Author's Note: Two in a week! So far so good. It's taken me a bit to get back into the swing; I nearly forgot where I was in the story (not touching it for a year will do that). Luckily, I found my old character notes. Make sure you write the important stuff down!

Without further ado- enjoy!

As the headmaster suggested, Ruby indeed waited for Ikko at his dormitory. She waited outside, arms folded, consternation scrunching her brow. She chewed her thumbnail, stopping when she heard the pair of footsteps. "How did it go?"

Ikko was grateful this was the only question he'd be facing. As school continued, oblivious to the troubles, they encountered no students upon their return to the dormitory. "About as well as expected," Mizore sighed, "He apologised for not notifying me sooner, for all the good it does."

Ruby made a strange noise, not quite understanding, but almost sympathetic. Ikko looked up at her. "He's confined to dorm until Golden Week," said Mizore, patting him on the shoulder, "I'll drop off any homework you miss. For now – I'd best get back."

She turned to leave, the abruptness causing Ikko to turn and watch her go. Ruby cleared her throat, smiling slightly. "How're you feeling?"

"That's the problem, isn't it?" he asked, "That I'm not."

"Yes, well…" Ruby huffed through her nose. "Come on. In you get."

He unlocked the door. A cold draught from the open window caught him first. He hastened to close it. "I'll be treating you daily," Ruby announced to his back, "Not that there's much to be done except wait, but there are some things we can do to encourage the soul to heal."

"The headmaster said I'd escaped a fate worse than death," Ikko began, "What did he mean by that?"

Ruby shifted, grasping an arm with her hand. "Souls are… delicate things, but not really required where life is concerned. A body can continue living without a soul. It'll eat, sleep, repeat – but it's base instinct. Nothing more. Everything that makes up who you are would be gone."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," Ruby nodded, "You hear about it sometimes. There's different words for it. Zombie is one of the more popular. Certain species of monster can… corrode the soul, or override it. It's not quite the same, but the effect, on the surface, looks very similar."

Ikko frowned. "And Yokai just… lets those monsters in? Why?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Ruby replied, arching a brow, "If anything, those are the monsters that would benefit most from our training. Learning to coexist whilst causing as little harm as possible to their fellows – it keeps us all safe. Not everyone feels the same. Some think we're better off without their kind – or worse, that they should be free to do as they please." As she spoke, Ruby cleared a small space on Ikko's desk, unravelling her gloves and setting them gently down. She turned back to him with a resolute stare. "Regardless – they have as much right to be here as anyone. Don't forget that, Ikko."

"They have more right to be here than me," Ikko murmured, "It's a school for them, after all."

His matter-of-fact tone didn't faze Ruby. She didn't respond, though, instead splaying her fingers and changing the subject. "Open your shirt, please."

Doing so, Ikko asked, "What are you going to do?"

"There's nothing in the way of particular spells that'll fix damage like this. Magic can't fix magic."

"Not even healing spells?"

Ruby chuckled. "Do you see a wound?"

He shook his head. Ruby placed her palms flat against Ikko's chest. Her skin was warm to the touch, smelling of soft earth after the rain. "The only thing to be done is to replenish what was taken, and stimulate your soul towards recovery. Think of it as spiritual self-care."

"You mean meditation?"

Another laugh. "Yes, after a fashion. I'm going to give you an infusion of emotional energy. Not at lost, just… enough. It should give your soul enough of a kick to start healing more properly."

Ikko nodded. A faint glow began to pulse between them, an ember-like warmth leeching from her hands into his flesh. It spread through his chest, then snaked down his arms, into his fingertips. He noticed how close how close Ruby stood, how her warm breath came slowly, steadily, concentrating deeply on the task at hand. He flushed. "Uh… Ruby."

"Hm?" She whispered, distracted, eyes closed.

"You're, uh…" His body stiffened, but he daren't interrupt her by pulling away. "How close do you need to be for this?"

The corner of her dark lips twitched up. She opened her eyes and pulled away. "Contact helps – but you're sounding more like yourself. I'd call that a success, wouldn't you?"

Ikko very much doubted that he would call anything like that a success, but smiled awkwardly. Ruby replaced her gloves. "I'm going to lock the door behind you. You're allowed to use the kitchen, but either Mizore or I will be outside until Golden Week. Understand?"

Ikko opened his mouth, but swiftly closed it. He nodded, strangling the question that began to form. He redressed and took a seat as Ruby left, staring at the blank TV screen.

Kia's complaints about his spending too much time on his games echoed softly in his mind. He had wanted to ask whether he was allowed visitors, but given that she was the only one who had ever come knocking, doubted very much that it would be worth asking.

He picked up his controller, switching it on.

Mizore's head settled on her desk, the pages of her textbook warm, but the words uninviting. She could not shake the headmaster's damnable smile, the same one that accompanied every explanation, every excuse, every apology. She did not doubt that this had been some machination gone horribly awry – experience told her to know better than to take any of his words at face value.

She checked her phone for the time. In a few hours, Ruby would text to alert her to a change in shifts, and she would pack up the educational textbook and mope in the corridor, waiting quietly for the hours to pass. Then it would be back here to sleep, perhaps for an hour or so, before the morning bell rang and it was back to classes.

She thumbed the bridge of her nose, pinching ever so slightly. Ikko's penchant for trouble rivalled the only other human she knew, but she couldn't hate him for it. In his own clumsy way, he had tried to defend Kia, his only friend. She could remember Tsukune doing much the same for her, once upon a time.

Her phone buzzed before she could slip down that particular rabbit hole. Yukari's name flashed on the notification.

'Will you be joining us for Golden Week?'

Mizore unlocked her phone and read the message in full. The witch had attached a photo from the previous year. A photo of smiling faces and full glasses, of an evening well-spent – and a far happier ghost lingering in the very corner of the photo.

She scowled, but didn't respond immediately. She thought through her answer, typing slowly.

'Not anymore. Something came up with a transfer, and I have my exams. Sorry'

Send. She locked her phone and set it face down, looking back determinedly to her textbook as if it would make the excuse slightly more believable. It wasn't untrue, but it didn't stop regret from coiling around her stomach. Mizore ran her palms up her face, using the tips of her fingers to push her eyes open.

Either Yokai made things difficult or fate did, and she wanted to believe that the phenomenon was localized at least to the campus. She could spend less syllables cursing, that way – and sound a little less dramatic to boot. "Stupid school," she intoned.

After a few more fruitless attempts to start her revision afresh, Mizore's phone buzzed again. She snatched it up and answered.

"It's Ruby," hummed the voice on the other side, "Ready?"

"Be there in a sec," she sighed, "Just gonna pack some things. How is he?"

"Fine," Ruby sounded like she shrugged, "Playing his games. Maybe he's fallen asleep, I don't know. He took to the treatment well enough."

"Mm," Mizore stuffed her textbook in her bag, "Good. If he can learn from this, so much the better."

"Did he?"

"Did who?" She wished she hadn't asked, cutting Ruby off at the second syllable. "No, he didn't. Is that supposed to exonerate him?"

"I suppose not." Ruby trailed off. Mizore paused, mid-pack, noticing that Ruby wasn't hanging up.

"…What?" she asked, wary.

"What? Nothing," the witch replied quickly, "Just, uh… you wanna talk about anything?"

Mizore closed her eyes. "Yukari spoke to you."

"Only a quick text! I just thought-"

"Ruby…" Mizore groaned. "Not now. Please. Not now, just… let me get through tonight."

She let the silence linger for a moment – just a moment – before whispering over Ruby's muted sigh. "I'll see you in a sec."

"Alright."

Mizore stowed her phone in her jeans pocket and looked around the room. She checked her bag for her revision materials, the indignance of having been made to study for her qualifications and baby a human transfer boiling over into a muttered curse. She spied her controller on the desk, and the console on standby nearby.

She chewed her lip.

Ikko didn't hear Mizore arrive until his door clicked shut. He caught her in his peripheral vision and popped out his earphones. "Miss Shirayuki?"

Mizore leaned on his door, shoulders slumped, the tangle of her hair casting her pale, pupilless eyes into shadow. She clutched a small, patched rucksack in tightly curled fists, pale knuckled stark even against alabaster skin. "Uh… Miss?" he prompted, leaning back in his chair.

"We're back to Miss, are we?" she whispered.

"I figured…" A lump glutted his throat. Ikko swallowed. "After today. I messed up real bad, so…"

He didn't understand. Watching her, Ikko wondered if he ever would understand the inscrutable chaos of Mizore's personality. "We can, um… not be back to Miss, if you'd like," he paused for a breath, "Mizore?"

Her fingers eased, and she unglued herself from the door to shuffle into the room. "How're you feeling?"

"Should I be asking you that?" Ikko replied, looking up at her.

Her lips curled in too pale an imitation to be called a smile. "No. No, you shouldn't – but you shouldn't be here," she nodded to him, "I shouldn't be here. He shouldn't have hired me…"

She dropped her bag. It landed with a thump and a muffled clatter as two things jostled together. His eyes darted briefly down to it, then shot back up to Mizore. He daren't speak, lest he cause whatever awful train Mizore rode to crash, but the need to do something compelled a half-strangled, half-gurgled, "Uh…" to bubble forth. He cleared his throat, masking it behind a cough.

Mizore looked up from her knees, eyes wide, expression otherwise blank, making her almost crazed in the harsh light of the dorm room. "Teaching's hard," she stated.

"I don't doubt it," Ikko murmured, "Though it'd be easier if, uh… if I wasn't around. Is that what you're saying?"

"Maybe," she breathed in, let loose a long, careworn sigh. "Maybe. God knows what I was thinking, accepting the headmaster's invitation. I should have known something like – something like…"

"Something like me?"

"Something like you, yes!" Mizore's voice pitched upwards. "Not that it's your fault – you got snared just as much as I did."

Their eyes met. For the madness of it, and for lack of anything valuable to contribute to what he guessed was her frustration at the headmaster, Ikko laughed. "He is a bit weird, isn't he?"

"A bit?" Mizore flung her hands up. "A bit! He's got to be crazy. Got to be. Dragging in a human so soon after… And then sticking them with me."

She rolled her eyes, scoffed. Ikko relaxed, preferring this to her frantic, stifled madness. "At least we're stuck in this together," he offered, trying another smile, "I thought, uh, maybe I wouldn't have anyone, now that Kia- now that Tayama's, y'know. Now that her dad's…" He trailed off. A tightness in his chest gripped him. "But you're here, and we said we'd figure this out. Somehow."

"We did," Mizore nodded. She took another, longer breath, pushing back her hair, then unzipped her bag. She stared into its contents, which remained hidden from view. Ikko looked at her, not wanting to seem to obvious in his curiosity.

She came to some decision unknown to him, for Mizore muttered, "Screw it," and looked once more his way, "I have a favour to ask."

"What? Me?"

"Yes." Her eyes shifted. Ikko caught the reflection of his TV screen in them – in particular, the pause screen. "I've been up to my ears in paperwork and revision and… you."

"Right…"

"So I'm taking a break. And you're going to help."

"You – what?"

Mizore reached into her bag, pulling out a controller like his, but blue. It matched her hair. "It's co-op, right?" she asked, nodding to the screen.

"You want to play?"

Her gaze seemed to plead. Ikko furrowed his brow. "I've never really played co-op before."

"I'll 'forget' to pass you that homework you're going to miss." Mizore offered.

"Deal," Ikko answered, before he could stop himself. They exchanged a glance, then broke simultaneously into laughter. Mizore held out her hand to shake, and they sealed the deal with childish grins.

It took a moment to sort their setup up. Mizore synced her controller and sat cross-legged on Ikko's bed, extracting a lollipop from her bag and sucking thoughtfully on it. "I haven't played in ages," she mumbled.

Ikko, half-way through pulling his chair back to grant her a better view of the screen turned to answer. "Why-uh."

He looked determinedly at the screen. She wore a skirt, and in her excitement hadn't noticed how it had hitched up as she made herself comfortable. "Why-uh?" Mizore parroted.

"Why not?"

"Studying. Work. It's amazing, how life seems to chew up your time when you get past school."

"Huh…" Ikko returned to the main menu, and they started a fresh campaign. "You played this before?"

"I think I played the first one?" Mizore shrugged. "Not for ages, if I have. I usually prefer," she yawned, "Prefer RPGs…"

"Oh?"

"Mm."

They played in silence through the first handful of missions. Ikko marvelled – despite her apparent lack of expertise, Mizore played very well. Either that, or his envisioned level of skill stood decidedly lower than he hoped. His room filled with the quiet ambience of low-volume gunfire and clacking of buttons.

"You play a lot." Mizore observed.

Ikko nodded. "Yeah. Good to pass the time."

"Good way to waste it," she breathed a laugh, "The number of times Mom scolded me for holing up when I should have been out looking for a job…"

"You live with her?"

"Only between graduating and this. Yokai's got my room and board covered whilst I teach, so I'm free to look for a place in the meanwhile. Commuting's not a problem when you have a bus like Yokai's at your disposal."

"What?"

"You didn't realise? That bus can go anywhere there's a tunnel. Like that," between swapping guns, Mizore clicked her fingers. "Hey, watch-"

He didn't see what she warned him about, for Ikko turned to stare agog at Mizore. "No."

"Yes." She looked back, explaining, "I don't live anywhere near you, and we made the trip from mine to Yokai in about… twenty minutes?"

"Really?" Ikko marvelled. A magic bus – what else could this world possibly hide? He decided not to ask. "Where is it you live, then?"

"Oh – away," Mizore answered, vague, "Some monster communities enjoy magical protection from the human world, like Yokai. Mine's a bit like that."

"So you live away from humans?"

"Sort of." She tilted her head, making a corrective wince. "There's a settlement of humans not too far from the village, but they keep their distance we keep ours, for the most part."

Mizore gained a momentarily distant look, as if pulled away. They both died, drawn back to the game by the game over sound. "Whoops." Mizore said, smacking her lips as she withdrew her lollipop. She took the chance to set her controller down and stretch.

Ikko flushed. She was by no means unattractive, and the infusion of Ruby's emotions seemed to excite his own. "Shall we try again?" He offered, feebly.

"Sure."

He hit continue, but before they made any meaningful headway Mizore spoke up again. "Ikko – you're a good person."

"What?" He looked back – his eyes darting once more to the TV when he realised she still hadn't uncrossed her legs. "Where'd that come from?"

She spoke quietly, through a whisper of a sigh that gave him good reason to suspect there was more behind her need to game than simple frustration at her workload. "You're only human, but you stuck your neck out like that for Tayama – I don't know. It was a good thing, you did, even if it was stupid."

"Thanks…?"

"And this." She nodded to the screen. "I needed this. It's been a hell of a handful, y'know. Kotsubo, this…"

She fixed him with a soft look, the kind that drew the eyes even when one knew better than to look properly. Ikko felt his cheeks heat. "Can you promise me that you'll at least try not to end up in mortal peril after Golden Week?"

"So it's okay before and during?"

She laughed, hair shaking, eyes closing with mirth. "Just… try. Please?"

"It's not like I want to," Ikko sighed, "But yes, Mis- Mizore. I promise I'll try."

"Good."

Another game over noise broke his gaze. His cheeks still burning, Ikko cleared his throat. "Once more?"

"Once more."