Trails of Blood and Steel

by ultimatedbzmaniac

The Blood and Iron Chancellor, Giliath Osborne. The Debaucherous Prince, Olivert Reise Arnor. The board is set; the players are ready. Caught between these titans, Class VII are forced to serve as pieces in their game. However, three of these pieces: Rean Schwarzer, Fie Claussell, and Crow Armbrust; are not content simply being used. No, they would make this game their own.

25. Amelioration

RedBurningDragon: Rean is a bit vanilla in the first game, there's no denying that. However, he isn't a blank slate or boring. I understand why people found him a bit bland, though. I liked him just fine, but it wasn't until CS2 that he became my favorite character. His character arc in just the first two games was something I found absolutely fascinating. By the end of CS3, I was certain that no one could usurp him as my favorite trails character of all time. As of now, I'm still pretty damn sure of that. XD

Gamer611: You're quite welcome.

I suppose you have a point. I guess I just found it a bit too bland after 'Catharsis', since I knew the entire time I was writing the chapter that would be its title.

Yeah, half that chapter was pretty much set-up, but I'm glad you and most everyone else seemed to enjoy it.

On the subject of Heinrich - What you saw last chapter was pretty much him in a nutshell. He does evolve over the course of the first game, just a bit. He's got problems, but honestly, he's not so bad in the end. As for in this version of events... Well, we'll see.

On the subject of Verrat - Verrat is deplorable, as everyone knows. However, I won't say any more than that; I'll let the story speak for itself.

On the subject of Crow - He's a bit of a complicated guy, honestly. At the same time, he can be a very straightforward character. He's a really good guy, until he's not. The dichotomy that is Crow Armbrust is genuinely one of my favorite things to write for this story. I eagerly look forward to how my readers react to him in the future.

I appreciate you laying out the context needed for Re:Zero, but trust me, it's unnecessary. Even if I end up not liking the show, I will at least watch the whole first season—when I get around to watching it.

Don't worry about it, I always look forward to your thoughts on my chapters. :)

You're more than welcome, and I will do my best.

KnoxZone: Step by step, inch by inch; it's the start of a slow, arduous process, but at least it has begun. Thank you. I intend to.

RosyMiranto18: Okay then.

Thank you; hopefully I won't be moving again for a long time. That shit is not fun.

-Boss room, as in the room where the boss fiend appears. The empty one with four pillars that shows up on every floor of the old schoolhouse. Smut? Eh...not really. I mean, perhaps a glimpse of such things, but no detailed descriptions of sexual acts. I struggle with writing such things, as—to me at least—they come out sounding stilted and awkward. More power to those who write it, but it's not really my thing. Rean and Fie's relationship and how it progresses will be touched upon quite a bit, but the explicit details will be glossed over for the most part.

Besides, it's against site rules. I know plenty of people get away with it, but I'm not gonna run the risk of me being one of the few who get their story taken down over it. That being said... Perhaps, in the future, if my readers really want it, I could try my hand at something resembling a sex scene—However, it would be an AO3 exclusive scene, as I'm not going against this site's guidelines. I will confess to being hesitant for another reason as well: in my experience, smut tends to attract people who only want more smut. That is not and never will be what this story is about.

-Class VII got a lecture about running around in the rain without umbrellas; only Fie and Rean were told they were explicitly in trouble. Fie, because she'd been seen running in the halls, which is a no-no; Rean, because he'd 'lied' to his instructor. But yes, Heinrich very much has noble bias. You see it in the games time and time again. As for Zephyr dating, who knows? I'll probably touch upon it further in the story.

On the subject of birthdays: I posted them in an end note in one of the rewritten chapters some time ago. As for everyone else's birthdays...

Rean's birthday is canonically in May, but we weren't given a specific date. I decided to make it the 7th.
Crow-December 21st
Sara-March 17th
Gaius-June 20th
Jusis-February 5th
Machias-February 8th
Laura-November 16th
Emma-October 27th
Elliot-June 21st
Alisa-August 26th

Your idea for renaming the months in the Trails universe is very interesting. I can see you put some thought into it. I especially like what you did with June and July. Thank you very much for sharing that with me. Personally, though, I have no problem with the fact that they kept the months the same.

RutgercSchwarz: Understood. Yep, gonna have to figure it out on the fly. Not yet, she doesn't. You're right, they really aren't gonna be happy; I can't wait to write that. Ramona is indeed the name I came up with for the female jaeger we saw in the CS1 Zephyr flashback; I thought it rather odd that she had a silhouette but was never addressed in any manner, I intend to correct that. It was about time I got around to doing stuff with Emma and Alisa, this was just the perfect opportunity. The Verrat stuff, well, I'll keep that to myself. You'll find out soon enough, though.

You're quite welcome.

Shinn of Destiny: Thank you very much. I appreciate the well-wishes. I'll do my best on both accounts.

Ouchanrrul: Wow, that's some high praise, thank you. :) I know, I know, I really want to get to Nord as well. I have some good stuff planned that I can't wait to write. I'm glad you're so into it; I hope to hear from you again.

ONE LAST THING! I've found better colors to describe Rean and Fie's eyes, because I've been having trouble with them for the longest damn time. Hell, before I played cold steel 3, I was still half convinced Rean's eyes were a strange type of grey. They were kind of purple when I got better look at them, but still had tinges of gray, and I was scrambling to find the right color to describe them. I ended up settling on a dark fuchsia, as anyone reads this story surely knows by now. Just recently, though, I was looking at different unique colors, because the eye thing is still bothering me.

Turns out Rean's eyes are best describe as Lilac; simple, I know. I honestly feel like an idiot, but, whatever. At least now I have the proper color. I've seen them described that way in a few fics, too, but it just never clicked in my mind; I always went, nah, can't be right. As for Fie, well, I've always known her eyes were somewhere between green and yellow, but once again, I could not find the right descriptor. First I went with yellow-green, and for the longest time I've been doing lime green, now I've found exactly what it is—chartreuse. Technically that's still yellow-green, but it sounds/reads a lot better than yellow-green, in my opinion. From now on, their eyes will be properly described with the precisely right colors.

Normally, I'd simply correct my mistake and move on. However, you guys were going to notice the sudden change, there was no way around that. I figured it'd be best if I preemptively got it out of the way, so, yeah. I, of course, will also be going back through the older chapters at some point to correct the eye color thing. When I get around to it, I'll probably clean them up a bit as well since I'm already messing around with them, but, I digress.

Once more, allow me to thank all those who reviewed, and allow me to thank all those who have added this story to their favorites and alerts since the last update as well—thank you!

Please read, review, and enjoy.

---

ACT I - CHAPTER III - PART IX

...

Shortly after classes had ended for the day, Rean was called to the principal's office to discuss his absence the day prior.

...

"I apologize, Sir. I have no excuse for my behavior." Rean stood from his bow, meeting the eyes of the principal.

Principal Vandyck sat behind his desk, hands clasped in front of his face; he did not respond, at first. Instead, he silently observed the student before him.

.

.

.

The principal's intense gaze remained fixed on Rean for a lengthy stretch of time, before, finally, he spoke, "Mr. Schwarzer, you claim that you deceived your Instructor and feigned illness. However, I have it on good authority that such a statement is false."

Rean's brow furrowed.

"Instructor Sara claimed full responsibility for marking you absent due to illness."

Rean's eyes widened ever so slightly.

"Needless to say, you won't be punished. The only reason disciplinary action was on the table to begin with was your claim of deception. Students aren't simply punished for failing to show up to class. You are not children who need your hands held, you're all young men and women of the Empire, thus we treat you as such. If a student doesn't show up to class, that is their decision—it will be reflected in their class credits and overall grades."

"And Instructor Sara?"

"Normally, an instructor lying on the behalf of a student is an infraction that cannot be ignored. Even if done with the best of intentions, they would still be penalized."

Rean stepped forward, "Then please, treat this as if I was the one who-"

"Rest assured, she is in no danger of losing her position."

"Even still-"

The principal held up his hand, signaling for Rean to stop, "There is no cause for concern, young man. Instructor Sara marked you absent due to sickness with my permission."

Rean could not hide the confusion on his face, "What?"

"She has informed me that you've been struggling with a number of issues lately. That is partially my fault, for asking so much of your class, and you, in particular. Atop your coursework, you have: field studies, assisting the student council, investigating the Old Schoolhouse; and, from what I understand, personal matters as well. That much all at once would overwhelm most anyone. Even so, you have been excelling despite your circumstances. The townsfolk have been quite pleased with your assistance, your instructor speaks well of you, and even the Student Council President herself has nothing but praise for you."

Rean couldn't help but squirm in place.

"Taking all that into consideration, I saw no issue with allowing your first absence to be excused. I neglected to inform Vice-Principal Heinrich of this, and that was an oversight on my part—one that I have already corrected."

Rean's mouth curved down ever so slightly into the smallest of frowns, "I see... Thank you very much, Sir. Your consideration is appreciated."

"No need. You earned that consideration with your diligence. That being said... Perhaps you should consider attending to yourself once in a while."

"I'm sorry?"

"You have your instructor concerned, young man; I confess I know not what about. However, regardless of the particulars of your situation, remember this: if you never pay mind to your own needs, burnout is inevitable."

This was the second time someone had told him to take better care of himself.

"Understood, Sir. I'll work on it."

A week ago, they would have been little more than empty words, used to assuage the concerns of an authority figure. He knew the principal meant well, but he, like most everyone else, didn't know all Rean had to make up for, how rigorously he truly needed to work to make something of himself... How heavily the debt he owed his family weighed on him...

But this time, he meant what he'd said. He would try. He'd made a promise, after all.

---

Machias had intended to speak with Rean, appeal to him so that he might divulge what had occurred the previous day. Machias knew very well his friend wouldn't want to talk about it, but he would press the issue if it became necessary; he would not allow his friend to suffer in silence. However, before he could approach him, Rean was called to the Principal's Office.

Accepting the fact that he'd have to postpone their conversation, Machias sorted his excess notes as the rest of the class departed.

.

.

.

Finished, Machias stood from his seat, intending to head for the door. Only to quickly realize that he wasn't the last person here after all.

"Oh, Laura, I didn't expect you to still be here."

Laura was stationary at her desk, and didn't appear to be paying him the slightest bit of mind.

'That's a bit unusual.'

He'd never known her to lose herself in thought like that. Did something happen, he wondered? The only time he'd seen her truly pensive before was concerning her schism with Fie.

'If Laura needs help with something, Fie would be the best choice to assist, right? Or Rean, he's good at this sort of thing.'

Yet Fie was nowhere in sight, and Rean was busy. Thus, it fell to him.

"Laura? You seem rather preoccupied. What's on your mind?"

Laura finally seemed to focus at the sound of his voice, raising her head to meet Machias' gaze as he stopped at her desk.

"Machias, forgive the abruptness of my inquiry—hypothetically, if you had sustained injuries, would you conceal them?"

Machias quirked a brow at the odd question. What was she implying?

"No."

"Suppose you were concealing them, what would be your reasoning?"

Machias' brow furrowed at that, "It would be because I didn't want anyone to know, obviously. What other purpose could there be?"

The frown on her face became rather prominent in that moment, "That is the conclusion I arrived at as well. I was hoping you would give me an alternate interpretation."

She simply could not make sense of it. Why would Rean hide his injuries? What exactly happened yesterday? And why was Fie going along with it?

"Laura, what is this about?"

"Did you notice anything amiss about Rean during combat practice?"

"What do you mean 'amiss'? He was-"

Machias' words died in his throat as he came to a realization. He hadn't seen any difference in Rean's movements, nor had he spotted any discrepancy in his friend's swordsmanship; he lacked the knowledge and skill to notice such things. However, it did not take a genius to put two and two together—Laura was speaking of Rean.

Rean had injuries that he was hiding from everyone else. Why would someone as sensible and level-headed as him do something like that? If they were caused by the fiends in the Old Schoolhouse, he'd have no reason to; the entire class had asked him multiple times if he'd been hurt. He had plenty of opportunities to admit it. He wasn't the type of person to put his pride first. In fact, as far as Machias could tell, he had the opposite problem. So how the hell did...he... "That son of a bitch!"

Laura wasn't sure what to make of this outburst, "Machias?"

Throwing his stuff onto the nearest desk, Machias didn't bother to respond and just marched right out of the classroom.

"Machias!"

...

Laura quickly caught up with the fuming Class VP, following him down the stairs to the first floor and out of the building; keeping pace with his determined stride.

"Machias, have you grasped something I could not?"

"Yeah, I have a pretty damn good theory as to how he got his injuries."

"How so?"

The fact that he failed to respond had her feeling she wasn't going to like the answer; the look of barely repressed rage on his face only cemented it. She should have stopped him, forced him to talk to her, to help her understand what was going on. But, she didn't. For the simple reason that she desired to know: what was going on? And why were Rean and Fie trying to hide it from her?

.

.

.

Unfortunately, when they arrived at their destination, they discovered Verrat was not amongst the nobles in the salon. However, an angry Machias, with Laura in tow, found the nobles to be quite accommodating in regards to the question of the Cayenne heir's whereabouts.

---

Procuring a private conversation with Verrat was a simple matter for Jusis; common blood aside, there was no denying the fact that he was the son of the second most prestigious duke of the Four Great Houses. His grades, looks, and combat prowess were all exceptional, befitting his social status; he was envied or admired by a majority of the noble students. Turning down his request for a short audience, while not out of the question, was likely to do more harm to Verrat's reputation in the long run than he was willing to allow. Which was exactly why Jusis had specifically engaged him before the eyes of so many other nobles. As such, the Cayenne progeny was left with little choice but to acquiesce.

...

Jusis led the slightly higher ranked noble to the field, away from most prying eyes; they stopped just in front of the stable.

Verrat made no effort to hide his annoyance, "All right Albarea, why have you dragged me out here?"

"You have my sympathies. I'm certain the inane chatter you were partaking in was quite important."

Rather than take offense to the dry wit, the Cayenne heir snorted in amusement, "Fair point."

His posture, once rigid, was allowed some slack; the visible tension in his body lessened.

"The pointless chitchat our fellow nobles engage in every day is so painfully droll. Nothing but the same nonsense over and over... But, it is what's expected of men of our station, so there is little to be done for it." Verrat said with a sigh.

"In matters of governing and social functions, most assuredly. However, there is no need of it here, this is a place of learning and betterment. If you do not desire fools flitting about for your favor, then simply do not engage them."

"You speak nonsense. It is our duty to uphold the image of the distinguished; as scions of the Four Great Houses, we must maintain our reputation of excellence and refinement at all times. To allow our fellow nobles to even entertain the thought that our families falter in any aspect is shameful. You can never show them weakness. As ridiculous as it is, socializing is an integral part of that. To disregard polite conversation, you allow a seed of doubt to take root in their minds. They might think you asocial, a trait unbefitting of true nobility. We must project our exceptional aptitude in all aspects, including mingling."

Jusis regarded him with a withering look at that, "I see. Your active persecution of one low-ranked noble qualifies as upholding the excellence and refinement of the Four Great Houses, does it?"

Verrat's posture went rigid once more, "He is not nobility!"

Suddenly understanding why he'd been brought here, he took a step back, his eyes narrowed, and a deep scowl formed on his face.

"He's just some street rat who got lucky! That damned eccentric baron and his bitch wife and that stupid, clumsy oaf of a daughter of theirs... Their entire family is a disgrace! If only they'd simply done what any normal noble would have and passed him to an orphanage, then everything would have been fine! If it wasn't for them, I'd-" The rest of his sentence was lost in his growl of aggravation.

Jusis' judgmental gaze did not abate; Verrat's ire grew.

"Don't you try to condescend to me, Albarea! Just because you've taken some sort of liking to the pissant doesn't mean he's suddenly worth a damn! He does not deserve his place among our ranks; he is simply an urchin who's too fortunate for his own good! If he'd stayed in the gutter where he belonged, if he knew his place, then there wouldn't be an issue! But no! He acts above his station! His fucking irreverence for our way of life nearly cost me everything! You weren't there, you don't know! He humiliated me in front of countless influential nobles, and worst of all, my father! It was bad enough that he fouled the nobility with his presence, but that!? I will never forgive such a transgression!"

Jusis recalled the account of what happened between Rean and Verrat that Fie had shared; it went without saying he hadn't the slightest shred of sympathy for the Cayenne heir's bruised ego.

"Perhaps you sympathize with him because of your commoner blood, but you must recognize that you still carry noble blood in your veins as well! Half-blood you may be, but that blood is still noble! No one knows anything about that waif's lineage, yet the gates of nobility were still thrown wide open to the wretch! He is a parasite that taints the very concept of nobility! He deserves none of what he's been given! He is not and shall never be worthy of even the lowest of noble titles! Do you understand!? All I've done is to correct him, put him in his place! He sticks out, tarnishing the reputation of the nobility with almost every action he takes, thus it falls upon his betters to hammer him back down—that is precisely what I am doing!"

The anger he openly projected bordered on irrational levels. Nostrils flaring as he ranted and raved, nearly spitting with every caustic word he loosed from his lips, he was too enraptured with his own tirade to take notice of his surroundings. Only when he saw Jusis' eyes shift for the briefest of moments did he comprehend: the two of them weren't the only ones present.

Turning around, Verrat realized there had been a small audience of two aside from Albarea who'd bore witness to his fulminations, both of whom he recognized. The first was undoubtedly the heir to the Arseid Viscounty; her sturdy frame and deep blue hair giving her away. She was openly staring daggers at him, visage marred by an uncomely scowl; her displeasure was abundant and apparent.

'What could I have possibly done to earn her ire!?'

He was already dealing with Albarea and his foolishness, he did not need this right now!

The second, standing just behind the Arseid heir, was the noble-hater, Regnitz. Verrat's attention wasn't allowed to linger on him, however, as Laura's voice brought his focus back to her.

"How dare you...!"

Before Verrat could respond, he was verbally assailed.

"You pretentious, despicable son of a bitch!"

The insult was hurled by Machias; teeth grit, fists clenched so tight that his nails had punctured the flesh of his palms, drawing blood—he was shaking with rage. It took every ounce of willpower he had in him to repress the urge, the almost instinctual need to physically lash out. Instead of violence, he vocalized his overwhelming anger, "You are the embodiment of everything wrong with the farce we call nobility! You vile, pathetic-!"

"Oh, come off it!" Verrat cut him off. "The entire student body knows how much you detest the nobility! You'd despise me regardless! You're just envious of our prestige! You desperately crave to be one of us, to be a noble, to be counted among the ranks of those who truly make this nation great! But you know that is an impossibility for someone like you, so you instead seek to tear us down out of spite!"

"That's what you think!? How fucking delusional can you possibly be!? You've got your head so far up your own ass that-"

"Shut up! I don't want to hear your drivel, peasant!"

Machias bit down on the inside of his cheek, wincing at the pain; he had to restrain himself. He was on the verge of seeing red; if he flew off the handle, it wouldn't end with a simple punch.

Jusis remained a spectator to their back and forth, completely uninterested in involving himself with the nonsense; the conversation had been effectively derailed. He had to stifle the urge to sigh, 'This was not how I intended this conversation to go.'

Laura, however, instead interposed, "I simply cannot fathom how you could come to believe such disgusting sentiments. However, your warped viewpoint is irrelevant at the moment. We have come to you for a reason—answer us this, are you responsible for Rean's injuries?"

She cut right to the heart of the matter.

Verrat immediately rounded on the one who'd brought him here, "Is that what this horseshit is about!?"

Despite himself, a brief flash of consternation pervaded Jusis' facial expression at this information. Schooling his features before anyone could take note of his discomposure, he replied, "I must confess to being unaware of such a fact. I requested to speak with you regarding the matter of the recent bavardage circulating campus. In addition to inquiring as to what transpired between you and Rean the day prior, of course."

Verrat scoffed at this, "That's it, I'm done with this pointless conversation. Share in your pity for Schwarzer all you like, I don't care; I'm leaving."

Turning back around, he began walking away from the stable, heading toward the stairs—rather, he attempted to. He didn't make it more than a few steps before Laura stepped in front of him, cutting off his stride prematurely.

"I insist that you answer the question."

Verrat instinctually took a step back at this; Laura was well known among the student body as the strongest first-year, bar none. She'd gained a reputation for being one of the most powerful students on campus, in fact. For her to step to him, even if without her blade, was understandably intimidating. The fact that she was blatantly upset didn't help.

Unnerved though he may be, Verrat still had his pride—he would not simply back down. With a sneer, he responded, "I have no knowledge pertaining to any injuries Schwarzer may bear; I've not so much as seen a hair out of place on his head this day. Perhaps he bit off more than he could chew on one of those Old Schoolhouse excursions he seems to fancy. Another possibility is that he finally disrespected the wrong noble and they decided to teach him a lesson; if that were the case, I'd say he got exactly what he deserved. Or maybe he simply fell down a flight of steps, who's to say? If you are truly so curious, you should ask him instead of me."

Laura's shoulders visibly stiffened, "How repugnant..."

Jusis was glaring at the him with undisguised contempt, "Utterly wretched."

Machias... Machias couldn't hold himself back any longer, "That's it!"

As Machias marched toward him, Verrat actually moved to meet him halfway, "You think you scare me, noble-hater!? If you want to fight me so badly, then bring it on!"

The situation had devolved to the point where violence was inevitable. Jusis moved to intercede, while Laura did not; her fists were clenched so tight her knuckles were discolored.

...

"Verrat."

Before anyone could actually come to blows, however, the sound of a voice caught their attention—everyone stopped. Looking toward the source, they saw Fie; seemingly appearing out of nowhere, she stood between the lot of them and the staircase, slowly walking forward.

'Where did she even come from!?'

'How long has she been here?'

'I couldn't even tell she was behind us...'

"Oh great, another of you cretins! Whatever crap you're about to spew, save it! I could not care less!"

Seemingly ignoring the Cayenne heir's words, Fie came to a stop just a few short arge from the rest of them; the entire time, her eyes remained trained solely on Verrat.

.

.

.

No one said a thing... It was pure silence as Fie stared Verrat down; her eyes were cold, and as they bore into him, he had to resist the urge to flinch. "If you've something to say, then say it, you damned barbarian!"

"If you ever lay your hands on Rean again, I'll break every bone in your body."

"I-! W-Wha-What?"

That was not the response he'd expected; the sheer deadpan delivery of such an extreme threat unsettled him. Forced to reevaluate the situation in that moment, he took notice of the complete lack of emotion on her face. How disquieting...

"You dare to threaten me!?" He puffed up, trying to force down his unease.

"Not a threat, a promise."

Like some sort of deranged freak, she just kept staring at him, something inexplicable to his mind swimming behind her eyes... What was it? He didn't understand...

This girl was not normal. Not in any sense of the word. He knew her to be a former jaeger, nothing more than a little savage, but this was something else... The way she had spoken so matter-of-factly about harming him... She was cold-blooded.

In his peripheral vision, he was certain he noticed the slightest of movements; despite himself Verrat visibly flinched, stumbling backward out of fear.

...

Opening his eyes, Verrat realized no one had made any move to harm him; his cheeks flushed red—it had been nothing. And now they were all staring at him—how humiliating!

"I-I...Rrgh!" He growled in anger and frustration.

Fear and shame coalesced; he could endure this no longer. Lashing out was a foolish notion, considering he was outnumbered; he had remove himself from this situation, posthaste. Steeling himself, he moved forward and forcefully brushed past Fie. "Out of my way!"

With that, Verrat stomped off.

.

.

.

With the exception of Fie, the others watched Verrat's retreating form until he was out of sight. Once he was gone, they turned their attention to her.

...

Silence returned, as no one was sure what to say... How much of that had she heard, the three wondered collectively? There was another, more pressing question, however.

Jusis was the one to ask it, "How long have you been privy to Rean's injuries?"

"Since yesterday."

"And Verrat was the one responsible?"

She nodded.

Machias frowned at her answers, "Why didn't you inform us? Or anyone else, for that matter?"

"Rean asked me not to."

He could not believe this girl! "If he told you to jump off a bridge, would you!?"

She shrugged, "Probably."

Releasing a heavy sigh, Machias pushed up his glasses and began massaging the bridge of his nose, "I can't tell if you're being serious right now, and that legitimately concerns me."

She just gave him a blank look in response.

"Is this a common occurrence? Does Rean truly experience such discrimination?" Laura finally spoke up.

Fie didn't bother responding verbally, simply giving her friend a look. It sufficed as an answer.

'She said Rean was always troubled as a child, but I could never have conceived that this was what she meant.'

Laura, much to her chagrin, could understand such deep-seated prejudice. What she couldn't fathom was the sheer petty cruelty. Years of abhorrent treatment from his peers, all because of his blood... Father had cautioned her more than once that a great many nobles viewed themselves as intrinsically superior to those of common blood, but to truly see it firsthand was...unpleasant. And to know Rean had endured it nearly his entire life... Even now, it continued just outside of her purview it seemed.

Laura's stomach was in knots. Stepping forward, a mix of emotions colored her expression, "Fie, why would Rean hide this from us? Why would you assist him in doing so?"

The two girls locked eyes; neither gaze wavered as they stared back at each other. The answer needn't be said, it was already clear, at least in regards to Fie: he'd asked her to.

"Is his trust in us truly so scant?" Laura pressed further, unable to conceal the hurt in her voice.

"It's not about trust. Up until now, acknowledging how he's treated has only made things worse."

Fie proceeded to relay the events of Rean's first meeting with Verrat, as well as every other incident she could recall in regards to the nobility's mistreatment.

...

Knowing all this didn't make Laura feel any better.

"Back to the matter at hand: now that the situation has escalated, it would be best to involve the faculty—preferably before you are required to make good on your promise." Jusis said.

"He deserves it, without a doubt. However, you don't deserve the severe consequences that would surely follow." Machias added.

Fie's eyes shifted to them, "Mm. Rean said he'd take care of it; he's concerned that Verrat might hurt someone else."

Machias' brow furrowed, "While I'm glad he's finally going to take action, I'm perturbed that was his reasoning—what about him?"

"That's what I said."

Jusis couldn't help but recall his conversation with Rean that night in Bareahard, 'Twisted, indeed.'

Laura was simply at a loss for words at the moment.

...

Another lull of silence fell between the four...

Fie decided now was the time to leave. As she made for the stairs, one of the others broke the newest bout of silence.

"Certainly you are not so foolish as to assume we won't be sharing this incident with the rest of the class?"

She paused briefly at Jusis' words. Seemingly considering them, she tilted her head slightly, but she didn't speak further. Then, she simply resumed walking away.

Jusis raised an eyebrow at such a reaction. 'I see...'

Laura opened her mouth to call out to her friend, but words continued to fail her. What was she supposed to say? What was the proper way to handle this? How did she confront an entire societal ill? It's not like she could beat it back with sheer force, nor was it possible to talk it down—how could she possibly help!? Then again, was it really Fie she should be trying so desperately to talk to?

Machias was still repressing the urge to go after Verrat and throttle him senseless, so to see Fie remain so calm in the face of everything? That, to him, was honestly laudable. More importantly, she was taking measures to protect Rean from further escalation on Verrat's part. It was evident that she would not allow that noble scum to ruin Rean's life any further. If only he'd been able to do the same...

He wasn't being fair, he knew that. He'd only been a child at the time, what could he have possibly done? But even still... 'Sis...'

He decided then, in that moment, he couldn't just leave things like this. If Fie was going about this her way, then he would go about it his way. 'I won't let something like that happen again...'

---

"Schwarzer!"

No more than a moment after he'd stepped foot outside the main building, Rean was waylaid by one Patrick T. Hyarms. Stifling the urge to sigh, Rean turned to face him.

The strawberry-blond noble crossed his arms, and fixed his 'lesser' with an appraising stare, "What are you plotting?"

Rean's brow furrowed, "I'm sorry, what?"

"First, you go tearing across the campus like a madman—I won't soon forget how you attempted to intimidate me—then you vanish for a day. Now you return, as if nothing is out of the ordinary—after being caught gallivanting in the rain, shirking your academic responsibilities. Don't get me started about the rumors going around about you... Is this some sort of petty, juvenile act of rebellion, or have you simply lost your mind? Or perhaps it's simply the fact that Baron Schwarzer never instilled proper etiquette into you?"

Rean bit back another sigh at that. 'I really don't want to have this conversation...'

"Speaking of strange occurrences: I believe you owe me an explanation as to the contents of that envelope that had you in a tizzy. Ordinarily, I would not care, however, seeing as it found its way into my hands, I deserve to know."

'Scratch that. I am definitely NOT having this conversation.'

"Patrick, do we really have to do this? You don't like me, I get it. I'm sorry that I offended you before, truly. I never meant anything by it. Can't we just let bygones be bygones?"

"You should keep your station in mind: you are not true nobility. You have proven that with your painful lack of sophistication and manners. As an adopted noble, you-"

"If you're so hung up on the fact that I'm adopted, why did you invite me to the salon in the first place?"

"I was trying to pay you a kindness, you impudent good-for-nothing!"

"Come again?"

"I deigned to proffer you a hand when most of my fellow nobles dismissed you outright. I did what a scant few, if any, among the nobility would ever consider—invited the lowborn into our circle. You ought to have wept in gratitude at my generous offer, but did you? No. Not only did you show not so much as a hint of gratitude, you avoided me like a disease. Do you realize how foolish that made me appear!?"

Rean took a moment to consider Patrick's words; far from kind, they were caustic, pompous and condescending. However, the point they were trying to get across seemed genuine enough. While far from magnanimous, Patrick, in his own way, had attempted to be cordial and welcoming back then, even if he'd come across as a bit of an asshole while doing so. Rean could understand where he was coming from, at least a bit. It was certainly more benign than how most other nobles had treated him over the years.

More than anything though, old habits die-hard. "I'm sorry, Patrick. I didn't mean to cause you trouble."

The sheer look of bewilderment that overcame Patrick was almost comical; of all the things he'd expected to come about from this confrontation, an unfeigned, heartfelt apology hadn't so much as registered as a possibility. How was he supposed to work with that? He'd come to give this false-noble a proper dressing-down; verbally wipe the floor with him and put him in his place. How was he supposed to take satisfaction in delivering a tongue-lashing if the recipient was so...genuinely apologetic?

It was just so...so...vexing!

"Schwarzer, you confounded, imprudent-Urgh! I can't even with you!"

Apparently that was the end of the conversation, as Patrick proceeded to stomp off.

.

.

.

Rean finally let out the sigh he'd been holding in, 'I just can't win, can I?'

"SCHWARZER!"

'Shit.'

Turning to face the one who'd shouted, he caught sight of a red-faced Verrat marching his way over to him.

'I was hoping to avoid him until I had sorted things out, so much for that.'

The Cayenne heir came to an abrupt stop roughly an arge from his target, and unloaded. "You! You-you-I cannot believe your cowardice! You spineless, worthless-Ugh! You don't even possess the courage to-you don't have the balls-I am utterly flummoxed at the depths of your patheticness! You can't even fight your own battles!"

Rean stifled the urge to roll his eyes, "What are you going on about? What could I have possibly done now?"

"You know exactly what I'm on about. That savage little bitch that hangs around you, you sent her-"

Rean's eyes narrowed, "Watch your mouth."

Verrat double-taked so hard it was a miracle he didn't experience whiplash, "Excuse me!?"

"You don't get to talk about Fie."

"I will say whatever I wish about whomever I damn well please!"

"Verrat, you've crossed a lot of lines. Trust me when I say: you don't want to cross this one."

The way the worthless bastard had spoken to him, tone low, dangerous—it was unlike anything Verrat had ever heard from him before. It. Was. Infuriating!

"You dare-"

"Rean?" A concerned voice suddenly interjected.

Rean and Verrat both looked over to the source: Towa Herschel.

'I can't believe I let myself get so distracted that I didn't notice her presence...'

"The Student Council President..." The Cayenne progeny scoffed under his breath.

The diminutive girl's brow furrowed at the openly hostile air of the situation, "Is everything okay?"

A number of conclusions could be drawn from the less than amicable scene before her; Towa was disconcerted about the implications of every one of them.

Verrat was many things, but a fool was not one of them, "I was just leaving.", were all the words he spared for her, before storming off.

...

"What was that all about?" Towa asked.

"He and I have some...history; it's complicated."

That didn't tell her anything.

"I heard shouting, were you fighting?"

"You could say that..." Rean replied noncommittally.

How much prompting did he need? Why couldn't he just tell her what was going on? She grew more concerned by the moment. "Rean..."

"It's nothing to worry about, President Towa. I'm handling it." He assured her with that smile of his.

The more she saw that smile, the more something nagged at her mind. Why was that? Over the past two months, she'd worked with Rean extensively; he was one of the most kind-hearted, upstanding, and reliable people she'd ever had the pleasure of knowing. So why had she begun to feel so ill at ease when she saw that smile? 'For some reason, it reminds me of how Crow used to be...'

But that made absolutely no sense. Their behaviors weren't even remotely similar... She banished such strange, nonsensical thoughts from her mind. "If you're sure...", She wasn't, however, she did not wish to push him.

"I'm sure."

Even still...

"That matter aside, there's another reason I came to find you."

His smile gave way to one more modest; in the same instance, the peculiar quality that bothered her so seemed to fade. "Something I can help you with?"

"No, nothing school related, at least. Would you mind terribly if we talked for a bit? I'll treat you to dinner."

It was a kind offer; she'd only made it once before. What was this about, he wondered? Refusal on the tip of his tongue, he noted the earnest look in her eyes—he couldn't just turn her down. "Yeah, okay."

---

The students of Class VII, excluding a particular duo, were gathered on the third floor of their dormitory. Gaius, Elliot, Emma, and Alisa occupied the couches, while the other three stood.

No one said a word—the occasional sniffle from Elliot was the only source of noise to fill the heavy silence. What Jusis, Machias and Laura had relayed to the others rendered them gobsmacked. They all knew something was up with Rean, that something wasn't right, but this... they had never imagined it could be something like this.

Alisa wasn't sure how to feel. She'd been so suspicious, always trying to figure out what he was hiding from everyone, and yet she hadn't picked up on his hardship at all. The whole time she spent wary of him and whatever secret he was keeping, he was being harassed, bullied, physically assaulted. What the hell did that say about her? Was she truly so preoccupied with her preconceived notions that she couldn't see what was right in front of her? She'd been so laser-focused on that one thing—that weird feeling he gave her—that she couldn't be bothered to notice anything else. Now, didn't that seem familiar? Her stomach churned, 'Just like Mother...'

Gaius had been told of how Rean was treated by the nobility, heard it straight from Fie's mouth—it wasn't until now that the extent of the mistreatment truly sunk in. It had gotten to the point where Rean had been outright attacked... And for what? Because he didn't have the correct ancestry, because he didn't have the right blood? The concept was so alien to Gaius that he found himself unable to grow angry; he was simply bewildered. More than that, he was unsure of what to do, what course of action to take... 'How can I help?'

Elliot couldn't wrap his head around it. Rean was one of the kindest people he knew; he was respectful and pleasant to everybody—he was a genuinely nice guy. Why would anyone ever treat him so poorly? Elliot had known his fair share of nobles, most weren't pleasant; this was on a whole other level. He was used to raised noses and haughty attitudes, but how Rean had been treated was something else entirely... And all because he'd been adopted into a minor noble's family. Suddenly, Elliot's own problems didn't seem quite as grievous as they once were. 'I had no idea...'

Emma wondered, if she had been performing her duty properly, observing Rean more often, keeping a closer eye on him...could she have prevented what happened? At the very least, this most recent incident? It was a pointless idle thought, it was too late for anything to be done about it, yet it nagged at her anyway. Moreover, she'd worried before that he needed time to acclimate and simply deal with everything that was happening in his life—this revelation redoubled her concerns. And if he truly was the 'one', she knew things would only grow more difficult for him from hereout, 'Poor guy...'

The silence lingered between them all for some time.

---

Rean sat down on one of the couches as Towa poured the tea she'd just finished brewing for the two of them. When she offered to buy him dinner, he'd expected to eat in the cafeteria as they'd done the first time. Instead, they'd brought their meals to the Student Council room; this was a private affair, apparently.

Towa took her seat across from him on the other couch, and took a slow sip of her tea. Perhaps she was waiting for him to open up, or maybe she simply didn't want to just dive headfirst into the topic; Rean had no clue was to which was the case. Regardless, he had no intention of being the one to broach the subject.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Placing her cup down on the table, Towa took a moment to study his features, clearly searching for something. Whether she found it or not, Rean hadn't the slightest inkling.

"Are you doing okay, Rean?" Her gentle cadence made it difficult to not answer.

"What do you mean?"

"I was a little worried after our discussion regarding those love letters; you were so agitated, it seemed out of character. The very next day, you're out sick. And now I find you engaged in some sort of confrontation with another student. Perhaps I'm simply being a worrywart, but I can't help but come to the conclusion that these instances are connected."

Not quite accurate, but Rean felt little need to correct her.

"I'm sorry, President Towa, I didn't mean to make you worry. I assure you, everything's fine. Turns out those letters were just a prank, nothing to get worked up about. As for yesterday... I had some personal issues to sort out." A half-truth—better that than lie to her face again.

She made no attempt to goad a further response; he'd expected her to push harder in regards to what she'd seen outside, he was grateful she didn't.

"I apologize for neglecting my duties as a student of Thors. I shouldn't have misused a sick day like that."

Towa shook her head, "There's no need to apologize, everyone needs a day to decompress."

Rean couldn't help but chuckle at that, "You say that, but knowing you, I bet you've never once given so much as a thought to taking a day for yourself."

That caused her to giggle in turn; she had enough to self-awareness to look sheepish as she said, "I suppose you've got me there."

...

The conversation seemed to stall, neither participant speaking for several moments, causing the slight levity they'd established to fall away. In the silence, Rean opted to have a drink of his tea; it was blatantly obvious he had no intention of continuing the discourse.

In the wake of this, Towa, like an open book, allowed her emotions to color her voice and expression, "If you don't want to talk about it, I won't force you. But, Rean, I want you to know I'm here for you. Whatever's troubling you, I'll listen."

She was so nakedly concerned about him... It simultaneously warmed his heart and made his stomach squirm. She really was his friend, but they weren't particularly close, yet she still...

"I've been having some trouble with another student."

She'd gotten through, finally!

"Verrat, right?"

Rean simply nodded his head. 'You should've learned your place by now! Keep your head down and accept your pathetic lot in life, you unwanted bastard!'

"What-"

It was at moment that the door swung open. "Yo, Towa, guess who came to keep his favorite student council president company?"

Crow, plate of food in hand, waltzed on into the room like he owned the place. As the door closed behind him, he took notice of the scene: Rean and Towa across from one other, food and drink on the table. Lips quirking up into a grin at the sight, he said, "My bad, didn't mean to interrupt."

Neither of them seemed to pick up on his insinuation.

"Don't worry, I'll get out of your hair. You two continue your date."

Rean didn't bother replying to that, looking down at his untouched meal. 'What do you even want from me!? Do you want me to admit to it, admit that you're right?! Fine then, I admit it! You're right! I'm worthless, useless, I'm the pariah of the nobility; I'm not good enough to be a part of the Schwarzer family or attend this school! And I'm certainly not good enough for F-'

Towa frowned, "Crow, now's not the time for your jokes..."

Walking over to them, Crow placed his plate down on the table; he did not join either of them on the couches—his grin had fallen away. "What's goin' on? If Towa's frownin', somethin' must be up."

Rean stood from his seat, "It's nothing."

Towa looked up at him from her seat, "Rean?"

"Sorry, President Towa, I should be going."

"If that's what you want. But, Rean, you don't need to. We've only just started talking, not to mention you haven't touched your food. If this is about what we were discussing, then we'll drop it, okay? The last thing I wanted was to make you uncomfortable."

'If you're aware of how worthless your existence is, then just fucking end it already, Schwarzer. You'd be doing the world a favor.' Rean shook his head, then regarded her with a smile, "It's nothing like that, don't worry. I appreciate your concern, though."

There was that smile again... It was almost like it didn't fit his face—it didn't belong. What is this? Towa couldn't make sense of it...

"I'm not feeling very hungry at the moment; sorry to squander your generosity, President Towa. Please, allow me to pay you back." Rean reached into his jacket pocket, retrieved his wallet and fished some mira from it; he placed the currency on the table and returned his wallet to his pocket.

She held up her hands, motioning for him to stop, "You don't need to do that."

"I want to." His smile almost seemed...normal, in that moment.

Towa wasn't sure what to say...

"I'll see you la-"

As Rean turned to leave, Crow, having been conspicuously silent, grabbed his shoulder. "Rean-Meister, what's the prob-"

Despite himself, Rean visibly winced at the contact. Withdrawing his hand immediately, Crow's brows knitted together; what was that? Then it clicked in his mind—Verrat. When Rean had spoken of an altercation with a student, Crow had figured he knew what had gone down; he hadn't realized it'd been this bad.

"Rean, are you hurt?" Towa's voice dripped with concern; it almost made Rean wince a second time.

He had already decided he wouldn't lie to her again, "Yeah, but don't worry, it's nothing serious."

His back was still to her, however, he could almost feel her gaze boring into him; it was obvious his assurance did nothing to mollify her concern. Rubbing the back of his neck, he tried to think of a way to explain without outright lying—none came to mind. He'd have to elaborate as to what happened eventually, but, it wasn't going to be now. "Sorry, President Towa, but I really do need to get going."

"Wait, Rean!"

Rean didn't heed her, closing the door to the student council room behind him as he left.

Towa stood from her seat, preparing to follow after him, when Crow put his hand out in front of her. Brow furrowing, she looked up at her friend, "Crow?"

"Let him be, he's gotta deal with it in his own way."

"What do you mean? Do you know what happened?"

"Not really, but, I have an idea as to what went down. Don't know for sure; ain't got a way to confirm it."

"Even so, I'd like to know. I want to help Rean, if I can."

She was so darned earnest, Crow had always liked that about her. Regarding her with a half-smile, he said, "You've really taken a shine to him, huh? Maybe the date thing wasn't so far off the mark..."

"Tease me all you like, I'm not going to back down on this one."

Crow chuckled at that, "When have you ever backed down, Towa?"

She fixed him with a glare, "I'm serious, Crow."

"When aren't you?"

"Crow Armbrust..."

She broke out his full name, she really was serious, "Alright, alright, I'll tell you what I know."

Before he could, however, there was a knock at the door. The two looked at each other, sharing a moment of silent agreement that they'd continue this conversation afterward.

"Come in."

The door opened and the visitor walked in—it was Machias. The Class VII VP closed the door behind him, and said, "President Herschel, I need to speak with you."

...

Towa sat behind her desk, hands together, taking time to digest all that she had just been told. Machias had laid it all out for her, informing her of every detail he was cognizant of about Rean's situation in regards to Verrat. From what he'd been told, to what he'd witnessed firsthand.

.

.

.

Towa finally broke the silence to ask, "Crow, was that what you were going to tell me?"

Machias eyed the second-year slacker in that moment, he'd been present, but uncharacteristically quiet the entire time. He'd cleared the table while Machias relayed all he knew, before returning to where he'd originally been standing; nothing more, nothing less. His usual care-free attitude was noticeably absent. To Machias' eyes, Crow had appeared to be lost in thought the entire time.

"Yeah, though I wasn't aware of quite so many particulars." Crow answered.

It all lined up in Towa's mind. The argument she'd stumbled upon, Rean's odd behavior, the fact that he was injured... He'd even admitted that he'd been having trouble with another student. How hadn't she seen it sooner? "I had no idea..."

"If things are allowed to continue like this, then-" Machias began.

Towa's gaze hardened, "I understand. I will do everything I can to help. Such atrocious behavior is completely unacceptable—it will not be tolerated in this academy."

Machias was impressed by her sudden shift in demeanor: one moment she was melancholic, the next she was stern, and spoke with the full authority her position carried. He honestly hadn't expected that from her. She had a reputation for being supremely helpful to just about everyone—an endless fount of kindness. However, no one ever spoke of how she conducted herself in regards to disciplinary issues. So to see this side of her... It instilled Machias with the confidence that he'd made the right decision bringing this to her attention. If the worst came to pass and the faculty refused to help Rean—she would.

---

Gone. They're all gone. They left. Why? Why did they leave? Weren't they all supposed to be a family? Family didn't leave, did they? Why did they leave her? Why was she the only one who got left behind? WHY!?

...

She struggled to hold back to tears; she forced herself to stifle a sob—she was all alone.

.

.

.

"Hey."

What? She didn't recognize that voice... Turning around, she caught sight of a woman approaching her. How hadn't she noticed her before now? She hadn't seen, heard, or even sensed anything... Who the hell was this woman? Instantly on guard, she wiped away the still forming tears and brandished her gun-blades; jumping back a few feet, she put some distance between herself and the stranger.

The woman didn't react to the defensive action other than halting her stride. "Your name's Fie, yeah? I'm Sara."

This Sara didn't appear to have hostile intentions, but it could easily be an act. She continued to speak—Fie wasn't listening to a single word that came out of her mouth. Instead, her eyes ran up and down the woman's form, scrutinizing every minute motion. She studied her hand movements, looking for any sign of reaching for a weapon; she kept a close watch on the woman's feet for the slightest hint that she may pivot or rush forward—Sylphid would not be caught off guard.

.

.

.

Fie relaxed her stance ever so slightly as the woman calmly went on, explaining how she'd been following the situation with Zephyr, that she was a bracer, and so on and so forth—everything she was saying checked out. Her alleged profession explained much of what made her suspicious; her cool demeanor in the face of a jaeger with weapons drawn, her lack of desire to fight in the face of that, and her info on the corps. This woman seemed to be on the up and up.

In that moment, Sara reached her hand out to the young girl; smiling, she said, "Why don't you com with me? I'll look after you awhile."

Fie faltered, weapons lowering; she could not find the words to respond. What was this? It couldn't be real, could it? Someone coming along so soon after she'd been left all alone? Even if this woman was one of those goodie-goodie type bracers, she couldn't possibly wish to take in a jaeger like her, right? It had to be some sort of trap... But did it matter? What was left for her? She had been abandoned by the only family she'd ever known... What was even the point?

Fie put her weapons away and reached out in turn, taking hold of the hand offered to her.

...

"Soooo, you ever gonna talk to me?"

"..."

"I know it's only been two days, but you could at least acknowledge me or somethin'. A 'good morning', a 'goodnight'; a simple 'hey' would do."

"..."

"You are the quietest teenager I have ever known."

"..."

"Would you look at me, at least?"

Fie felt hands under her chin, as she was gently coerced into raising her head. Chartreuse met gold; Sara held her gaze firm, maintaining direct eye-contact, face only two rege away, "Hey, everything's gonna be okay, I promise."

"How would you know?"

"She speaks!"

...

"I'll get us some dinner. What are you in the mood for?"

"..."

"Come on, Fie, just tell me. I dunno about you, but I'm getting pretty sick of this song and dance. I ask what you want, you keep up your moody silence, I pick something at random; you eat half of whatever I give you. You obviously don't share my taste in food; if you simply tell me want you wanna eat, I'll get it."

"..."

"Fie, please?"

"Whatever's fine."

Sara let out a long sigh, "Pasta it is."

...

"Feel like talking today?" Sara asked, plopping down next to Fie.

"..."

Unlike usual, the bracer didn't give up and sigh at the silence; she allowed the quiet to linger.

.

.

.

As the moments dragged on, turning to minutes without so much as a sound, the mood in the air shifted. "Why?"

Sara's brow furrowed, "Why what?"

Fie curled up into herself, hugging her knees to her chest, "Why did they leave me behind?"

"Fie..."

Despite herself, tears began building behind her eyes; she hung her head, "Did I do something wrong?"

Arms were around her then, pulling her close: Sara embraced her. "No, of course not—you did nothing wrong."

Choking back sobs, Fie untangled herself and reciprocated the hug.

"Hey, hey, it's okay; I'm here, I've got you. Just let it all out."

For the first time in a long while, Fie let go and allowed herself to cry.

...

"We should be there in a few hours, feel free to have a nap in the meantime."

.

.

.

Sara snoozed away next to her; Fie had no desire to join her new caretaker in dreamland. She had a half a mind to take advantage of the woman's sleeping state to hop off the train at the next stop and put as much distance between them as possible. However, she couldn't bring herself to act on such thoughts. This woman was pushy and annoying, but she truly did seem to care for some strange reason. But... Why?

Why did she keep trying to connect with her? To get her to open up? Why would she try so hard to build some kind of bond between them? Sara had shared so much about her life: North Ambria, Colonel Valestein, the Northern Jaegers, her life as a bracer; all in an effort to...what? Sympathize? Empathize? It didn't matter, there was no point... One day, Sara would leave too. Everyone Fie ever came to care about was either taken from her, or left her behind. That was why it would be better if she just took off—might as well get it over with, she figured. But... She couldn't bring herself to do it. More than anything, she just didn't want to be alone; that was enough to stamp out any desire to flee.

Even if Sara eventually left... Even if Fie was abandoned again... At least this way, she could keep the cold, suffocating feeling of loneliness at bay just a little bit longer.

...

Fie told herself over and over again that it would be different this time; Sara wouldn't leave her, would not abandon her. It had been months, and everything was fine. Sara'd even brought her to her new place of work, a school: a military academy. The bracer had taken up a teaching position, and Fie herself was playing catch up with her studies so that she could enroll as a student next year. This was real, this was permanent. And yet... The numbness would not subside, no matter how many times she reassured herself.

It really was only a matter of time, wasn't it?

.

.

.

"Fie..."

---

He should have told her, that's all Rean can think about on his way to the dorms. Towa was one of the kindest, most generous people he'd ever known. He had only ever seen her give; she would not have thought less of him. Pity him, perhaps; not a pleasant thought, but one he could learn to live with if necessary. So, what was the worst that could have happened? She'd become apologetic for being unable to help him, nothing more. She was the safest choice. Why hadn't he gone with it? But that was precisely why, wasn't it? If she couldn't do anything to help, wouldn't she be beside herself? She had enough on her plate as it was, she didn't need his problems on top of the mountain of responsibilities weighing on her shoulders.

It wasn't just his problem anymore though, was it? While he didn't believe Verrat was likely to lash out at someone else, it wasn't an impossibility. He didn't want anyone else getting hurt, especially not when he could have prevented it. The fact remained that he still had to inform someone of Verrat's actions.

...

Rean's train of thought was derailed as he entered the center of town, and took notice of the fact that a certain someone was in the little park. Fie lie there, curled up on the same bench she'd occupied on his first day here in Trista—dozing away. Despite everything, he couldn't help but give a soft smile at the sight.

The sun was dipping below the horizon; while curfew was still roughly two hours away, students weren't allowed outside their dorms after nightfall without explicit permission from a faculty member—he'd best wake her. Walking over to her side, he crouched so as to be eye-level with the sleeping girl. In that position, he was able to register how the fading sunlight illuminated her face, accentuating her soft, angelic-like features—she was stunningly beautiful. The words he'd been about to speak died on his tongue. She looked so peaceful... He didn't want to wake her. His want, however, didn't really matter much, did it?

'It's okay, I promise. You've always taken care of me. Now it's my turn: let me take care of you. You don't have to suffer alone, not anymore. I'll be here, beside you, always.'

'Why would someone as incredible as you ever choose someone like me...?' Burying that thought deep, Rean reached out to brush a few stray strands of silver hair back behind her ear. "Fie..."

She stirred, eyes fluttering open; she sat up. The other half of the bench now free, he took the spot, joining her. They still had a few minutes, he rationalized; no need to rush. "Sorry I kept you waiting."

"S'cool." She said with a yawn, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Principal give you much trouble?"

"Not really. He just wanted to speak with me about my absence. He was already aware of the circumstances, more or less, so it turned out fine."

"Mm."

"After that I had to deal with Patrick, then Towa offered to treat me to dinner."

"Mm."

"She wanted to talk about what's been going on with me lately. It...didn't go well."

"You didn't tell her?"

"No."

"Who are you going to tell?"

"I...haven't really decided yet. It's a short list, though."

"Mm."

"I also had another run-in with Verrat."

Fie leaned into Rean, resting her head on his shoulder; she reached out, hesitated for a brief moment, then hugged his arm to her chest. A light blush played at his cheeks; he looked over at her, "Fie?"

"What did he do?"

Was she trying to comfort him? Or...

"Nothing. He was just raving. About you, partially. Did something happen?"

"Told him to stay away from you."

"You didn't have to-"

She tightened her hold, squeezing his arm. Was she actually trying to comfort herself?

"I thought you were going to let me handle it?"

"Only reporting him."

This really bothered her, he realized, "Fie, I'm s-"

She squeezed his arm tighter, "Don't you dare apologize."

"I-"

"You didn't do anything wrong."

Rean opened his mouth to insist that he had, indeed, done something wrong if she was upset. The conviction she spoke with, however, convinced him otherwise. So with a sigh, he said, "Okay.", he may not fully believe that, but he would go along with it, for now.

.

.

.

They sat there like that for a number of minutes, in silence. During that time, Rean realized they were the only people present in the town square. Jane had closed up shop for the day, Tyzel and her feather duster were nowhere in sight, and Dolly was, presumably, serving customers with Fred inside Kirsche's. While the pair were out in the open, they were, for all intents and purposes, alone together.

Chancing another glance at Fie, it finally sunk in just how close she was. Despite himself, Rean's heart sped up; he couldn't help but rub the back of his neck with his free hand. Should he say something? Or simply leave it be? They'd just become a couple and he had only the slightest notion of what he was supposed to do; this was skirting the line of what he knew how to handle. However, it was not as though he was unaccustomed to this: physical affection wasn't out of the ordinary for Fie. Yet, this time, it was so...forward? Open? Different? He wasn't sure how to describe it, to be perfectly honest. He'd always known she was a blunt and straightforward kind of person, he'd just never imagined that might translate physically. In hindsight, he could admit, he should have seen it coming.

"Rean?"

"Yeah?"

"The others know."

Rean felt his stomach drop; his previous thoughts were forgotten, "What?"

"When I went to confront Verrat; Laura, Jusis, and Machias were already there. He didn't outright admit what he did, but it was enough."

"I guess Laura couldn't leave it alone."

"Would you?"

"No." He admitted with a sigh.

"They asked me about it. Since they already knew, didn't see the point in keeping it from them; I told'em everything about him. They've probably already told the others."

The rest of the class knew about Verrat? About his entire history with Verrat? Just. Great.

He was sure Fie didn't give them any of the particularly sensitive details, but them being aware of even just the barebones of what has occurred between the two of them was... Disconcerting. What in Gehenna was he supposed to do? How were they going to act when he saw them? What would they say? How would they feel? Would they tell anyone else? Would they tell Instructor Sara? Would-

At Rean's lack of response, Fie's hold on his arm loosened. "Are you mad?"

That got him out of his own head, right quick. "No, of course not. Like you said, they already knew, at least for the most part. Besides, I know you wouldn't tell them unless you thought it was for the best. I trust your judgement, Fie."

She went quiet at that; he fell back into his thoughts. This new round of silence didn't last long, however. Releasing her hold on his arm and lifting her head from its place on his shoulder, Fie pressed her lips to Rean's cheek. The contact pulled him back into the moment, face flushing a deeper red than before. As she pulled away, he used his newly freed hand to rub the spot she'd kissed, "This is going to take some getting used to.", he said with a sheepish chuckle.

At that, Fie reached out to Rean, bidding him to turn his head toward her; he complied without a word. Cupping his cheeks, she tilted his face slightly downward; closing the distance between them, she pressed her lips to his. This kiss, unlike the peck to the cheek, did not end quickly; her lips lingered for several moments before she pulled away.

As they parted, the two stared into each other's eyes, chartreuse dancing with lilac; neither had words to properly articulate themselves for a brief moment.

Fie was the one to recover first; a playful, almost catlike smirk crossed her face, "We could practice.", almost as if to spite her confident demeanor, her cheeks had taken on a deep red hue.

Rean somehow turned a deeper shade of red than previously, "Uh, y-yeah, I-I would like that.", he replied, scratching his cheek.

Fie quirked a brow at him, "Now?"

She was serious, wasn't she? Damn, this girl. Her teasing—was it teasing if she meant it?—was gonna give him a heart attack one day. "L-Later."

Fie retracted her hands from his person and returned them to her side, "M'kay."

...

After taking a few moments to calm down, allowing the red to fade from his face, Rean stood up, "We should probably head in, it's getting dark."

Fie stood in turn, "Alright."

It was at that moment that the two noticed Machias entering the town square. Why wasn't he in the dorms with the others? He was cutting it pretty close.

'Not that I have any room to talk.' Rean admitted to himself.

Rather than approach them, Machias made directly for the dorm, sparing only a moment to acknowledge the two with a brief nod.

"As much as I don't want to, I should probably go face the music." Rean said with a sigh.

"Good luck with that."

---

When Rean entered the Class VII dormitory, he'd half expected to see the rest of his classmates waiting for him; instead, he was greeted by the sight of Sara—not boozing it up!? She was sitting on one of the couches in the common area, but nary a drop of alcohol was in sight. He wasn't sure if that necessitated concern for her, or himself.

Sara smirked at the two, "Hey guys, what kept you? Your date run a little long, or...?"

Fie, unlike her boyfriend, just kept walking; not acknowledging her caretaker, she made straight for the bathroom. As she closed the door behind her, this, essentially, left Rean alone with their instructor.

"Was that because you're in the doghouse, or because I am?" Sara asked him, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"Instructor..."

"Okay, okay; I'll lay off for the day."

She let it go, just like that? Now he knew something was up; there was only one thing he figured it could be, "Should I take the absence of alcohol to mean you already know?"

"Oh, trust me, I had every intention of getting smashed tonight. However, just as I was starting to get a buzz going, a few kiddos came walking in looking like they were about to partake in a funeral procession. The three of them said there was a quote 'precarious situation' you were in that I needed to be made aware of."

Rean rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to come up with the words to explain.

"I told them I didn't want to know."

"What?"

"Judging by the look you gave me a moment ago, it's apparent you had no say in them finding out about whatever it is they thought I should know; I figured that was the case. Considering our talk a few days ago, it didn't feel right to learn about your issues secondhand—wouldn't have been very teacherly of me. I'm your instructor, it's my job to look out for you; my position, however, does not entitle me to all of your secrets. If I'm to know about whatever it is, it needs to come from you."

Rean wasn't sure how to respond.

"So, no, I don't know. What I do know is that one of my students is injured, and not only did he feel it necessary to hide it from his classmates, but also his instructor. I'd say I was hurt, however, this is far from the worst secret a man has kept from me." She shrugged. "I'll just cut to the chase: why did you try to hide your injuries?"

"I... I didn't want to get anyone else involved in my...predicament."

He was choosing his words carefully, Sara noted. Perhaps this, whatever it was, was more serious than she'd imagined. Her demeanor shifted ever so slightly as she leaned forward in her seat, "Rean, whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I don't want to burden anyone with my problems." Rean had spoken without thinking; Instructor Sara's more serious side still had that effect on him. There was a brief flash of emotion in his instructor's golden eyes, but he found himself unable to place which it was by the time it vanished.

"If you have a problem, you need to speak up for yourself: ask for help—there's no shame in that."

"I know that. Sorry, the way I phrased it made it sound worse than it is." He was rubbing the back of his neck again.

Sara frowned at this. She had kept a close eye on Rean in particular after she'd found out about his history with her ward. She'd seen how he applied himself during lessons and combat training; the way he threw himself wholeheartedly into the act of helping people, both during and outside of field studies; how he looked after Fie, meticulously making sure that she was comfortable and happy. He was a good kid; Sara wanted to help him. "I know I'm not the most...orthodox instructor, but I think I've earned at least a bit of trust by this point, don't you?"

Rean knew she was right. While Instructor Sara was a peculiar educator who had a tendency to shirk her responsibilities from time to time, teased her students mercilessly, and was wasted more often than not—she had still done more than enough to earn his trust. Saving all their lives, taking in Fie, all she'd done to take care of Fie in the year that followed, covering for him yesterday when she had absolutely no reason to, how she genuinely seemed to want help him... Despite her flaws, she was a reliable, caring instructor.

He'd been ruminating about it all day: who he would speak with, confide in. Mentally crossing off name after name... The choice seemed rather obvious, in hindsight. "It really isn't that big a deal, or, at least it wasn't until yesterday."

Sara suddenly had a creeping suspicion of what the issue more than likely was; her student's need to preface what he was going to say only made it more likely in her mind. It was honestly an easy conclusion to come to; if Rean wasn't injured down in the Old Schoolhouse or during training, that left two possibilities. One was that he'd gotten into a fight, a nasty one judging by how stiff he'd been during combat practice. The second, well...

"I've been experiencing some harassment from another student."

"And by harassment, you mean bullying."

"That would probably be a more accurate term, yeah." He conceded easily. "It's nothing I haven't dealt with before; it's not a big deal, really. However, yesterday things got out of hand."

And by that he meant it had evolved into a physical altercation, Sara surmised. "Would you mind showing me?"

Rean frowned, but obliged, rolling up one of his sleeves, revealing the generous smattering of bruises running along his arm.

"There's more than that, yeah?"

Rean grimaced; visibly reluctant, he unbuttoned his blazer and took it off, his shirt followed soon after, revealing his upper body. Littering his torso were a wide assortment of blacks, purples, and blues—all dreadful looking bruises. "I'm concerned that if he was willing to do this, that he might take his aggression out on someone else."

Scowling, Sara clicked her tongue, whether because of his statement or the sight of his battered body, he wasn't sure. "You gonna tell me who 'he' is?"

"Verrat Cayenne."

Ah, so that's how it is; now Sara understood. That would present a problem, wouldn't it? The heir of the most prestigious one of the Four Houses... If the boy's father was anything like certain other nobles, he would throw a bitch-fit if the school dared expel his son. Rean had already figured that out, and likely thought little would, or even could, be done. 'He's only bringing this to my attention so that measures can be taken to protect the other students.'

If Sara wasn't sure before, she certainly was now: Rean definitely had some sort of complex, and it was full-blown. 'This boy...'

Uncomfortable under her scrutiny, Rean turned around and pulled his shirt back on in the brief moments of silence, as well as his blazer. He was in the middle of buttoning it back up when he heard movement. Turning back around, he saw that his instructor had risen from her seat and had crossed the distance between them; leaning just slightly forward, she placed her hands ever so gently on his shoulders; she'd made herself eye-level with him. Her golden irises held his gaze as she said, "I'll take care of this, I promise."

Rean believed her; in that moment, he felt just a little lighter.

...

After Rean had gone upstairs to face what Sara had dubbed his 'intervention', she returned to her seat on one of the sofas. "You can come out now."

The bathroom door opened and closed; Fie crossed the room and sat on the sofa across from her caretaker; all the while Sara's eyes followed her. Chartreuse met gold, as Fie matched her instructor's gaze; it became readily apparent the young girl wasn't going to say anything unprompted.

"When did you pick up a habit of eavesdropping on conversations?"

Fie shrugged.

"Rean didn't seem to mind, which only confirms that you were aware of his situation."

Fie continued to hold her mentor's gaze, but said nothing.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Thought you said you wanted to hear it from him?"

"In most cases, yeah, but something like this... You know it's an exception." A deep frown formed on Sara's face. "Part of the reason I refused to hear the others out was because I was confident that, if something this serious was going on, you would have told me. Apparently, I was wrong."

Fie's usual stoic expression didn't so much as twitch at her guardian's open disapproval.

Sara sighed, "Fie, please, why did you not tell me?

"He asked me to let him handle it."

"And you just complied? What am I saying, of course you did." Sara let out another sigh, this one heavier than the previous; dealing with Fie sometimes made her feel ten years older. Really, she shouldn't have been surprised: before the school year had started, the younger ex-jaeger had been all too content to do whatever her mentor told her to. Oh, she would complain, but she usually did it anyway. It was obvious Fie was going to go along with whatever the boy she liked said, Sara was kicking herself for not realizing that sooner. She had thought before that Rean was the one wrapped around Fie's finger, evidently, the two were equally wrapped around each other's fingers; Sara couldn't decide if that was cute or concerning.

"I'd have told you if it was necessary."

Sara raised an eyebrow at such a statement. "Really?"

Fie nodded.

"And if while waiting for Rean to handle it, Verrat hurt him again? Or worse?"

She didn't even take a second to think about it, "I'd have beat him within a rege of his life."

Most instructors would have been highly alarmed at such an answer. But Sara... "Pfft! Hahaha!", she cackled.

Fie didn't see the humor in it, quite frankly.

"Rawr! Kitty's claws come out over her man, huh?" Sara attempted, and failed, to stifle further laughter.

Fie didn't bat an eyelash at the teasing; she had long since grown accustomed to it.

Unable to repress her mirth, Sara now sported a wide smirk. "I can't wait to see how bad you get when the two of you actually become an item."

The corners of Fie's mouth twitched faintly for the briefest of moments; the trace movement was nearly indiscernible to the common eye. Sara quirked a brow at her ward, had that been what she thought it was? Had that been the beginnings of a smile just now? What was that about? Rarely did anything crack her shell of complete indifference without her allowing it to... "Something else you're keeping from me?"

Fie allowed herself a half-smile, "Maybe."

With everything going on with Rean, what could Fie possibly be happy about? There was only one thing Sara could think of, "Oh, when did this happen?"

"Yesterday."

That raised some red flags. They'd gotten together the same day Rean was attacked? "Care to explain?"

"Mm."

So, Fie recounted the events of the previous day; she took care to omit the more private details, such as her panic attack and Rean's 'power' and the content of his emotional breakdown.

...

Sara nodded her head. "Okay, I see where you're coming from. Glad I don't have to actually try and give you a lecture about the importance of informing an authority figure when something's wrong."

A ghost of a frown formed on Fie's face, "Not a child, Sara."

Sara regarded her charge with a half-smirk, "No, you're a teenager. And sometimes that's worse, trust me."

Fie just rolled her eyes.

"By the way..." Standing from hear seat, Sara went around the table to join her ward on the other sofa; plopping down next to the younger girl, she wrapped her arms around Fie, hugging her from the side. "Congratulation, you've got yourself your first boyfriend! Welcome to the best and most complicated years of your adolescence."

Fie resisted the urge to squirm her way out of the awkward embrace. "The way you say that, not sure it's a good thing."

"Seriously though, good job. You took the initiative and pursued what you wanted without disregarding the feelings of those around you. More than that, you put your own desires aside to comfort your friend in his time of need. You did this all without being asked or told to. And while the result may not have been perfect, it rarely ever is. You did the best you could, and it worked out. In the end, that's all that matters.", Sara was all but beaming at her ward at this point, "You've taken your first steps toward independence; I'm proud of you, Fie."

Warmth permeated Fie's chest; she couldn't help but return the smile. "Thanks, Sara."

---

Rean found the second floor to be empty, so ascended the second set of stairs to the third floor. There, the rest of his classmates were waiting—even Elliot, who was still battling his cold judging by his sniffles, was with them. Half of them had been seated, but quickly stood at the sight of Rean.

No one said anything at first; his seven classmates were all staring at him, and all he could do was stare right back. Rean began rubbing the back of his neck, "Uh, hey, guys.", and averted his eyes. "Well, this is awkward."

...

A few seconds passed without replies from them, it becoming increasingly obvious that the others were waiting for him to speak on the matter first. So, with a sigh, he did, "Clearly you guys already know, so I'm not going to dance around it. The thing with Verrat-"

That name seemed to be the word they were waiting for, as they proceeded to go off.

"What the hell were you thinking!?"

"Why did you not confide in us!?"

"How foolish can you be!?"

"You should have told us!"

"We would have helped you!"

Rean was bombarded with their voices almost all at once, leaving him little room to respond.

"How are you feeling?"

"Are you all right, Rean?"

With the softer voices and calmer tones of Gaius and Emma, Rean was given the chance to speak in turn. "Yeah, I'm okay." Looking toward the other five, he continued, "I was in a difficult situation, but honestly, it really wasn't that bad before yesterday, not really. It definitely wasn't pleasant, but it never went beyond petty verbal attacks. Things just kind of escalated this time, and I wasn't able to stop it. I apologize for any worry I've caused you guys."

That set his classmates off a second time—all of them—leaving him subject to rebukes and lectures from the lot of them.

Alisa, "Don't apologize! No one should ever be treated like that! Every single one of us would have stood up for you, no matter who it was—you have to know that!"

Laura, "Are you truly so presumptuous as to believe keeping such a debacle to yourself was the correct course of action!? I cannot so much as fathom a reason to conceal such things! You have helped almost every single one us in some manner or another, so why in Aidios' name would you not allow us to return the favor!? Do you mistrust us so? Are we not friends?"

Jusis, "Rest assured, I have no desire to play your nursemaid or anything of the like, you are free to keep any secrets you so wish and act in whatever manner you please. However, this matter would bear mentioning even if we were not friends. I would have assisted you on the principle of the matter alone: Verrat's actions are a complete mockery of noblesse oblige—that is something I will not abide by."

Machias, "Have you already forgotten what I said to you!? Why were you attempting to suffer in silence again!? I'm your friend, Rean; I want to help you! What about that simple logic can you possibly not comprehend!?"

Elliot, "We're your friends; you can trust us! I get that you may not have wanted people to know, but we could have figured something out together! You don't have to go through this all by yourself!"

Emma, "I am aware that I'm likely overstepping my bounds, however, whatever your reasons for keeping what transpired to yourself, they are moot in regards to your wellbeing. I'm certain everyone, faculty included, would agree with me on that."

Gaius, "I must confess that I am still largely ignorant of how precisely the class system functions and how it impacts this country, so perhaps what I'm about to say will sound like nothing but empty air, but I feel as though it still needs to be said. Regardless of what privileges' nobility grants, nothing can grant someone the right to treat others in such a deplorable fashion—so please, Rean, do not ever feel as though you must suffer such abuse, especially not alone."

Rean was completely overwhelmed by their passionate proclamations, and even more so at the sheer abundance of concern they seemed to have for him—he was honestly touched. Warmth flooded his chest, "I-I don't know what to say."

His eyes passed over the face of each of his classmates: they were all looking at him with a wide array of emotions. There was one thing they all had in common, however, concern—for him. They all felt so strongly about this... He wasn't so sure he warranted such an outpouring of care. "I'm sorry for not telling you guys sooner."

That was, apparently, not the right thing to say; half of them went off again, while the others bore deep frowns. They chewed him out, then the calmer members of the class attempted to smooth things out once more. It was beginning to become a pattern at this point. It almost made him chuckle, to be honest.

Rean realized he was more than likely going to be stuck listening to them chastise him for his foolishness for awhile longer, but he honestly couldn't find it in him to be bothered. Everything with Fie, and now this...? He...honestly could not remember the last time he'd felt so genuinely happy.

To the collective confusion of his classmates, Rean smiled at them. "Thank you."

---

END NOTE: No editing; finally done. I rewrote almost every fucking scene in this chapter multiple times, until I managed to find what felt right—hopefully you guys enjoyed it. I'm gonna go unwind with some games.