Once upon a time, Kiria would have hated the absolute dark of Fairy Tail's hideout. Without the network of floodlights carving the shadows into livable spaces, they would be stumbling about like forsaken creatures. He enjoyed the sunlight, being out and about in the world, amongst the witless masses.

Now, he winced whenever they breached the surface. Cloudless sky or miserable storm, there was always a few moments where his oddly-shaped eyes needed to shield themselves from blazing incandescence. Fitting, he thought. Poetic, even.

Still, it was important to maintain appearances, so he sheltered his eyes and dusted his blazer off before returning his attention to the empty wheelchair he'd unloaded from his car. He pushed it up the accessible slope and through the automatic doors of the hospital.

The nurse behind reception recognised him, and wore a winning smile which he thinly mirrored. "Master Yoshii. So good to see you again."

"And you, Chief Kōrin, and you. How're the kids?"

"Incorrigible. I'd say I can't wait for them to grow up, but that would mean dealing with teenagers."

"They are an unruly lot." He grinned. "Is the wing open?"

"No, let me get you a key. It's been some time since your last visit: trouble at work?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. Our customers are incredibly fussy at the best of times, and now they're getting more and more particular."

"That's the problem with premium products. I don't know why you don't just open a more general product. There's money in mass markets."

He reached out to take the key from her outstretched palm, pocketing it. "Maybe eventually. For now, our reputation demands that we produce everything by hand, from materials to the final craft. It's simply too expensive to invest in the proper technologies these days."

"I won't pretend to understand what you'd need, but I hope you can find what you're looking for. He's been expecting you."

Kiria knew that, of course, but feigned surprise nevertheless. "Really? I'd hardly think my presence worth his notice."

"He hates being cooped up, I think." Chief Kōrin sighed. "Of course, without you there's not much choice, but... we do what we can. The lab keeps him at least a little busy."

"Well, let's see if we can't give him something to chew on." Kiria nodded, inclining into a short tilt of a bow. "Shall we?"

She guided him as far as the third floor. Private hospitals were always just a little bit quieter than their government-funded siblings, but this one in particular felt more like a morgue in its silence. That's what they paid for, of course. "How's intake these days?" he asked.

They stopped at a door that opened onto an elevator lobby. Kiria pulled the key out as she responded. "We're such a specialist field that intake is always quite low. Of course, with such specialism comes expensive treatments, so you don't have to worry about us closing our doors any time soon. He's in good hands."

"Has he made any requests for equipment?"

"You'll be the first to know if he does, Master Yoshii. Will you be okay from here?"

"I will." Kiria smiled, turning the lock. "Until next time, Chief Kōrin."

She held the door open as he navigated the wheelchair, then headed back to her duties. Kiria locked the door behind him, pressed the elevator button, and waited.

Nothing he'd told her had been a lie. Years of toil and a few phials were the only progress they had to show for it. It wasn't the only avenue they were exploring, but as far as ultimate aims went, it was their most viable approach. That this angle relied on such manual methods, even now, frustrated the whole supply chain. As the doors trundled apart, Kiria checked his phone. The city trials had been a mixed bag, but the noise they'd made demanded radio silence. Only one message from his entire network, and it was news he was waiting to hear. Good.

I.: route's open in two weeks

Two weeks. More than enough time, he estimated. The doors trundled open, letting him into the elevator shaft. "Let's see what you've come up with this time."

"You want to learn about monster lore?"

Ikko nodded. Though his timetable no longer had G.T. on it, they'd managed to carve out a separate remedial lesson to allow his and Ruby's training sessions to continue. "Knowledge is power, to borrow the cliché. I think it'd be useful if I could know a bit more about common monster... things. Talking to them is one thing, and I'm doing that, but it's only going to take me so far."

Ruby pursed her lips. "We could go through that, but truth be told, Yukari's the expert, not me, and she's got her hands full watching for any Fairy Tale movements around Yokai."

"Are there any resources she'd recommend?"

"I can ask. It's not like there's comprehensive books on the subject. Monsters are secretive, and communities that document things like that keep them very closely guarded. I'm sure you understand why."

"Sure. I'd appreciate it if you could ask her."

"I will. Now, shall we get started?"

Ikko agreed, leaving his chair and pushing it into the ring of tables they always made when they set up the classroom for practise. "Now, I know the Headmaster said you were ready for more advanced spells, but I want to make sure you have the foundations down. Your barriers should be—must be—your first port of call in a fight. Do you know why?"

"Nothing's gonna save me from a split gut and broken bones." Ikko replied. "I can't afford to be too aggressive when I'm so physically fragile."

Ruby nodded. "Monsters like to think they're invincible, and for you they might as well be. If you ever find yourself in another fight like you did over summer, then survival must be your first priority. Everything else comes second."

"That's not unique to monsters, you know. Just look online."

"True, true. Okay. Just like we've practised."

He braced, reflexively conjuring his barriers. They came as readily as rolling up his sleeves now; pure muscle memory guided the magic into coalescing over his skin, creating a pale green shimmer. Ruby waited for his nod, and then commenced her own preparations. Six wings erupted from her back, flexing back as they did so. Each flick of her hands caused feathers to burst from the wings as they flapped, lancing towards Ikko for him to deflect. Once upon a time, she announced her intent before striking-now, with months of constant practise and guidance from not just her, but Tsukune and the other physical fighters of the group, she trusted Ikko to handle himself.

And handle himself he did. He parried each feather that shot his way, using the barriers on his arms like vambraces to deflect the blows. Each strike caused a tiny wobble in his mind, but never enough to properly break the spell. By the end of the full set, he had barely broken a sweat, and his breathing was only marginally more heavy.

Satisfied, Ruby retracted her wings. "How was that?" he asked.

"Brilliant. How do you feel?"

"Bit sweaty, but fine." He looked himself over, pinching his shirt to fan himself. "I could have kept going."

"I don't doubt that, but we need some of your magic ready to today's lesson." Ruby smiled. "It's all well and good showing off, but if you wasted your reserves, how can I teach you the new spells?"

"Fair point." He released his spells, and with them the last of the tension in his mind. His morning practise sessions were one thing, but being here, learning, expanding his skills, was where he truly wanted to be.

Ruby reached for one of the nearby tables and grabbed the top book in a stack of tomes. He didn't recognise them as the kind of books one would find in the Yokai library. They didn't resemble any kind of book he'd seen before. Each one looked hand-bound, the paper inside thick like parchment and extensively worn. "A witch's grimoire, next to their wand, is the most important thing to have when mastering spellcraft. No two witches are the same, and their grimoires will reflect that."

"Not even in families?"

"Some styles of spells might be passed down, but it's not in the blood. Every witch creates her own magical style through years of dedication and practise. That doesn't mean, however, that I can't teach you some of my spells, and that's where any novice witch will start."

"So it's on me to work on my own spells once I've got a feel for the process?"

"Precisely. I give you the tools, you bring the materials."

"Won't I need a wand for all this?"

Ruby's lips curled. "I'm glad you brought that up. So far, we've worked on direct manipulations of your magical energy. Spells are complex layers of that kind of manipulation, woven together to produce specific effects. Wands and grimoires are the only tools witches know of that can stabilise their magic long enough to make that happen. The answer, then, is yes. We're going to need to get you a wand."

"Yes!" Ikko pumped his fist, his excitement spilling over.

Ruby laughed, hugging her grimoire. "Easy, now. It's not as simple as going out to the store to buy one. We're going to need to make you both items. A wand and a grimoire to hold your spells, and this is where the first spell I'm going to teach you comes in. You ready?"

"A thousand times, yes." He beamed, and hurried over to her side.

Ruby opened up her grimoire and laid a palm on one of the pages. On it, Ikko saw her delicate handwriting crammed into every available space. "Can you tell me anything about this page?" she asked.

He concentrated, and swiftly realised that no matter how much he tried, the words would not leap from the grimoire's page to his mind. It was like they resisted being read. He could pick out symbols and words, and sometimes a phrase, but anything close to the full picture slid right out of his mind, like he was reading whilst distracted. "Is it enchanted?"

"Very good. Much like the masking spell I've prepared for you in the past, I've woven my magic into this paper so that it bends to my will. The only people who can read its contents are me, and anyone with whom I share explicit permission."

"Like sharing a password?"

"Similar, yes. This is going to be your project for the next two months, Ikko. Every ingredient that goes into making your tools must be touched by your magic. You're going to source them, work them, enchant them, and finally bind them into something you can call your own."

Two months... "Where am I going to find them?"

"That's what I'll be teaching you, along with some offensive manipulations that will help you get to grips with the art of spellcraft."

"Did you have to do this?"

"I did, yes." Ruby said. She retrieved her wand and held it out for him to examine. "It's okay, you can touch it."

He did so. Hers was less a wand and more a staff, complete with a curled head of finely carved wood that housed a gem at its core. What little weight it bore was well-balanced, and any hint of wear and tear had been perfectly cared for. Even without any expertise in spellcrafting, he could feel the power that keened inside. "You made this?"

"With some help. The witch who raised me taught me almost everything I know."

A twinge of sadness that did not belong with his excitement seeped in. Recognising the emotion as Ruby's, he did not press further. He handed the wand back, saying, "It's beautiful."

"Thank you."

"So... where do we start?"

Kaiyo awaited Ikko when he emerged from the empty classroom, in the distant halls where he and Mizore had, so long ago, started his induction into the world of monsters. He smiled as he came out, looking tired but none the worse for wear.

"I overhead the last of your lesson," she said, "What is it you're doing in there?"

"Self-defense." Not untrue. There was plenty of defending himself. "Being what I am has its disadvantages at Yokai. Ruby helps me cover them. Who do you have for G.T.?"

"Doctor Tsumugi."

"From the hospital?" he blurted.

"Yep. Apparently she can resist the worst of my abilities, so..."

"How was it?"

He couldn't read her expression through the surgical mask, but her tone suggested plenty. "Fine. We were just getting to know each other today. She didn't make me do anything beyond my normal guise work."

"Sounds like she knows what she's doing."

The final bell of the day tolled, signalling it was time to head towards club. Kaiyo had readily agreed to join the Writing Club at Ikko's recommendation, as it afforded her a quiet space to slowly get to know other students. As they walked, he found himself mapping out what the quietest route to the clubroom would be at this time of day.

"Ikko?"

"Hm?"

"How come you're so different?"

He faltered. "What d'you mean?"

"Back at our old school, you weren't... well. You weren't anything like you are. I can't remember a single time you talked to anyone of your own volition, even me. I always had to reach out to you first. But, now..."

His cheeks flushed and he folded his arms. "I wasn't that bad, was I?"

"You were." She deadpanned.

"Oh. Huh. Well, er..."

He stopped at the door as the thought consumed him. "I... I've learned, I guess. Not just about all of this, I mean." He gestured to Yokai's buildings. "But I learned that how I was, even if I hated the circumstances that got me there, was something I could control. I didn't have to be a sullen loner just because that was the easiest thing to be, y'know?"

"That's it?"

"...Yeah?" Ikko hummed. "I mean, I didn't learn it by myself. Everything I've learned at Yokai I've learned off the back of someone else. Kia, Etsuko, Su... even Naoko and Nori have shown me what life can be like if I just want it enough to do it. And it wasn't always pretty. I've made some pretty nasty mistakes, and things haven't always gone to plan, but I'm here because of them."

Kaiyo bowed her head. "I wish it were that simple."

He stamped on the impulse to assure her that it was. Instead, he scratched the back of his neck, searching for the right words. "I can't pretend to know what it's like. I wish I could, but I'm... well... I'm lucky enough that I don't have to worry about it. But I'll do whatever I can to help you find a place here, Kaiyo."

A tiny nod gave him the courage to continue. "Not just me, too. You've met Kia and Etsuko-the rest of the club are just as friendly. We'll all be here for you, okay?"

"Okay."

He smiled, pushing open the door. A pair of students passed through as he did so, chattering loudly.

Kaiyo flinched. The air froze over.

Their steps quickened, and their tone hushed. Ikko caught the nervous glances back as they hurried away from them, and scowled. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." She said, stiff. A few steadying breaths eased her grip on the atmosphere. "Sorry. Surprised me, that's all."

He nodded, but the lingering pall told him that wasn't the full story. He held out his arm for her to take and she accepted with a mumbled, "Thanks."

Pushing the strain of augmenting her guise to one side, Ikko forced a smile and continued on down the hall.

Rare was the student who had a club that started later than the finishing of school, or no club at all. This meant that Preternatural Street was a land of extremes; either it was completely packed or absolutely dead. The hour or so after school finished for the day was the only time it was not silent, but quiet, as students trickled in and settled into their evening routines.

This almost liminal quiet gave the right people, with the wrong inclinations, a rare opportunity to go about their business unnoticed. Too early and they would be spotted in the open; too late, and they would bump into the vigilant campus security. Here, beyond the scope of full attention, lay one of the tiny cracks in Yokai Academy's armour.

Normally, anyway. Yukari Sendo was here to cover that gap. Patrolling the streets, her enormous witch's hat bobbing with the motion and her cape fluttering in the wasteland wind, she made her otherwise diminutive presence as loud as possible, that students would pay attention and know they were being watched. A little bit of tomfoolery could slip by in the school year-there were never enough bodies to cover every square foot of the Academy's security at all hours-but with Fairy Tale now clawing its way back into the light, they could afford no chances.

Her noted patrolling served two purposes. First, to remind those students that might take advantage of the oversight that there were eyes on them. Second, it allowed her comrade to do her part without interruption. As her phone buzzed, Yukari felt relief that their stratagem was, for the moment, working.

"How goes it?"

Koko's voice crackled calmly over the airwaves. "Whole lot of nothing. Looks like we've caught them on a day off."

She sighed. "Such is our serendipitous lot. Alas, it does not help us with our current endeavour."

"That's... good, right?"

"For everyone at Yokai, yes." Yukari murmured, turning away from a gaggle of students who passed nearby. "Unfortunately it does very little for our intelligence efforts."

"What makes you so sure they'd target Yokai?"

"Koko." Yukari stated, simply.

"Right. How silly of me. How do you want to proceed?"

"'Tis only another half hour before the main throngs come from their clubs. I suppose we should-"

A pulling sensation gripped the corner of her mind. Her senses, ever tuned to the presence of magic, pricked.

"Should?" prompted Koko.

"Should... hold for one moment, please."

She put the call on hold and looked around with more than just eyes. Unfamiliar magic, here? The mere thought of magic she didn't recognise set her on edge. Yokai had rules against the practise of magic for those capable of doing it, imposing restrictions on its use in places where the situation could not be properly controlled. Preternatural Street lived at the very top of that list.

Concentrating, she pinpointed the source of the magic in an alley that split two shops down the middle. She took off at a brisk pace, cape sweeping behind her, and narrowed it down to a small group of three students, hunched together and joking quietly amongst themselves. Not one of them noticed her approach.

She cleared her throat. All three reacted very differently; one jumped, one shrieked, and the boy at the back of the group hastily stuffed an item into his back pockets.

The girl who shrieked quickly calmed when she took Yukari's youthful stature in, clearly mistaking her for a freshman. "Are you lost? First-years shouldn't be out here."

Yukari set her hands on her hips. "Unfortunately for you, a first-year I am not. Yukari Sendo, campus security."

"Wh-what?"

She puffed out her chest, showing the silver pin that matched the card in her wallet. "I'll see whatever it is you've got hidden there, young man."

"Huh? Me?" Fumbled the one clutching his back pocket. "I'm not hiding anything."

"Is that so? Then you'll have no qualms if I request that each of you turn out your pockets?"

He made to protest, but the arrival of Koko quickly silenced them. She landed quietly behind the group, announcing herself with a short, sharp. "Give it up."

"Shuzen?" exclaimed the girl, "For real?"

"God—fine. Here."

The young man dropped a tiny phial into Yukari's outstretched, expectant hand. She pinched it between thumb and forefinger and held it up to the light. Sure enough, she felt magic swirling in the liquid it contained. "Whence did you acquire this?"

"Made it over the summer." He grumbled. "It doesn't do anything, honest. Just a bit of cosmetic magic."

"Cosmetic how?"

"Show her."

The other boy, who had been silent up until now, pulled back a long fringe to reveal his eyes. They glowed light pink, the colour of hydrangea petals, and stood out in the dark.

"They're magic eyedrops," he continued, "Just a little trick, promise. Not hurting anyone."

Yukari frowned. "Trick or no, this kind of magic is expressly forbidden. If you wanted to create something like this, you should have spoken to your teachers."

"They would never have let us!" the girl protested.

"Yeah, I wonder why?" Koko rolled her eyes. "How stupid can you get?"

"Each of you should know better." Yukari finished, crossing her arms. "Koko will take your student IDs for recording, and I'll be confiscating this. You're to head straight back to your dorms. Understand?"

Thusly chastised, each of them submitted to Koko's search. Two more phials appeared from pockets and bags, each the same size and containing the same consistency of liquid. As they disappeared into the throngs now filling the high street, Yukari unstoppered one of the phials and let one drop of the liquid touch her finger. "Well?" asked Koko.

"It's as they claim..." she said, scrutinizing the liquid, "I can't detect anything beyond a simple colour-shifting spell, and even that's amateur work. If they intended to hide a secondary effect, I doubt they'd have the skill to do so."

"You believe them saying they made it over the break?"

"I do. It's quite the proud tradition for the magically-inclined at Yokai. Unfortunately, I'm now on the enforcing end of those policies, else I'd be very impressed."

"Ah, right." Koko exhaled. "I'd almost forgotten about your experiments."

"Come, now. It's not like you didn't benefit from my exploring."

"Yeah, yeah. Are we done?"

"We are." Yukari smiled, thanking Koko. She returned the gesture, forgetting her impatience. "I'll perform a more thorough study of the liquid when I'm back at my office, but you may return to your studies."

"May return to my studies," she scoffed, "You might have graduated, but I'm still older than you."

"One of us has an office to return to." Yukari crossed her arms. "I'd say that would trump however many years you have on me."

Rolling her eyes, Koko disappeared, leaving Yukari to examine the phials again. "What a waste of potential."