Author's Note: I'm alive! So sorry for the delay. I hope you can forgive me.

I make no promises about the gap, as life has its way of... well, being life. I received some very warm messages and I was glad to read them; thank you all for enjoying TPf. I hope you'll continue to enjoy it.

Back to it!

Ikko woke to warmth. He shifted, aware now of the silken weight pressing down upon him. A duvet. He sniffed, smelling the distinct herbal afterscent of Ruby's masking spell. "My room…?"

Waking proper erased all doubt. He recognised the patterns in the ceiling paint, the hum of his console left on standby, though he'd never seen his room lit so early in Yokai's miserably daylight before. Ikko swallowed, throat dry. His attempt to move from the bed stymied by a foreign weight at the edge, holding down the covers on one side. He turned to face the obstruction, seeing a horrifyingly familiar waterfall of icicle-blue hair.

"Mizore…"

The call of her name broke Mizore from her trance. She jolted upright, stiffening, before a small inhale and a calming sigh prepared her next words. "You have a lot of questions to answer, Ikko."

He made his confusion clear, trying again to sit up. Her weight made it impossible to move from his current prison, given that the other side of the bed faced the wall. "Why am I here?"

"I carried you."

"You what?"

"You heard me." Mizore didn't look at him. She stared straight ahead, chin perched on crossed thumbs, lips against linked fingers. Her focussed stance muffled her words somewhat, but he did not mistake their weight. "Do you know where I found you?"

As if anchored there, Ikko's mind jumped back to the cold shock that first awoke him in Kia's room. He closed his eyes in an attempt to remember but found only dark and murk. No panic swelled to greet the revelation. He answered quietly. "No…"

"I found you collapsed on my way up to Kia's room. It's a miracle you didn't fall down the stairs."

"Oh." Ikko mumbled, hollow.

"What were you doing up there?"

Ikko furrowed his brow, concentrating. Murk cleared, becoming memory once more. He remembered Kia's eyes. He remembered what she did, and that explained his distinct lack of reaction to finding Mizore in his room. "I went to see her."

"I told you to wait until after class."

"Yeah, but…" Ikko wrestled and wrenched himself into a sitting position; Mizore finally relented, lifting so he could move properly. "This was important."

"More important than school?"

"A little bit. Where is she?"

"Kia? She's with the headmaster." Another dull thud of a revelation. Ikko felt no urgency, no desperation, no rising dread. Such feelings passed him by as if they were mere beasts in a field, curiosities to drive past without remark.

"Oh."

"You're lucky to be alive."

"That's not new."

"I'm serious."

"So am I," replied he, flat, "Kotsubo, Masumi – this isn't new. He said it best; I could well forfeit my life, studying here."

Mizore's fingers curled. She took another breath, trembling with restraint. "Do you understand what she's done to you?"

Using his detached vantage, Ikko could see the leading question for what it was, even as she dressed it up with concern. He answered carefully, realising that any clumsy answer might indict his best friend. "My friend didn't do anything to me."

"Don't – Ikko." Mizore's fists balled. She looked down, strangling disbelief with a single chuckle. "Don't lie."

"I'm not lying."

"You are!"

"I'm not." He insisted. "My friend didn't do anything to me."

"I had Ruby look you over before she joined the headmaster," said she, "You'll heal, but this isn't a broken bone or a few pints of blood. This is your soul we're talking about – so I'll ask you again."

She finally turned to face him, swinging around and drawing her legs up to sit cross-legged at the foot of the mattress. Ikko's eyes sharpened, focussing. Had she always looked so tired? So drained? Her eyes sunk, dragged down by heavy purple bags. Hair split and stuck at odd angles, ill-tended. He remembered her beauty, her eccentricity, but now saw only her weariness. Had it always been there, waiting for Kia's feeding to tear away such tinted lenses?

Mizore asked him again, with a quiet threat in her voice. "What did Kia do to you?"

Ikko swallowed. He matched her gaze, the gaunt student staring defiantly at exhausted teacher. He chose his next words as carefully as he could. "Nothing. Nothing I didn't consent to."

Mizore's shoulders slumped. "You- you knew this was going to happen."

He leaned as heavily as he could on this temporary hollowness, that so drained his inability to mask a lie. "I did. Kia explained, and I saw her distress. I wanted to help her…"

"Ikko…" She trailed off. "Ikko, this is serious. Did you knowingly let this happen?"

"I did."

"How could you be so reckless!?" The explosion caught him off guard. Mizore's pitched, cracked. "After everything we talked about – everything you've been through – this is what you choose to do? What if you'd died?"

"I…" Cold logic revealed no answer. A muted shame began to bubble, rising from a bog in his breast, but at least the lie was sold, and Kia spared. He hoped. "I don't know."

"Of course you don't! This-" Mizore went on, struggling to catch her breath. "This isn't a game, Ikko. You can't just throw your lot in with us and assume everything'll be fine! How am I supposed to look out for you if you're throwing yourself into danger at every opportunity? It's like you're not even trying to survive!"

"Why do you care so much?" Ikko asked. "It's not like you asked to protect me. You did everything you could to try and stop me staying."

Mizore's expression slackened. Ikko wondered, numbly, if he would have made such an accusation were he not so hollow inside. It seemed a perfectly reasonable thing to ask. He watched her composure return, taking the shape of a frown. "It's my job to protect you," she answered, coolly, "And more than that, as your teacher – as your friend – do you have any idea how I felt when I found you? How long is it going to be before I find you, and you don't wake up again?"

That sparked something in him. Ikko's breath caught. He understood, for a moment, and that caused him to curl in on himself, tugging the sheets up. "I'm sorry."

"Now it starts to sink in," Mizore sighed.

Ikko said nothing. He looked uselessly to her, to the bedsheets, back to to her. Mizore didn't meet his eye, her expression partly masked by the icicles of her hair. "You're an awful liar, Ikko," she whispered, "I thought you were better than this? I thought you trusted me?"

"I do," said he, "But… Kia- she didn't mean to. It wasn't her fault."

"What she meant to do doesn't matter," Mizore exhaled, "Wanting to defend her is admirable, Ikko. It is – and I get it – but you can't ignore what she did to you. Do you understand that, at least?"

She fixed him with a simple, direct stare. Ikko's silence gave her all the answers she needed. Mizore shook her head. "If I'd known she was a Notable…"

"A what?"

"A Notable," Mizore repeated, "One of the species of monster Yokai keeps on record for their unique dietary requirements. Specifically-" she pointed at him, "Those whose requirements pose a mortal threat to other students."

Ikko watched Mizore, "How come you didn't know?"

"I don't know – I'll be finding out the moment the headmaster's free. Teachers should have a list of every Notable in their class!"

Her rage sparked another reaction – Ikko began to feel his emotions with greater clarity, though they still seemed miles away, difficult to grasp, like straining to reach from one side of a table to another. He cast about the room, trying to find something to latch onto as she calmed. "Whatever she is, Ikko, she took a chunk out of your soul. That's not coming back any time soon – not like blood will. Ruby reckons you'll be like this for a month, maybe two. God only knows what that looks like…"

He ran those words through his head – twice, maybe three times. Out of his soul? He wondered if that were indeed possible, but for all he knew of the monster world so far, he could only take Mizore at her word. She certainly believed so, and behaved as such. "What happens now?"

"Now?" Mizore tipped her head back, staring at the ceiling. "We wait. Couldn't take you to the hospital in your state – there wasn't anything they could do, anyway. The headmaster will send word once he's spoken with Kia."

"What happens to her?"

Mizore didn't answer immediately. Only when Ikko pressed the question by asking again did she make a vague shrug. "I don't know. Yokai's no stranger to Notables acting up. The species on the list are rare enough that we don't see one every year, but it happens…"

"Was there one when you were at school?" he continued.

"There were…" Mizore counted on her fingers, "Three? Four? Maybe more. Four that I knew."

"That many?"

"It was a weird three years," Mizore admitted, "One family of vampires, all sisters – and him, too."

"Him?"

A knock at the door ended their conversation. Ikko snapped to attention. "It's Ruby," announced the voice, "The headmaster will see you now, Ikko."

He and Mizore exchanged a look, but said nothing. They left in silence, Ikko's head swimming with thoughts – but the concern, he noted, seemed faint and distant. Logic and experience told him he should be more frantic than this, but it just didn't seem to come with the urgency he expected.

It hit him. He understood, finally, what Mizore meant by a chunk of his soul. He thought that these things, his emotions, the core of what made Ikko Ikko, to be gone – but no. He experienced them as if they were happening to someone else, his detached perspective no better than that of someone reading a book, or playing a game. He understood them, reckoned their impact, but the intensity and effect were simply… gone.

Reflexively, he clutched at his chest, squeezing as if his insides were suddenly gaseous, and he had to do his utmost to keep them tight to his breast.

The headmaster's office hadn't changed in the scant months since Ikko's last visit. They entered at his prompting, Ikko once again drawn to the ornate cross adorning the headmaster's plaque.

Ikko saw only the headmaster. Kia wasn't there, nor Ruby. He and Mizore walked together until they were feet from the desk, where two carved, high-backed chairs awaited them. Mizore sat first.

"You seem to have a knack for this," said the headmaster, smile ever-present. His tone gave Ikko the distinct impression of amusement, "A knack that transcends the most ardent efforts of your protectors, to their apparent frustration."

Ikko looked at Mizore. She sat, arms folded, icy eyes glued to the headmaster. "Tayama has explained her side of the story," said he, peering at them from just under the lip of his hood, "You snuck into the girls' dormitory during school hours, found Tayama's room, and found her there desperately starved. You may as well have brought a platter."

"How was he to know she was a Notable?" Mizore interjected, "Even I wasn't made aware."

The headmaster raised his hand. "Do you have aught to say on the matter, Akada?"

The defences he'd thrown so readily at Mizore seemed feeble under the weight of the headmaster's stare. "No, sir," he mumbled, shaking his head as his gaze fell hopelessly to the carpet.

"The damage done is not irreparable. Tayama's father advised the school of her dietary troubles, and despite arrangements she seems determined to deny that she requires that which her blood demands," the headmaster sighed, "The folly of youth. Her recklessness – and yours, Akada, make no mistake – very nearly cost you a fate worse than death. Twice, now, you have been saved by the miracle of Tayama's good nature, and her fondness for you. I would call it luck, but… given the consequences…"

"Consequences?" Ikko looked up from his feet.

"A third incident of this severity is unconsciable, especially given Kotsubo's outburst prior – not that it was anyone's fault but Kotsubo's, Miss Shirayuki. Do calm yourself."

Mizore had leaned forward, mouth opening in protest. She clenched her jaw and fell back. The headmaster continued, as if he had never been interrupted, "Tayama's father has been alerted. As we speak he is en route to collect Tayama and take her home for Golden Week, to impress upon her the importance of her body's requirements. It will be her decision to return to Yokai, should she wish – and if we are satisfied with the progress she has made."

Ikko nodded. "Can I see her?" he asked, "Before she goes."

"No." The word rang out with its finality. The hollowness in Ikko's chest tightened. "Tayama does not wish to see you. No doubt she is ashamed of the damage she's caused, and does not wish to face the victim. I suggested she speak with you, but… alas."

The headmaster opened his arms, smile slipping from one corner as if to say 'What can one do?'. Ikko nodded his understanding, now folding his arms like Mizore. "Miss Shirayuki," said the headmaster, "Please accept my apologies. The… surprise of Akada's arrival delayed my notifications regarding the Notable in your class. You should have been made aware far sooner."

Mizore nodded, curt. "Akada," the headmaster turned to Ikko as quickly as he had left him, "Ruby will be along to administer what little treatment we can offer such a unique form of magical damage. You will be confined your dormitory until Golden Week, at which time you may join your peers who elect to remain – under the supervision of one of your guardians. Clear?"

"Okay," Ikko mumbled.

The headmaster tipped his head. "What was that?"

Ikko looked up. He faced the still-smiling monk and, suppressing as much of the chill from his voice as he could, grunted. "Yes, sir."

It seemed Kia had left the harsher emotions behind.

"Good," the headmaster closed, looking to the papers on his desk, "Miss Shirayuki, escort Akada back to his room. I doubt it needs repeating, but not a word of this to the other students. We don't want them getting the wrong idea about Akada's… enervated condition."

Mizore looked to Ikko, saw his fists clenched and his eyes downcast once more. She pursed her lips, feeling that the apology she received rang emptier and emptier with every passing second. "Sir," she whispered, standing. She placed a hand on Ikko's shoulder, leading him away.