushions, letting out a shuddering breath when Mira brushed her lips over his neck.

"We should quit while we're ahead," he gasped, "unless you want to do a lot more than kissing tonight, Mira."

Heat shot straight to her belly at the thought of them tangled together. But Mira took a deep breath and pulled back. "R-right." He had a point; they were getting carried away and she needed to be up early the next morning.

Braig ran a hand through his hair, pushing some of the strands she'd mussed back where they belonged. His pupil was blown wide, swallowing nearly all the gold. Even his uniform was rumpled. Mira suspected she fared no better. When she was certain her legs would support her, she extricated herself from his lap. "It's getting late... We should probably get some rest," she mumbled. She needed all the strength she could muster if she was going home the next day. She moved toward their hallway, but his hand shot out, grasping hers. Rising to his feet, Braig moved in close.

"By the way," he murmured, kissing her softly and pressing a small bottle into her hands, "make sure to take these in the morning. Sleep well, Princess."

With flaming cheeks, Mira jutted her chin down in the semblance of a nod and fled to her room, clutching the infernal hi-ethers.

His heart swelled with affection at the way she scurried out of the common room. Mira's eagerness had awakened desires that'd remained dormant for so long, to the point that tearing himself away had been difficult.

Waiting for the faint click of her door, he followed her path toward his own quarters. He pressed gloved fingers to his mouth; she'd tasted of sour cranberries. His lips quirked. He'd probably have to monitor her taking them, given how she seemed to despise the blue gummies. Though, he couldn't say he wasn't looking forward to her sour face.