#so now the poor guy saw me in my habit and veil and we talked abt the recent homework until we got to my floor but like

[badolmen]

Had a semi-awkward elevator ride this morning 12 dead 34 injured.

[jadelotusflower]

Robin Hood Rewatch: 1x08 Tattoo, What Tattoo?

aka Robin wants to do a war crime.

It’s been a while, but I’m back on my rewatch. This is actually one of my favourite episodes of the whole show, so get comfortable, this is a long one. Also, I welcome comments/discussion on any of these posts - I’m always up to talk Robin Hood!

Flashback time! 1191. Now, we’ve had the current date set as 1192 by earlier episodes and this is the story of How Robin Got His Scar - assuming that he must have spent some time convalescing before returning to England, he can’t have been back more than a year at the absolute most.

There’s no point talking about historical accuracy on this show - my approach is that any story ostensibly taking place in our history is that it’s an alternate universe, and this is an easy way to ignore when things don’t square with real events.

Robin fights with a broadsword in this scene, not his scimitar, and we never find out how/why he got the latter.

For plot reasons, Robin neatly slashes through Guy’s tattoo instead of cutting off his arm.

Okay, Richard’s birthday was 8 September. The attempted hanging in the first episode was 26 April, so it’s been less than five months? Actually, I think this works fine.

In an earlier episode I lamented that we never saw the bright green shirt again, but I was wrong, Robin’s wearing it under his hoodie and it had very frayed hems. I do think the show does a pretty good job of using costumes for the gang that actually look like they live in a forest and show significant wear and tear.

This is one of my favourite Marian’s costumes - it’s beautiful!

I never noticed before, but after Guy announces the engagement, Edward takes Marian’s hand and it’s very sweet.

The possessive way Guy holds up Marian’s hand to show off the ring is...yikes. And don’t the guests sound enthused!

Nobody ever brings up that it was Robin ignoring the signal because he just had to stick it to Guy and take the ring is the reason Djaq is captured, and they really should have. That said, I do like him being cheeky and kissing Marian’s hand before depriving her of the ring.

Guy could very easily have freed the dagger holding his sleeve with his other hand - but he wanted Robin to know it was he that almost killed him in the Holy Land. Just like Robin could have easily escaped, but instead waited for Guy in the forest - this confrontation has been brewing all season - so let’s get into it.

Guy starts with saying that the King has enemies because he wants peace, and “there will never be peace with the Turk.” So we assume that his motivations are with the warmongers - to scupper the peace talks with Saladin so the Crusade continues and Jerusalem is conquered. Which...doesn’t really make sense with what we know of Guy, that he would care about claiming the Holy Land, and this stance is actually contradicted later. It makes more sense that they would want to keep Richard in the Holy Land so Prince John can usurp his power while he’s away, and Guy can maintain his position. I think we can assume that is the case, and Guy is just deflecting/pushing Robin’s buttons with the war talk.

And of course, the confrontation is only ostensibly about Guy’s treason, secondly about dick swinging over Marian. Guy gets kicked in the face (for the second time this season!) and only stops his throat getting slit by the timely arrival of the gang.

Djaq is cool, calm and collected the entire episode, despite no doubt being reminded of her time in slavery.

“That’s what you taught us.” Robin told the gang all about the articles of the Geneva Convention, but like many a self-righteous superpower, thinks they doesn’t apply to him if a breach is “necessary.”

I jest, but Robin actually does stay his hand initially and listen to the gang. He does knock Guy out, but I don’t think we can hold that against him. Concussion Count: Guy (Total: Robin x 1, Guy x 1)

It’s kind of understandable that the gang are skeptical of Robin’s claims it was Guy who tried to kill the King - it can’t have gone unnoticed that Robin has war-related trauma, and just that morning a nightmare of that very event. It would seem convenient indeed that he suddenly claims he remembers Guy as the assassin, right after the engagement to Marian was announced.

I’ve said this before, but I really think it’s a strength of the show that it is prepared to Go There with Robin as a deeply flawed protagonist. Because the gang is 100% right, and he is 100% wrong - Djaq’s life should take precedence, and he is in no state of mind to be making life and death decisions. 

Concussion Count: Guy and Robin (Total: Robin x 2, Guy x 2)

Confrontation Round 2 - ding ding!

Robin is straight up manipulative of Much to get himself untied and it hurts to see - there’s a real power differential to their relationship that Robin takes advantage of. Much knows more than anyone else how damaged Robin was by the war, he knows there’s this other, brutal, side of him that can triggered (”earlier...you were not yourself”), but he still loves his friend, he wants to believe in his promises, and he’s spent his life following Robin’s instructions and those habits die hard. He does try to do the right thing - he talks in a soothing voice (”you’ve had an upset” is so Soft), tries to get Robin to sit down and talk it through, but he is too far gone.

“I will kill you whether you talk or not.” Guy doesn’t believe him, and throws his earlier words back (“show me an argument ever settled with bloodshed”) but Robin is deep in his cold rage and when Much tries to intercede we get the heartbreaking “that is because you are also simple” which really, really hurts. Now, obviously we can explain Robin’s behaviour as a trauma response/ptsd episode, but not excuse it, because it really is a cruel thing to say, targeted to hurt Much the most and push him away, and all the “I did not mean it”s in the world doesn’t change that. It’s a disturbing pattern; that Robin will say something cruel in anger or frustration, then immediately take it back and say he didn’t mean it - but the thing is, a part of him did mean it, must mean it, because he said it - it may be a dark fleeting thought, those unkind things we all think sometimes, but Robin gives voice to them and causes hurt, and that can’t be undone.

Again, I give credit that this is a show that doesn’t always cast its hero in the best light - he does screw up, he does say the wrong thing, he does make poor decisions despite his good heart. Robin is such an interesting, complicated character - heroic but with another side to him, a capacity for cruelty and violence that most of the time he keeps in check, but every now and then he can’t stop it rising to the surface, can’t keep that dark side of himself contained, but can only try to push it back with regret.

He then shifts from trying to kill Guy to trying to torture him, and obviously it’s all very thinly veiled social commentary, but this was 2006, and as I’ve said in a previous post social commentary is why we retell stories like this.

As I said above, Guy contradicts his earlier reasoning with “what kind of king deserts his people to fight someone else’s war in a foreign land?” but I think this is more the fear talking, with that red-hot sword close to his face, trying to appeal to Robin’s kinder/protective nature. To which we get another yikes line from Robin - “if you were his people he was right to desert them.” I don’t think Robin believes this, he’s deflecting Guy’s very good point to try and justify torturing him.

But in the end, he can’t justify it, at least not without making it a fair fight. And it’s a good fight! Well acted and choreographed, visceral and emotionally intense - they way they get progressively sweatier and dirtier and more exhausted, the way the music shifts from the jaunty theme to silence to those haunting strings - one of the best sequences of the show, imo.

Guy continues to throw out arguments that I don’t think he holds himself, but rather what he thinks will appeal to Robin - “it’s not England’s war, it’s Rome’s” was the exact point Robin made in the first episode (”Is it our Holy War? Or is it Pope Gregory’s?”). When Robin rightly points out that Guy’s assassination attempt broke the ceasefire, and Guy responds that “there will always be war”  and he wants a King that will fights for England’s gain, not the Pope’s. That, I think, is close to his true motivation.

We get confirmation that religious conviction is why Robin went on crusade, but that it was meeting those of other faiths and realising the Holy Land should be shared, not conquered, that turned his heart. This seems to be the primary cause of Robin’s trauma - that he fought in an unjust war, made under false pretenses, and that he was not a warrior for God, but a murderer. While Much is obviously also scarred from the war, I think he handles it better partly because it wasn’t his decision to go, he was just following Robin, and he didn’t have his faith and understanding of the world shattered like Robin did. Also, he’s selfless, he’s a caretaker, so I think he buries his own trauma deeper and it doesn’t bubble to the surface as much as Robin’s does but comes out in sadness rather than anger.

UTTER EXHAUSTION.

Guy’s taunts become more pointed - calling out Robin’s glory seeking and loss of status, then turn to Marian, and it seems his obsession with her (other than being The Only Noblewoman in Nottingham) is in part to have everything Robin once did  - his lands, his title, and the woman to whom he was betrothed - especially taking into account the backstory of season 3. It’s rather gross the way he speaks of Marian (“do you think I won’t laugh every time...”) although I suppose you could argue that it was a targeted attack on Robin and not how he actually feels.

It’s interesting that at this point, Guy accepts that Marian is sympathetic to Robin and still has contact with her - he’s not entirely clueless.

Concussion Count: Guy (Total: Robin x 2, Guy x 3)

The scene between Robin and Marian is also very good - he does throw her “everything is a choice” back at her somewhat petulantly, but it shows that he listened to her, and took what she said to heart. Marian, like the gang, assumes the accusation against Guy is about her engagement, and they have two tense conversations at once (”you took his ring/you took his ring” is rather deft).

I feel for Marian here, because she’s in a bad situation forced into marriage with Guy, and it would be made so much worse if he’d done what Robin says. She’s trying to make the best of it.

Everyone’s reaction to “I like her/I think I love her” is priceless, and I will defer to this commentary on this excellent post. Also a shoutout to @angel-in-a-big-blue-box’s tags #I also love how marian's stepping back like 'I don't understand. Y'all just voice your feelings like that? #You don't passive-aggressively snark at each other?’ SO TRUE - neither can fathom actually being this direct - Robin snarks that “everything is a choice” about running off into the forest, when he means “choose me” but can’t say it.

Concussion Count: Robin  (Total: Robin x 3, Guy x 3). Both of them about to develop CTE at this rate.

I’ve said it before, but for all his faults, Robin admits when he’s wrong.

Will’s awkward little “Djaq” and Allan’s grin and nod is so cute.

I would have liked a longer conversation between Robin and Djaq tbh, her “and you gave him up for me?” is perhaps a trifle too magnanimous of her, but it’s a nice little coda with the gang all sitting down together and forgiving Robin.

[isidar-mithrim]

Beyond the Veil

[Also on Ao3]

“No fewer than four Stunners had shot from the figures around the cabin toward Professor McGonagall. Halfway between cabin and castle the red beams col- lided with her. For a moment she looked luminous, illuminated by an eerie red glow, then was lifted right off her feet, landed hard on her back, and moved no more.” [Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix]

What if Minerva, in a coma at St.Mungo, had the chance to choose between staying or coming back – between living and dying – as Harry did in King’s Cross? ___________________________________

Minerva opened her eyes.

The sun was high above her head, but oddly enough she could look at it without being blinded by the dazzling light.

She was lying on a cold, flat surface, like a stone pavement of some sort. Determined to look around, she sat up cautiously, expecting to feel sore, but her body reacted smoothly at the command.

Only when she stretched her arms in front of her she realised what she was wearing. It had been ages since the last time she had put on her Gryffindor Quidditch uniform, and she couldn’t hold back a smile remembering her past as Chaser. Oh, how she had missed those youthful days...

Eventually, after what could have been a moment or an hour or a day, she lifted her gaze from her robes and looked around her.

Despite the sky above her head, she was in a closed space. Massive stone walls surrounded her from afar, delineating a huge hall that rang familiar, but had a surreal vibe in it. The colors were dimmed and the outlines shadowy, like immersed in some sort of cloudy mist – like made of some sort of cloudy mist – and Minerva went to check if her lenses were clean, only to realise she wasn’t wearing her reading glasses.

She stood up to explore the place, and after a couple of steps she saw that the hall hosted four long tables – yet, she could swear they weren’t there an instant ago.

Red gold banners were hanging from the walls, and Minerva was squinting her eyes to figure out the animal woven on them when she heard a wheezing in the air.

She turned on the spot and saw the Quaffle right in time to seize it.

“Nice catch, professor!” exclaimed the familiar voice of a young boy with messy black hair. He was smirking at her, and that smirk...

Was he...? But no, no, that wasn’t possible... He must have been...

“Harry?”

The boy chuckled.

“He looks like me, doesn’t he? But he has Lily’s eyes,” the boy said with a warm smile, his hazelnut eyes sparkling with fondness.

Minerva hadn’t seen that gaze in almost fifteen years, but she had missed it dearly.

“James…” she whispered, bewildered.

“In the flesh! At least I think so,” he chuckled.

“Is this... is this a dream?”

“Something like that, yeah. Nice decor, by the way,” he said with a wink, gesturing at the walls.

Finally, Minerva recognized the griffins on the banners, and she finally understood where she was – or seemed to be. In hindsight, she had probably known since the beginning, but for some inexplicable reasons she hadn’t grabbed the concept until then.

“Why are we at Hogwarts?” she asked, still looking around. The tables seemed more defined now, more real.

“How am I supposed to know?” said James, amused. “It’s your dream, professor. Not that I mind the choice, though… I kinda missed it here, you know?”

She thought Hogwarts had missed him as well, but she didn’t voice the sentiment, afraid of getting too emotional.

James was walking around, now, and Minerva let her gaze wander again, spotting an old, worn hat upon a three-legged stool. How many eleven years olds  she had let sit on it...

“We are here because Hogwarts is my home,” she whispered in understanding.

James nodded, his warm smile not leaving his lips. “I woke up at home too, when I died.”

Minerva winced, dreadful realisation coming to her. So, that was what had happened... that was the reason she was there. Those Stunning spells had killed her.

Well, her father would have been thrilled to know that even witches deserved a spot in Heaven, or whatever that was – it didn’t seem like Hell, at least.

“Shouldn’t the drapes be black in mourning, since I’m gone?” she joked.

It was a lame attempt, she knew that – she had just found she was dead, in her defence – but she still hadn’t expected James’ eyes widening in horror.

“Oh, Godric, no, no, I’m so sorry, you haven’t died yet, professor!” he clarified hastily, clutching her shoulders as to better convey the message.

She was astonished for an instant, before breathing a long sigh of relief. It took her another long second to grasp the full meaning of his words.

“Not yet?”

“Well...” mumbled James, running a hand through his messy hair – for heaven’s sake, she had forgotten that annoying habit of his. Even if they were discussing her own death, she couldn’t help smiling at the gesture.

“You can still choose to go back. Truly back.”

There was a soft, melancholic longing in his words, and Minerva didn’t need much time to guess why. “Are you saying that... you couldn’t choose?”

James sighed deeply, his features serious for the first time. “I got a different offer... One not as appealing.”

Minerva wasn’t sure she understood what he meant, and probably that showed on her face.

“They gave me the chance every wizard gets: becoming a ghost,” explained James with a shrug. “I wasn’t interested.”

Minerva wondered how hard it must have been for such a young, vibrant boy to turn out eternity.

“Why?” she asked.

“I thought it was better to wait few years to be forever with the people I love, rather than watch them live and die only to spend an eternity without them. And... I wanted to be there to welcome Lily and Harry, if… if they couldn’t flee.”

Minerva felt a lump swelling in her throat, sadly aware that eventually Lily had to die too, to let Harry live.

“But why are we talking about me!” exclaimed James with forced cheerfulness, diverting her mind from those angst thoughts. “This is your moment, professor. Your choice.”

He was staring at her with intensity, and she felt oddly exposed under his gaze. It should have been a simple pick, she knew that, but it was so peaceful there, so beautifully calm...

She took a deep breath. “What would you do, in my place?”

“I’d go back.”

He had spoken without hesitation, and Minerva was taken aback by his conviction. “You’d leave Lily?”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Yeah... I would. For the same reason you’re going to, if I know you well. Our kids.”

Of course, she realised. Even if Lily was there, Harry was not. Lily herself would have wanted James to go back to their son. That made sense for James, but she couldn’t see how it applied to her as well.

“I don’t have kids,” she said, even if James certainly knew.

“Are you sure?” he retorted, gesturing at the long tables with a knowing smile.

Minerva brought a hand to her heart when she saw the benches crowded with faceless teens wearing their Hogwarts uniform. The lovely scent of the feast treats and the joyful noise of the students rose in the air, filling her nostrils and hears, and warming her heart. Minerva hadn’t even realised of how unusually quite the Great Hall had been until then.

“I’m sure they still need their Transfiguration teacher, don’t you think?”

At those words, Minerva began recognising the happy features of her students.

She instinctively knew they would disappear if she got too close, so she watched them from afar, walking back and forth along the spot usually occupied by the teachers’ table.

They all sat randomly mixed together: the youngest with the oldest, fathers with sons, present students with past ones, alive and dead, Gryffindors and Slytherins. They all looked like teens, even those that by now had kids at Hogwarts of their own.

“That’s me!” grinned James, pointing at his other self. “And that beauty beside me... is she Ginny Weasley?” he asked uncertain, and Minerva smiled fondly when she recognised the girl.

“No, that’s Molly Prewett, her mother.”

James stilled, and Minerva could see his eyes getting misty. “And what a wonderful mother she is.”

Minerva laid a hand on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “The best one Harry could have hoped for,” she murmured against the lump in her throat. “Beside her own, of course.”

James rub two fingers on his eyes, pushing his glasses upwards, and to give him a moment to recollect Minerva resumed looking at the students. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Cedric Diggory setting with his father Amos.

This time it was James to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Minerva realised she had been staring at them for too long. She took a deep breath and let her gaze wander to another table, and a moment later her eyes fell upon a lighting shaped scar.

“Look at that boy,” she said to James with amusement, pointing at Harry. “I bet you can recognise him.”

“Well, he does have something familiar, now that you point that out,” joked James, but she could see his eyes gleaming. “Never seen those hideous hair before, though,” he added with a smirk, and she chuckled despite herself.

Her smile suddenly faded when she saw the guy in front of him.

“Regulus Black,” she murmured, shaking her head. “Poor, silly boy... I always wondered if I could have done more...”

James took a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess we all wondered. But at the end, he made his own choices, as everybody else.”

“He was just a kid...”

“We all were,” said James. “They all are,” he added, his gaze fixed on Harry.

She looked at the two boys again, and she noticed that they were sitting alone, now. To her surprise, they were chatting animatedly, but despite the renewed quite in the hall, they were too far to be heard.

“I wonder what they’re talking about…”

“I bet they’re saying that Seeking is the best thing in the world, but as incredibly skilled Chasers we both know that’s only a mere illusion,” said James with a smirk.

Minerva smiled. “Well, I’m afraid I must agree. Harry’s still a better flyer than you, though,” she teased fondly.

“No way!” exclaimed James, comically widening his eyes and mouth in pretended shock. “He’s only got a better broom!”

“Sure, if that’s what you want to believe,” she played along, knowing perfectly well how proud James must have been for his son talent.

“For the record, Sirius has never bought me a broom, the tosser. Nor you/, for that matter,” he added with a fake pout, and Minerva felt slightly embarrassed. Of course James hadn’t missed that she had personally paid for that Nimbus, probably breaking several unwritten Hogwarts ethical rules in the process – not that Albus had minded.

She would do it again in a heart beat, anyway, and according to James amused expression, he was perfectly aware.

“Well, what can I say?” she shrugged. “It would have been a pity to waste all that talent on a school broom.”

“Indeed,” nodded James. He was apparently serious, but she could see his lips twitching, and finally he let go the pretense and grinned. “I’m sure that had nothing to do with Harry being the son of your favorite and most talented student ever.”

“Lily was indeed exceptional,” she said, trying to keep her expression stern as well – and failing spectacularly.

“Oh, please. We both know she is too rubbish at Quidditch to be your favorite. And she clearly isn’t the most talented, or should I remind you that I was younger than you when I became an Animagus? And I didn’t even need Dumbledore holding my hand to do it,” teased James. “Pretty sure that seals the deal.”

She shook her head in amusement, recalling her stunned shock the day Albus told her what the so called ‘Marauders’ had illegally accomplished. Looking at James smugness, though, a way older memory popped in her head.

“I can’t believe I’m saying it, but –”

“Merlin, are you really about to admit I was your favorite student? All those years trying to make you say it, and strict logic plus a near-death experience was all you needed?”

“Oh, no, that’s nowhere near enough,” she smiled. “I was simply admitting that becoming an Animagus at fifteen without a proper guidance is a rather impressive achievement, after all.” She almost added that she had no idea how they managed to teach Peter Pettigrew as well, but she cut her tongue right in time. “I will also admit I was quite upset when you so flippantly refused my offer to help you becoming an Animagus yourself. I believe you said something as Unlike you, professor, I don’t need a tacky pretext to show myself off in my birthday suit during random Transfiguration lessons. But if that what’s work for you, who am I to judge?”

James laughed with mirth, clearly delighted. “Godric, that’s pretty accurate, you know? I had to make sure you weren’t going to pressure on the matter ever again. Worth all the night of detention, if you ask me.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” she said with a fond smile. “So, would have you accepted my offer, if you hadn’t learnt it already?”

“Of course I would have! I’d never refuse such an interesting learning experience offered by my favorite teacher. See, not that hard to say,” he winked, and Minerva shook her head in amused disbelief. Oh, she had really forgotten what this boy could do to her…

She was about to admit that he was indeed the most talented Transfiguration student she had ever taught when the sky turned darker, the sun setting on the West.

James put his hand on her shoulder yet again. “I guess it’s time to make your choice, professor,” he said kindly.

“I guess it is,” she agreed. “So, how is this going to work?”

“You just have to choose, I think.”

“You think?”

“It’s my first time doing this welcoming thing! And nobody bothered to told me the technicalities, for the record; the good news is, I’m definitely smart enough to figure it out,” he winked.

But this time his mirth didn’t reach her. It had been lovely staying here with James, and the time spent together wasn’t nearly long enough, but she finally knew what she had to do, and that meant she had to say goodbye.

She looked at him with sadness, and she gasped when he hugged her tightly, almost lifting her from the floor.

He let her go too soon, and fixed his gaze on hers.

“Harry is a fine young man, isn’t he?” he asked with longing.

“The finest.”

“And you’ll take care of him, right?”

“I’ve always had, James.”

“I kno –”

“Merlin, I bet this is one of those scenes you can only see as dead,” said a wry voice in the distance.

Minerva and James turned towards it to find a young boy of breath-taking beauty looking at them in amusement.

“You know, I didn’t expect the world beyond the Veil to look like Hogwarts,” he said matter-of-factly. “And I definitely didn’t expect you to be there, professor. Killer outfit, by the way,” he added with a wink, and she felt her eyes watering.

“Padfoot…” whispered James, his voice cracking with grief.

“I did expect a warmer welcome, though,” he playfully scolded James. “And there’s no need to look so gloomy, you’d think somebody died.”

Sirius was the only one to find the joke amusing.

“What happened?” asked Minerva with a lump in her throat.

“I could ask the same about you, professor.”

“She’s not here to stay,” said James.

“Well, I am. A courtesy of my dearest cousin.”

Sirius was grinning, but Minerva felt her chest heavy, suddenly aware that she had another tough goodbye to attend, now. She wished she could switch places, but she was sure it didn’t work like that.

“Anyway, esteemed professor,” added Sirius with pompous humor, bowing slightly at her, “it’s rather obvious I happened across your missed demise, and I humbly beg forgiveness for the inconvenient intrusion.”

A tiny smile finally twitched her lips. “Forgiveness granted,” she conceded with a nod.

“But since I’m here,” said Sirius, “it would be an honor to run with you one last time.”

A second later he turned in a huge, black dog, who barked playfully and wagged his tail. Minerva understood, and soon beside the dog appeared a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes. It was dark, now, and their pupils gleamed brightly into the night.

When a majestic stag joined them, they moved forward between the central tables, the stone under their paws and hoofs turning in damp grass, the walls of the castle fading away like mist.

On the distance stood the Whomping Willow, its branches motionless, its leaves gently blowing in the wind. The dog barked cheerfully and raced towards it, urging the others to join him, and while the cat was supposed to be the slower and the stag the faster, somehow they all kept running side by side, and nobody was left behind.

When they got close to the Willow, the branches began fidgeting fiercely, but the tabby leapt easily among them and pushed the knot at the base of the trunk.

The tree went still, and stag and dog lied down near the cat, who brushed their fur with her paw and glanced at them one last time, before vanishing in the secret passage.

***

“Can you squeeze my hand, professor?”

Minerva somehow sensed that remote request and made an effort to oblige it, managing to clench her fingers with fair strength.

“Good, very good! Now, can you try opening your eyes for me?” asked the feminine voice.

Minerva painfully lifted her eyelids, and then blinked a few times before adjusting to the light. She was in an aseptic hospital room, and against the white walls and furniture the bright spot of color of a Quaffle easily caught her gaze. Minerva recalled holding one at the beginning of her odd dream, but she couldn’t remember ever dropping it.

“A gift from Gwenog Jones, professor,” said the Healer with a warm smile. Minerva was almost moved when she recognised her as a former Ravenclaw student. “And a lot of people sent you flowers, but since a patient was strangled by a Devil’s Snare few months ago we have to send them back. Hospital policy, I’m afraid, but we put the notes in your drawer.”

Minerva nodded politely, but she really couldn’t care about the flowers, nor the notes.

“Can I hold it?” she asked, looking longingly at the ball. Any other day she would have been thrilled to receive a gift from her favorite team’s captain – another former student of her – but all Minerva could think about right now was that James Potter had given her that Quaffle.  

*

Minerva had been conscious for less than an hour when a silver phoenix appeared in her room and Dumbledore’s voice filled the air, to rejoice for her awakening and update her on the last developments.

Only at the end he announced the terrible news of Sirius’s death.

Only then she finally realised it wasn’t just a dream.

***

The dog and the stag ran and played in the grass until exhaustion, the full moon lightening their steps. Eventually, they collapsed under the usual beech near the shores of the Black Lake, turning in their human forms.

They stayed silent for a while, catching their breath and enjoying the chill of the night.

Sirius was the first to break the quiet.

“I’m a shitty godfather,” he blurted out.

“Harry adores you” said James softly, nonplussed.

Sirius took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the ground. “How wrong it is that I’m happy to see you, rather than miserable because I can’t be at his side?”

James shook his head. “It’s ok, Padfoot. I missed you too.”

Sirius was silent for a while, before gathering the courage to speak again. “I’m sorry I made you doubt Moony,” he whispered.

“I know.”

“If I hadn’t suggested the exchange…”

“Voldemort wouldn’t have fallen, and the war wouldn’t have ended. Who knows how many innocents would have died because of it.”

They got quite again, and their gaze wandered to the stars.

“Sirius is particularly bright, tonight,” said James, pointing at it.

Sirius snorted.

“Ow!” exclaimed James, playfully shoving him in the shoulder. “Why are you laughing at me, you sod? Have a bit of respect for the older dead!”

“Sirius is particularly bright, tonight,” mimicked Sirius with a high-pitched tone. “Did you kill time taking lessons from the centaurs?”

“I tried, but they sadly refused my entry in the herd. I had to be content with snogging Lily.”

Sirius laughed out loud. “Too bad, eh?”

“Yeah, what a shame,” grinned James. “I bet the centaurs were too envy of my stunning legs to accept me, anyway. They’re quite sensitive, you know?”

“It’s their loss, mate.”

“I guess they also felt threatened by my stunning antlers.”

“Speaking of antlers – or lack thereof – where’s Lily?”

“She’ll be here soon.”

“How soon? I’m kinda offended that she hasn’t shown up yet, if you ask me.”

“You got Minnie, though.”

“She has wrinkles.”

“Well, she hadn’t this afternoon.”

“But she does. And don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject. Where’s Lily?”

“I told you, she’ll come.”

“Not if you’re not shagging her,” smirked Sirius. “Or did she dump you for a centaur?”

“I thought we’d already settled that having antlers is definitely cooler?”

“Maybe. Now, where is she?”

James sighed. “She went looking for someone.”

“You really want to make this hard, don’t you?”

James raised his hands, defeated. “Ok, ok, I’ll tell you… but only if you promise you’ll listen to everything he’s got to say.”

“It’s a he, then. Any other clue?”

“Padfoot,” scolded James.

Sirius looked at him with suspicious, but he nodded eventually. “Yeah, ok, whatever. I promise. Now, who is it?”

James smiled enigmatically. “Regulus is particularly bright too.”

[askbensolo]

So, Ben, how's your grades going? Are they good? Can you keep up with the subject at your school? And what about friends? Are you guys having fun? Are they any students who bullied you? Talk to me/us

Luke’s school isn’t run like a traditional school. There aren’t any grades; there’s no particular curriculum or standardized measures of development. It’s really not a school at all…it’s training. We all just call it “Jedi school” as kind of a nickname.

But if you’re asking how I’m doing…I’m doing all right.

During my individual lesson with Luke, we went over what I suppose is the very basics of Jedi training. We sat down and closed our eyes and “felt the Force”…or something.

At first, nothing was happening. It wasn’t an hour before I was sick of it already, and couldn’t wait for individual lesson to be over. But then Luke told me, very sternly, that he wasn’t going to end my lesson until I had actually given one hundred percent.

“Now listen, Ben; I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re my nephew,” he said, his usual gentleness stripped away to reveal strictness underneath. “Let me put it simply: if you’re not going to try, you’re not worth my time.”

Nothing spurs me on like telling me I’m not worth anything. I abandoned my half-baked attempts and gave my uncle the effort he wanted.

And what happened was…weird, to be honest. I felt like I was floating up outside of myself…vibrating inside every atom in the galaxy…pulsing through water and air and fire and earth. It was like transcending time and space, traveling both higher and deeper…and as I drifted, I found myself gravitating toward something.

I think I know what it was. The heart of it all…the push and the pull…balance…only the balance was just a thin veil over the real essence—the violent, turbulent, just-on-the-brink-of-explosion, never-ending conflict between light and dark, just as Leader had told me.

I found myself drawn to it like a moth to the flame. Through layers of ethereal mist, I saw myself reaching out to touch that humming fireball; the beating heart; the very center of the Force—but before I could, I felt myself knocked to the ground and there was Luke standing over me.

“First I can’t get you to go; now I can’t get you to stop,” he said, crouching down with a dry smile. But even through the flat humor that he and my mother shared, I could see that whatever had happened had concerned him. “Wow, Ben, what did you do?”

I almost started to cry. I thought I was in trouble.

“I…I don’t know. It just… I couldn’t control it. I’m sorry, Uncle Luke, I…”

His look softened, and he reached out to clasp my hands in his. His fingers pressed gently on mine, and I could feel the faint click-click-click as his mechanical hand tightened.

“Shh. It’s okay. I’d expect something like that to happen… You’re a little older than I would have liked you to be, for your first time doing this. But don’t worry about it. This is why you’re in training.”

“Did you feel something like I did, the first time you reached out to the Force?” I asked, my voice still trembling with adrenaline.

Luke paused.

“…No. Not quite like that. But everyone’s different, Ben. I wouldn’t worry about it too much, if I were you.” He smiled then, with my mom’s smile, and I began to feel a little better.

As for friends, I haven’t made any quite yet, but then it’s only the third day I’ve been here. I’m still working on trying to learn everyone’s names.

At first I thought I would try to avoid everyone, and not make eye contact, and never talk, but it turns out that’s a bad way to do things. Out in the real world, nobody babies you. If you avoid people and act shy, they don’t go “aww that poor kid needs friends let’s be nice to him,” they go “huh that guy doesn’t want to be around anyone; fine I won’t try to interact with him.” So the last couple of days everyone has just been ignoring me, and it’s been making me really sad and I maybe cried to my mom about it and I’ve decided being invisible isn’t fun anymore.

But I did have my apprenticeship today. I’m together with Kiran, who’s like twelve, and we’re being apprenticed by Char, who’s like fifteen. So they’re both a lot younger than me, but I suppose we get along okay.

Still, though…young teenage boys are incredibly annoying (I should know; I used to be one) and it is…quite trying to be around them sometimes. I certainly don’t intend for them to become my primary friends.

Ah. Have I been bullied. Not necessarily, but I can offer you a list of hurtful statements I’ve overheard thus far.

“No wonder his name’s Solo” (about me and my bad habit of isolation)

“He doesn’t look like his parents” (some girl who, like every other kid I met in middle school, thinks my totally hot parents failed to pass the good-looking genes to me)

“How long do you think it’ll take before Luke starts playing favorites?” (HAHAHAHA as if I would ever be his favorite)

“I bet he thinks he’s better than everyone because of his family” (another huge reason why I can’t isolate myself anymore)

Yeah. So. If anyone has some tips on how to improve my reputation, please help. I know I’m a pretentious, self-obsessed jerk, but I need to make it seem like I’m not a pretentious, self-obsessed jerk. Thanks.

[satorisa]

Lift the Veil - Chapter 6

Lift the Veil - Chapter 6: Soul to Squeeze

Rating: T 

Summary: After living in Tokyo for the past six years, she decides to head back to Azumano to escape the big city. However, she now has to face everything that she tried to flee from all those years ago. How exactly will she fare when the pages of a long forgotten book start turning once more?

Read On: FanFiction.Net, Archive of Our Own

And here we are, with your slightly late but still somewhat on time update. I rather like this chapter. Perhaps you will too. But no spoilers.

I would also like to note that, at its core, this story is a sort of “coming-to-age” story for Risa (More of coming-to-terms since she is already an “adult,” but you get the gist.) It has been treated as such and will continue to be treated as such until much, much, much, later into the story. And that this story is also a sort of catharsis for me, just as a forewarning since we’ve hit the beginning of the angsty bits and the ensuing melodrama. So without further ado, please enjoy our starring lady’s development (or regression. or lack thereof. i’m going to shut up now.)

Soul to Squeeze

The angels in my dreams have turned into demons of greed…

“Harada-imouto, lay it all on me.”

Turning to Saehara, I saw him with his arms wide open and a creepy expression of satisfaction on his face. Disturbed, I went back to proofreading stories for the evening broadcast, trying to block out my currently obnoxious company.

“Aw, come on! I’m just trying to lighten the mood here!”

“You can do that without being weird, you know.” He pouted. “And there’s no mood that needs lightening.”

“Yes, there is! Chief’s been wound up, mumbling about some frustrating woman that refuses to give him the time of day, and you know how cranky he gets when he doesn’t get his way. And you have been coming in with darker circles.” I shot him a glare for even mentioning the growing bags under my eye, but he just shrugged. “Well, sorry for stating the facts here.”

“Saehara-san, I suggest you shut up and dig your nose elsewhere.”

“Look, the juju in this office is seriously whack. It all went downhill when you started working here, but now it’s unbearable!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Juju?”

“Yeah! Chief’s been on edge ever since, like he’s walking on eggshells or about ready to explode or something. The force stationed here noticed it too.”

“And this is my problem because…?”

“Well, I don’t know if a woman such as yourself would understand, but it was wonderful back in the day when Chief would walk in with that mien of confidence. Made us men feel ready to start the day with someone like that around. Then, after that night when we met up with you at the café, he’s been out of it. More so than usual if you know what I mean.”

“It sounds like your boss has a problem with a female, specifically this one.”

Saehara’s mouth dropped. Honestly, someone who prided himself on his investigative skills would’ve realized this by now especially with how obviously he described it only moment ago. “Are you telling me that—”

“…do you think it’s wise to continue digging into that matter?”

Hiwatari stood by the sofa holding a steaming mug of coffee. Our eyes met, and I saw the regret and hurt pooling in them, appearing for just a brief second before his customary stolid expression returned, aimed and ready to fire at Saehara.

“Well, I can’t help but be curious! And it’s me! It’s not like I’m going to blab to anyone about it. Well, maybe Akane but—”

All it took was one look to shut Saehara up. The poor guy gulped, slightly nodding at the frightening Hiwatari. The Commissioner retreated to his office and, while Saehara had somehow recovered from the death stare, yakking on about Hiwatari’s recently increased sensitivity, I couldn’t help but feel guilty about what had happened. I knew we both got carried away because of our bottled-up emotions, and that encounter so happened to release everything we wanted to compress (even when it clearly needed an outlet). Several years ago, I would’ve relished in the image of a broken and defeated Hiwatari slumped in his chair but now, after it actually happened, it honestly left me too unsettled to just leave it be. And since I couldn’t use my go-to strategy of pretending like it didn’t happen, there was only one thing left that I could do:

Apologize to Hiwatari.

“Harada-imouto, are you okay? You look like you just smelled some lingering roadkill.”

Once Saehara left, gloating about having “a homemade dinner filled with love from his honey-bunny,” I placed my laptop on the coffee table in front of me and made my way to Hiwatari’s office. I knocked on his door and, not hearing an allowance to enter, I decided to just let myself in.

The blinds were up, bathing the desk covered in papers the unsaturated orange of the sunset. It smelled like aging documents, coffee, and faintly of smoke: probably remnants of its precious owners. Hiwatari laid on the couch with one arm lazily hanging off the edge and the other positioned to cover his eyes from the light. I had the urge to check if he fell asleep with his glasses on, but I saw their glare on the low table.

Some habits never die.

“…what’s so important that you needed to barge in without my consent?”

“It’s me.”

He didn’t move. His body tensed slightly, and his casually open hands balled into sturdy fists. Frustration? Anger? I was slightly scared at his sudden change in body language and silently braced myself for the worst.

“Harada-san, I’m sorry about dinner. You don’t have to accept my apology, but let me at least say my piece before you leave. I simply pushed myself upon you without thinking about your feelings, and I should’ve been more mindful of that instead of finding a segue to berate you on your perfectly acceptable behavior.”

“Just because it was acceptable doesn’t mean that it was good. It was my fault for being belligerent and distant instead of addressing it immediately.”

“Harada-san, you had every right. If someone I cared about did what I had done all those years ago, I would’ve been equally, if not more, upset. This mess is mine and mine alone. You needn’t apologize for anything.”

I opened my mouth, trying to protest his words. For six years, I wanted to hear him accept his faults and apologize, as if seeing him this ruined would’ve given me the boost I needed to finally let everything go. But looking at his body somehow helplessly lying on the couch, and his eyes covered to avoid seeing me, I finally witnessed the toil that it put him through, too. I found solace in the fact that I wasn’t the only one affected by it, but that led to questions and assumptions I didn’t want to know the answer to. Or maybe I did know the answer to them, but I just couldn’t bear to face those truths.

“Harada-san, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have some time to myself. Thank you for listening, and have a lovely evening.”

“You, too,” I croaked, gingerly closing the door behind me.

Heading to my usual work space in the police station, I finished up my work as quickly as possible, managing to leave the station before Hiwatari clocked out for the day. If I went to the news station, I’d probably stay in my cubicle until hunger struck, allowing me to avoid much needed introspection with work.

Maybe I could drop by Mizuame de Noisette for some alone time if only to sort my thoughts out.

When I was younger, I heard something on TV (or the radio) about the health benefits of tea. It came around the time my obsession with chi and the flow of the universe started, and I somehow became obsessed with the brewed beverage.

So much so that I couldn’t stand coffee. My parents always made a pot for breakfast; Dad would drink it black, Mom had steamed milk with it, and Riku poured as much flavored creamer as the cup allowed whenever she found herself still tired in the morning. Even though I came from a family that preferred coffee over tea, they never bothered me about it. They’d drink tea whenever I brewed it, returning to their Japanese roots for those brief moments before allowing Westernization back into their lives once more.

(Funny how I talk about Japanese tradition when I gave it up for my weird obsession of divination using the Western tarot and the advent of the K-pop takeover.)

The first time I had coffee of my own accord and enjoyed it was in my third year of middle school at the Niwa household. Towa and Argentine tagged along with Mrs. Emiko to buy some groceries while Grandpa Daiki and Mr. Kousuke were on a trip to manage and redistribute the remaining Hikari works to areas able to care for the magical pieces. Riku and Daisuke were still at school, Daisuke dutifully manning the art club he was ushered into and Riku busy with lacrosse practice. Hiwatari, having already withdrawn from school to fully dedicate himself to his new post as the Commissioner of the police force, always left work early to accompany this member of the going-home club to what became his home after the incident. My parents still worked late back then and Hiwatari, being his courteous self, felt a need to keep me company until Riku came back with Daisuke so I would walk back home with my sister.

I was struggling through math, trying to manage without asking Hiwatari because I was stubborn—still am—when I placed my head on the table in utter defeat. Hiwatari, usually busy on either his laptop or with his paperwork, suddenly left his spot and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a couple of minutes later holding two steaming mugs.

“Harada-san,” he called, lightly tapping my shoulder. When I got up, he placed the mug filled with what smelled and looked like coffee in front of me. I couldn’t protest since I didn’t ask for it or make it, so I mumbled a “thanks” before hesitantly taking a sip.

I didn’t expect to enjoy it so much since I’ve tried Riku’s coffee many time in the past and disliked, oddly enough, its saccharinity that masked any hint of coffee besides its bitter aftertaste characteristic of all brewed drinks. Hiwatari’s coffee, however, was slightly creamy and slightly sweet while managing to still taste like coffee: just enough to make it palatable yet not too much to overwhelm its flavor.

“I’m sorry. I would’ve made you tea, but there was only coffee in the pantry. I hope it suit your tastes.”

“It’s actually really good. Thank you.” I cradled the warm drink in my hands, completely taken by it. “How did you make it?”

“I just brewed the coffee, Harada-san. If you must thank someone, drop by somewhere in South America or Africa to deliver your gratitude.”

I raised my eyebrow in confusion at his statement and the smirk forming on his face. After a beat had passed, I frowned, shaking my head at Hiwatari’s terribly timing.

He chuckled. “My apologies, Harada-kun.” I stifled the urge to correct him for the umpteenth time for using an honorific he knew I wasn’t fond of. He just kept that stupid grin on his face before continuing. “I used a French press to brew the coffee and added condensed milk and chocolate syrup.”

“I’m offended that you thought I needed chocolate syrup and condensed milk in my coffee.”

“Harada-kun, that’s how my host mother in America prepared my coffee.”

He never brought up his time in America, dismissing it as the time he spent staying up and reading books on art history and criminal justice. He never mentioned anything else regarding America, and I assumed that Krad and his young age made it difficult for him to bond with the other students.

“Really?”

I leaned towards Hiwatari, hoping that he would continue the conversation. And when he did, the cup of coffee I fawned over mere moments ago was long forgotten until Riku walked in and complained about how I wasted another cup of her favorite beverage.

The second time I had coffee served to me like that, I was over at a guy’s apartment, trying to get to know him before plunging back into the world of relationships and romances.

I deleted his number the moment I left.

After my fourth cocktail of the tropical-flavored variety, a waiter approached me, asking if I was okay.

“Of course! I’m peachy!”

“No one says ‘peachy’ when they’re okay, princess.”

I paused, nearly losing my grip on my drink. It took me a moment, but I finally focused on the waiter’s features. He had an attractive smirk and slanted eyes that screamed mischief paired with perfectly sculpted cheekbones and long, dark hair that tapered out in the back—was I imagining this?

Dark?

“Sorry to leave you like that. I would’ve stayed longer, but it didn’t work out.”

I knew that hidden behind his mask of nonchalance was a part of Dark that lived up to his namesake. Despite his usual animation, he was still a Hikari artwork, forever bound to the rules imposed upon him by his creator. His short-lived freedom always started with acclimating to his new host and teasing the poor kid about their love life and always ended either in full agreement or miserable compromise before plunging Dark back into solitude until the next of kin became of age.

“It had to be done.” I shrugged. “No hard feelings.”

But there were once many, many hard feelings that caused trouble for everyone close to me. Now they were a blip in the past that served as a forewarning for what had followed.

“I love you, Princess.”

“I know you loved me along with the many, many other girls that came before me. And you left every single one of them just like you left me. You promised me something you knew you couldn’t keep.”

What happened back then had to be done. The conflict that stemmed from the artworks residing in Daisuke and Hiwatari got so out of hand that it started to wreak havoc on the poor boys and, eventually, their respective “Sacred Maidens.” We had to destroy that artwork and free their blood from that awful curse to save ourselves.

Besides, I couldn’t hog Daisuke from Riku.

“But I’m here now. I’ve kept that promise.”

“Honestly, that sweet-talking mouth of yours sickens me.”

Even though he knew of his inevitable fate, he fed my gullible fourteen-year-old self loving words about forever and always. And having all those hopes and dreams crushed in the span of that event killed me. Maybe Dark used me to escape his reality, honing in on a girl that showered him with unadulterated affection for the person he was. And yet, that selfishness of his meant he needed to use everything in his bag of tricks.

Even if that meant lying to himself and me.

“What’d I do wrong? Tell me, and I’ll try everything in my power to fix it.”

“You lied. Just like him.”

He laughed, and I could hear the disdain and haughtiness with each note. “Comparing me to that glacier? Why do that?”

“Because I loved the two of you, but you both broke my heart because of this damn curse!”

I felt my frustration rush through me, and I slammed my hands on the table. Only then did I finally wake up, languidly trying to discern my dream from reality. Still coming to, my hand tipped over my cocktail glass, and I watched as it spilled and shattered on the floor below.

“Risa!”

Looking up, wondering who could possibly be calling my name, I spotted Daisuke weaving through the patrons and workers who had their attention directed towards me. He came to my table, briefly apologizing to the waiter cleaning up my mess before dragging me out of the café.

We ended up at a convenience store, and I followed Daisuke as he browsed the aisles, grabbing a canned miso soup and energy drink. On my way to the cashier, I grabbed a strawberry-flavored Caplico stick and strawberry milk and crept up behind him, gingerly putting them down on the counter. He didn’t say anything, instead pushing my snacks closer to his purchases and paying for everything without a fuss before sitting at a table outside. Daisuke urged me to drink what he bought for me, but my stubbornness won out as I opened my snacks and dug in.

“Are you okay?” he cautiously asked

“Does it look like I’m okay?”

He shook his head, unsure of what to do. We sat there in silence for a while until Daisuke opened his mouth again.

“Riku’s…worried about you. I’m worried about you.” He paused. “Um…we’re worried about you.”

Luckily, I didn’t catch his implication, too intoxicated and one-track minded to pay attention to anything. “You two don’t need to worry about me,” I said. “Let me roll into the gutter of life without your well-meant bumpers.”

“Risa…”

“Look, I made a mistake coming back here, okay? This is my punishment.”

Daisuke looked distraught: his friend was suffering, and there was nothing he could do to help. Riku really did choose a good man…

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry…”

His apology hung in the air, awkward and heavy. I didn’t even know what he was sorry for. Scooting my chair closer to his, I patted his back to console him. Funny, since he originally meant to make me feel better and yet it ended up being the other way around. When he finally calmed down, he stood up, picking up my trash and telling me he needed to make a couple of phone calls.

Holding the warm cup of miso soup in my hands, I watched him go back inside the convenience store. During his first call, he looked too distressed. Daisuke had to take a couple of breaths, and he walked around a little bit before hanging up and dialing another number. He seemed a lot calmer this time around, but he somehow hung up looking even more frazzled.

“Riku wants you back home ASAP,” he explained while taking his seat. “But I’m assuming that home’s the last place you want to be right now.” I nodded. “Any ideas on where you want to go?”

“A hotel.”

“Somewhere with someone you know, please. Riku would kill me if I left you alone like this.”

“You can—”

“Risa.” I’m your sister’s boyfriend. And while there’s nothing particularly wrong with you staying at my house, this could potentially lead to some trouble. And my house? Really?

I laughed despite Daisuke’s grave tone, but I knew he was right. While Riku was fine with me and Daisuke being friends, I knew she didn’t like it whenever Daisuke was overly nice with me. And his house was a riot: having me there in this state could either cheer me up or make me feel even worse.

Saehara popped into my mind, but I didn’t want to intrude. Besides, he has a girlfriend that he may or may not live with (we had yet to breach that topic), and I didn’t want her to become wary of me even before I’ve formally met her. Hiwatari also flashed through my mind, but I was not that desperate. Yet.

Taking out my phone, I scrolled through my contacts until I found Ritsuko’s number. I brought my phone to my ear, hearing the dial tone echo. She was my last hope and, if she didn’t pick up, I would have to—

“Hey, Risa. What’s up?”

“Could I crash at your place tonight?”

“Sure, is there something wrong?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, it’s a Friday night, so we have the time! I’ll text you to address, okay? Please get here safely, and I’ll see you soon!”

“I didn’t expect to see Daisuke as your personal entourage tonight! Is there something going on? Do I need to report this to Riku?”

“Ritsuko!”

She laughed, letting the two of us in, before disappearing into the kitchen to grab some refreshments and snacks. I sat next to a beet-red Daisuke on the sofa. Poor guy; even as an adult he was still too easy to tease.

“So, in all seriousness, what’s going on?” Ritsuko asked, placing two mugs of water and a bowl of sweets on the coffee table. “I mean, it must be a good story if Risa smells like a bar!”

I groaned, and she winked at Daisuke before laughing. Honestly, she was having too much fun with this situation.

“Well, as you can smell, I got drunk like a dumb college student, and Riku sent Daisuke to find me. And, since I didn’t want to go back home, I’m here.”

“Aren’t you a little too old for a teenage rebellion?” She laughed again. “Sorry, this is just too amusing.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” I grumbled. “Anyhow, could I freshen up a bit?”

“Oh yeah! I’ve laid out some clean clothes and towels on your bed. And a clean tooth brush. Other than that, what’s mine is yours.”

I thanked her before heading into her room, changing my clothes before cleaning up after my long day. Honestly, I wanted to pass out and forget today even happened

When I left her room, I saw her sitting on the couch, toying with her phone. She finally noticed me when I sat beside her, and she locked her phone and set it on the table.

“Daisuke left after you went in,” she explained. “So, what’s really wrong?” Her joking tone from earlier was gone, replaced with one of concern.

“I shouldn’t have come back.”

“Well, if you refused to visit for six years, you really shouldn’t have returned. If you’ve been running away for that long, you didn’t have to come back and act like you’re so strong now. And there’s nothing wrong with being a coward; not everyone was designed to slay dragons.”

“What’s up with the fairytale imagery?”

“It’s the only thing that came to mind! Don’t judge me!”

I smiled. “I’m not.”

“Well, for whatever reason, you came back, so you have to deal with it instead of drowning in alcohol. It’s not good for your skin.”

“You choose to dissuade me from drinking alcohol by talking about how bad it is for my skin? Just my skin? Really?”

“Okay, I don’t need your sass right now, okay? Too much alcohol is just bad, okay?”

“Who are you, my mother?”

“Would you rather be having this earful from me, Riku, or your mother?”

“Touché.”

We laughed. I really did miss Ritsuko’s company.

“Well, with a dragon like Hiwatari, I don’t blame you for running.”

My mind paused as those words hung heavy in the air. I hated when someone verbalized the truth, as if speaking about it granted my problem a tangible form that I could no longer just contain inside my mind.

“When he first transferred in, he was a statue that most of us girls admired from a distance. And you absolutely hated him. Then, somehow, someway, after Daisuke finally started officially dating Riku, the two of you became the bestest of friends which everyone thought was a guise for secretly dating.” I groaned at Ritsuko for reminding me about that, but she only replied with a coy smile before continuing. “And then you two just stopped talking near the end of our third-year.”

“Ritsuko…”

“And you were devastated. Maybe even more so than when Dark disappeared. I mean, it’s always hard to deal with losing someone you care about but…”

My racing heartbeat drummed in my ears, amplified by the ill-timed silence following her trailing words. Maybe she just paused there because she didn’t have anything left to say, and here I was freaking out over nothing. But what if she stopped because she needed some time to organize her thoughts before releasing a slew of words that could potentially shatter the precarious state of my sanity? Glancing over at me, her eyes widened, possibly at whatever worrying expression my face contorted to unconsciously before turning away looking guilty.  

“Sorry for bringing up a sore subject. I just…I don’t want to see you bogged down by whatever happened. It’s also late, so you should probably get some sleep, too.”

She handed me a blanket, saying that I could either sleep with her or alone on the sofa. I took the sofa mostly because I wanted some time to mull over Ritsuko’s words. Somehow, I had to stop running away from this, to compartmentalize and act like an adult.

Honestly, I had done a terrible job of doing that; both of us did. But I didn’t want to see what would happen if I put it behind me. I didn’t trust him or myself to keep it casual. After everything that happened, it really didn’t seem like an option. It was an all or nothing deal, and I don’t want to plunge back into that mess ever again.

I was too scared to see where it would lead us.