Lazula hardly recognized the girl in the mirror. Her hair, apparently, didn't have enough volume for the camera until they cooked it with a curling iron. They fit her for a low-cut, form-fitting dress that didn't cover much beside the essentials. She wasn't self conscious. The opposite, really. She could do without all the attention she knew it would bring. More makeup than she was used to, as well. She wanted desperately to rub the nagging itch in her eye, but she'd be taken more seriously if she didn't look like a raccoon.
The live feed on the Holoscreen floating next to her mirror showed Mari interviewing a so-called expert on Organic Androids. According to him, they were entirely safe. Lazula would have had a different answer, but that wasn't why she accepted the request from the show's host– the only one of eleven prior attempts she'd ever even opened.
A woman approached from behind with a palette of makeup and a pearly-white smile. "Eye shadow?" she asked. "If I may, I recommend a smoky grey to bring out your eyes."
Lazula waved her away with a quick "no." She regretted for a second the curtness of her response, but judging by the verbal onslaught being unleashed on some poor intern further in the back for switching cameras a second early, she was used to worse.
She pressed her Holoband back to her ear. "It's not too late to rethink this," Lilly's voice advised. "Of course, it's up to you. You just don't have the best record with the media. I don't want to see you do anything to hurt your reputation. You don't need that right now."
"I don't care about 'reputation,'" Lazula returned. "After everything that was kept from me, I only care about the truth. Even if the world hates me for it." She nodded at the red light that came on at the highest point of her mirror. "Besides, it is too late. My light's on."
The producer stopped her for a second at the curtain, to make enough time for an introduction.
"Thank you so much for coming on, Dr. Rubin! It sure is a relief to know my Frontline Biomedical Organds at home are completely safe. And how about a round of applause for Frontline too, for taking accountability and rolling out a security patch the night after the incident!" The curtains parted, and a man in thick-rimmed glasses with fading crimson hair swept behind his ears walked in. "And now, our guest of honor for today's episode! A controversial figure in the Academy League: twelve-time tournament champion and almost Vytal Tournament champion, the Academy League's 'Indomitable Girl,' Lazula Skye!"
Lazula stepped forward a second before the producer allowed, out of spite. She wouldn't give the audience or cameras the wave the producer suggested. Or even a glance. She made her way to the white armchair facing a doll of a woman in her mid-forties, though surgery and a layer of makeup hid about fifteen of those years. A mane of golden ringlets fell to each side of her perfect face. Crimson lips cracked a smile as Lazula slouched with an arm on each rest.
"And don't worry! We gave her a list of words she can't say on TV."
The leopard faunus beside the cameramen held up the sign to laugh, and the audience complied.
"Thanks for taking the time to sit and talk, Lazula." She laughed with her next words. "We all know how much you love interviews!"
Lazula remembered the script. "Yeah, thank you for having me."
"As one of the top athletes in the Academy League, you have quite the star power, and that's coming from me! You still manage to stay in Academy League talks, even though we haven't seen much from you since your unexpected loss at the Vytal Tournament." Her grin never left her face. "And why is that, exactly? Especially since you had such a presence before! Could it be that your sudden loss on the biggest stage shook you up a little bit?"
"Maybe. But I've been keeping up on training. And I've been busy with actual combat."
"Actual combat. What does that mean, 'actual combat?'"
"Grimm. Red Claw. You know, the stuff that's been all over the news."
"And I can imagine you've been right there in the middle of it all, right? There are a lot of people that weren't even born the last time the Grimm were a threat. I know you weren't. I was around, but I won't tell how old I was!" She paused to allow the audience's prescribed laughter. "But I'm sure a lot of people out there wonder what it's like to be up against them. Do you have anything you can tell us? Any stories, maybe?"
"Well it's nothing like a tournament, that's for sure," Lazula responded. "I have a shield, a sword, and aura, up against something fifteen feet tall and a few thousand pounds that only exists to kill. There's this feeling at the back of your mind the whole time that if you slip up, you die. Painfully." She traced her thumb on the edge of the chair. "I'm not usually worried about myself. But I never know if it'll be the time I watch one of my friends die. Or my brother."
Mari's grin faded for the first time, as though a single cloud in blue sky passed over the Sun. "Wow. And have you seen death? Have you watched someone die?"
"Yes."
"Have you ever killed anyone yourself?"
Lazula paused. Mari Golden had all the tact and sensitivity of a child– one that had yet to grasp basic social etiquette. The audience buzzed as she pondered the attack in June, the dozens of androids from two weeks prior, the four hundred and sixty inside of her.
"No. No, I haven't."
"That's admirable. Especially up against the Red Claw. But are you sure all these fights against the Grimm, and the Red Claw, aren't affecting you in some way?" she pried. She leaned in, glowing smile returning. "Because I've heard a couple of stories about some recent erratic behavior. For example, a few students of Sentinel Academy recounted an altercation between you and your own dear brother at practice a couple of weeks ago. Can you tell us a little bit about that?"
Lazula's jaw clenched. She'd come to tell the truth, but it was harder surrounded by an audience. And a flock of cameras. The stage lights roasted her skin from above. "It wasn't an 'altercation,' just an argument. Happens between siblings all the time, and we've talked about it since."
"Got it. My brothers and I used to get scrappy sometimes, I get it!" Mari returned. Her eyes never matched her painted smile. "But some who saw the incident said you looked a bit 'unstable.' Their words, not mine! And you left practice right after. What was that about?"
"And after I left, I killed a Creature of Grimm that brought down ten androids. Alone. Is anyone talking about that?"
Mari laughed and looked out at the audience. "Well, there's the personality we all expected from her!" she goaded. Her eyes turned to the side. "Do we have the clip ready?"
"What clip?"
A Holoscreen extended behind the pair onstage. She didn't have to ask what it was. Moka's fist neared the girl in the recording, and she shoved her shield forth to block the blow. It met Moka's fist and a wave of energy burst forth, flinging the camera out of its owner's hand. Screams were shrill over the deep bass of energy shredding the air. When it went quiet, they called out Moka's name. Whoever recorded it picked up their camera, and in the final frame of the video Lazula stared at her victim.
Two cameramen perched at their stations, twisting the zoom ring as they honed in on Lazula's face.
"This clip has been making the rounds online, and in it we can see you assaulting another member of Sentinel's Sparring Team. Pretty violently, too. We hear she had a concussion, and a few cuts from broken glass?" Mari prodded. "Can you tell us a little bit about this? Was there more going on behind the scenes? More than a friendly little bout?"
"No, there's… there's nothing going on. No drama, at least," Lazula said. She swallowed, and looked into one of the cameras. She didn't come to the interview out of some sudden desire to speak to the media. Or because she cared at all aout Mari Golden, her talkshow's ratings, or her stupid, obvious stage name. There was one reason, and she had yet to address it. "But I actually came on today to say something about myself. People have come up with all kinds of rumors on why I'm so strong. Why I can do… that." She pointed at the screen.
"Ooh, are we getting a big reveal today?" Mari interrupted. "Come on, let's hear how excited you are!" she worked the audience for a few excruciating seconds, and returned to her interview. "Alright, so what's your secret?"
"I have the souls of four hundred and sixty people inside of me."
Mari's exaggerated, bug-eyed gasp goaded the audience into doing the same. She wondered if anyone had even heard what she'd said, or iff they all just followed suit, hoping their reaction was overstated enough to make it to television. She wondered for a second if she had made the right choice.
"So, do you think this has anything to do with your undefeated streak? I mean, it has to, right? Most people only have one soul!"
"Yeah. They make my aura stronger than the average person. And they make me stronger, too." Lazula scanned the audience. And back to Mari. "I would appreciate it if you at least pretended to take this seriously. All of you. Those four hundred and sixty people were murdered. And whenever I think of what they went through, and the fact that thirty years later they're still trapped inside of me, it makes me want to puke."
"Alright, alright," Mari nodded along. Lazula, again, wondered if she actually heard her. "Well, what do you think this means for your future in tournaments? Do you think any will let you compete anymore? There were rumors of you using PEDs, but this is something else entirely!"
"Yeah. If they don't think I've gone insane, I imagine a lot of people won't take this news well." She shook her head. "I didn't know about it until recently, but I get why people would be angry."
"Does this mean you might be stepping away from the Academy League?"
"No. No, not at all," Lazula pledged. "I'm still coming back. I'm competing in the Pyrrha Nikos Tournament when it comes to Vale. And I fully intend to win."
Finals week passed as usual– late nights at Slate Library, last minute cram sessions, and sleepless nights, though Caspian managed more rest than most of his friends. He passed the weapon upgrade comfortably, even after toning his ballistic dagger down a notch. The rest of his grades hovered in the nineties. A couple were lower than he expected, but good enough. And for the first time, Moka passed all of her classes. The day their grades returned was the happiest Caspian had ever seen someone to get a 72%, and he was pretty sure her hug popped a couple of his ribs out of place.
Douglas Hudson's car slowed to a stop in the drop off zone of a high-rise downtown, and fell silent. Caspian, Rowan, and Ichigo left from the backseat. Snow, in the passenger seat, unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to the driver with a smile. "See you later, dad. Love you."
"Love you, too. I'll be back to pick you up around nine. Have fun!"
With a nod, Snow left the car. Caspian greeted Moka as the rest of their group, minus Lazula, exited the second car. Rowan turned back around to the door before he closed it, leaning into the black sedan.
"Wait. Before you go, I gotta ask you something," he said.
"Sure. Go ahead," Douglas allowed.
"So… there's this girl I kind of like. And I just want to know how I go about talking to her without messing things up."
"Rowan…" Douglas pondered. "I should tell you straight. If this is about Laurel, you should let it go. My relationship with Holly, finally getting through to her after she rejected me over and over, that's an exception. Not the rule. I was young, and still a little dumb, and I didn't know any better. But when a woman says 'no,' it's a no. Not 'try again later."
"It's not Laurel," Rowan responded, his eyes flicking out the window to the faunus that laughed at something Lilly said. "That's… that's not a thing anymore."
"Oh. Well, if it's someone else, just be yourself. I know you've heard that a million times before, but it's true. If you like her, you want her to like you, not someone you're only pretending to be." His stubble crackled beneath his palm. And don't put too much weight on anything happening. Don't force it. Just be a friend, and if she seems interested, and more comes of it, good for you."
"Mm-hm," Rowan reflected. "I think I can do that. Thanks, man."
The car's engine rumbled awake, and Douglas cocked his hand beside his cheek as he looked at Rowan through the rearview mirror. "Of course. Good luck to you."
Caspian arrived at Rowan's side. "Is it Noriko?"
"...How did you know?"
"You have a type."
Rowan opened his mouth, but gave up on a protest. "Fair enough. You got me."
The group filled their own elevator on their way up to the 45th floor. The penthouse restaurant of mahogany walls and gold trim was dimly lit, to better allow for the view of the bay out of massive arched windows. Each surface– floor bar, and tabletops, caught the orange lights from above and neon from outside in swaths upon their sleek black surface. As the suited-up host guided them to the long table right next to the window, Moka leaned in.
"Hey, am I under-dressed? This place is super nice."
He glanced at her outfit; brown plaid pleated skirt with boots to match, black tights, and a white turtleneck. Probably all from a thrift store, and he'd be surprised if her entire outfit cost near what a dish at their restaurant of choice would. But she did wear it well. Very well. His words came before he could give a second thought to stopping them. "No. I think you look nice."
Moka bumped him playfully with her shoulder and smirked. "Thanks."
Soon enough the waiter greeted the group, served drinks, and brought out seven menus– the kind with cursive words on thick parchment, prices nowhere to be found. Once choices were made and the table was cleared, Caspian raised his pineapple-orange mocktail. "I propose a toast, to send off this semester and celebrate being done with finals!" he announced.
"Good riddance!" Rowan joined in.
"No kidding," Caspian returned. "I wish my drink was the real thing at this point."
"And here's to Caspian!" Moka added, the cream in her cold brewed coffee swirling with the sudden movement. "For getting me out of academic probation. Ya girl passed all her classes!"
More cups raised. Laurel was the last to join in, with a resigned smile and a glance at all the noses turned up their way. As she returned to her seat she caught the eyes of the middle-aged woman in a pea coat that looked at her tattoo of a serrated dagger with disdain. She nodded, and chuckled to herself when the woman's gaze turned away.
"Anyway, Lazula's not coming?" Laurel asked Lilly.
"No, she was adamant about doing that interview tonight," Lilly returned. "Honestly, I tried to discourage her. But, well, you know her too."
"I'm guessing she already made her decision? And she wasn't planning on changing her mind?"
"You win." Lilly thanked the waiter as he brought over the basket of bread, and plate of oil and vinegar. Rowan started tearing into the loaf before it reached the table. "And, I get it. I just hope she doesn't say anything, or do anything to make people upset at her."
As the meals came and they began to dig into the 'highest quality ingredients in Vale,' they remained the loudest table in the restaurant, due mostly to Moka and Rowan. But Caspian paid blissfully little attention to the glances and sneers their way. He was enjoying himself far too much. In the middle of a laugh he shared in response to Lilly's account of a particularly strange attempt at advances on her, Caspian noticed Moka's Holoband light up. Her laughter faded early, and her tail flicked behind her seat.
"Hello?" she answered, holding a hand over her other ear. Then, with hesitation, "Yeah, this is her."
Another pause. And within it, most of the eyes at the table fell to her.
"Thank you for letting me know. I'll come right away," she pledged. In a rush, she collected wallet and keys from the table next to her half-finished meal.
"Is everything okay?" Caspian asked aside to her, keeping his voice barely above the restaurant's passive murmur.
Her eyes had already gone heavy with moisture, and she could barely breathe out her answer.
"My mom is in a coma."