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Chapter Text

Certainly, certainly, you have heard it all before:

Ah, my dear beloved, 

A lovely and noble flower of evil.

Truly, you are the most beautiful of all.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,

Who is the. . . 

Those who are guided by the dark mirror,

As long as your heart desires, 

Take the hand that appears in the mirror-

So let us not linger any longer in this dim, misty place of introductions and get to the point. Suffice to say, the hand was taken, and a fellow opened their eyes in a coffin, to a coffin lid and a fire and a cat that seemed to be broiling itself alive.

~ ~ ~

For me. For them. For you. 

We are all running out of time. 

No matter what, never let go of my hand. . .

You -yes you, for now I shove thine consciousness into that of the confined, coffined fellow- lift a hand to your head. The world is spinning. Words echo at the edge of your mind, and you still seem to be hearing things.

Auditory hallucinations. . . that's a first.

Then blue flames flood your vision, lighting up the dark space, and cat with fiery ears bursts in.

"Okay okay, gotta get-"

The voice belongs to it, you realize, but whatever it's been saying dies when it sees you. 

You stare at the cat. The cat stares back.

Just as you think it might be a visual hallucination (another first), it speaks again. Shouts, really

"Wh-wha-! Why are you up!? A-and what's with your eyes?!"

You ignore the cat and look beyond it. Sparse green fairy lights, tall floor-to-ceiling windows, a giant mirror floating above a dais in the center. Caskets fill the air and rows of pews fill the path to the door. Was this some sort of church?

"Ugh, whatever!" The cat says. "I am the Great Grim! Now hurry and gimme those clothes! Otherwise, I'll-"

"Clothes?" you ask. "Are you referring to these robes?"

The cat snarls. "Yeah you dumb human, now- Huh?"

He blinks at the robes you've disrobed, folded, and placed as a square at the ground before his feet. He's a rather small thing, even as you kneel.

"They are far too big for you," you say, still bent at the knee. "But they are not mine to begin with. In any case, could you direct me to the authority here?"

The cat shakes off its stupor.  "Find 'im yourself!"

Rude.

The cat busies itself with wearing the robes. They are heavy, embroidered things, and you're surprised that the material doesn't burn up from the flames in its ears. Were they fireproof, perhaps? If so, combined with the floating mirror and coffins, this place might be some mages' guild then. . .how unfortunate.

You'd have to find her soon.

You cannot tell if she is within one of the coffins. Perhaps charms are keeping bound the magic within. They are all alike- night-dark wood with gold embossed upon it, a polished mirror near the head and an ornate keyhole some spans below that. You cannot tell if some more dangerous being lies within them either, so you decide against opening them. You exit the building and venture out into the cool night air. A chill travels down your spine, but not because of the cold.

The architecture is strange. The stars are wrong. The signs you see are in an unfamiliar tongue. Where are you? And where is-

You feel the sting of a whip and whirl about, ready to attack. Your knives at least, weren't missing.

"I see you've felt my lash of love!"

The figure that steps into view looks rather like a mage. With his bird-skull mask, feathered attire, wing-like cape, he seems proud of his avian theme. Was that his talent? Summoning birds? He seems friendly though. Must not recognize you any more than you recognize him, the moonlight too faint for him to notice your eyes. . . how fortunate.

"Are you one of the new students?" he asks.

"I believe so, yes." The lie slips from your tongue with the ease, and your knives slip back into your sleeves. You tip your head forward, an unarmed hand reaching up to tug at your locks with the apprehension of a lost student. 

He crosses his arms, feathers rustling. "You shouldn't do things like that, leaving the Gate by yourself! And where are your robes?"

"Gate?"

"My goodness. It's unprecedented for a new student to leave the Gate on their own. . .ugh, how impatient can you be? The entrance ceremony is already well under way. Let us head to the Mirror Chamber." 

He struts past you, back towards the place with coffins. He seems to expect you to follow him, so you do.

"Pardon me sir, but- Gate?"

He waves a hand dismissively. "It's the room you woke up in with all of the doors. All students who wish to attend this academy must pass through one of those doors to arrive here.

His stride suddenly slows, so you do as well. "Normally, students wake up only after the door is opened with a special key but. . ."

So the coffins are doors. Your eyes trail down to his cane. The end of it resembles a key. If you take it from him, would you be able to control the coffin you awoke from? Could you make it take you to your mistress?

"Oh my!" the magician says, quickening his pace. "Now isn't the time to be long-winded. The entrance ceremony will soon come to a close. Let's get a move on-"

You push fear into your voice. "Just a second, sir, where exactly am I?" 

He turns back to stare at you. "What's this? Are you still dazed?" 

You try to look sheepish, averting your gaze and awkwardly twisting your fingers in the silence.

He sighs. "It appears the teleportation magic has left you disoriented... well, it is fine. It happens often enough. I shall give you an explanation as we make our way there. For I am gracious."

He clears his throat and goes on a very informative spiel. It seems Night Raven College is an international magic academy. It also seems you are in some new realm. Twisted Wonderland- you've never heard of it before. The dread dripping into your stomach hardens into resolve. You need to get back, and soon.

This magician- Headmaster Dire Crowley- shows no signs of noticing your approach as he goes on about summonings and ebony carriages.

It is dark tonight. So dark most people must be inside. So dark Crowley didn't notice your eyes. So dark you can knock the magician out and drag him to some darker corner until he tells you what you need to know. Before you can make your move, however, you catch scent of smoke.

And then you hear a scream. Numerous screams.

Crowley's head snaps to the Mirror Chamber in surprise, and you run towards it.

Chapter Text

You run because you know how calamitous fire can be. You run because you don't know who may be locked in the coffins. You run because-

You can't just help me. You have to help other people too alright? Promise? Promise!

You burst through the doors and are greeted by panicking students and blue fire. Familiar blue fire. You see the cat still swallowed up by too-large robes, grinning proud and wicked at its infernal display.

Crowley arrives seconds after you, horrified as students slip past you two to leave the burning chamber. "At this rate the school will be a sea of fire! Somebody catch that raccoon!"

The cat doesn't look like a raccoon. Were cats called raccoons in this world? Well, no matter.

You approach the cat raccoon as the students bicker. How incompetent they all are, even as the world burns around them. When a turban-wearing student trailing fire from his backside bumps into you, you hold him still, swipe out the embers, then continue on your way as he thanks you. You catch a different student, one with short blond hair, looking at you intently as you move. You wonder if he sees the way the nearby flames curl towards you and disappear.

"Are you all even listening!?" Crowley wails, still at the entrance. He should fix things himself, you think, but if giving the raccoon your robes allowed him to enter, you suppose you are to blame for this situation as well.

A man with green eyes speaks up, echoing your thoughts exactly. "If it's just catching some stupid raccoon, can't you do it yourself, Teach?"

The raccoon snarls. "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not a raccoon!" 

The raccoon cat creature, finally notices you. "Oi, dumb human! You're not getting these clothes back! They belong to the Great Grim, and I'm gonna be the greatest magician ever!"

"You cannot even control your flames," you reply, staring it down. "Neither can you control your temper, it seems."

"Hey!" it bristles, "What do you know?! Now get out of the way or I'll roast ya!"

"Do it then," you say. "Roast me."

All eyes are on you. The creature looks surprised as well. Then it looks angry, as you expected it to. "Ugh, I'll show you-!"

It takes takes a deep breath, raises its hackles, then-

You shove your hand

right

into

its

mouth.

~ ~ ~

For all the resistance the Great Grim expected when he decided to enter Night Raven College, he did not not expect that. He did not expect the creepy-eyed human to shove their hand into his throat as he prepared his strongest fire attack yet.

He tries to stop it. Hellfire, he tries. But he can't stop his flames, can't swallow them after they form, so they pour from his mouth in beautiful horrible great embers of blue that greedily devour the human's arm. 

It smells like cooked meat. It smells like burnt meat. It smells like ash and metal and-

And Grim feels sick.

~ ~ ~

The flames stop halfway up your elbow, though by all witness accounts later on, the attack should have set your whole person ablaze. What remains of the limb is a dark, unrecognizable mess that is soon hidden by the torn fabric of the ceremonial robe you deftly wrap over it as if it were some minor cut. 

The Mirror Chamber is silent, you realize. Whatever students remain stare at you in surprise and disgust and fascination. The creature looks up at you with shock and guilt(?) in its eyes. 

"Neither your flames, nor your temper," you say simply, and the creature seems to shrink into itself.

You get up from the ground and hear murmurs.

"What was that-?"

"Crazy-"

"A stunt-?"

"Gonna throw up-"

Crowley loudly clears his throat. The student body snaps to attention. He puts on a smile, false and bright as glass jewels.

"Well that was certainly a display, wasn't it? Now that you've got your familiar under control-"

"I have no familiar," you say.

Crowley stiffens. "Eh? It's not yours? Then why did you-"

"It freed me from my coffin, and I gave it my robes," you reply. "It seems it took that as a sign to burn the place down." You bring your bandaged arm across your chest and bow slightly. "I apologize for the trouble."

Even with your head bowed, you can feel his golden irises bore into you. He is close, so close his cane is within your grasp-

But the students still remain, far too many to make a move. Whether or not they'd heed his cries to stop you, you don't know, but better safe than sorry.

"At any rate," he says, "Let's get it out of the school."

He picks it up by the scruff of its neck. You wonder if the creature made that bow by itself. Did it belong to someone? Have you injured someone's wayward pet?

When it catches you looking at it, it averts its gaze. 

Crowley looks at it like a vulture would. "We won't turn you into a stew. For I am gracious. Someone help, please?"

"Allow me." The boy that steps up has red hair and and slate-grey eyes. He points a crystal-tipped wand(?) right at the creature. 

"Off with Your Head!"

The creature seizes up as a peculiarly-shaped collar appears around its neck. It flails, spirited once more. "Nygah! The heck is this!?"

The boy wields the wand like a scepter. "Laws of the Queen of Hearts: Number 23 'One shall never bring a cat into a festival.' You being a cat means you've broken the rule. I shall have you leave at once."

"I'm not a cat!" protests the creature which you have honestly given up trying to determine the species of. "I'll burn this collar right up and... E-eh? I can't use my fire!"

The boy smirks. "Hmph! You won't be using any magic until I remove the collar. Just like an ordinary cat."

"Wh-what!? I'm not some pet!" Not a pet then.

"Don't worry, I'd never keep a pet as destructive as you."

The creature flinches at that. The red-haired boy makes a gesture and another student takes it from Crowley's hands.

"W-wait, no! Let me go! I'm gonna become the greatest magician! I'm going to-!"

You watch it leave and hear a wistful sigh.

"Wow, as wonderful as ever," a white-haired student with glasses mutters. "Any and all magic gets sealed by your Unique Magic, Riddle. I want. . . no, I wouldn't ever want that cast on me."

A magic-cancelling spell? You turn to the red-haired boy. Better wait for that one to leave then, it would be troublesome if such a spell were to land on you. . .

"Ah, are you alright, freshman?"

You blink. The white-haired student smiles at you gently slyly through his spectacles. 

"You must be in a lot of pain. . .what a poor, unfortunate soul. Not to worry, I can escort you to the infirmary."

You hear a scoffing noise and pinpoint the sound to a strange rectangular object floating nearby. The runes upon with flash and pulse in time to its voice. "Don't bother, Azul," it says. "I'll send Ortho over in his Precision Gear."

Before the white-haired student (Azul?) can respond, Crowley slams his cane against the ground.

"Alright, everyone!" Crowley says loudly. "We had a bit of trouble along the way but this brings the entrance ceremony to a close. Dormitory Heads, please show the new students back to the dormitories. Do make sure to catch all the ones who fled earlier. . .hmm? Now that I think about it, I don't see the leader for Diasomnia, Mister Draconia, around at all. . ."

"That's no different from usual, is it?" says the green-eyed student.

The boy whose fire you extinguished furrows his brows. "What? Did nobody tell him about the ceremony? 

"If you're going to complain you should have done it yourself," retorts a blond, this one with hair that ends in a violet hue.

"Hmmm. But I don't really know anything about that guy-"

"Students," Crowley stresses, and you almost pity him.

A short boy with black and pink hair sighs. "I was correct, I thought he might come, but it seems the invitation 'never arrived' again."

"My deepest apologies," says Azul. "I promise, we didn't intend to exclude him."

"His aura makes him hard to approach," the red-haired student says.

The short boy waves a hand. "It's fine. Members of the Diasomnia Dormitory can come with me. . . .I hope this doesn't upset him. . ."

The fellow leaves and the others trail after him. Once the Mirror Chamber is emptied, Crowley collapses into a nearby pew. He holds his head in his hands for a minute, then springs back up.

"Ah, it seems I've forgotten to get you assigned to your dormitory. Now, if you would step in front of the Dark Mirror."

He goes up to the dais, to the giant mirror suspended in the air above it. You notice now, that all the once-floating coffins now line the back walls.

It seems she isn't here then.

Crowley gestures to the magical artifact. "State thy-"

You seize the moment to punch him in the throat.

Chapter Text

Crowley staggers backwards, clutching his neck.

"Wha- why- that was completely uncalled for! I understand that you must be upset, but-"

"You understand nothing," the student says, and Crowley realizes that his cane is gone.

He narrows his eyes. "Young man, return that at once!"

"Return me to my world," the student says simply.

"Your world? What in the Great Seven are you talking about?" 

The student clenches his cane tighter, and it seems to bend. "I mean what I said. Return me to my world."

The headmaster takes a deep breath. Patience. The student is hurt and confused. He's scared, defensive. Crowley raises his hands placatingly. "Now now, let's all calm down. "

The student thing's eyes bore into him, and only now does he realize how unusual and unsettling they are- pitch black voids with luminous discs of gold.  Cold and inhuman, just as its voice is when it speaks.

"You say I am in Twisted Wonderland. Such a place doesn't exist in my world. I am certain you have never heard of Tellusaire either."

"I have not," he admits. He has a grasp of the lands from which Night Ravens hail, but- "I've never even heard that name before."

"Nonetheless," it continues. "You've managed to steal me away from it. So, my demand is simple- return me to my world, and I will return your precious cane."

Crowley manages a grin. "You should have explained yourself clearly at the beginning! That is a simple request- the Dark Mirror will send you directly back from whence you came. Simply enter the Gate, and picture your home clearly in your mind."

It looks at him warily, but complies. "I will drop your cane the moment I feel a pull."

"Very well," Crowley says. His cane will be scuffed from the fall, but that is better than it being snapped in half by this monster.

"Oh Dark Mirror!" he declares. "Guide this one back to the place they belong!"

. . . it doesn't so much as whisper. He thinks he can hear his cane splintering already. 

"Once more. Oh Dark mirror! Guide this-!

"It is nowhere."

". . .Eh?"

"The place they belong is nowhere in this world," the Dark Mirror booms. "It does not exist."

"Try again," the monster says.

Crowley glances between it and the mirror. "Oh Dark-"

"It does not exist."

"Try again."

"Young man-"

"TRY AGAIN!" 

"You heard the Dark Mirror!" Crowley cried. "Your home doesn't exist! What do you want me to do?"

He's suddenly lifted by his tie. He can't breathe. Oh Seven he can't breathe-

"Return me to my world," the monster hisses.

"I-I can't-" he chokes.

He's harshly thrown into the pews. He blinks the stars out of his eyes and finds the monster raging against the mirror.

"Take me back!" 

"It does not exist."

"I was taken! Your people took me! So put me back!"

"It does not exist."

It raises his cane. Crowley's eyes widen in horror, realizing what's about to ensue. Oh no. Oh heavens no, the Beautiful Queen herself gave that mirror!

"Put. Me. Back."

The Dark Mirror's face stares down dispassionately. "I cannot."

It screams. The monster screams as it knocks his cane backwards, ready to strike the mirror. Crowley rushes out from the pews, whip brandished, hoping to take the monster down before it can shatter a priceless treasure, then-

Then it crumples.

The cane slips from its hands. The monster falls to its knees, still screaming. Crowley stops in his tracks.

The monster student fallen thing raises a hand to its their neck. Nails fit to be claws plunge into their its throat and something too thick and black to be blood oozes out. It spills over their fingers, over their clothes, dribbling onto the ashy floor.

The screaming gurgles to a halt. Their head dips down, like the bud of a dying flower.

Crowley. . .stands there. Confused. Unsure of what he's just witnessed. Did it just die?

. . .was it alive?

At a length however, the figure on the floor withdraws their hand. They look at the inky grime coating their fingertips. They look at it for a long time, then they hide the blackened fingers in a fist. 

"Oh Dark Mirror," they say. Despite the damage to their throat, their is voice is soft and serene, eerily so. The viscous substance still trails down their neck. "Is my lady alive?"

The Mirror is silent, then-

"I cannot say."

Black blooms from where their nails are buried in their palm. ". . .is she dead?"

". . .I cannot say."

". . .I see."

~ ~ ~

She is not dead. You are not certain she is dead at least.

You feel the taint on your hands. You've acted brashly. Irrationally. Unkindly. 

She'd be so disappointed in you. 

Crowley stands nearby. You wipe your hands clean on the edge of your shirt, then take up his cane as you rise. You're certain you still smudged it. You offer it up in both hands and a bowed head. 

"I apologize for my outburst," you say, the understatement of the century. You must look terrible, a broken thing soiled in ash and blood. "I will do what I must to atone for it."

". . .you've been quite troublesome."

You keep your head down. "I am aware."

You hear him sigh as he takes his cane back. "What is your name, young one?"

"Yuu."

"Yuu-?"

"Only Yuu." 

"Mister Yuu then. Lift your head. When you apologize, you make eye contact with the other party, yes?"

"I apologize," you repeat, meeting his gaze. "Where I am from, such action is considered impolite."

"I think tossing the headmaster of a respected institution like a ragdoll is far more impolite an action."

". . .I apologize." 

Crowley pinches the bridge of his nose through his mask. You should make him tea, you think. Some migraine-mitigating tea. Ah, but does temida root even exist here?

"Things have become. . .complicated," he says. "But for now, let us assign you to a dormitory. Step in front of the Dark Mirror and state your name. Preferably without attacking me first."

He has a dry smile, as if trying to lighten the mood. You merely obey.

Yuu is your common name. You do not know what this world is like, if names still hold power the way they do in your world, but you dare not divulge your true one. 

But it is a name, true enough. Hopefully it will suffice. If not, you will deal with the outcome.

~ ~ ~

"I am Yuu."

The headmaster would have found amusement in such wordplay if he wasn't so done with everything. Ah well, he'd leave this otherworldly individual to be their dorm leader's problem until tomorrow.

"Yuu. . . The shape of thy soul is. . . Pomefi-"

Sorry not sorry, Mister Schoenheit. 

"Ah, no," the Mirror falters. "The shape of thy soul is. . .I. . .I do not know."

. . .what.

Crowley's voice comes exasperated and tinged with desperation. "But you said Pomefiore, did you not?"

". . .what I saw was not this one's soul, but the curses that bind it. I cannot divine the shape nor the color of their soul itself."

Crowley stares at the Dark Mirror, then at Yuu. "You- Yuu- you're cursed?"

"Yes."

"With what?"

They take a moment to answer. "There are. . .multiple curses. Also I. . . do not think I have a soul."

Crowley stares and stares and he thinks he might have an aneurysm. "What are you, exactly?"

"A flesh golem," they reply, and Crowley never wants to hear again. 

"A-a what?" he sputters, because flesh golem, what horrific thing is that? Golems are made of stone, not flesh. Where would the material for such an abomination even come from?  "And the curses? What are they?"

"They are enchantments to keep me functioning. I am cursed to be capable of human suffering, to be harmed more than any other, to live on despite the severity of injuries, to always be capable of experiencing pain anew. . ."

This is it, Crowley thinks. He's lost it. He's gone mad, stark raving mad. He's talking to a flesh golem from another world. It's probably some corpse reanimated through dark magic. It nearly shattered the Dark Mirror. It's still rattling off curses ranging from downright cruel and sadistic to mildly inconvenient as if it were some shopping list.

Crowley raises his hand. The golem stops. "This. . .this is unbelievable. . .but the unbelievable has been on parade today. . ."

He looks at what is apparently a flesh golem. It doesn't look particularly horrific. No scars, no scent of rotting flesh. Perhaps paler than normal. . . the eyes are really the only strange part of them.

He sighs for the thousandth time tonight. "This is the first time such a thing happened since I became headmaster. . . it's the first time any headmaster has experienced this, I'm sure. . . what to do. . .ah, what did you have on you when you came here? Do you have any identification, like a license for a magic car, name on a shoe. . . you appear to be empty handed."

It They blink at him. "What is a 'car'?"

Chapter Text

"This is concerning, I can't just let some. . . I can't just let you stay at this school. However, I can't just toss you out on the street with nothing to your name or any form of communication either. . ."

"Yes, I suppose being known as the headmaster who summoned a soulless flesh husk and let it loose upon Twisted Wonderland would cause some ill repute."

Crowley gives you a look. You return it. He clearly doesn't want you here and you share the sentiment, but right now, not much can be done about it. 

"I can earn my keep," you say. "I am capable of performing hard labor and housework. I can be a test subject for hazardous spells if necessary-"

"What? Test subject? No. No, why would you- why would you even offer such a thing?"

"This is a magicians' academy yes?" You stretch out the arm that the creature had burnt but a notch. You unravel the makeshift bandage, revealing a smooth limb with undamaged flesh.

"Surely, you must have students curious about certain spells, whether there are unintended side effects when cast on organic matter and such. I am cursed to live on despite the severity of injuries and to always be capable of experiencing pain anew. As you can see, I've healed from the earlier attack. Even my neck is undamaged, so-"

"No."

"-rest assured, I will recover from-"

"No, Yuu," Crowley straightens up, an odd expression on his face. "You will not- we will not be experimenting on you."

You lower your arm. You don't understand why he's so worked up about it. He must be a sort of magician to run a magical academy, so surely, what you said wasn't that out of place.  

". . .you said you can perform menial labor?"

"Yes, sir."

He extends a gloved hand. "Then these shall be our terms: I will search for a way to return you to your world, and do so when possible. In return, you work as a custodian and handyman, doing odd jobs around the school. Have we a deal?"

You search his features for a lie, but find none. You take his hand in your own, careful of the sharp golden claws.

"We have a deal," you say.

He smiles, looking quite relieved to be done with the matter, and heads for the double doors with his cape flowing behind him. "There is much to discuss, but for now, follow me. There is an abandoned building on campus. It was once used as a dormitory in the past so if you clean it up, you should at least be able to-"

"Ah good evening Headmaster! Big Brother sent me to help-"

Crowley slams the door. He opens it again.

"Big Brother sent me to-"

He closes it once more and lets out his deepest sigh yet. 

You angle your head to have a better look at the individual on other side as the headmaster opens the door a third time. You catch sight of flaming hair and a heart-flame as well- an ifrit? You've yet to encounter one in the flesh, but blue flames are said to be exceedingly rare in their kind. Was he royalty then? His eyes are covered by a white visor, and he is wearing a stiff metallic robe of some silvery material as well. . .a priest? An ifrit-priest? He seems to float, and that odd rectangle did say it was sending someone to heal. . .

"I thank you and Idia for your concern, but-"

"Ah, there you are!"

The ifrit brushes past Crowley to smile up at you. He's a small, cheerful thing. . .the sight makes your chest ache.

"Good evening! I'm Ortho Shroud! Please show me your injury."

You blink at him, at the brightness of his flames and attire. "There is no need, I am-"

He moves closer and you take a thoughtless step back. He tilts his head for a moment, confused by your wariness, then-

"Oh- don't worry! I know what I'm doing! My body has cutting-edge tools and my data of the medical procedures is all up-to-date.  So just- huh?"

You've thrust your arm before him. It's as unblemished as it was when you showed Crowley.

"But- the video feed Big Brother showed me- there were third-degree burns and exposed bone!"

". . .I got better," you say.

The ifrit frowns. "Bioscanning subject-"

Crowley pulls you away. "Thank you again, Ortho- you and your brother's initiative to help is commendable- but I will take it from here."

"Bioscan interrupted- ah, but Headmaster-!"

"Ortho Shroud," Crowley says sternly, "Please return to Ignihyde Dorm."

". . .understood," the little ifrit relents, looking rather despondent as he settles down.

. . .your chest aches again.

Crowley is moving along now with you in tow. The ifrit is left behind, standing alone in the doorway of the Mirror Chamber.

"Excuse me, sir," you say, and you break away from Crowley before he can protest. You return to where the ifrit stands, then quickly bow. "I apologize for wasting your time, but thank you for coming. You seem very bright."

He is silent for a moment, then he grins. "That's because of Big Brother! He-"

"Yuu," Crowley calls tiredly from where you've left him.

You bow again, then hurry back to Crowley's side. You see his irritation despite the mask as you two move along at a brisker pace. 

You don't see how Ortho stays rooted where he is for a good while, smiling about how nice you seemed and what a nice friend you'd make for his big brother.

~ ~ ~

"For the time being, I shall allow you to stay here in Ramshackle Dormitory."

With the way Crowley the Headmaster (for now he is your superior, it is best you regard him as such) gestures at the building, one would assume that it were some noble's palace. Instead, you see a rundown structure that looks like it hasn't been touched by a mop in decades. 

The door isn't even locked. When it swings open, you have to shield your eyes from the cloud of dust that rises. The sight that greets you is. . .certainly something.

". . . how charming," you say, because you were raised polite.

"My graciousness is limitless!" he preens. 

You can't tell if he jests or not, and choose to wander deeper into the dorm.

Dust blankets the place like snow, so much so that you leave a trail of footprints in your wake. It really is a large place, full of more dust, cobwebs, and broken furniture. The walls are damp and peeling. The pictures frames are broken and the pictures within them ruined. When you look past all that though. . .there is a sort of charm to it. It's buried under a hundred layers of grime and neglect, but it is there.

"I'm going back to do more research," the Headmaster calls as he leaves. "Make yourself at home, and don't go wandering around the school."

You hear the door close behind him. 

You look around once more at all the filth and ruin. Is this your first task then? Repairing Ramshackle? 

. . . well, you've dealt with worse. 

Chapter Text

You were examining the upper levels of the building when it began to rain. The roof had holes, and you could hear the unwelcome sound of water dripping onto floors. You wonder how weak the floorboards must be after years of water damage, then pin the thought for later. First things first- minimize the rainwater currently spreading inside. The kitchen should have some empty vessels-

"Fgyaa! It keeps coming! My adorable ear fire is gonna go out at this rate!"

You stop at the foot of the stairwell and peer out behind the corner. The flaming creature from the ceremony is here. You immediately move out of view as you hear it grumble about blind mirrors and stupid collars.

You must fix the door's lock when you can. . .how troublesome. The creature will be an obstacle in your efforts to restore Ramshackle. Should you throw it out, it might wreak havoc upon other buildings and may even injure students. The Headmaster could take that as a violation of your end of the deal and cease his efforts to return you home. 

Your nails dig into your palm. Unacceptable. You have to deal with the creature, and do so quickly. . .

. . .there is a fireplace in the foyer, isn't there? 

~ ~ ~

The night is going terribly.

Grim shakes himself to get the rain off, but his fur's still damp. Ugh, he should be a student by now, lounging in a nice cozy dorm room with a full belly! Instead he's here, shivering in a nasty, abandoned building. It's not fair! It's that dumb human's fault! Sticking their hand in his mouth and getting burned and making him look bad. . .

Because of them, he got collared like a criminal and thrown out like garbage. Him, the Great Grim! He'll find that student. He'll find 'em and he'll- he'll-!

"Neither your flames, nor your temper," they said. Their eyes- horrible, dead eyes- were cold, uncaring as they stared down at him. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air, and their arm had been turned into an ugly shade of red and black-

Grim shakes his head. No, no! It was their fault for getting so close! If they'd just let him hit them normally-

"GYAAAAAH!"

Something strikes Grim hard and sends him flying. Before he can orient himself, he collides against a wall. The dust clinging to it collapses, blinding him.

Grim hacks as he swipes at his eyes. "H- who dares- oomph!"

Something slams against him, but this time it's. . .soft? A pillow? Why would anyone attack with a pillow?! Just as his vision clears, he sees something large hurtling towards him.

He screams and presses himself flat against the wall, the cushion over his head. He's gonna die, he's gonna die! He braces himself for the impact-

The world around him shakes, sending more dust raining down. Along with with actual rain, because apparently he's under a leak. Great.

Once Grim notices that he is, in fact, not dead, he dares to open his eyes. He is somewhere small, and square, and dark. When he looks up, he can make out a blurry rectangle of light.

"Wh-what the. . .?" His voice is trembling more than he likes. "Where-?"

"You are in the fireplace," comes a voice. 

No, Grim realizes, stomach churning. It isn't just a voice- it's their voice!

"Y-you!" Grim growls, angry and afraid. "You punted me into the fireplace?!"

"Yes," they say, irritatingly calm. "Then I sealed it with a sofa. I advise against igniting it- the fireplace I mean. It's damp from the rain. The smoke will be suffocating, and you'll only tire yourself."

Grim pushes against the furniture blocking his exit with everything he has, but it doesn't even budge. 

"Let me out, let me out!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that. You're far too unpredictable to be set free."

Grim's heart pounds. No. No no no no no, this can't be happening- "So what? You're just gonna keep me here?!"

". . .not permanently. Only until I can contact the Headmaster for further instructions."

"And then what?"

"And then I will execute his orders, whatever they may be."

At those ominous words, Grim looks up. He's in a fireplace, so that's a chimney, right? If he can climb out-

"I also advise against climbing the chimney. Years of neglect have likely covered it with dust. There might be enough ash and debris there to extinguishes your ear flames."

"It's raining!" Grim retorts, looking for a decent clawhold in the stone. His paw comes away caked in grime. "They're gonna be snuffed out anyway!"

"Use the cushion," they suggest. "It's big enough to cover your head."

Grim grumbles but lifts it over himself. He can't believe this. Trapped in a fireplace by a cruel human with nothing but a dusty cushion for protection. . .he paces the small space, grimacing. 

C'mon, c'mon, think! You're a genius destined to become a great magician! This jerk ain't gonna do you in! Huh, why does he hear footsteps-

"Wait! Where are you going?!"

Their voice is a little fainter now. "I will be setting vessels under the leaks to prevent further water damage to the building."

"I'll help!" Grim eagerly shouts. "If you let me out, I'll help!"

There's silence. That must mean they're considering it-

"Thank you for the offer, but I do not require your assistance."

Grim hears their footsteps fade away, and his heart sinks.

~ ~ ~

The rain's stopped. Still, you continue to place bowls and cups on the ground. They'll mark the leaks for later on.

Your mind drifts to the creature as you return to the kitchen to collect more earthenware and porcelain. Grim, wasn't it? What a proud beast. Prouder than it has any right to be. Still, though it lacks control, it is rather intelligent for a monster. So few are capable of speech now, and those that remain are already bound to magicians.

Would the Headmaster allow you to keep it, you wonder. Grim is determined. Anything short of killing the creature will be an invitation for it to return, and it would be a waste to lose such a rare beast for mere spells. If granted entrance on particular conditions, at least then it should be bound by hospitality. . .

Ah, you're getting distracted. And ahead of yourself. The Headmaster is wary of you, and Grim even more so after you've caged him. Besides, your stay here is temporary. Even if you do manage to tame him, you doubt Grim will consent to following you back to your world. 

What a shame. Grim is a fluffy creature, and she so loves fluffy thing- 

What was that sound?

You bolt upstairs. Another monster? If it entered through one of the highers floor, it likely has wings. You stop by a room to exchange the receptacles in your arms for a sheet from the bed. The fabric is dusty and moth-eaten, but it's better than nothing.

When you reach the fourth floor, you find the bowls and cups have been moved. You find them moving even, floating or sliding across the ground, though that stops shortly after you arrive. You stare at the emptiness. You feel like something stares back.

"Hello?" you call out. "Is anyone there?"

No voice answers, but the furniture shifts a little. The floor creaks. Something seems to shimmer as it passes through one of the water streams from a leak, and you toss the bedsheet over it like a net. 

It flails through the fabric, and the cloths hovers a little too long in the air before settling down.

Oh. Oh, this place is haunted. Well this is troublesome.

"I apologize," you say, hoping you're looking in the right direction. Eye contact, and all that. "But I can't see you. Or hear you, for that matter. Since you seem able to interact with physical objects, I humbly ask that you write. I'd like us to communicate properly."

Everything stills and settles. You're considering continuing on as before and simply ignoring the poltergeists when an arrow is etched into the dust on the wall. Another one appears, then another, and another. A whole trail of them leading off into the dark. 

You glance behind you, at the less-dim-but-still-dark stairway leading back downstairs. The leaks weren't going to fix themselves, and there was still so much to do. . .but it is only right to respect a house's inhabitants, so you turn back to the arrow trail and follow it. 

Chapter Text

The arrows take you to a stairway that leads up to the loft. The place spans the entire fifth floor, and it is full of ancient furniture and antiques.

Things shift a little, dust motes slowing in their descent, perhaps as the ghosts pass by. You can almost make out figures in the faint moonlight. . .but they remain vague and undefined, and when you try to focus your eyes, you lose sight of them completely.

Something is dragged out from the piles and dropped on the floor. You bend down to examine it.

A rectangular board, wooden, with moons and stars etched into the corners. Runes have been stamped out in an arc across its center, and groups of them are placed symmetrically at the sides. Another thing is dropped- a teardrop-shaped piece with an eyehole in the center. . .a planchette? Was this a spirit board?

Old things rustle like triumphant laughter as the planchette moves rapidly over the board. 

H-E-L-L-O, it goes.

You stare at the board, at its strange symbols. 

". . .I'm afraid I've yet to learn this land's writing system."

There's nothing.

Then, the planchette hovering above the ground is flung out a broken window. The board is lifted up and thrown at you. 

You catch it just in time to feel something- two somethings?- breeze past you, back downstairs. You're left alone in the attic.

You feel a tug on the board. 

Alright, maybe not so alone.

You let it go and it's placed back on the ground. An old nail floats over. After a moment of pause, it taps out N-A-I-L.

The first symbol it tapped is the same as the one beginning the word at the upper right. You think back to spirit boards. From what you know, those groupings at the corners must be YES and NO. 

"Nail?" you ask. "Is that what you're trying to say?"

It moves to what you assume is YES. 

"You're teaching me?"

YES.

". . .thank you," you say. You settle down on the ground. Reading is a useful skill, so you can spare some time to understand the basics.

"The spoken language seems similar enough here, so I suppose your basic sound-symbols are as good a place to start as any. Could you please show me what letter is aka?. . .no? Oh, the letters must be named differently. The 'ah' sound then, if you please. . ."

~ ~ ~

Crowley doesn't know if golems eat, but he knows that his knowledge of the matter is rudimentary at best and that it certainly doesn't include flesh golems. So, he stops by cafeteria to ask for some heated leftovers before heading on his merry way to Ramshackle with a thermal bag.

Discounting the matter of how the golem threatened him, they seemed rather polite. Even humble enough to apologize where others too proud to admit wrongdoing would have offered compensation alone. Hopefully, they haven't left the building-

"Hmm?"

Crowley looks to the ground where something's just landed after bouncing off of his tophat. He turns it over with his cane, then picks it up by the claws of his glove. . .what was a planchette doing here? There are no students walking around or flying overhead. The nearest building is Ram. . .shackle. . .

Crowley hurries to the dormitory. The door is wide open.

"Yuu?" 

Silence answers him.

"Yuu!" he calls. "Where are you?"

As he enters the foyer, he sees two spectral blobs hovering about the fireplace.

. . .he had forgotten about the ghosts. Had the golem run out in fear? It seems unlikely, but he doesn't know them well enough to be certain.

"My dear ghosts!" he says. "Have you seen anyone around here recently?"

"We have actually," replies the larger of the two. "They're upstairs."

"In the attic," says the other near-skeletal ghost.

"I see," Crowley says. He's about to head up when he notices how the ghosts seem fixated on the hearth. Now that he looks at it. . .was the sofa always blocking the fireplace like that? 

"What is going on over there?"

The larger ghost laughs. "Your fellow caught something!" 

Crowley approaches the fireplace and the ghosts back off. He nudges the couch to let him better peer inside-

Something leaps at him through the gap. Crowley nearly screams in surprise as he drops the bag in favor of his whip to bind the something up. The ghosts break out in hysterics.

"Crap!" the thing squirms. "Argh, not again!"

Crowley's eyes narrow in recognition. "You! You're the monster that ran amok during the entrance ceremony! You were thrown out of the school, what are you doing here?!"

"Hey! Let me go, you birdbrain! I'm sick of you and your henchman capturing me!"

"Henchman? Yuu?"

"Hey, who said I was your crony?!"

Crowley tightens the whip when the monster tries to spit embers at him. "Not you you, I'm referring to Yuu!"

"Still not making sense!"

Crowley makes sure the monster's mouth is bound as he keeps it at arm's length like a bindle. 

He turns to the ghosts. "Yuu. Gold eyes, dark hair. They're upstairs?"

They nod, wiping tears from their eyes. Crowley trudges onward and upward. 

It's been a while since he's been in Ramshackle, but the footprints in the dust help guide him along. He almost steps on cups and bowls several times, which he'd be more upset by if he didn't notice how water dripped into them from leaks above. And the lights are off everywhere! The dormitory is in a much greater state of disrepair than he thought. . .

By the time he reaches the attic, he's coated in a layer of dust and his hat now bears some fine decorations of genuine spider silk. Maybe a few spiders as well, but he's not going to think about that. He catches Yuu's voice through the door. 

"Your spelling system is ridiculous."

"Tell me about it-"

Crowley pushes the door open.

The scene he comes upon is strangely idyllic. There the golem sits, cross-legged on the ground. Across them is another ghost, much larger than the two downstairs, with a rusty nail in his hand. Moonlight streams through the window, illuminating the two figures and the spirit board between them as silvery specks of dust fill the air.

Yuu blinks, then quickly gets up. They do not speak until they stand upright, hand on their chest as they bow-

"Good evening, Headmaster. I apologize- I didn't realize you were here-"

"What were you doing in the attic to begin with?"

"Teaching them to read," the ghost answers in their stead. 

"With a spirit board?"

The ghost shrugs. "They can't hear me. Or see me. Or the others!"

"What?"

"Headmaster," the golem interrupts. "May I ask why you've taken Grim from the fireplace?"

"Grim?"

"The fire monster."

Right. That. He blinks when he sees it. It seems his trek through Ramshackle has turned the beast into a dust bunny. Its blue eyes narrow and it writhes, managing to free its mouth.

"That's the Great Grim to you!" it snaps, spitting dust with the words. 

"Do you have plans for it?" Yuu asks.

"Who you callin' an it?!"

"Do you have plans for him?" Yuu corrects.

Crowley frees the self-proclaimed greatest magician in the world just long enough for it to realize its freedom before he binds it again, more securely this time. "You sound as though you have your own plans."

The golem's eyes settle on the monster and it actually stills. "I would like to keep him around, sir. He's gotten in twice. If you let him go, he'll just break in again. Of course, you could simply kill him-"

"Mhhm! Mhmmm!" the monster goes, shaking its head as much as it can.

Crowley stifles a laugh. 

"Oh?" he says, amused as he plays along. "Kill him? And however would we deal with the body?"

"You suggested stew earlier," they reply, making Crowley chuckle and the the creature squirm, "but I think it would be more prudent to do the usual procedure for such a creature."

"The usual, you say?"

"Yes. Slit his neck, drain his blood. He can breathe fire, so he must have a flame node. That is valuable, so best to lop the head off at the shoulders as to not accidentally rupture it. Cut him open from neck to tail. Remove the loose muscles, then the intestines. . . "

Crowley's amusement fades at they go on in far-too-graphic detail. The monster's already fainted, limp in its bindings. He lets out a nervous laugh. "My my, Yuu, what an imagination! But that's quite enough- it's not as though you truly plan to eat him-"

"I don't eat," they reply, frowning. "And as I've said, harvesting his organs would be of far better use."

"Better use?"

The golem looks at him as though he asked a question about basic arithmetic "He's a magical creature, so that means magic is diffused throughout his entire body. Every fiber of his being is more valuable as raw material than as mere meat."

The headmaster suddenly wishes that he had thrown the raccoon out before coming up here. "Yuu. . .the monster speaks. It's sapient."

"Which makes his brain all the more valuable, yes?"

Crowley stares.

The golem stares back, completely unperturbed by what it just said.

Crowley feels light-headed. He laughs again. It's painfully forced and uncomfortable. "You. . .you truly are from another world, aren't you?"

"Was that unclear?"

"Not at all!" he says cheerfully. "In any case, we don't. . .we don't do that here, Yuu. Sometimes monster parts are used for potions, yes, but they're always from mindless beasts, and always ethically sourced nowadays."

". . .I see," they say. "In any case, as I've said, I'd rather keep him alive."

"What for?" Crowley asks before instantly regretting what terrible torture methods they might divulge next.

". . .he's fluffy."

Crowley is not prepared for the whiplash that sentence brings. Or for the fact that they seem to smile for the first time since he's seen them. It's a small smile, playing more around their odd eyes than their lips, but it's there nonetheless.

"He's. . .fluffy?" he echoes.

"Yes," they say. "He's also smart enough to speak. Sapient, as you said. Such intelligent creatures are rare in my world. It would be a waste to kill him. Besides, he may prove useful yet for all the vermin certainly running about."

"You want to make a mouser of him?"

"Not necessarily. I will handle pests, if he will not.  I think he'll make for interesting company, if nothing else. And having Grim around Ramshackle is better than letting him repeatedly break in and wander with no supervision, yes?"

" . . yes?"

"You agree sir? Then, may I?"

Crowley doesn't know if he nods. He doesn't know what he's consenting to. Whatever the case, the golem's untangled the monster from the whip. They lift it- him? Grim?- they've taken Grim into their arms with much more care than he expects from the same being that had thrown him so easily earlier. They look at the monster softly, as if they hadn't casually talked about eviscerating it just moments ago. . .

Then they turn their eyes back to him, expression blank once more.

"May I ask why you came here, Headmaster? Have you another task for me?"

Crowley blinks. Shakes his head. Snaps out of it. He dramatically places a hand against his chest. "I so graciously brought you dinner, but as you don't eat, it seems it will all to go waste!"

"Not at all," they say. "I'll feed it to Grim. Shall we head downstairs, then?"

Chapter Text

They're halfway to the ground floor when Yuu speaks up.

"Excuse me, sir, but we didn't leave anyone upstairs, did we?"

"Come again?"

"The specter," they say. "They were teaching me the written language in the attic. I'm afraid I forgot all about them."

"The ghost left during our conversation," Crowley replies. "Speaking of which. . . the ghost said you couldn't see him?"

"No. I'm afraid I couldn't hear him either. It was same with the other spirits, assuming there were other spirits. . .will that be an issue? My inability to perceive specters?"

Crowley hums. "Night Raven College is partially staffed by ghosts. . .but so long as I inform them of this beforehand, there shouldn't be too many problems."

"I see."

Back on the first floor, Crowley picks up the fallen thermal bag from the hearth as the golem sets Grim upon the upright couch in the room. He may just be seeing things the dark, but the way they look at the beast is. . . oddly childlike.

Their head turns to him as he approaches. He hands them the bag, and they take it in both hands.

"I'll be back in the morning," he tells them. "Be sure to keep an eye on Grim."

"I will. Good night, sir."

Just before Crowley leaves, he stops by the light switch near the door. He's rather sure he asked that Ramshackle's power be turned on-

No sooner does he flick the switch than he hears a commotion in the foyer.

"Yuu?" He rushes over. "What-?"

They're glancing wildly around themself, eyes wide, hands raised, and knives -where did those knives come from?- glinting in their fingers. 

They look at him, alarmed, accusatory even, but their voice is steady when they speak. "Headmaster, what is-!" 

"It's just the lights, Yuu," he says, bewildered.

They still look frantic.

"It's just the lights," he says again. "It was dark, so I turned them on."

"An enchantment?" 

"No, it's. . .it's electricity."

"Elec. . .tricity?"

Crowley frowns. "Lightning. You're familiar with lightning?"

They nod hesitantly, lowering their blades.

"It uses lightning."

They raise their eyes to the ceiling. They stare at fixtures unblinkingly, brows furrowed. Long past when most people's eyes would start tearing up from the pain, their gaze shifts and settles on the unconcious monster on the couch. Grim turns over, but doesn't awaken.

Crowley's fingers drum the grip of his cane. "You don't have electric lights in your world?"

"No it's. . .fire, mostly. Torches and candles. Magical chandeliers and fairy lights, for those who can afford it. We don't have-" they gesture overhead.

"Well, you do now," Crowley says, swallowing his concern with a smile. "See this switch? This is how you operate it. Close, open. Off, and on again! Just turn it off if you don't plan to use it. It's not dangerous as long as the bulbs don't blacken or flicker. If they do, just close the lights and inform the-" they can't see ghosts "-inform me, alright?"

". . .alright."

They still look a little lost, but at least they're calm now.

"Will you be fine?" he asks.

"I. . .think so, yes."

"Then I'll take my leave."

They follow him to the door. "Thank you, sir. I apologize for keeping you so late."

"Think nothing of it," Crowley says, smiling still as he exits. "Am I not gracious?"

. . .the smile dies when Ramshackle's door closes behind him. Crowley heads back to his office with furrowed brows beneath his mask.

They didn't know what a car was. They didn't even know what electricity was. What else do they not know? He thinks about how easily they offered to be used as a lab rat, how indifferently they spoke of disemboweling a thinking creature. . .

Just what kind of world had Yuu come from?

~ ~ ~

The bag the Headmaster handed you feels warm and quilted. It must be valuable. You turn it around in the light (electric light, lightning in bottles, tamed and brilliant), wondering how to open it. Surely, the mage didn't intend for you to pierce it open. . .? 

Your fingers catch a metal tag. You pull it along the metal trail along the top of the box and find a lid separating from the body. The bag is warmer inside than it is outside, and it is lined with foil. You wonder for a moment, if it is charmed, then realize its thick walls must be keeping the heat in the way quilts and coats do. Interesting.

As you examine the containers of food that seem to be made of clear resin (what extravagance),  the creature beside you stirs. He must be hungry. You wait for him to awake on his own. 

Grim's nose twitches. His eyes slide open, drowsy and unfocused. ". . .hngng. . .food. . .?"

"The Headmaster brought dinner," you say.

He hums as he rises, stretching as he turns to you-

His eyes snap wide open and he quite literally jumps off the couch. He lands on the floor and makes for the door-

Only for you to lift him by the back of his neck.

"Calm down."

"Calm down?! You want me to calm down while you skin me and take my guts and-!"

"I said that I prefer you alive." 

Your words do little to console him. He wails and flails and scratches your arm. You're perfectly fine waiting for him to tire himself out like that when he remembers he can breathe fire and starts to do so. It doesn't spread too far, most of the embers dissipating in the air or upon your skin, but you find yourself thankful that everything's a little damp from the rain.

"Do stop, you might burn the place down like this."

"Shut up!" he shouts. "Don't try to give me orders!"

"Please do calm down. I don't plan on harming you."

His struggle continues as you walk back to the couch, squirming Grim in hand. He's a determined thing. Perhaps a show of faith?

You release him atop the sofa. He bounces upon it, blinking at his sudden freedom. You sit on the other end of the couch, the food bag between you two.

"You can't leave the building," you say. "The Headmaster allowed you to stay because I asked for it. If you leave and he catches you causing trouble, punishment will be upon both of us. I do not know if I can help you again, should such an event transpire."

He looks at you, still wary. . . then his stomach growls. His ear fire flashes up a little.

You gesture at the open bag. "The Headmaster brought food. He intended it for me, so I doubt it's poisoned. Have as much as you like."

Grim's gaze flickers between you and the bag, then he snatches up a container with a leg of poultry and retreats to the furthest corner of the couch. He struggles with it, squirming, body even turning upside-down as he tries to pry it open.

He stiffens as you reach over. You merely remove the lid and retract your arm. He blinks at you before devouring the drumstick, muttering something about tuna.

"What is tuna?" you ask.

He stops gnawing his fare to give you a dirty look. 

"Tuna's tuna," he says incredulously. "It's the best fish in the world! How dumb are ya?"

"I apologize," you say, looking him in the eyes. "I am unfamiliar with. . .many things here, in this world. If possible, I will bring you tuna in the future."

Grim turns back to his food. "You better," he grumbles. 

When he grabs a container of some type of mash, you open it for him. The same goes for everything else. He eats and eats. You watch him, doing for him what he cannot without opposable thumbs. 

He's rather dusty, you think. He didn't seem to like water. Would he consent to being brushed instead?

By the time Grim's finished everything, he's no longer scrunched up in the corner of the sofa but sitting in the middle of the seat cushion.

"So," he says. "What's the deal with you?"

"Pardon?"

He rises up, paws on his hips. "You give me your clothes, you ruin my grand entrance, you kick me into a fireplace, you tell that birdbrain that you'll gut me-"

"I was speaking hypothetically."

"-you won't let me leave, and now you're feeding me! So, Yuu, what's your play?"

"My. . .'play'?"

"Yeah! You better not be messing with me- I'll have you know the Great Grim is gonna be the world's greatest magician, ya hear?"

You find that to be a rather morbid wish, then you remember how the Headmaster stated that monster entrails weren't commonly used here. Perhaps he wouldn't need to slaughter hundreds of his kin to attain such a title then. . .oh, he's still waiting for an answer. 

"I simply thought your death would be a waste-"

"Hah! Even the dumb human recognizes my talent!"he preens.

"-since you are a talking monster, and creatures that can speak are rare."

Grim huffs, forked tail lashing angrily behind him. "Well if you're gonna make me some pet, forget about it!"

"I do not mean to tame you," you say. "I simply need to keep an eye on you so you don't cause trouble. You seem hellbent on trespassing no matter what is done to you. If you stay with me at least, you'll be allowed to remain on the campus. "

". . .think you can get your boss to make me a student?" he asks hopefully. 

"If by boss, you mean Headmaster Crowley, I'm afraid you misunderstand our relationship. He and I are merely under an agreement where I am a temporary custodian and handyman until he sends me back to my world."

He tilts his head. "Your world?"

"Yes. Tellusaire. Have you heard of it?"

"Nope! Well, if you're just a janitor. . . " Grim sighs, flopping backwards onto the couch. "You can't really help me be a great magician, can ya?" 

"If you are that intent on it. . .I'm certain I passed by a large library on the way here. I can ask the Headmaster for permission to use its resources for research. You can use it to educate yourself in the meantime, since you'll have to stay near me. If that is insufficient, I can ask around for students willing to tutor you."

He perks up considerably. "You'd do that? Really?" 

. . .his face is rather adorable when there's no smugness or malice to it. She'd like him very much.

"If it keeps you out of trouble, yes."

He grins. "Just wait and see! When I become the greatest magician ever, I'll make sure to reward you, henchman!"

"Henchman?" 

Grim doesn't seem to hear you, too excited as he waves his paws around, describing how awesome he's gonna become in the future and how grateful you'll be to have helped him out. He's gonna learn a lot of awesome spells, see? Spells that go BANG! and BOOM! and other cool stuff! He's gonna go down in history!

You pick up the trash and containers from dinner, watching him out of the corner of your eye. 

He truly is fluffy thing. Alas, his thick fur has made him quite dusty. You really must ask if you can groom him later. . .

Chapter Text

"Hey. . . have. . .help. . . school?"

Grim groans and turns over, paws over his face. "Unnnn. . . mmnya. . . Five more minutes. . ."

"Laze about too long and you'll never wake up!"

"Just like us! Eee heehee!"

The laughter jolts Grim awake.

"Ffgya!? It's you ghosts again! Hey Yuu, wake- huh?"

He is alone on the bed, not sign of Yuu anywhere. Useless henchman. Well, no matter, the Great Grim can handle this on his own!

Before he can attack though, the larger ghost floats through the ceiling. "Better get downstairs!" 

"Your hardworking friend's down there already!" adds the other as he fades away.

Grim shakes an angry paw at them. "I'll get rid of you eventually!"

He thinks he hears their mocking laughter in the not-so-distant distance. It grates on his nerves.

Grim plops back down on the bed and takes a moment to remember last night. 

After dinner, the human (were they human?) had insisted on getting him clean, and Grim sorely regretted telling them that he could, in fact, come into contact with water without dying. After hearing that, they had set to convincing him to bathe, and they were annoyingly persuasive.

It will feel like a massage, they said. 

You'll look so handsome and presentable when clean, they said. 

If you stay as you are, you may inhale too much dust and it may pile up in your lungs and cause irreversible damage, they said. 

The ghosts that had been more than happy to laugh at him in the fireplace were quite willing to bring over toiletries and brushes to see him struggle in a washbasin as Yuu scrubbed the dirt out.

Grim hated the water, hated how it clung to his skin, hated how Yuu held him down, presentation and lung damage be damned, he was not sitting still for this torture-!

But then they pulled the guilt card.

"Won't you please stay still?" they sighed. "You'll strain my arm."

"You're arm's fine!" he yowled, water splashing as he tried to jump out once more.

"That doesn't mean it didn't hurt."

He had clammed up after that, sullenly letting them have their way. At least they were careful to avoid his ears. . .

They left him clean and brushed on the bed of the cleanest room they could find after changing the sheets for less holey ones. Exhausted from the day and the bath, Grim fell snugly asleep.

Grim glances around himself. Last night's room may have been the neatest they could find, but it had still been coated in filth. This place is more bare, but the floor and walls are spotless. Did they move him in his sleep?

He leaves the bed and jumps to turn the polished doorknob. The same dusty hallway from last night greets him, though old paintings and furniture line the floors and lean against the walls. He heads down the stairs to find the furniture also shifted around. 

"Good morning, Great Grim."

"Morning?" 

Yuu's sitting in the rocking chair, looking rather like some old granny as they stitch and sew a round cushion. "The Headmaster already came by. He brought food and instructions. He also gave us permission to use the library, so we can head there later after today's tasks are accomplished."

"Uh, okay. . .?"

Grim pads over to the table, rushing once he realizes what's upon it. Beside a wooden board is a heaven-sent can of tuna. He almost dives for it when he sees Yuu pick it up, but they merely open the can before handing it to him.

"You've been busy," he notes.

"Yes," they say as he digs in. "The first floor has been cleaned. I will need to examine the furniture later and see what can be repaired. I've mended some sheets as well. There aren't many that can be salvaged, so I will have to find some way to repurpose them- ah, but the kitchen is clean. The icebox is working. We can start storing food-"

"You didn't sleep?" Grim asks. It's not concern. The Great Grim just doesn't want his first henchman to drop dead from exhaustion, is all.

"No," they reply. "There are many things to do. Besides, I don't require it."

"You don't-?"

"I'm a golem. I'm sustained through other means. Are you done? Good, I am as well. I apologize in advance."

"Wait, h-hey!"

Grim finds himself tucked under an arm. One hand's holding the cushion as the other picks up the empty tuna can. They pass by the kitchen to toss the can in a bin then walk out the door.

They turn around and bow at the empty entrance. "Thank you again for your help earlier."

"The ghosts aren't there, y'know." 

"I can't see specters. I thought it best to be polite."

They lock the door behind them, place the cushion in a large wicker basket sitting on the porch, then set Grim upon the cushion in the basket. By the time Grim realizes what's happening, they're already moving.

"Hey!" he protests, though the basket and pillow are surprisingly comfortable, "I'm not your pet!"

They glance down at him. "Considering how late you slept last night, I thought you might be tired. Do you want to be let down?"

Grim gives them a look, but settles. ". . .nah, you're already carrying me anyway. I'll just let you have the honor, henchman!"

They make a breathy sound. Grim thinks it might have been a singular laugh, but they're silent and looking straight ahead now, so he can't tell.

"I'll make sure not to drop you, oh Great Grim."

~ ~ ~

You stop only once on the way to Main Street, and only to pick up supplies from a shed by the botanical garden. (The garden is a great glass dome glittering in the morning sun. You must ask if you may tend it later. Perhaps you'll find temida root there. Perhaps in its glass, you'll catch a glimpse of the figures trailing you too).

You set Grim's basket down as gently as possible by the shade of a statue, but he still startles awake. He peeps at you beneath the campus map the Headmaster gave this morning. You'll bring him a proper cover from the sun next time. There was a large hat in the attic, wasn't there?

"We here?" Grim asks.

"Yes. I will be cleaning the street from the main gate to the library. I will not ask you to help me, but I do ask that you behave yourself."

He leaps out of the basket though, ignoring you completely. "Ooh, amazing! So this is Main Street?"

As he excitedly prances about, you fold the map and tuck it into your pocket. You suppose if he's so taken with them, you can start with the sculptures. They're well cared for, marble gleaming bright under the sun, but there are rain tracks left from the shower last night. Best to wash them off before they accumulate into bigger stains.

"I didn't get a good look yesterday, but what's with these statues? All seven of them look pretty scary!"

To you, they look oddly proportioned and somewhat malformed. Perhaps they're stylized? As you examine their pedestals, the scrolls carved out of stone and the texts beneath them, a thought strikes you.

"Great Grim?"

"Yeah, henchman?"

"Can you read?"

He glances back at you, blinking. "Er, of course I can read! Who doesn't know how to read? Of course a great magician like me can read. . ." 

He looks away as he speaks. He grins too wide. His tail flicks nervously, the biggest tell of all.

"If you are so curious," you say, gesturing at the statues' engravings. "There appear to be inscriptions here."

"Why don't you read them out?" he suggests instead, because of course expecting the monster to know the written language is too much. It seems your hopes of literacy still hinge on Mister Ka-eh-sar. . .

"I can't," you tell him. "I'm still learning the alphabet."

"Consider it practice!" He walks towards the statue of a scepter-wielding woman with roses at her feet. He looks at the pedestal for a moment, nodding to himself. "I'll just tell ya if you're wrong. You can't be that bad, right?"

"If you insist. . ." You peer at the arc of words scrawled upon the stone scroll. . .

"T'heh ku-eh-ehn of-"

"The heck is that?!" 

You frown at Grim, (at the snickers you hear in the distance too, what terrible spies). 

"I told you I'm still learning. I don't understand this place's spelling. We don't have double letters in my world, or silent ones. At least, we haven't since the common writing system was overhauled a century a. . .go. . ."

"You sure your teacher ain't a scam?"

A slight breeze makes the greenery gently sway around you, but the wind's sharp against your skin. You resist the urge to pick Grim up and run. 

Grim's looking at you. He asked a question. You need to reply.

"Frankly, I think he said there were three separate letters with the 'kh' sound, so he may very well be playing a trick on me."

You pretend to scratch your neck, surreptitiously wiping away blood from an already-healing cut there as you speak, as you casually move to the statue furthest down the street. Did Grim see the wound? Did they see it? Was the Headmaster testing you? 

Keep talking, keep moving. Don't let them notice that you've noticed.

"In any case, oh Great Grim, what does it say?"

The shrubbery continues to rustle ever-so-slightly in the wind. You catch sight of red amidst the green. There.

Grim turns his nose up in the corner of your vision, still avoiding eye contact as he waves dismissive paw. "It's just a snobby-looking granny-"

"Hey, that's the Queen of Hearts you're-!"

thunk

A knife sinks into the wood, pinning a figure to the nearby tree. His eyes dart to the blade so close his flesh, then to you.

"Good day," you say. You make sure to lock gazes with the eavesdropper. "I apologize for ruining your jacket, but may I ask what you're doing here?"

Chapter Text

Ace noticed him because of his clothes. He'd seen a sea of students today, all with their own touches on the Night Raven Uniform. A missing vest or blazer, half a pair of gloves here, a necktie tied into a bow there- but this guy was just in an olive gray button-up and faded overalls. Admittedly, after being forced awake early by his uptight ass of a dorm leader and examined to make sure his necktie was straight and his shirt tucked in and his face makeup perfect, he was a little jealous.

Still, as odd as it was, it wasn't that odd. He was probably a janitor or something, even though he was pretty sure his older brother said that the only non-ghost staff were the teachers and shop owner. Ace would have passed by, should have passed by, if he hadn't caught a snippet of their conversation.

"Why don't you read them out?"

"I can't, I'm still learning the alphabet."

Ace wasn't sure what he was more surprised by- the raccoon from last night still being on the campus, or the guy's admission that he couldn't read. So Ace stayed where he was. Got a little closer to them even, nice and out of view behind the trees flanking Main Street. 

"Consider it practice!" the monster said. "I'll just tell ya if you're wrong. You can't be that bad, right?"

As it turned out, the guy was, in fact, that bad. It was definitely worse than anything Ace could've imagined. He snorted so loud by the second syllable that he startled some bird above him, making leaves and white down settle upon his shoulders.

As Ace brushed the debris off his uniform jacket, a vague notion of going to class entered his brain. He knew he should've followed it- knows now he should've listened- go to class, hear the introductions, study well. . .that would be so boring though. This, on the other hand, was quality entertainment! So what if he's late? It's just the first day anyway. It's not like he'll miss anything too important. . .

Then he heard 'this place' and 'My world?' and that piqued his attention even further. He summoned a breeze that swept past the two and towards him, a neat little trick to hear the conversation better. (See, he's practicing his magic. Isn't he productive?)

Ace was wondering what the guy meant, trying to remember if there were any kingdoms that didn't unite under the Great Seven, when too many things happened in close succession.

He heard the raccoon go, "It's just a snobby-looking granny-" and Ace stood with a retort because okay, maybe he thought a lot of his dorm's rules were ridiculous, but the Queen of Hearts was still the Queen of Hearts, respected founder of Heartslabyul and one of the Great Seven! 

He stepped into view, ready to have a go at the raccoon- "Hey, that's the Queen of Hearts you're-!"

Then a freaking knife got hurled his way and embedded itself in the side of his uniform jacket, far too close for comfort.

It's still there, actually, keeping him stuck to the tree behind him as its owner looks at him with the freakiest pair of eyes (what the fuck is wrong with his eyes did this guy tattoo his fuckin' eyeballs oh shit oh shit-) he's ever seen.

And now, well, Ace has a few regrets.

~ ~ ~

You continue to stare at the fellow you've caught. Red hair, red irises, a red mark the shape of a saiklamen leaf over the left eye. No blades, but he has a crystal-tipped wand in his hand like the grey-eyed boy last night.

He stares back at you with surprise and fear. He's not denying his presence with excuses or inanities, but he's not explaining himself either.

"I asked you a question," you say. "It's rather rude not to answer."

Before he can reply, you hear something shift in the branches above you. You glance up just in time to see the soles of brown boots disappear into another tree's limbs. The next closest tree shakes as they land upon it, and the next and the next and you ready a knife before they can get too far- 

A sudden gust of wind has you reeling as hundreds of shallow cuts make themselves home along your neck and arm and whatever skin you have exposed. That unfortunately includes your face, and you instinctively wipe the droplets of blood away from your eyes with the back of your hand.

You grimace at your stained sleeves. Mister Ka-eh-sar found this shirt for you. You rather liked it.

When you look up, the jacket hangs limply on the tree. It seems Red has shed it to run deeper into the wood. You brandish another knife. If you aim for the ground before his feet like so, he should swerve to avoid it and trip over a tree root-

"Hey henchman! Who was- huh? I-is that blood? And what's with the knife?!"

. . .you glance at Grim. His blue eyes are wide with fear and concern(?) A drop of blood slowly trailing down your neck makes you distinctly aware of how you must look right now. . .

You lower your blade. 

So what if Crowley wishes to keep an eye you? He's wary of you, just as you are of him. He may be friendly, he may not wish to tear you apart, but he is still a magician who can't quite control you. Magicians never like that. In fact, it's fortunate the Headmaster hasn't employed more drastic means to keep you bound. . .

Your knife slips into your sleeve. "It's nothing, Great Grim."

"Nothing?! You're bleeding!"

"It looks worse than it is, I assure you." The jacket's still on the tree. You should take it down. "I overreacted is all. There was a magician listening in to our conversation. He cast a spell, I foolishly threatened him, and he acted in self-defense."

"Wait, that fire-head scratched you up like that? We gotta go after him!"

"Why?"

"Why?" Grim asks at your heels. "To make 'im pay of course! He can't just mess with my henchman and leave!"

(My henchman. How cute.)

"Your concern is appreciated, but unneeded." You draw your other knife from the trunk and examine the garment. The tear worsened when the student pulled himself free. . .and now you've stained the jacket. Great.

"Well if you're aren't gonna do something, then I will!"

And oh, isn't this familiar, you holding the beast up by the scruff of its neck. "Pardon me for lifting you," you say. "But you can't just go about broiling people."

Grim glowers at you. "You can't just let 'im get away like that!"

"He already has. Now, can I trust that you will not go chasing that fellow when I release you?" 

Grim grumbles, but eventually agrees to stay put. He eyes the jacket in your hand as you set him down. "You gonna tear that up at least?"

"No. I will mend and clean it, then return it to its owner."

Grim looks thoroughly displeased, face grumpy and bunched up. . .it makes him look so round and soft. "You sure are a doormat. . .that guy blasted you pretty bad. You know that right?"

"I doubt the the gravity of my injuries was intentional."

"Looks pretty intentional to me."

"He likely didn't mean to injure me to this degree any more than you meant to burn me as severely as you did last night."

Grim flinches at that, then looks away, crossing his little limbs. "Why d'you keep bringin' that up? You're fine already!"

"And I will heal from these cuts as well, so may I ask that you also let it go?"

He says nothing, but stomps off to his basket. 

You don't smile at the sight. His pride wouldn't appreciate it.

"I'll be back shortly," you say. 

Grim makes a noncommital noise and turns over.

There's a faucet behind the library building, just as Cro- just as the Headmaster told you there would be. You wash the the blood off your face and hands, then the jacket, as best you can. Next, you set the bucket to fill. As you watch the water flow, you wonder if the school struck a deal with undines or simply charmed the pipes. . .

When you return to the statues, Grim's eyes are shut in false sleep. His rest should turn to true slumber soon enough. You let yourself smile at it, then turn to the statue beside him, that of the royal lady with her crown and scepter.

"Excuse me," you murmur to the stone, just in case some spirit lay trapped within. You mangled her name beyond recognition, after all.

You're wringing a rag when you hear Grim speak.

"You were gonna do something though, weren't ya?"

"What do you mean?"

Grim turns his head to you. "That guy earlier. You were gonna skewer him, right?"

". . .perhaps," you say. "Perhaps not. Threats make talkers out of the taciturn. . .but it is probably for the best that I did not pursue him. It would troublesome if I harmed one of the Headmaster's men."

"I woulda guessed you'd cut that guy up for his guts." 

You frown as you step upon a stool to reach the top of the statue. "He's human. Humans don't have any inherent magic, so they're not worth 'cutting up' as you say. . .though he is a magician. . .ah, but he is merely one in training. His body wouldn't be saturated with anywhere near enough residual magic to make harvesting his organs worthwhile. Not that I would cut him open, even if it was. I have no use for such ingredients. . .oh, something the matter, Grim?. . .well, I suppose if you want to help, you can clear the path of leaves. . ."

~ ~ ~

In regards to his otherworldly problem, Crowley was feeling rather pleased with himself.

Sure, he still had no idea of how to send them back to their world, but everything seemed to be under control. Yuu had been polite that morning, gratefully accepting the tuna cans he'd gifted them for tanuki-taming purposes, and he'd been pleasantly surprised to find that they'd gotten around to cleaning Ramshackle's first floor. When he told them that they'd be cleaning Main Street for the day, they accepted the task without a word of complaint. Granted, it had only been a few hours. Students were just finishing their first classes. But there were no reports of cackling raccoons and blue fire or of soulless husks endangering his students or staff, so all had to be well, right? 

When the headmaster arrives on Main Street, he finds Yuu hard at work, diligently cleaning the Sea Witch's statue. When Crowley's concern spikes at the sight of scurrying blue flame, it's merely Grim trying to keep fallen leaves from fluttering away from their mounds. (Was he trying to clean the path? Crowley's a little concerned by how easily the leaf piles could turn into bonfires, but look at that, they actually got the monster to help!)

"Good morning, Headmaster," Yuu says. "Pardon me for the slowness."

"That's quite all right. I actually didn't expect you to clean the statues today."

They pause to glance at him. "Should I stop and sweep first?"

"Oh no, carry on, I'm certain the ghosts usually in charge of the statues will be glad for your aid. You can clear the path another time."

"I see."

They return to work, and Crowley's ready to leave the responsible fellow be when he notices the spots on their collar. The Ramshackle ghosts had lent Yuu what intact clothes there were in the run-down dorm, and the garments being quite old, they had some stains on them. Crowley couldn't recall seeing such fresh marks when he saw them this morning though.

"Yuu?"

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"You have. . .spots, on your shirt."

They blink and look down at their collar. When they bring their hand to it, Crowley's rather horrified to find similar stains on the cuff of their sleeve.

"Oh, this? It's only blood," they say with far too much nonchalance. 

"Whose blood?" 

Please don't say 'it's not mine.'

"Mine."

Oh thank the Seve- wait, that's still bad!

"How on earth did you hurt yourself ?" he exclaims.

"It was an accident," they say, turning back to the statue.

"Yuu-"

"You needn't concern yourself with it. It was my fault anyway, assuming as I did-"

"Yuu, explain clearly."

"Is that an order?" they ask.

". . .consider it a request," he says. "If I don't hear it from you, then I'll hear it from the ghosts." 

That is a lie, Night Raven College is short-staffed, and the ghosts usually here were assigned elsewhere once he'd told them Yuu was taking over for the day. But the golem wouldn't know that, would they?

They glance at the empty air around them. Crowley tries to keep his face straight.

". . .The fault is mine, as I said. I'm afraid I threatened one of your men. He merely defended him-"

"You what?"

"I threatened one of your men," they say simply. "He was eavesdropping from those trees over there. He cast a spell, likely a harmless one. . ."

Crowley doesn't know what that means. His men? They couldn't mean the ghosts. The teachers? Certainly he would've heard the uproar-

They mention a jacket.

Crowley follows their gaze and oh Seven is that a student blazer where is the student-

"Yuu," he says, and he's rather surprised at how calm his own voice is. "Might you explain everything from the beginning?"

It's the third time they've been asked to do so, but they still tell him the Tale of the Truant Student and this Godsforsaken Golem with as much tedium as someone being asked the time. Of course, he can't dwell on it very long because he makes the mistake of saying that he sent no men to look after them, and Yuu takes that to mean their mystery pursuers may have come from their world. He has to quickly explain that no, the figures they saw probably weren't organ-hungry Tellusaireans but curious students before the golem can get any further in their request to hunt down and interrogate the poor fellows.

"You likely just saw Rook Hunt," he says. "He has a bad habit of stalking his nonhuman schoolmates."

And that leads to another problem because he has to reassure them that no, Rook Hunt is not some epithet but just the student's name. He is not an assassin or bounty hunter, royal or otherwise. His hobby and name just coincidentally suit each other.

By the end of it all, Crowley decides to never think anything's ever going well ever again, and these are the facts laid bare before him: the golem threatened a student, and the student attacked the golem. 

Yuu shouldn't have done that, but they shouldn't have been so hurt either. Their explanation that it was likely a weak spell that only affected them so strongly because 'I'm cursed to be harmed more than any other. The effects of certain magics tend to be magnified on me.' was no excuse for how injured they became. The student had used magic in self-defense, which was understandable considering he was threatened by an ominous-looking fellow with knives. However, he shouldn't have been skipping classes to linger about Main Street to begin with.

It seems disciplinary measures are in order.

"Did you catch the student's name?" Crowley asks. 

"No, but I recall his appearance. Short red hair of an orange hue, bright red eyes. Black trousers, white shirt, red vest. His tie was striped black and white. He had a red saiklamen leaf over his left eye-"

"Saiklamen-?"

"Like this," they say, making a shape over their face with their fingers.

Crowley blinks. "Yuu, that's a heart."

They lower their hands to look at the shape. "No. A heart is assymetrical. The mark had no arterial crown, nor a venial cross-"

"No Yuu, not a literal-" he sighs. "Nevermind. Red vest and a mark on his face, you say?"

They nod. 

"He must be from Heartslabyul then. . ." How odd for someone under Rosehearts to be so truant. Then again, it's only been a day. Perhaps fear hadn't been instilled in the student quite yet. 

"Yuu."

"Yes sir?"

"As punishment for threatening a student, you will wash a hundred windows around campus. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. You will be doing that task with the student."

That actually makes them pause. ". . .could you please repeat that, sir?"

Oh how turns the tables. Is it bad that he's relishing it a little?

"You will be cleaning a hundred windows with the student you encountered. I will find him and inform him of it myself. You will meet at the cafeteria after school. Is that understood?"

"Headmaster sir, with all due respect, I think I will be able to accomplish the task better on my own."

"That may be so," he replies. "But the point of this task is to correct your behavior. You have yet to acclimate yourself to your surroundings. You may not be staying in Twisted Wonderland permanently, but I cannot have you assaulting my students at the slightest provocation in the meantime. If you are to be the college's handyman, you'll have to learn to interact with others. I'd like you to start with that student. Make amends, maybe make a friend while you're at it."

They look at him in what appears to be disbelief. It seems budding wizards aren't the only ones who despise cooperation.

". . .can I not clean two hundred windows instead?" 

"No, Yuu."

"Are you certain you'd rather not study my entrails?"

"No, Yuu."

"Sir, there must be another task more suited for punishment."

"You seem to hate this one well enough," he says rather cheerfully. "I can think of no better penalty. It's even rather tame compared to other corrective measures for threatening someone's life, no? Am I not gracious?"

"You are foolish, sir," they say, which is rather bold of them. "I threatened him. He will not cooperate."

"He will if he doesn't want to get expelled. Now, have you any other concerns before I go?"

Their expression is unreadable as always, but at last they sigh, bringing out the map he gave them earlier. 

"What and where is the cafeteria?"

Chapter Text

Apparently, a cafeteria is a dining hall. The moment Grim hears that, his ears prick up in the corner of your vision, and you ask the Headmaster if you might get the beast some fresher food from it. He acquiesces after an offer to help clean the place and a vow to avoid harming his students, so you head there after wiping down the last statue.

And now, here you are, standing stock-still in the middle of the dining hall's doorway. Though you assumed nonhuman races to be more plentiful in this world by the existence of Shroud and the statues revering the horned and finned and faunal, you still didn't expect to see so many beastfolk roaming about. They didn't look scared. They didn't look scarred. They were piling meat upon their plates and tearing into it with gusto beside tables of humans doing the same. . .they weren't merely being fattened up for slaughter, were they? The flesh seems to have the look and smell of typical livestock. . .

Grim suddenly running over to one of the counters (he had refused to ride the basket, what a shame) has you putting a pin in the thought.

You follow him and. . .well, you don't quite see whoever is behind the glass display of food, but you think you can make out a shadow of a round, floating figure with a chef's hat against the wall. 

"I apologize sir, but I can't quite see you. Great Grim?"

"What? Can I eat yet? I'm hungry!"

"Could you please relay the conversation between me and Sir Ghost?" you ask, gesturing at the empty space before you and hopefully not hitting anyone. 

The monster pries his face from the glass to give you a look. ". . .Yuu, that's a wall."

~ ~ ~

Grim finds it a little bothersome to have to play interpreter for Yuu and the ghost, but hey, free food! 

He chows down on omelettes and pasta, grilled chicken and seared fish. It's a shame that his henchman won't eat (can't eat?) but that just means he can eat for the two of them! He deserves it, doesn't he? He helped them out with cleaning, and that was a task quite beneath the aspiring greatest magician that was he.

As Grim picks the fish bones from his mouth, he watches Yuu move about the cafeteria. His henchman is still cleaning. Dressed in an old-but-bloodless uniform and an apron, they pick up empty trays and plates and things and and place them at a table where a ghost periodically swoops by to collect them for washing. In between doing that, they wipe down tables and politely answer some students who stop them for a question or two.

"You seem pretty good at this," Grim says when they check on him and clear out his plates. 

"I've waited on tables in a tavern before," they say. "This isn't too different."

Then they head off to clear another table.

. . .Grim can't help but feel a little antsy, sitting there as they're so busy. It's annoying! It's not like he's useless. He helped them clean the street. He was their middleman for the ghosts. He just. . .isn't doing as much. But that's fine, isn't it? He shouldn't feel so bad. They're fine anyway. They've even got the upper hand in this weird truce. Yuu could easily kick him out, and Grim knows Yuu could easily get rid of him if they put their mind to it. . .

They stuffed their hand in his mouth. They stuffed him in a fireplace. They gave him a bath. Because of them, he's stuck in a shabby building, being a janitor instead of a student.

But he burned them and burnt them bad. He's a janitor instead of a student, but now he has food and a roof over his head, even if it's kinda holey. They worry for him, about whether he's tired or hungry or if he should be in some half-hidden corner of the cafeteria just in case someone sees him and tries to get payback for him torching the school. They've been hard at work since last night, and maybe it's because they have their own reasons with the headmaster, but he's riding on that deal too. (Yuu also hasn't cut him up for his liver, which wouldn't typically be noted, but with how casually they talk about it, it's a little hard to believe that isn't a favor on their part.)

All he's done is pick up leaves and talk to ghosts. 

Grim grumbles and looks at the ceiling where a chandelier flickers high above. He's gonna get indigestion if he keeps looking at them.

"I'll become the greatest magician," he murmurs. Yeah. . .that's what he'll do. He'll figure out how to read, he'll learn all the best spells, and he'll become the world's greatest magician. When he does, he'll make sure no one picks on them, cause they're so spineless. Then they'll be even, right?

~ ~ ~

For a moment, Kalim thinks that he's seeing things.

Sure, this guy has black hair, and he seems about as tall as the boy last night too (about Jamil's height, he remembers, because in his panic of literally being on fire, he thought the black-haired figure that had helped him last night to be his best friend until he saw the guy's eyes and his actual best friend rushed to him), but if he is that boy, what is he doing in the cafeteria? What is he doing walking around? Why is he carrying so much stuff when his arm had looked so terrible last night that it made more than few people sick? So definitely, it couldn't be him right?

But when he moves, Kalim gets a glimpse of those strange gold-black eyes behind his bangs. "Jamil-!"

"Yes, Kalim," Jamil says, ever-calm and patient. "I see him. Just wait, he's passing by all the tables."

Kalim's anxious, excited, impatient- but he waits. Sure enough, just as Jamil says, the boy comes close as soons as the students of a nearby table leave it.

Kalim jumps up and hurries to him at once, calling out to him with a friendly, "Hey there!"

The boy whom Kalim had come to call not-Jamil in his head glances behind himself to where Kalim's standing.

"Hello," he says politely, then turns back to the table to swipe at a sauce stain with a rag. "It will just be a moment longer, sir."

Kalim blinks at that, at being called 'sir' in a school and at the hurried way in which the boy wipes the table before balancing a teetering tower of plates, bowls, and glasses in his arms. It was quite a sight from a distance, and it's even more impressive up close.

Not-Jamil pauses when he notices Kalim's still there. "I apologize sir, is there something I can help you with?"

Kalim snaps out of his awe. "Ah, actually, I'd like you to follow-"

"Is there a stain?" not-Jamil asks, "A spill?" 

"Huh? No, but-"

"Pardon me then, sir, but I will tend to this first."

The boy heads to another recently-vacated table and Kalim follows him, but a troop of Savanaclaws get in the way and before he knows it, not-Jamil is out of sight. Kalim looks around for a moment, but he can't find a sign of the strange-eyed figure anywhere. When he returns to the table and to actual Jamil, Kalim settles into his seat, pouting.

Jamil doesn't console Kalim as much as he tells him to eat his food while its warm. 

"Besides," Jamil says, "He looks busy. Perhaps you shouldn't bother him right now."

Kalim just frowns despite the deliciousness of the dolma he stuffs into his mouth. If not-Jamil's so busy, he should take a break! He has to be tired from moving around so much!. . .was that the same guy from the ceremony though? He didn't seem hurt at all to be carrying such heavy loads with ease, but surely no one else has such unique eyes . . .

He's wondering if perhaps not-Jamil has a twin when shadow falls over his eyes.

"Ah, hello!" Kalim says, straightening up.

"Hello," not-Jamil replies. "I apologize for the delay. May I help you?"

Kalim beams. "You already have!" 

He blinks once, twice. "Oh, you're the boy whose buttocks were set aflame last night." 

Jamil chokes on his soup, maybe from how deadpan not-Jamil said that. He should probably stop calling the guy not-Jamil before he mixes them up aloud.

Kalim just laughs. "Yep, that was me! Thanks for putting the fire out by the way! And I'm Kalim Al-Asim, Dorm Head of Scarabia! This is Jamil!"

"Jamil Viper," Jamil says, discreetly wiping his mouth "Vice Dorm Head of Scarabia."

"I am you," the guy replies with a slight bow. 

Kalim tilts his head. "You?"

"My name is Yuu."

"Oh, I see! So Yuu's your name? Wow, it must get confusing if there are a lot of people are saying you at once-"

"I suppose," he says. "Well, is there anything I can help you with, Sir Al-Asim, Sir Viper?"

"We actually wanted help you!" Kalim shoves his hands in his pockets, searching. "I didn't. . .really see the damage myself. . .but a bunch of the first-years who did said you got hurt pretty bad! Ah, where did I put it?"

Jamil pulls out a pouch. "You left it in the infirmary."

Kalim takes it from him with a sheepish laugh. "My bad! Well, here you go, Yuu!"

Yuu gingerly receives the pouch and opens it. A little glass jar the size of a tea candle, one of many in the bag, is lifted in his slender fingers. "May I ask what this is?"

"Burn ointment!" Kalim declares proudly. "We wanted to give it to you earlier, but we couldn't find you in the nurse's office and no one knew your dorm."

Yuu tilts his head, looking at the jar for a moment longer under the light, then he returns it to the bag. "I apologize," he says, drawing the string, "I cannot possibly accept-

"It's fine! We have plenty back at the dorm."

"No, it's-"

"Are you allergic to aloe vera?" Jamil asks.

"I don't think so?"

"Salamander mucus?"

"No, but-"

"Then you should just take it."

"I just- it's- there's no point."

Yuu promptly rolls up his sleeve and holds out his arm. Kalim thinks he spots something silvery against his forearm for a moment, but it's gone in the next instant and then all he sees is smooth, unbroken skin. The veins look kinda dark, but that's normal for paler skin tones right?

Kalim can't help but stare because sure, he hadn't seen it very well, but it had been quite the burn-blackened sight from a distance, and he expected it to be much worse up close. 

Jamil's leaning forward now too, eyes trained on Yuu's arm. "Not even a scar. . . might I ask how you managed such potent healing magic?"

"I'm afraid it's not something that can be replicated with elixers or spells."

"Unique Magic, then?" 

"Unique-? If you mean something like a talent, no. I don't have any magic of my own. I just heal quickly." He offers up the pouch of salves . "It would be a waste of resources to keep these when I will not use them, so please take them back."

Jamil shifts beside him, but Kalim's faster. He reaches out, hands curling around Yuu's and the bag, and gently pushes the pouch towards him. "Well, I think you should keep them anyway! Maybe they'll come in handy sometime!"

Yuu looks at him, and Kalim's a little surprised by how soft Yuu's eyes look despite the strangeness. 

"I. . .I will keep it then," Yuu says, pulling the pouch towards himself. "I suppose with Grim around, one can never be too cautious. . .thank you for your generosity."

"Happy to help!" Kalim beams. 

"I'll be sure to repay your kindness," Yuu says solemnly. "If you need help with anything- cleaning or building or spell practice or- well, anything, just ask. I will do my best to assist."

"No need for that, just consider it a thank-you gift for last night!"

"I- well- alright. . ." Yuu just stands there for a moment, looking at the pouch, then he snaps up. "Ah, I've forgotten what I was doing. Thank you once again."

Yuu gives a deep bow before disappearing to some other corner of the cafeteria.

Jamil sighs. "That was half the burn medicine in the dorm. . ." 

"We can just make more, can't we?" Kalim asks, biting into another dolma. His eyes light up. This one has seafood! Leave it to Jamil to make them with different fillings!

"Do you know how hard it is to get salamander mucus out of season?"

"Don't worry Jamil, I'm sure Sam has some in stock!"

Jamil says something about how that isn't the point Kalim, but Kalim's mind's already elsewhere. 

It's cool that Yuu can heal like that, it's great even! Still, he can't help but feel a little disappointed that his present won't do much. . .Oasis Maker was sort of useless in this day and age, but it sure would've helped last night. Jamil said it would have ruined the Mirror Chamber, but it would've been easy to pay for the damages. That would've been better than seeing Yuu get hurt and the freshmen all afraid. . .

Oh, he forgot to invite Yuu to the banquet next week. Jamil's already done eating and telling him to hurry up though, reminding him he shouldn't be late on the first day. . . well, maybe next time! And he'll give Yuu a better thank-you gift then too, he's sure of it!

~ ~ ~

First Shroud, now Al-Asim. What cheerful fellows. What a cheerful place. 

As you stow the salves away, you can't help but hope the boy's kindness isn't a facade. There was no malice in his manner, but you've been fooled by masks before. Certainly, his companion wasn't so blithe. . .well, if Al-Asim is as soft as he seems, it is probably for the best that he has such a minder. (You wonder Shroud has an aide like Viper. A wary acolyte might do the little ifrit good in this academy of mages.)

With the jacket and medicine in it now, the basket doesn't have space for Grim. You turn to tell him so, but he's asleep. Post-meal somnolemce, it seems. Well, he shouldn't mind too much, but you're rather disappointed to be deprived the honor of carrying such a fluffy creature. 

You deal with the rest of the noontime rush with relative ease. The act of clearing tables is monotonous save for some students who ask who you are and why you're there, and a quick answer, apology, and excuse of being busy has most of them moving on. The few unsatisfied leave when you raise your head and they meet your unsettling gaze. There are also those who ignore you completely or hold up those black-mirrored tablets, but they don't impede your job, so you ignore them in turn.

You're giving the tables a final clean when you hear Grim approach. 

"Hhuy, Hnchmnh." he says, hopping up on a bench with the basket in his teeth.

"Hello Great Grim," you say. "Have a nice nap?"

He yawns, tail curling around himself. "Til the ghosts woke me up, yeah."

"Did you like the food?"

"It was good. Tuna's still best though."

"A steady diet of tinned fish does not seem healthy for a cat."

"Not a cat."

"Right. My apologies."

He looks towards the kitchen. "The ghosts said you can come back and do it again if you want- the cleaning for food and stuff."

"Would you like me to?"

Grim turns to you with a frown. "Do ya wanna do it?"

"I don't mind," you say, wringing the rag. "The Headmaster will have me clean the whole campus either way. This way at least, you get some sustenance."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Aren't you gonna eat? The food's great. You should eat too."

"I don't have to eat. I am not incapable of it, but-"

"But?" Grim presses.

"I'd rather not waste food. I don't need it."

"But the flavor, Yuu! Don't you wanna taste it?Everything smells so good too! How can you resist-" He pauses, glancing towards the kitchen again. He grins. "See? The ghosts say there's plenty to go around. More stuff's gonna go to waste if you don't eat anything- ooh, and they're gonna pack some leftovers for ya so you gotta eat now!"

"Oh, if . . .if they insist." 

"They do!" 

You see boxes by the counters flickering in and out of your vision now as ghosts load them with viands. Truly, this is a softer place than Tellusaire. . .

. . .there were rations for week, if your memory serves. Should you fail to return before then, she'll have to forage for herself, and the harvest season is ending-

No. No point in dwelling on that. It will be troublesome to linger on such thoughts. It's only been a day anyway. Besides, you have so few clothes- it won't do to soil any more. 

"Ah, Sir Ghosts, is there an icebox here? I've yet to sweep Main Street and I haven't the time to store the food in Ramshackle. It will be a shame if the afternoon heat spoils anything."

". . .they'll put it in the fridge," Grim says before turning to you. "You better eat that later."

"You're awfully concerned for your henchman's meals."

"My henchman needs their strength," he says primly.

"I'll be just as strong regardless."

"And I'll be the judge of that, Henchman!"

The beast looks so proud and pleased with himself, wearing the face of one who knows everything and nothing. You can't help but chuckle.  

"If you say so, Great Grim."

Chapter Text

You do wish Grim would listen. Things were going quite well until he decided to go about being a harbinger of vengeance.

A cauldron appears from thin air and pins Red down. You stare at it, the solid metal pot gleaming in the sun and the student groaning under it. You nearly draw a knife before thinking better of it.

"I didn't think I'd get a cauldron. Did I overdo it?"

The voice is the same as the one that cast the spell. The voice came from beside you. There Spade stands, wand in hand, disbelief and triumph in his eyes as he meets your gaze.

. . .right, this is a magician's academy. Even Spade is a mage in training.

Yuu's like him. That's what Deuce thought anyway.

He remembered seeing them at lunchtime. He had bumped into them, and he saw a flash of gold before they lowered their head in an apology, dark hair obscuring the upper half of their face before they hurried on. He remembered seeing them rush about the cafeteria, the only one picking up after students. He remembered bringing his plate and dishes to the drop-off table himself as a small courtesy before heading to his next classes.

He didn't expect to see them again on his way to the Hall of Mirrors. They were out of the waiter-looking clothes and into the kind more suited for outdoor work. Their hair was out of their eyes, and he was struck by the bright gold rings of their irises and the pitch black of their sclera. (He caught himself before he could ponder about why someone would possibly glamor or tattoo the whites of their eyes- he had bleached his hair in middle school, after all. He might have gone farther if he didn't hear that phone call that fateful night. Did he really have any right to judge?)

So he jogged up to them while wearing his friendliest smile, and he introduced himself. Their name's Yuu? Cool. Oh, they were heading to the Hall of Mirrors? He was heading to the Hall of Mirrors too, so he might as well as help right?

Yuu was silent most of the way, but they did answer when asked, so he learned a few things. They're not from around here but a place called Tellusaire. They're magicless and only a janitor at NRC because the headmaster took pity on them. They're also apparently the guy who'd gotten burnt by the fire monster last night, which made it all the more jarring when they arrived at the Hall of Mirrors and said fire monster popped out from the shrubbery to greet them.

Deuce shoved Yuu behind him and told them to stand back, but they just ducked under his arm to ask the catlike creature if anything happened while they were refilling the bucket.

"Isn't that the monster that burned you?" Deuce asked, utterly confused.

"Yes, but-"

"They're my henchman now!" the monster proclaimed proudly as he came between them and Deuce. Was it just him, or was the creature giving him a dirty look?

"But we have since come to an agreement," Yuu said, "wherein the Great Grim here can cohabitate the Ramshackle dormitory with me if he behaves."

"You make it sound like I'm your pet!" Grim whined.

"Oh, I apologize, I didn't mean to demean you."

The monster grumbled about them and their apologies, but didn't budge from their feet.

So the student who got burned last night is a janitor with a maybe shady past and also they live with the monster who burned them. Sure. Why not?

When Grim grilled him on whether he knew a ginger with a heart on his face, he ended up learning another thing about Yuu- that they threatened a student this morning and got assaulted back. But they were repentant about it, if the way they hung their head was any indication. So you know, that was another thing he got about them.

They both haven't been the best people, but right now, they're both trying to be good. He's not the only one here. It's nice to know.

Learning that they have the ability to heal super fast was also pretty cool, and hopefully they'd share their secret about that one day, but for now, he would help them how he could, and he'd start by making sure they wouldn't fall off the rickety old ladder they're planning to use to get to the windows in the Hall of Mirrors. . . for as long as he could before curfew anyway (man was the Heartslabyul dorm head strict).

Then Grim suddenly ran off, then Yuu did too, and so he followed because how could he not?

He's proud when he summons the cauldron. He's proud when he stops the student (jacketless student, dormmate, the one who sat beside him in class tense and shifting as if something was gonna get him) in his tracks.

But Yuu- despite saying thanks, Yuu looks at him in this guarded way where they regarded him with something almost friendly earlier, and Deuce can't help but feel like he did something wrong.

He doesn't have the time to ask.

"Great Grim," they say, "You agreed not to chase him, did you not?"

They speak calmly, not even raising their voice, so why does Grim look so afraid now? It isn't even like a kid-caught-red-handed sort of scared, but genuine, barely-restrained terror. Why was that? If anything, didn't the monster bully them into letting him stay? Grim looking like he wants to bolt says otherwise. . .

(Yuu let their arm be horribly burnt without batting an eye last night. Yuu threw a knife at a guy like him just this morning. Was their deal with the monster really as friendly as they made it out to be? Was he really helping someone trying to be good here?)

Before Deuce can even begin to figure out if he should stop them though, Yuu crouches down, arms on their knees. A precarious position. A strong enough push could easily tip them over, and if Grim ran, the monster would get a good head start.

"Why are you so afraid?" Yuu asks. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Grim's eyes narrow, fear gone and replaced by relieved offense. "H-hey! Who said I was scared of-"

The sound of scraping metal draws everyone's attention. The runaway freezes, eyes wide with the cauldron shifted an inch off of him. Yuu promptly stands up. They lift up the whole cauldron with one hand holy shit and offer the student their free one.

"I apologize for Grim's behavior," Yuu says. "And for my earlier behavior as well. You are the student from this morning, yes?"

The student looks with bewilderment between them and their hand as they loom over him, and it's like something out a sappy kids' show, isn't it? Defeat means friendship.

Except the redhead glares as he ignores the hand, getting up on his own.

"The hell is your problem?!"

Yuu blinks. ". . .I beg your pardon?"

The student laughs. "You hold a fucking knife to my throat, then you crush me with a cauldron, and you're sorry? Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Deuce steps up, ready to get between the two if needed (him being a mediator, oh Grandma would be picking her jaw off the ground if she saw him now), "Oi, whatever beef you had in the past-"

"They threw a knife at me this morning!"

"Yeah- well-" Deuce falters, "You, er-"

"You cut them up too!" Grim hisses.

"They shot first!"

"You were snoopin' on us!"

"Oh, and that's such a fucking crime that I deserve a knife in my chest?!"

"Hey now, let's just all calm-"

"Who the hell are you anyway?" the redhead snaps, scowling at him.

Deuce can feel his eye twitching, but he takes a deep breath and tries a friendly smile that he just knows looks stiff. "I'm Deuce, Deuce Spade. We're classmates, so you know, it wouldn't hurt to remember each others' faces uh, er-"

"Ace Trappola. Nice to meet you," the student says with a sardonic smile. "And I am getting the hell away from all of you!"

Deuce gets why the redhead's angry, but Yuu's trying dammit so couldn't Ace try to to meet them halfway here?

~ ~ ~

Ace had decided that this was the worst day of his life.

His early morning run-in with the psycho knife guy was followed by scoldings from teachers for being late and the headmaster himself popping into class to have a word with him in the hall. (As the old man told him about his punishment for using magic for personal matters on school grounds, he couldn't help but notice the guy's dark hair and yellow eyes. Was he knife guy's dad?!)

There was no way in hell Ace was gonna wash a hundred windows just because he defended himself, so he was gonna head straight to the dorm after classes. He just had to survive until then. He stayed in crowded areas, kept himself alert. He skipped lunch when he noticed knife guy was somehow trusted to be a janitor in there, but he bumped into that kid from entrance ceremony- Epel- who handed him an apple and apple juice from who-knows-where so he wasn't that hungry, at least.

(Seven he wanted to get back to his dorm. The Heartslabyul freshman welcome party had these great pastries. There had to be some left over right?)

Still, despite his resolve to remain with witnesses other students at all times, Ace still ended up alone. He had followed some guys into the library, but fell asleep at a table. A nearby portrait eventually woke him up, but by then, everyone had disappeared. So he was on his own as he hurried to the Hall of Mirrors.

He saw psycho knife guy long before they noticed him. They were chatting with another student (was that his serious-looking seatmate?) far ahead of him. Well. . .that was not ideal, but as long as he didn't do anything to provoke them, he should be able to sneak around the guy and into the Heartslabyul Mirror right? They seemed perfectly calm right now, and they were already handling the windows anyway.

Except the monster saw him and immediately started chasing him. Ace turned tail before he could get barbecued.

Ace had cursed the day a hundred times over and curses it again when a fucking cauldron is dropped on him. The monster and its master approach, and of course the student (a Heartslabyul, mind you, so much for dormmate camaraderie)- of course the student was the one to stop him. But he probably won't get in trouble because of fucking nepotism. He can't even escape because he moves too fast and the cauldron scrapes against the ground.

He doesn't expect knife guy to just help him all of a sudden, to lift the cauldron and offer their hand, but if they think that's enough to make him forget everything, then they have another thing coming.

Even when Ace lays down what they did, the student and the monster are still on their side. He was the one who got threatened. He was the one who got attacked! The headmaster's kid doesn't even have a scratch on them, so why is he the bad guy here?

Before Ace can take five steps into getting an underworld between him and knife guy though, they get in his way. He glares bloody murder, but they don't move.

"Trust me when I say I do not wish to work with you either, but I need you to clean a window."

"What," he seethes as venomously as he can.

"Please clean a window," they repeat, and it's annoying how calm their tone and gaze is as they speak. "You don't have to clean it well- just swipe the rag over a pane and I'll do the rest. That's all the work I ask of you. I'll wash the remaining windows, but I ask you to do at least one."

Ace knows he should just let it go, play nice and play along so this fucking thing's over with, but he's sick of them and their shit and he breaks into a grin.

"A window. . .a window? You know what? Fine. Fine!"

He whips out his magipen and points it right at their chest. If the headmaster wants to get on his case about injuring his precious kid, Ace'll give him a reason to be mad.

"I'll show you a fucking window."

Four heads whip to the Headmaster as he strides towards you all. You hear Trappola mutter under his breath and Spade mumble aloud about the Headmaster's presence.

You step forward. "I apologize, Headmaster, I have yet to-"

"You be quiet."

You close your mouth and brace yourself. Surely, for quarelling with his students, you've done something worth reprimand.

But the Headmaster moves past you to tower over the two students. You blink and your eyes follow his form in suprise.

"Well, won't anyone answer me?"

"Headmaster, they were only-" You stop when the magician gives you a look.

"It seems to me," the Headmaster says with a quick survey of the area and and particularly long look at the cauldron, "That you two were using magic for a fight, and that you-" he turns to Trappola "-were about to fire a spell on Yuu here at point-blank range."

No one says a word. Slowly, Grim lifts a paw to point to the space behind the Headmaster, and the magician turns to see you raising your hand.

The Headmaster takes a deep breath. "Fine, Yuu, what is it you wish to say?"

You speak quickly, clearly hopefully, since his patience must be running thin. "This situation is my fault, sir. I could not control Grim. He pursued Trappola despite my orders. Spade only became involved he wished to assist with my punishment. When I attempted to stop Grim, he likely assumed I meant to stop Trappola and summoned the cauldron to do so. I. . .provoked Trappola, sir. He was injured as a consequence of my inability to stop Grim. He was rightly upset. I also invited him to attack me. The blame of this situation lies with me alone and I will comply with whatever punishment you see fit, so please-"

The Headmaster holds up his hand. You expect some spell to come rushing from his claws, but he merely lowers his arm to his side after you fall silent.

"Yuu," he says, and his voice is. . .soft. "This is not your fault. Not wholly anyway." He eyes the students and Grim at that before returning his gaze to you. "When I had you swear not to attack any student, I did not mean you were to allow yourself to be injured head-on by a spell."

"I. . .see, sir."

"Do not let yourself come into such a situation again. Am I understood?"

"Sir, I cannot guarantee-"

"That's an order, Yuu."

Your fingers twitch. What a useless order. You'd cut up the command if you could.

"I can try, sir."

The Headmaster sighs. "I suppose that's the best I'll get out of you. Now, what shall I do with the rest of you?"

Grim and the students tense. You feel terribly helpless.

The Headmaster eyes Grim as the monster stands upon his hind legs, his tail lashing nervously about.

"You should listen to your benefactor better, hmm?"

The monster looks away. The magician looks around.

"But you haven't injured or threatened anyone, nor have have you been using your fire by the looks of things."

Grim lifts his head, and when he realizes that the Headmaster's focus is on Spade now, he dashes over to you as a grey blur.

"Nghhh, that was terrifying," he says in a half-whisper.

You reach down to pat his head reassuringly before you think better of it (Grim's not a pet after all), but he pulls your hand down with a paw and mashes the top of his head against your palm. Your elation at the fluff is cut short by the Headmaster delivering Spade's verdict.

"Spade, was it? What's your grade and full name?"

"D-Deuce Spade, sir! First year, sir!"

"Refrain from using your magic for personal conflicts, especially around Yuu. As for punishment, you are to help Yuu with the rest of their tasks for the day. Am I clear?"

He nods. Vigorously.

"Then you're dismissed."

Spade visibly slouches over in relief when the Headmaster turns away from him, then jogs to you and Grim. He plants a hand on your shoulder.

"Guess you've got an assistant," he says with a smile. "How many windows do we have left, Yuu?"

"Fifty-two."

". . .fifty-two?"

"Yes."

"And you've been cleaning windows since lunch right?"

"Yes."

His grip turns vice-like and his smile becomes strained. ". . . Dorm Head Rosehearts is gonna kill me."

You blink at him. You do hope that's exaggeration- magician or not, Spade's been rather decent. You're about to offer to apologize to his dorm leader when you hear Trappola's cry of outrage.

"Expulsion? That isn't fair!"

"Isn't fair?" The magician asks, tilting his head and reminding you of some large predatory bird. "You've skipped classes, disobeyed simple orders to help clean the school as atonement for your first offense, and threatened a member of NRC staff- give me a good reason why I shouldn't expel you."

"I-I just- I can't- please, Headmaster, my brother went to this school and I- ugh, just give me a chance!"

The Headmaster stands unimpressed. Trappola's shoulders slump.

". . .Headmaster, if I may?"

"Yes, Yuu? And if you go on about how this is your fault, you can forget about it."

Well, you're not, so you step up to him. "Sir," you say, "you call yourself gracious. Grace is undeserved mercy, is it not? Then, with your limitless graciousness, could you not spare some for Sir Trappola and give him another opportunity to prove himself?"

The Headmaster peers at you strangely. You do not know if you should bow or raise your head, but this is not an apology so you choose the former. "I do not mean to mock you, sir. I only mean to say that it would be a shame if the graciousness you so pride yourself in is merely a string of meaningless words."

". . .you're rather bold for someone who blames themself for so much," the magician says.

"It is merely an observation sir."

The Headmaster stares. You stare back. At a length, he huffs.

"An observation indeed!" he says, looking amused. The magician spins back to the student, his large cape nearly smacking you in the process.

"Very well! I'll give you your chance, Mister Trappola. You know of the light fixture in the cafeteria?"

He nods.

"That magical chandelier is a priceless work of craftsmanship made by a legendary artisan ages ago. It was entrusted to this school since its very foundation, and while its candles are charmed to burn forever, the spell is maintained by a magic crystal which has been weakening as of late."

The Headmaster stretches out a hand to point at Trappola with a golden claw. "You, young man, are to search for a magic crystal in the Dwarfs' Mine where the original was mined from. If you can do so by tomorrow morning, you may continue your life here as a student of Night Raven College since I am so gracious. If you don't-"

"I'll be expelled," Trappola sulks. "Got it."

"Excellent! Yuu will be coming with you."

"WHAT?!"

That outburst came from Trappola and Grim.

Spade frowns, then his eyes widen. "Wait. Wait if I'm helping you then-"

"You'll have to accompany us, I'm afraid. I apologize for taking more of your time." You really must apologize to his senior. Perhaps it will divert his punishment.

"Headmaster," Trappola stresses. "Why-"

"-do they have to come with you? Because I say so," the Headmaster replies with a smirk. "But also, consider it an exercise in self-control. For all of you. Use the Gate in the Mirror Chamber to go directly to Dwarfs' Mine, and do come back unharmed. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," you all say in unison, the first instance of accord amongst you four, superficial though it be.

"That last part applies to all of you as well."

Three voices mumble out affirmatives.

"You too, Yuu."

"I will try, sir," you say.

The Headmaster shakes his head and walks away. His form shimmers like a mirage, then he's gone. What a magician he must be to so easily manage a teleportation spell. . .

"Aaah, today is just not my day." Trappola gripes. He turns to the castle and the Mirror Chamber within. "Come on, let's get this over with."

"May we head to the cafeteria first?" you ask.

The student glares at you. "What? Want your dad to fix you up a snack first?"

"No. . .?" you say (and what even is a dad?) "Despite my earlier duties in the cafeteria, I was unable to properly observe the size, shape, or color of this. . .magic crystal, we are to find. Do any of you know its appearance?"

"I didn't really look at it earlier either," Spade admits.

Grim shrugs. "There was somethin' in the center of that tree thingy in the cafeteria, but it was really bright."

You all turn to Trappola. The red-haired student inhales sharply and starts walking, hopefully to the dining hall. You follow behind him, Grim and Spade at your side.

How troublesome this all is. . .it seems you may have to wash windows late into the night.

Chapter Text

"This would be so much easier if we could fly. . ."

You glance at the blue-haired student sighing beside you. The excursion to the Dwarfs' Mine will likely take a while, and it will take at least two notches to finish the remaining windows when you return. . . .you really must apologize to Sir Rosehearts on Spade's behalf. Perhaps he will be spared if you do.

"Yeah well, we can't," Trappola snaps a few feet ahead. "Let's just get to the cafeteria to see the stupid crystal, get to the mine and grab one, and get back."

Him, you care less about being condemned, as terrible a thought as that is, though, given the opportunity, you will try to intercede for him as well. It won't do to make enemies . . .to make more of an enemy, anyhow. . .

"Why're we helping this jerk again?" Grim asks, sharing your sentiments but not your logic.

"We were told to by an authority," you answer in an acceptable and unpatronizing reply.

"But we're not getting expelled if we don't get the crystal right? So can't we just. . .y'know. . . ditch 'im?"

"These are orders from the Headmaster," Spade says. "We've got to take them seriously!"

You glance down at the monster by your side. "If you do not wish to go, can I trust you to beh- to manage yourself until we return?"

"And be bored outta my skull? No way! Besides, I can't leave leave my henchman with these two morons."

"Hey," Spade says lowly, and Trappola glances back to give the monster a dirty look.

"Grim," you chide, "Don't be rude."

"It's true though! The firehead spooked you, and Juice here-"

"It's Deuce- Deu!"

"Juice here," Grim says with an impish look,  "Brought a cauldron and didn't magic it away or whatever before the bird man saw. All we did was clean!"

"And threaten Sir Trappola," you add. "And accept Sir Spade's help, which then resulted in him following me and to the later incident with Trappola."

"It's not really your fault that I wanted to help though?" Spade says with an odd smile.

You look at the magician for a moment, then turn your eyes back to the path. ". . .in any case, we are going to the mine, and if you do not wish to stay, Great Grim, then you must come as well."

You arrive at the cafeteria soon enough, and the moment you do, Spade and Trappola jump backwards. You're about to draw your knives when Grim nudges your knee.

"Ghosts say hi," the monster says, then after a pause, "Nope, not done, can't eat yet. We got more chores, can ya believe it?"

Grim nods along in agreement to whatever the specters say. You take the moment to bow.

"Good afternoon, Sir Ghosts."

Spade blinks beside you. "Oh uh, good- good afternoon?" he says, mimicking you but bowing towards the other side of the room. Oh.

"My apologies," you say to that end of the cafeteria.

"They say it's fine," Grim relays.

Spade frowns. "You can't see the ghosts?"

"No, I cannot," you reply, walking to the chandelier.

"Do you know why?" Spade asks beside you, squinting up at the fixture. "Is it because of the no-magic thing?"

"Possibly." The chandelier is as you remember it- a large, treelike structure stretching over the dining hall, its branches laden with candles enclosed in glass spheres. A particularly bright glass is at its center. "Though I think it more likely that it is because I lack a soul."

". . .you what now?"

Spade's stopped looking at the center of the chandelier to stare at you. You meet his gaze, to be polite.

"Well," you say, "It's not a certainty, but if spectres are souls without vessels and I am a vessel without soul, it would make sense why I can't recognize a fellow soul, would it not?"

"But you- but you're alive, aren't you? You're here and you're not floating around like the ghosts-" He quickly turns, probably towards said ghosts. "No offense."

"I am a flesh golem," you say plainly. "so I have a physical form."

"Flesh. . .golem . . .?" Spade's brows are furrowed as he crosses his arms. "A golem is uh. . .it's a. . .isn't that a rock. . .thing? Ugh, can't remember-"

"A golem is a servile creature formed from non-living matter and imbued with movement through magic," you helpfully supply. "A golem usually has a roughly humanoid shape and limited comprehension- I'm not a typical example of one."

Like all the others before them, there are questions in Spade and Grim's eyes. None are voiced though, since the latter's ears suddenly twitch and he whirls to the kitchen where Trappola stands arguing with the thin air as the icebox door hangs half-open.

"Don't you touch my henchman's food!" Grim snaps, and Trappola sends him a look that makes the monster's hair and flames rise up before you give the beast another look that makes him settle down.

You do not recall seeing Trappola during the noontime service earlier. Has he eaten at all?

"You can have my food if you like," you state. 

"Henchman!" Grim gasps, adorably affronted on your behalf.

"I don't need it," you reply, but before you can ask the ghosts to show Trappola to the meal, the student's already trudging towards you three.

"Oh," you say, "Are you not hungry?"

"I don't need your food," he sharply retorts before promptly turning his eyes skyward to the chandelier. Trappola quickly looks away, blinking his teary eyes and grumbling about the Headmaster wanting to replace a crystal that looked perfectly fine.

Pride. How childish. Well, so long as he doesn't collapse from exhaustion. . .

Spade seems to be having trouble seeing the crystal as well, squinting through his fingers at the chandelier's bright core. Grim fares a little better but says it's still blurry to him. You stare up at it, unblinking. It's a rather uncomfortable sight, less because of the luminosity and more because of the stone itself.

"What the heck," Trappola says when he sees your unflinching gaze at the central sphere. "Did you lose your corneas with your soul or something?"

"I do not know what a cornea is. The crystal is the size of my fist, perhaps a little larger. It most closely resembles a fire opal, iridescent and flecked with silver, but much bluer with a red and green sector within."

"Looks about right!" Grim says cheerfully, hopping into your arms and burying his face into the coolness of your shirt.

Spade is silently massaging his eyelids as he looks down.

Trappola heads to the doorway. "Yep. That. Let's go."

The rest of your somewhat-blinded group follow the somewhat-blinded student out the door.

You give the chandelier and its jewelled core a long look before bowing towards the cafeteria. "Goodbye, Sir Ghosts."

"Bye uh, sirs," Spade echoes as he stumbles after Trappola.

"They said bye back," Grim says, right before seizing up in your arms to clamber over your shoulder and glare behind you.

"Great Grim?" 

"They said," he seethes, "Next time you wanna look at the crystal, we can just bring it down for you! Well why didn't ya say so earlier you- you-!"

"Thank you for the offer!" you say quickly as you carry Grim out.

You think that in the distance, under the sound of your footsteps and the curses Grim spits, you can almost hear the specters' vibrant laughter.

~ ~ ~

The world is spinning, spinning, and your insides feel wrong. You double over, hand at your mouth, fighting the urge to close your eyes because that would only worsen your vertigo. Your limbs feel numb and disconnected.

"Yuu? Yuu, you good?"

Spade? That is Spade, isn't it? You take a deep breath, vision focusing.

"You okay, Henchman?"

You register Grim by your feet amidst the swelling in your head. He steps on your foot as he passes. His paws are so small.

"Seriously?" Trappola groans. "We have to get a move on!"

A shifting Spade shoots him a look but you manage to straighten up. Spade blurs, Trappola's a smattering of red, Grim's flames dance before your eyes- you try to focus on a tree in the distance. . .it helps, just a little. When you first awoke in Twisted Wonderland, the vertigo wasn't this severe, was it?

Your stomach churns on the right side of your body and you find yourself quite fortunate to have declined to eat.

"Henchman-?"

"I apologize," you mumble. Abominable mirrors and their magic. . . "I'll be fine. I think my organs just inverted."

Spade makes a face. "That. . .doesn't sound good."

"I'll be fine," you say, taking a shaky step forward. "I'll be- ack!"

Grim dodges from your feet just in time to miss the viscous red-black blob you hack out onto the grass. You wheeze as you spasm, hand gripping your chest as something hard gets spun around, piercing and pinning and crushing parts of various systems in the process of re-aligning itself with the mirrored rest of you. You feel the damaged organs mending in their slithery, deeply uncomfortable way, but not before your punctured esophagus floods and you retch out some more tainted blood. This is easier. . .this is easier than if everything else were to move, but it still hurts.

You're close to the ground. You're so close to the ground. When did you start kneeling?

When you look up, it's Trappola you see, red eyes wide. "Okay," he says, looking equal parts disgusted and concerned. "Okay, maybe you should go back."

"I would rather not," you rasp, forcing yourself to stand straight, the weakness in your limbs slowly subsiding. "I would like to put off having to endure that again."

You meet his gaze until whatever is in his eyes melts into exasperation and he turns away. "Suit yourself."

You wipe your mouth, shirt sleeves already stained anyway, and focus on the world around you. Woods, fauna and flora familiar and unfamiliar, surround your party. The clearing is already dark, the world bathed in cool tones as the sun sets. Perhaps you should have asked the ghosts for provisions.

"There's a house back there," Trappola says, breaking the stillness, "Let's go ask them about the mine."

"Maybe there's a doctor there too." Spade keeps pace right beside you, as though readying himself should you collapse.

"I am better," you say.

Grim gives you a skeptical look. "You said your insides flipped. Sure ya don't wanna go back?"

"As Sir Spade said, these are the Headmaster's orders. I'd rather not disobey."

"Oh, but you'll disobey my orders, huh?" 

"Still upset about my offer of food to Sir Trappola?"

". . .Henchman, lift me up."

You acquiesce. Grim (face roundly grumpy) raises a paw-

"You. Need. To. Eat!" he says, punctating every word with a light smack to the top of your head.

Spade snorts at the sight. You try not to smile since Grim seems to think it a serious matter.

"There's a hierarchy to commands, Great Grim."

"Oh?" he says. "And where's the Great Grim in that order?"

". . .it depends on the request."

"Let's ditch!" Grim grins.

"The Headmaster's orders supersedes yours."

"Then let's go back for some tuna, then see how the firehead's doing!"

"We're already here, Great Grim, and that request also goes against the Headmaster's orders to accompany Sir Trappola."

"Hngh- hey Juice, help me out here!"

"It's Deuce."

"Whatever, help me convince 'em to turn back!"

~ ~ ~

For better or worse, Deuce does not convince Yuu to turn back before they reach the cottage. He does learn that his requests can trump Grim's in certain circumstances though, which is. . . well, he actually doesn't know what he'll do with that information any more than he knows what to do with the little fact that is Yuu being soulless, but hey, he has the trivia!

"Good evening!" he says as he enters the building, and he gets an odd sort of thrill from beating Yuu to the politeness punch before he realizes that no one's inside.

Yuu bows though, politely saying, "Good evening" after his lead.

Ace rolls his eyes. "There are no ghosts here, you idiots."

Deuce can't help but wonder if his classmate's trying to be unlikable. He decides not to dwell on it and look around instead. The place is covered in dust and grime, old things strewn about as cobwebs hang from the corners. . .

"I guess it's abandoned," he says to no one in particular. "It's a mess in here."

A sudden commotion in the corner makes him jolt awake and reach for his pen, but it's just Grim pawing at his face.

The monster's shaking his head, tongue out. "Pwah! I got a spider web in the face- Peh! Peh!"

As Deuce sees Yuu carefully remove the web, he really can't help but wonder what exactly is going on between the two what with the fluctuating fear and concern.

The other person in their little group is muttering to himself by what might have once been the dining area. "The tables and chairs are on the small side- are they for kids? One, two. . . seven? That's a lot."

"This was probably a lively home when Dwarfs' Mine flourished," Deuce suggests.

The ginger grimaces. "They did their jobs. Magic crystals are found near coal . . .abandoned this long. . . .ugh, are there even any left?"

. . .the mines could be depleted by now. It must have been years since the mine prospered. Deuce can't help but feel a little bad for Ace, if the headmaster really did just send him out on a wild goose chase. . .

crack

The sound of snapping wood makes his head snap to Yuu. They're sitting on the ground now, the wooden back of one of the little chairs in their bare, splinter-filled hand.

"Yuu!" Grim exclaims, and Deuce has to agree because what the heck man.

"What the fuck?!" Ace appropriately exclaims.

"There is a singular candle on the table," Yuu says, pulling out a knife and driving it into the thick wooden plank. "But there are three of us with hands."

"Stop!" Grim shrieks. "You won't have a hand by the end of this!"

"I'm sure I will," they say nonchalantly.

"Yuu," Deuce says slowly, "Please put down the knife-"

They pause to look at him. They hide the knife, thank go-

crack

Did they just. . .snap that thing in their hands? They broke a piece of fine dwarven craftmanship just like that?? Like a fucking candy bar???

It broke messily, more splinters sticking out of their hands, but that should be enough right? Yuu should be done right-?

Nope. Apparently not. They firmly grasp a half-plank in both hands, driving their splinters in to the point he could see blood before smearing their dark blood Yuu NO over the end of the stub. They do the same to the length of wood with their other hand. The knife's out again, just long enough for them to swipe it along the sides of the wooden pieces to trim the stray wood fragments. After that, they take the decorative square of cloth lying in the center of the table, tear it into four, and wrap a strip of cloth around the non-bloody end of each stub.

They tied it in bows, Deuce thinks distantly, a rather cutesy way to end the gruesome arts and crafts session.

Yuu wipes their hands clean and gets up. They walk past the unsettled three of them to stop at the doorway.

"Great Grim," Yuu says, and once again the monster looks afraid. (Honestly? After seeing Yuu do all that with a blank expression? Can't blame him.)

"Y-yeah?"

"Could you please ignite this?"

The monster blinks. "Ign- oh. Oh uh, sure."

He slinks to the front door and cautiously spits an ember at the torch Yuu lowered to him before immediately going five feet away with hundred-yard stare in his eyes. Yuu examines the lit torch, then snuffs it out with a bare hand like the unfazed maniac they are.

Deuce glances to his fellow Heartslabyul who gives him a look and gestures at the golem as if to say Do you see the crazy now?

Ace then heads to the door, the candle and its pan in hand. He promptly speedwalks away.

Yuu sets their golden gaze on him.

(Were their eyes always so dark?)

"Do you intend to rest here, Sir Spade?" they ask, and isn't it funny how they're the one asking about his well-being right now when they're the one with mutilated hands.

Deuce too walks out the cottage, leaving its dust and cobwebs and specks of dirt and blood behind. Yuu hands him a torch, and the gory stick in his hand barely reeks of iron. It stinks of something sweeter and heavier and more pungent, like ink or gasoline.

Deuce forces a smile to his face as he raises the makeshift light. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Yuu says, "Might I ask you to hold this for a moment?"

"Sure," he says, now holding two of the horrible torches as Yuu bandages their hands with the last strips of cloth.

Let me help with that, Deuce doesn't say, the words stubbornly remaining in his throat. It's kinda hard to wrap up a hand by yourself, right?

Instead, he wonders how he ended up here, holding bloody sticks at night at woods near a mine. He only wanted to help someone out. . . is this what people meant by no good deed goes unpunished?  Or was karma finally catching up to him for his delinquent years?

"Thank you," Yuu says, taking back a torch. "Let's not tarry and hurry to Trappola, shall we?"

"Y-yeah," he says, smiling until the soulless flesh golem turns their back to him.

~ ~ ~

If there's anything that Ace's learned from card games, it's that you need to know the value of your hand. If you don't know what every card does, what plays can be made with it, then you can't blame anyone but yourself for losing.

Yuu is dangerous. Yuu is insane. Yuu is obedient despite those first two things, polite and useful and willing to answer.

"Hey Yuu," Ace calls after gathering all his nerves, because he needs a magic crystal and because Yuu seems to only give mental damage to their allies if their interactions with the monster and Juice are any indication. In Ace's humble opinion, that's preferable to being shanked.

They walk up to him, the other monster close by but not as close as when they were heading to the cottage. The student is even further away than that. Ace does not pity them. They are a golem, unpredictable and soulless and armed and so obedient they'd wash a hundred windows and hurt their hands to help. Ace will not pity them.

"So you have flammable blood, huh?" Ace makes sure to use a nice, conversational tone as if this were a casual talk with any other student- like unimposing Epel. Yeah, like a taller, wrong-eyed, knife-wielding Epel. . .

They don't comment on his sudden chattiness. "In a sense," they answer, and offer nothing more.

"You didn't blow up at the entrance ceremony though, so can't be that flammable right?"

". . . it is the taint in my blood that can catch fire, Sir Trappola. Not my blood itself."

"Taint. . .blot? The stuff in your blood is blot?"

Yuu just frowns at him. "I'm not. . .certain? The byproduct of certain magics- it is called taint, where I'm from."

Ace isn't sure what he should focus on- Yuu might as well as have blot for blood by how dark they bleed- but blot isn't flammable, is it? What else could taint be though? What kind of sicko makes a person golem like that?  And out of flesh too, like a walking bomb- wait, where they're from, and this morning, 'my world'- did they mean that literally? Were they not Crowley's kid then-?

"I believe this is the mine entrance."

Ace blinks and looks down at the wood-framed doorway nestled amidst the tree roots. It's pitch black within, cart tracks snaking out of it like the tongue of some ravenous beast. The sight is one that makes the beast in their group shy away.

"W-We're gonna go in that pitch black hole!?"

Yuu tilts their head. "You're a fire monster. What have you to fear of the dark?"

Ace smirks in the way he knows gets on people's nerves. "Aww, you scared?"

The dumb raccoon takes the taunt, steeling its expression. "Ngh, I'm not s-scared at all! In fact, I'm taking the lead! You guys follow me!"

Yuu gently pulls the monster back before it can plunge into the dark depths of the mine. They then turn their creepy eyes to him. "Are you alright with such an arrangement, Sir Trappola?"

"Why should I care?" he asks.

"This is your quest," they say. "I assumed you desired to lead."

The raccoon blinks in realization. So much for that. Ace turns away, waving a dismissive hand. "I didn't want to spoil your fun."

The creature flares up with anger, and Ace gets the urge to hurl the thing down into the mine like one of those light-up rubber balls he used to toss down the stairs as a kid. Yuu calms the raccoon, then has the monster ignite their torch. The golem shares the light with Deuce, then holds their torch out to him. Ace cautiously tips his candle towards it.

"Flammable blood," Ace hums. "Any other tricks I should know about, Yuu? Other than the knives, anyway?"

". . .I heal quickly," they say.

"They got better from the scratches you gave 'em too," the monster mentions snidely.

Ace readies to retort when he remembers his retaliation that morning, a spurt of red amidst the green of his wind magic as his attacker frantically shielded themself from his spell. He hadn't lingered on the sight for long, seizing the opportunity to escape. He glances at Yuu now, the collar and sleeves of their shirt streaked with dark spots that were nowhere near fresh enough to have come from their nausea or torchmaking.

He stares too long. Yuu turns towards the mine entrance. "If you do not wish to enter first, Sir Trappola, then I will."

"Yuu-"

"It's fine, Great Grim," they say. "I'm expendable."

There's something wrong about that, about how easily they say those words.

The golem disappears into the maw of the mine, their beast bounding after them. Deuce unfreezes himself with a shake of his head and follows, telling the monsters to wait up. Ace enters last, and somehow, he finds it easier to breathe in the dark staleness of the cave than the moonlit coolness aboveground.

~ ~ ~

As you follow the rails deeper into the mine,  gemstones begin to stud the cavern walls. The crystals you spy are too green, or too small, or too foggy, or too dull, and if any of them were the right stone, they may have been left where they were for the sake of structral integrity. It's a marvel really, that the mines still stand, that the wooden beams still hold up the ceiling despite their years. . .

At some point Trappola takes the lead, and you follow him down the tunnel until it opens into a cavern lit by a bit of moonlight whereupon the search is split amongst the four of you.

It' a half-notch later when you lower your torch to look at a gemstone. Too orange, and it fractures in a way opal does not. The weight in your chest doesn't hum at its presence at least, the mine's crystals thus far all seeming as dead as the chandelier's. . . still, you can't help but mutter another apology under your breath. You feel rather like you're defiling some diluvian burial ground.

Flickering blue firelight comes close beside you, informing you of Grim's presence.

"Not it?"

"No," you say, rising.

"No luck on this end either," Trappola says with a glare at the non-magic-crystal-studded pillar he had chosen to check.

Spade sighs as he walks over from his corner of the cavern. "Thought I saw one but. . ."

"That one wasn't even a gem," Grim grins. "Just a shiny rock!"

"H-hey, it was a very shiny rock, okay!"

All these gems, and not a single one of them the stone you all sought. You dust yourself off with your free hand. "Shall we move on, Sir Trappola?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but Spade tenses, eyes narrowed. "Wait," he says. "There's. . .there's something there!"

Grim suddenly jumps up with a scream, bumping your hand and nearly making you drop your torch. You scan the area for danger but find none-

"Ghosts!" the monster cries with a frantic point of his paw. "Th-there!"

"Behind us too," Spade says with a grimace as he whips out his wand. The entities are malevolent then. "We don't have time for this!"

Unseen enemies, unseen danger- but spirits are spirits. Hopefully, even in this world-

You lunge towards the direction Grim indicated and brandish your torch in an arc of fire. There's a distinct chill as your hand passes through something in the air, and Grim and the students flinch from a phantom cry.

It seems spectres here abhor flame too.

"This way!" Trappola calls behind you, and you turn back just in time to see him disappear into a tunnel, Spade right behind him. You toss the torch and grab Grim as you follow.

Grim's claws dig into your back. "They're gaining on us!"

"Can you hit them?" you ask.

"Hit-? But you- you're too close-"

"Just fire!"

A moment of hesitation, then the pressure of his paws shifts as Grim perches on your shoulder. There's a searing heat by your neck as he lets loose a ball of flame, then a searing heat on your neck as Grim scrambles to the ground to run beside you.

"Hair!" he yelps. "You hair's-!

You quickly bring out a knife to cut away the lit locks below your nape. What a shame, she liked to braid it-

"Yuu, duck!"

You force calmness and follow Spade's command just as a cauldron barrells overhead.

"They're still there?!" Trappola skids to stop, red jewel glinting in his hand-

"Tempest!" he shouts.

Streams of green light curl from Trappola's wand as a blast of wind hurtles down the tunnel. You flatten yourself against the cavern wall as best you can, shielding your face with your arms once more. Clothing and hair whip violently in the magical gust as cuts line the nakedness of your hands and neck.

"C'mon!" Trappola says, grabbing your stinging wrist as he pulls you up and into a branching tunnel, Spade and Grim at your heels. 

The four of you hurry down the path until it opens into another cavern, this one illuminated by streams of moonlight that shine through the many holes in the cavern ceiling. Trappola releases you and slumps against the wall of a space half-hidden by a large boulder. You sit down as well, pocketing the scrap of ribbon that once tied your hair.

"Figures this place would be haunted," Trappola groans.

Spade doesn't look nearly as winded as Trappola, but he's still panting. "Are the ghosts-?"

"Don't see 'em," Grim says after a quick peek past the edge of your hidden nook. He walks up to you with a grimace. "You okay, Henchman?"

The students turn to you, only now seeming to notice the dark ichor weeping from  your wounds. You can feel the blood from your neck and hands seeping into the fabric of your clothes.

"Did the ghosts do that?" Spade asks, and you find that his eyes are rather like Grim's what with their blueness and concern.

"Got hit by wind," Grim answers sharply as he climbs into your lap. He doesn't glare at Trappola, but the message is clear, and you speak up before things can escalate.

"Thank you for the aid, Sir Trappola, Sir Spade."

". . .I wasn't even aiming for you," Trappola mutters with knitted brows.

"But they're magicless," Spade says with crossed arms.

"It's because I'm cursed," you say, "Not because I lack magic."

Everyone gives you a look, then there's just this collective sigh.

"You know what?" Spade says, throwing his hands in the air. "Not even gonna question it anymore."

Grim doesn't budge from your legs. "Curse or no curse," he says curtly. "You owe me a ton of tuna."

"Anything else you want to drop on us, oh cursed, otherworldy, magicless, soulless, quick-healing Yuu?" Trappola asks, wiping your grime from his hand. "Any more secrets you want to pull out of your sleeve like a never-ending hankerchief?"

"I've. . .never heard of electricity until last night?" you say uncertainly, unsure of the relevance. Perhaps there were electric lights here, and the torches were unneccessary. . .?

The student gives you yet another look. "Seriously?"

"Ignoring that," Spade says, "What's the plan?"

". . .what are you looking at me for?"

Spade steps closer to Trappola, a stern expression upon his face. "Do you understand your situation right now? You'll be the one expelled if you don't get a magic crystal by tomorrow morning. Like Yuu said, this is your quest. So what are we gonna do next?"

Trappola merely reclines against cool stone, resting his head upon a blunt protrusion of rock. "If you want to call it quits and go back, then go back. I didn't ask you guys to tag along."

"But the Headmaster did," you say, "So our next course of action remains in your hands."

"What's your call, wind weasel?" Grim yawns, "You gonna give up and let us sleep or what?"

"Don't call me that, and stop asking me what to do," Trappola grumbles. "It's really starting to tick me off."

A tense silence befalls you four. They are tired, and you need to heal. As you all sit recuperating, fatigued and planless, the earth trembles.

"Told ya you should have eaten," Grim mutters.

"That wasn't me." 

". . .that wasn't your belly?"

Another tremor. The monster hops off you and onto the ground, flames low. You and Trappola rise as he and Spade grab their wands. You take up Spade's extinguished torch but don't relight it lest its flickering fire attracts unwanted attention.

". . .on't. . . . ..ive. . . .wo. . . ."

The voice echoes hollow and distorted through the cavern. Its shadow looms against the moonlight beyond your hiding place, a figure large and lurching with a head of transparent glass filled with a thick fluid.

"Sstonesss. . . . .mine. . . . .. ."

In low tones, Spade questions what it is, Grim demands you all leave, Ace latches on to its words- and you stand there, transfixed.

How strange. . .your blood is singing.

You leave the cover of the boulder as voices protest so very far away. What towers before you is a gargantuan creature of taint. It leaks taint from a glass-bottled head, it is taint everywhere below that, viscous, inky limbs oozing from a tattered robe to wield a lantern and pickaxe.

Your blood, filled with taint from all the cumulative cuts, stirs at the sight of something alike.

The creature sees you, despite its lack of eyes. It lunges forward, bellowing-

"Stone. .is. . . MIIIIINNEE!!!"

It has no mouth, no breath, but the sheer volume of its voice makes the ground shake.

You stare up at the terrible thing, a mockery of man and monster-

She can't see it. She can't see this. You'll do away with it, show it the kindest mercy by putting it out of its misery -

"I don't care for your stones," you say softly, knives slipping into your fingers. "But could you lend your lantern? It seems I've lost my light."

It doesn't comprehend, too robbed of soul and mind and form as it lifts its pickaxe.

"WON'T! GIVE!"

You raise your knives as its weapon comes down-

And your cheek scrapes against stone as you're tackled to the ground. The deafening crash of iron against earth rings but a span from your head.

"The hell are you doing?!" a red-haired boy -Trappola, Ace Trappola- roars over you.

You barely shove him aside before the pickaxe slams down again. There's a blinding pain, a scream as it pierces skin and muscle and sinew-

But not bone.

Your knives would have worked.

Your knives would have worked.

As you pull yourself to your knees, a blue-haired boy and a flaming cat- Deuce Spade, Grim- block the monster from view. The boy fires a cauldron that leaves cracks on the crystal cranium of the creature. The monster breathes a ball of flame that engulfs its glass head with fire. Still, instead of sagging defeated to the ground, the taint in its head combusting, the giant merely staggers back. Dark liquid spiderwebs through the cracks of its glass to mend it.

You gather your scattered knives, your amputed torn arm protesting all the while with hot pulses of pain.

You knock back a knife in your good hand. If you can just hit the weakened center of its fractures-

"Sorry, Yuu!" Spade's pulling you back by the back of your shirt. He doesn't stop pulling, dragging you along now as he and the others make a run for it.

"Release me-!"

"You think your dinky little knives stand a chance against that thing?!" Grim, Great Grim, yells.

"Stop talking and move!" Trappola shouts.

He wordlessly summons a gale just as Spade passes him with you in tow. The attack barely inconveniences the tainted giant but claws at the walls, kicking up sediment and clouding the air in some semblance of cover. Trappola takes the lead again, guiding you four through the mine, and ever-so-often Grim glances back to make sure Spade has you following.

The way out is steep, and as you reach the end of the tunnel, Spade lets go. When the welcome sight of moonlit ground glimmering through the doorway comes into view, Grim ceases to look back. You slow, then stop, eyes scanning the walls.

~ ~ ~

Almost there- almost-!

Grim stumbles on a loose plank of wood, but quickly regains his footing to hop to the next one. His heart's pounding in his chest, blood roaring in his ears.

That Crowley guy was crazy if he wanted you guys to fight that-

With a final leap, Grim makes it out of the mine. He takes a deep breath, reveling in the sweet scent of grass filling his lungs, but they ain't out of the woods yet, better get as far away from that thing as possible. Grim looks down, Deuce is offering his arm-

"C'mon, I'll help you u- w-wait, what are you doing? Yuu-!"

The student disappears from view. It takes a second for Grim to realize Yuu must have run back, the idiot, and Deuce followed- he snarls in frustration as the firehead groans-

The ground shakes. It's not the trembling from the monster's staggered strides but a continuous, crashing rumble. Deuce returns, rushing out of the mine, collapsing on the ground. He pants, kneeling and covered in light debris-

And he's alone. Grim turns to the entrace but all that rises from it is dust.

"Where's Yuu?" Grim demands, heart somehow hammering even harder as he whirls to Deuce. "Where's Yuu?"

The student lifts his head, blue eyes meeting Grim's. "They. . .they cut the pillars, ran deeper in. . ."

Grim dashes into the mine to get to the dummy called Yuu only- only he can't-

Boulders block his path, fill his sight. Snapped support beams jut out from stone and earth.

He can't get in, Yuu can't get out.

Yuu's trapped with that monster.

Chapter Text

It all happened so fast. He got out, the raccoon got out, even Deuce was getting out and helping Yuu like the goody-two-shoes he was, when-

Ace looks at the entrance of the mine, the doorframe still intact as dust settles. Either the tree roots are keeping its form, or the golem broke the supports deeper in. Whatever they did, it was enough to drive Deuce out of the mine. The golem has a death wish. It must have a death wish, to walk so easily into danger, to seal itself in with that faceless monster. The cat might have a death wish too to go down there so soon after a collapse. . .or maybe they're both just dumb. 

Either way, is it really his problem now?

Deuce is still in shock, still on the ground. Ace wants to join him, give his legs a break, but if he does that he might just shut down completely from exhaustion.

"Get up," Ace says, and when the student doesn't move, again, harsher, "Get up."

Deuce blinks. Gets up. "Right," he mutters, "Right, we can't just sit around. We should- we have to find a way back in-"

"Are you crazy? We're not fighting that thing."

Teal eyes fill with shock, then indignation. "So what huh? You want to run off like a coward?!"

. . .is the guy trying to be intimidating? Really? Cause right now, it's just getting on his nerves.

"Yeah," Ace says. "Run away, leave them be. If you want to help, Mr. Serious, then let's get actual help. . .unless you have a better plan?"

Deuce clenches his fists, clenches his teeth. "We- we can't just leave-"

"Why not?"

"Why not? You-!" He's trembling with anger now- "How can you say that? Yuu saved you down there! Don't you have any shame?"

Ace takes a deep breath, then beams bright as he brings up his hands. "Alright. You want to see who owes who what? Fine by me!"

"They saved me, after I saved them, after they went out in the open to confront that thing like an idiot. You want to go further back? We're at these damn mines because I threatened them, because their stupid cat went after me, because I attacked them, because they threatened me. And for what? For listening to a stupid conversation that didn't even hurt them. They could have shooed me away or said something, but no, they shoot a knife at me instead! So this is their problem now!"

The guy tries to say something else, but Ace is having none of it.

"Besides!" Ace says, digging his hands in his pockets for the mirror with the return spell. "Yuu said it, didn't they? 'I'm expendable' - so, consider them expended, consider me expelled, and let's get out of here before that monster comes looking for us."

The cold metal of the compact is a welcome sensation against his fingers. Ace happily fishes it out. Sure, his family will be disappointed that he got booted from NRC so soon, but could anyone really blame him for not wanting to stay? This NRC wasn't the school his brother had enjoyed- this NRC has a creepy flesh golem, a careless fire monster, and a crazy headmaster. They'd understand, right?

"So Juice," Ace calls, "Are you coming with, or-"

He's cut short when the mirror's yanked out of his hold by an unseen force (in the corner of his eye, he sees Deuce's pen pointed at him).The compact flies out of his hands, lands on it side, and begins rolling away. He stares at it for a moment, then the reality of the situation sinks in and he screams-

"GET THAT THING BEFORE IT FALLS INTO THE STREAM!"

Ah yes, the bubbling brook shimmered under the moonlight as it wound around the woods. Ace had no idea if the current was strong enough to carry the mirror downstream but he did not want to find out. Certainly, the shiny metal would be a pain to find amidst the glossy pebbles if it did fall.

Ace would be screeching at Deuce, incoherent with anger, if he weren't panicked and preoccupied by the compact rolling away. Deuce, passing the lowest bar of decency, doesn't yell at him but runs like hell as well. They chase the mirror as it rolls, rolls, rolls towards the stream, and wouldn't that be a way to cap his night, stranded in the woods with idiots and monsters and idiot monsters-

Here lies Ace Trappola, his tombstone would say, NRC was a mistake.

But by some miracle, some olympian mercy, the mirror curls away from the brook. The compact moves in an arc before spinning to a stop upon steady, flat ground. He and Deuce both let out a breath of relief, then he has Deuce by the lapels of his uniform jacket as he violently shakes him.

"Are you complete idiot?!" he hisses. "Do you want to be stuck here all night?"

"I-I was just trying to stop you!"

"From what? Getting help?"

"From running off!" Deuce shouts. "Yuu's not the only one at fault here, so take some responsibility, damn it!"

"I already did," Ace spits, "I pushed them out of the way, remember?  Didn't have to, but I did. I also got rid of those ghosts that were chasing us, and who was it that got us out of the mine? Oh right- me. So I think I've done my part!"

He lets Deuce go after that. The student steps back, still glaring at him. "Yuu could die-"

"Like they'll go that easy." Ace scoffs. "Besides, they said they heal-"

"That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

The fire monster said that. It's here now, the compact pinned under its paw. It glares up at the two of them. 

"Grim," Ace says slowly, "Great Grim, why don't you give that back? I'll give you a lot of tuna if you do."

It continues to glare. Then, it takes the mirror in its mouth and rushes away.

As he's caught in his second chase of the night, Ace reaches an all-time high for the number of times he curses in a day. If his parents could hear him, the swear jar would be filled to the brim with his savings. 

When he finds the raccoon, it sits primly near the entrance of the mine once more. The mirror is gone, but its paws are covered in dirt. 

"Did you drop it into the mine?!" Deuce exclaims, horrified and horrifying him as well.

"Huh," the monster says, tilting its head. "Didn't think of that. Nope! Just buried it."

"Alright then," Ace says, gripping his pen so hard he thinks it might break, "Where did you put it?" 

It shrugs. "Maybe here, maybe there, I dunno. Help Yuu and I'll dig it out for ya."

"And if I don't?"

"I'll get to it first, and-" the gremlin smirks. "I'll melt it."

. . .it takes every fiber of Ace's being not to strangle the creature or to blast it to high heaven on the spot.

Deuce, for all his talk of wanting to help, also does not look pleased at this development.

"Do you have your phone?" Ace asks, and his fellow student searches his pockets for a moment before pausing.

"No I. . .I left it in my room. . .I thought I'd focus better without it. . ."

Ace had left his phone in his room because of his rude awakening and rush to leave the dorm and its little tyrant of a prefect. So, they're stuck without a form of contact, their way home held hostage by a stupid raccoon. 

Great, just great.

~ ~ ~

Grim watches the firehead march off into the woods before screaming for a good long while. When he comes back, he looks tired. Angry, yeah, but mostly tired. 

He looks at Deuce with dead eyes. "I'm guessing you'd rather listen to this runt than help me find the mirror?"

The blue-haired guy silently (and sheepishly) looks away. Good. Seeing as he isn't quite an amazing wizard yet, the Great Grim needs all the help he can get.

"Do you even have a plan?" the redhead asks.

"I'm workin' on it," Grim replies, trying to get his thoughts to go beyond the basic 'get Yuu out of there'. He's considering digging under all that debris clogging the way in when Deuce speaks up.

"Do you think they'd leave?" 

Grim tilts his head at him. The boy frowns. "When Ace saved them and they got back up, they just tried to attack that thing again. The moment I let go, they. . .they ran back. No hesitation. If we do find a way back in and get to Yuu, how are we gonna get them to follow us to the exit?"

". . .can ya knock 'em out?" Grim suggests. "A good bonk to the head with one of your pots oughta do it-"

"That might not work if they heal fast enough," the redhead says, "Which leaves us with. . .having to remove the danger instead."

Grim gulps. "So. . .fighting that faceless, inky thing."

". . .yeah," the student says. "Still want to save 'em?" 

Grim's paws dig into the ground, flame and tail annoyingly low. That monster is. . .dangerous. . .very dangerous. It's big and bad and scary and makes his insides scream run run run- 

But he can't- he can't just leave Yuu like that, facing that terrible thing by themself.

"I owe 'em enough," Grim says. "This'll make it even."

The redhead- Ace- sighs. "No changing your mind, huh?" He rubs the back of his neck, looking at nothing in particular for a while, then he kneels. He smooths out the ground with his hand, then picks up a stick nearby and begins to draw in the dust.

Grim's tail perks up. Some kind of magic spell maybe?

"Is that a magic circle?" Deuce asks, awed.

"I wish," Ace huffs. "It's a map. We passed by a bunch of caverns earlier. A couple had a bunch of openings in them, right? First thing we we need to do is find way in so. . ."

~ ~ ~

. . .it's strong, this monster.

You're hiding under an outcropping of stone, watching taint ooze from your leg. Black curls around the exposed, bent femur and you grimace as it forces it down to shape. Thinner tendrils rise over it to string and stitch your muscles and skin back together. You breathe slowly, in, and out. . .

Physical pains aside, your blood and brain are screaming. You want to drain the taint, pierce an artery and empty yourself of the heaviness swirling within you- 

But you're lightheaded enough as is.

"Leave. . .LEAVE!!!"

You lower your head, hopefully obscuring yourself from the giant's eyeless view. It's in worse shape than you, its body covered in slashes beneath its tatyered robe, its head full of fractures. The damage is mending yes, black stretching across its injuries the way yours are, but the recovery is much slower. It's a foolish endeavor to want take down such a monster by yourself, but you know you can outlast it, you just-

Your freshly-healed leg is put under strain as you're yanked into the air. 

It found you.

You writhe, trying to pull yourself up-

Too slow.

You're slammed against the ground. Blood spurts from your mouth as bones disconnect, mutilating muscles and piercing skin as they're displaced. You gasp for air, vision blurring, and you somewhat regret breaking its lantern earlier. It has a free hand now and the resulting darkness hasn't been as much of a boon as you hoped it would be. . .how foolish of you, when you could've just shattered it later. Idiot.

As it raises its pickaxe, you realize you can't move. Your spine must be damaged. You will your hand to be healed first and you weakly move it over your chest. You got lucky before- the oversized weapon glancing off your ribs instead of smashing through them. Like this, you won't be able to throw a knife for a while, but-

The monster roars. You wonder if your eardrums have ruptured yet from all its cries.

. . .what a strangely pretty sight you have above you, the giant swinging its pickaxe, the metal glimmering under the moonlight as patched cloth sways from its momentum. Its glass head shines in starbursts from its fractures, fragments of glass sparkling in the air. And there of course is the taint, contrasting it all with its inky darkness, the moonlit parts reflecting the red and black from fabric and stone and even the blue glow from the flaming cauldron that rams into i-

Wait, wait-

A cauldron, its metal glowing red from the heat yet shrouded in blue flames, crashes into the giant. Knocked off-balance, the monster stumbles back, its cap aflame. Another cauldron comes hurtling through a hole in the cavern ceiling to strike the monster.

You force yourself up the moment you regain feeling in your limbs. As you dash about to collect a fallen knife here and there, you catch heads of red and blue peering down through a hole right above you. They frantically gesture at you to move and you do so just as the burning giant lurches after you- 

A cauldron crashes through the gap to pin the monster behind you to the ground. Another cauldron falls, and another, and another, no longer aflame but plentiful as they pile atop the tainted giant. The monster smolders upon the earth.

You hear laughter, shocked and triumphant, and you look up in surprise at those above. They're beaming, the lot of them.

Then the smiles stop.

"Mine. . ." 

The giant's moving, struggling beneath its load. A cauldron slides off. 

You dash to its fallen pickaxe and break through the wood. It's light enough to heft the over your shoulder now, with some strain, and you aim the iron point at the monster's vial.

"Stone. . .mine. . ."

. . .within the monster's head, you almost see a face in a viscous taint. A moaning, oozing face pressed against the broken glass.

You hesitate for a moment, but only for a moment. You angle the iron edge a little better, to lance the being within through the eyes. 

"May you find what you seek," you say, "May you find peace."

You drive the pickaxe down, shattering glass as you strike true. The being screams as you pierce it, gurgling, bubbling as claws of taint reach for you-

Then it falls. Dormant, then dead. 

You drop the pickaxe head, breathing deep as you watch its taint melt. The dark fluid is more liquid now as it pools onto the ground around you like a puddle of your own black blood. It thickens beneath the soles of your feet, sticky, hungry, and you are oh so tired. . .

There's the sound of rushing wind, a crash behind you, an "oomph" and an "ouch" as a cauldron settles upon the ground. Out of the gleaming black pot comes a monster and a red-haired boy. The latter climbs out of it, the former jumps, high above a blue-haired fellow shouts, "YOU GUYS OKAY?"

The boy on the ground makes a gesture at him, a fist with the thumb pointed skywards. The one above returns the gesture and disappears.

"The mirror better be where you said it is," the boy snaps at the creature. 

"Yeah, yeah," the monster replies just as sharply, then its gaze settles on you. 

You blink at it. ". . . Grim."

"Great Grim," he snips as he strides towards you. When he makes it to your feet, he gives you a kick in the shin.

". . .ow," you say politely, because that seems like the right thing to say.

The monster huffs. "You're a real bad henchman, making us come back here for ya. Lucky for you, you've got a great boss!"

For a while, you just look at the Grim, the creature puffed up and proud. . .at last you you bow.

"Thank you for the aid, Great Grim." Your eyes drift to the boy still standing by the cauldron. "Thank you, Sir Trappola." 

The student averts his gaze and turns to one of the tunnels.

"Yeah yeah you're grateful now c'mon," he says gruffly. "Let's get out of this dump."

~ ~ ~

Deuce waits at the entrance of the mines, mirror in hand. It had been buried beneath the third tree from the left of the mine, marked by a pile of pebbles and a tiny X scratched into the tree bark above it, just as Grim said.

Deuce waits, and he wishes he could've lifted the cauldron back up after helping Ace and Grim down in it. Perhaps then he wouldn't be waiting so anxiously. He's too tired though- carefully lowering a cauldron with two bodies was taxing enough with Ace using some vertical wind magic to help slow the descent. 

So now, Ace is leading Yuu and Grim out through another opening. Hopefully he hasn't murdered them. Hopefully Yuu hasn't murdered him. Hopefully no one's murdered each other, and he can go back to NRC with a fellow student, a golem, and a monster, all whole like the headmaster wanted.

There's a rustling over the entrance. Deuce brandishes his pen just in case another monster comes because he wouldn't be too surprised if such a thing were to happen tonight, but the only monster to appear is Grim. The creature jumps down and lands on his feet. Deuce lowers the pen as Ace and Yuu appear from behind the tree and descend a little more cautiously. Grim and Ace look fine, if a little dirty. As for Yuu. . .

Well, it's easier to see them now. They're not moving like anything's broken, but their clothes are tattered and they're covered in dirt and red-black-burgundy stains. Deuce looks away before he can dwell any longer on the dark, grimy spots that look too much like blood spatters.

"Got the mirror?" Ace asks.

Deuce raises the compact in an answer.

"Good," Ace sighs. "Let's go home."

"Let's," Deuce nods, but just as he opens it-

"Wait," Yuu says, and as glad as he is to see Yuu okay (relatively okay anyway) a surge of annoyance washes over him at the pause. . .at least until he remembers how they vomited blood after the earlier trip through the mirror, and then the compact just feels heavy in his hand. 

"Yuu, you might want to uh, brace yourself?" 

Yuu blinks at him, then winces. "Ah. Right. That. Well, before we return-" 

Their hand disappears into a pocket and they bring out a red stone. It glows faintly beneath the dark smudges covering it. They hold it out to Ace.

"Please take this and present it to the Headmaster,"  they say.

Deuce frowns at it. Grim squints, craning his neck.

Ace makes a face. "What's-?"

"The stone from the giant's lantern. It's. . . not quite right, I know, the size and color are incorrect, but perhaps. . ." they look away. "At any rate, it does emit light."

Ace looks at it, at Yuu too, then the redhead sighs. He takes the crystal and pockets it.

"I guess it's better than nothing," he says, muttering it so softly Deuce barely hears it at all.

"I apologize for all the trouble," Yuu says. 

"It's f. . ." Deuce smile falters. "It's- well, what's done is done."

"And hey! We got to beat a big bad monster," Grim grins smugly. "Cool way to kick off the Great Grim's career as a master magician, huh Henchman?"

". . .that was pretty badass," Deuce admits, 'cause the creature's enthusiasm is kind of infectious. How many people could say they defeated something like that as a student?

"Badass schmadass, let's just get back so I can get expelled," Ace grumbles, but Deuce thinks there's the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Ready?" Deuce asks Yuu.

They nod. They all stand together as Deuce commands the mirror to return them to Night Raven, and you know, maybe things would be fine after all.

Chapter Text

Dire Crowley liked to think that he was a man of his word. Still, despite his earlier decision to forego optimism entirely, especially in matters involving the golem, the concept had not been so thoroughly ingrained in him as to think that sending two fellows who recently assaulted each other, a rash if well-meaning other student, and a fire monster to the abandoned Dwarfs' Mine together was a bad idea.

. . .alright, if you put it like that, that does seem like one of the worst ideas known to man, but you see, it clearly did not seem so at the time. Though the mine had long been abandoned, it had been constructed by dwarves, so potential danger from structural issues was negligible. Having already caused quite a bit of trouble, all involved had incentive to bear with each other for the task ahead. Surely nothing too intense would arise from a little excursion. They would wander, they would search, they would eventually give up and return. It would be a nice little exercise in toleration (and, he dared to hope, cooperation).

However, time ticks by, and still the students do not come back, empty-handed or otherwise. It is much too late, the sun having set hours ago, and the Headmaster finds himself pacing the Mirror Chamber, chin in clawed hand. Perhaps he should've let Ortho follow them as the younger Shroud had so cheerfully offered.  The little Ignihyde already had an interest in monitoring the golem, having been the one to report the earlier incident near the Hall of Mirrors (an act the Headmaster was grateful for though the student really should stop hacking the security cameras around campus). . .but then, it would be best to keep this matter as isolated as possible, yes? Not to mention that the elder Shroud likely wouldn't take well to his little brother being made to head to abandoned mines for such purposes-

The Dark Mirror glows. Crowley promptly stops his pacing to stand cool and composed and look every bit the Headmaster of the prestigious Night Raven College. He prepares some light admonishments, even a commendation or two for their efforts, but the words die with his smile.

The relief from seeing four silhouettes against the mirror's light is positively eclipsed by the sight and scent of them. The two students are covered in dust and dirt, the monster too looks worse for wear, but his attention is most drawn by the golem. Their clothes are positively ruined- torn and drenched in their too-dark blood. They reek of ink and rust and all he can think of that he had told them, all of them, to come back unharmed.

Then Yuu doubles over, hand seizing their chest as they hack out what looks far too much like blot for his liking onto the nice polished floor that had just been cleaned of ash.

Oh Great Seven.

They head to the office instead of the infirmary, but the headmaster has a doctor ghost brought in to check up on them so that's good.

Deuce is glad to get away with nothing but some minor scrapes and light burns. Ace is in the same shape plus some cuts and minus some burns, and Grim hadn't been affected by the fire at all. Yuu, on the other hand. . .

They're fine. They've healed. They say so and they keep saying so, calmly repeating it at every exclamation the medical specter makes at their healed flesh. They're fine, but under the bright light of the headmaster's office, Yuu's stained form is easy to see, Deuce can't help but disagree-

A stained, tattered sleeve from taking a deep gash to the arm. The tear along their hip, not as bloody as the others, but ripped from the leg beneath being bent back in a way it never should have been. There, across their torso, a bloody arc from being slashed by the pickaxe. Here and there and everywhere, little things told him that the fight had not been in their favor.

It's wrong that they're okay. Yeah, he's relieved they're fine, but curse or no curse, that doesn't seem like something anyone should be able to just walk away from. Even if physically okay, their head couldn't be after all that.

"May I have a word with the them, Doctor?" the headmaster says, and suddenly Deuce wonders if he's going to be able to walk away from this.

Weren't they responsible for each other? Wasn't he supposed to help Yuu? They're not blameless, he knows, but if he kept his eye on them, if he was a bit faster, maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't have gone through all that.

The ghost leaves with a reassurance that he'd give his best shot at finding something about Yuu's mirrorsickness. They thank him for it in their polite way, then the four of them are left with the headmaster. . .Headmaster Crowley doesn't speak though. He looks at them all, at Yuu especially, as he taps his arm with the gold tips of his gloves. His black lips make a thin line of displeasure, and a few times he opens his mouth only to sigh.

At last, fed up with the silence, Ace stands up. He walks over to the headmaster's desk and slaps something on the table.

"Here's a crystal," he says with a voice rather dead and done with the world. "It's wrong, how sad, do you have a phone in here? I'd like to call home so they know I'm coming back."

The headmaster hums. "You're dropping out?"

"Dropping-? I didn't find the right rock. I'm expelled, aren't I?"

Despite everything, a smile actually creeps onto the headmaster's face. "Young man, I told you to search for a magic crystal in the Dwarfs' Mine. I never expected you to bring back anything. The moment you four left to search, the task was already accomplished."

. . .Deuce stares, and that stare becomes a glare and so does Ace's stunned gaze and authority be damned, he wonders which of them's gonna end up punching this smiling smartass first for putting them through that-

Neither of them. The answer is neither of them, because Grim promptly pounces at the masked man and only Yuu's quick reflexes stop the monster from scratching at the headmaster.

"Lemme at 'im, lemme at 'im!" Grim snarls, clawing the air so close and yet so far from the magician's face.

"Great Grim-"

"He coulda killed ya! And me! Him and his stupid monster-!

"Monster?" The headmaster actually looks surprised.

"Yep," Ace says. "It was super gross and crazy strong, at least a story high- real awful stuff. Anyway, do you have a phone-?"

"Could you explain in more detail?" the headmaster asks, genuinely perplexed as he ignores Grim's insults and accusations.

Deuce does, mostly because Ace has resigned to his phoneless fate by sullenly sitting down and Yuu's still trying to wrangle Grim into not-attacking-authority-ness. He tells the headmaster about the initial search, how they were harrassed by some ghosts before the ink-stained giant showed up. He tells him about their initial successful escape and Yuu turning back (he expects Yuu to give him a look for snitching, but their gaze is distant as they absent-mindedly stroke the head of the grumbling Grim in their lap). He tells him about the rescue, leaving out the argument between him and Ace because while wanting to help Yuu then and there did work out in the end, maybe Ace was right and getting help would have been the better choice. So you know, just leave that part out. Schumacher's cat, or whatever.

The headmaster takes a deep breath afterwards, pinches the bridge of his nose as if to stave off a headache, then narrows his eyes at Yuu.

"Yuu." The magician's tone is stern, severe.

The dull gold of their eyes meets the headmaster's.

"You should have run when you could. You do understand that if you hadn't, perhaps these students would have come out unscathed? That you could have avoided-" he gestures at them and their terrible appearance.

". . .I believed we needed a crystal," they say carefully. "I destroyed the entrance so they wouldn't follow-"

"Did you not hear me when I told you not to put yourself in dangerous situations?"

"I said I could not guarantee-"

"You agreed to try. Could you have really not tried harder to retreat? Surely facing a monster was the worse option than fleeing."

Yuu doesn't reply. The headmaster sighs.

"You endangered not only yourself but these students and even your beast. If you lack the sense to follow even the simplest orders for your own self-preservation, how can I trust you to roam the college? If you continue to be so stubborn, perhaps it would be better if I were known as the headmaster who let you loose upon Twisted Wonder-"

"He had to die."

They say it so suddenly, so plainly, the headmaster falls silent.

"He. . .it, had to die, sir," Yuu says, voice just as soft. "It was no ordinary monster. It was not made of ink, or oil, but taint. Overtaken by it, overrun with it, it was leaking and hurting and it was suffering, sir. There was barely a soul left, just a horrible, festering thing drowning in its own toxic desires. It never should have been seen. It should have been put out of its misery much sooner. It was dangerous and doomed live on in that horrible state unless someone did something about it, so it had to die, so I killed it. Is that a sufficient explanation to warrant my actions and stay, sir?"

Yuu doesn't break eye contact with the headmaster as they speak. Neither does Crowley. The magician shifts in his seat, changing into a straighter, taller pose as he eyes Yuu the whole time. The movement's so smooth, so casual Deuce almost doesn't realize that he can't see the principal's hands anymore. Hanging from his belt, didn't the headmaster carry a whip-?

"And you," the headmaster says. "Are you not overrun with taint? With blot?"

"What's that?" Grim asks, rather oblivious to the tension in the room.

Yuu gently lifts Grim off their lap to set him on the carpeted floor. The creature looks miffed until he sees their hollow gaze. "Sir Trappola asked me something of the sort earlier. I believe it's something like taint, a substance that accumulates as a result of curses. You must understand then, sir, why the giant couldn't live on."

"You haven't answered me, Yuu."

They lift their head to the headmaster once more. "Indeed," they say. "Much of my blood at this moment is filled with taint- with blot, as you seem to call it. It's only to be expected. The curses upon my person have been working tirelessly to maintain my body. The taint will subside in time."

Blot, taint, curses- Deuce knows this, he should know this, what they entail with what he's just learned, and his head spins as he tries to piece it all together. Yuu, then, their eyes much darker, gold irises swallowed up by the surrounding black and leaving their gaze more unsettling than before- they're filled with the taint-blot-whatever like the stained giant, right? So the monster. . .wasn't always a monster? And Yuu, right now, not a monster, but also full of that gross inky stuff-

"You're going to turn into a monster too."

He blurts it out without thinking. What he's said only catches up to him now. Calling out their inhumanity like that, the giant couldn't live on, they said, sure the headmaster would agree. So Deuce- he's just- the headmaster's on edge, and a magician like him, the spells he knows-

"Unlikely," Yuu says. "Should I be overrun though, feel free to deal with me as you wish, sir."

Idiot. Idiot , don't say that, the headmage will kill -

"MAY WE GO TO THE RESTROOM?"

For the second time tonight, Deuce talks likes idiot. This time though, it's intentional. He stands, pulling Yuu up by their cold, cold wrist as he babbles.

"We- we should wash it off, right? There's taint- blot?- on their face, near their mouth too, from them fighting the monster and they should- they should probably wash that off, so they don't accidentally swallow any more, or keep breathing in the fumes since it smells so uh, yeah, may we go to the restroom, sir?"

The headmaster gives him a look that makes his cheeks flush from embarrassment, but the only way out of here is the door or the window and he can't exactly shove them out a tower. Well, he could and they might live from that, but he doesn't want to take the risk or burden upon his already-heavy conscience.

"Fine," the headmaster sighs, "But return right after. And Grim, Mister Trappola, do stay for the time being.  You two can head to the washroom if you must afterwards."

Deuce holds his breath and moves with Yuu in tow. Through the closing door, Grim watches them go, and Deuce feels a bit bad for leaving making Yuu leave him but the monster would probably prefer his friend alive too, right?

They exit the office, Deuce closes the door behind them, and okay. Okay, they're out of there, so, so now. . .well. . .could Yuu walk out, just like that-?

"Sir Spade?"

Deuce blinks. Smiles in a totally not-suspicious manner. "Oh uh, yeah?"

"You were to take me to the. . .washroom, was it?"

Deuce looks at them, and okay, maybe Yuu should go and wash up first, just in case his rambling had any merit. Also, walking out covered in dirt and blood probably wouldn't do them any favors. There was probably more privacy there in the restroom too so-

"This way," Deuce says, grabbing their hand so they don't run back to danger and damn Yuu is cold.

He hopes he can convince them to run, but if not, well, maybe he can at least get them to stop digging their own grave.

Grim reclaims Yuu's seat when they leave, mostly so he has an easier time glaring at the magician sitting in the desk before him. He crosses his paws and keeps his flickering ear flames hot and high.

"So," he drawls, "whaddya want with my henchman?"

The masked man hums.

"What would I want? I'd like them to leave," Crowley says candidly, "I'd like to toss them through the Dark Mirror and hope they don't come back, but alas- I have my integrity as an educator of the youth, and a conscience, as much as you may doubt that."

"And a reputation to uphold," Ace adds.

"Oh, but wouldn't you rather stay as a student, Great Grim?"

Grim stops glowering at the masked man. Student rings in the monster's head. Student, Great Grim, Master Magician-

"You don't mean it," Grim says. "Ya don't-"

"Oh, but I do. Giving a monster the qualifications to enroll as a student isn't quite so simple though, and you, Yuu, I mean, your Henchman, goodness what a confusing name that really is-"

"What about 'em?" Grim presses, and he hopes to high heaven he isn't gonna have to choose-

"Your Henchman will have to watch you, help you integrate. Enroll with you actually, as one student."

An unbelievable wave of relief crashes over him.

"No takebacks!" Grim says quickly. He can be a student. He is a student. Yuu's a student. And he got them a way not to clean anymore- oh, he sure owes 'em nothing now!

"And this concerns me how?" Ace asks, because right, he's in here too.

The masked man smiles in a manner much too serene. "Well, Mister Trappola, though I've rescinded your expulsion, that doesn't mean that I can ignore your actions entirely. Even negating the incident by the statues, there is the matter of you skipping class, and on the first day no less! Such blatant disrespect towards your teachers surely deserves a deduction to your conduct grade. . . to say, about sixty-one percent, and sixty- oh dear, that is the failing grade, isn't i-"

"Pass."

"Hmm?"

"Hard pass," Ace says. "I'd rather drop out than deal with whatever you're gonna offer to boost my grade. This-?" he gestured around himself "And them-?" he pointed at the door. "Not worth it!"

"Are you certain?" Crowley asks, "Do you really, really wish to known as the student who quit Night Raven College on the first day? What would your peers say, your parents? What about your brother?"

Ace crosses his arms, fists clenched though his face remains passive.

The magicians tuts. "What school would accept a student who couldn't handle NRC for even a day? The lack of perserverance and initiative. . .well, I suppose some institutions might take you. But think of the future! Surely, NRC would be a much more welcome sight on the resume of your future workplace-"

"Fine!" Ace says bitterly. "Since you're so concerned, I guess I have to stay! So what exactly do you want me to do, oh gracious Headmaster?"

. . .Grim gulps. He didn't ask what Crowley wanted, did he? The Headmaster smiles, and Grim can't help but think of large, predatory birds with their sharp eyes and sharper claws.

Sir Spade's patience with you adds him to your growing list of kind individuals in this place. The moment he sees you having some trouble with the bandages upon your hands, he helps you unwrap the soiled cloth. He tells you, rather politely, that the tap water might not be the best thing to drink when he realizes you're swallowing the handfuls you lift to your mouth. He explains as best he can about the sink and lights when you ask, and after the brief lesson on plumbing and electricity, he suggests that maybe you should consider running for your life.

You glance at him then, wondering if he's jesting, but his eyes are sincere.

"I apologize if my presence discomforts you," you say after a moment.

"Discom- What? No. No, it's not like I want you to go, I mean, I do, but- but only because you- because Crowley- agh, he's the Headmaster, Yuu! He's gotta protect the school, and if you turn into a monster here. . . you should leave while you can!"

There's fear in his eyes, but it's fear for you. How strange.

"I understand your concerns," you say slowly, "But I-"

A burden seems to lift from his shoulders as he immediately heads for the door. "Good. Great! I'll tell them you need more time-"

"But I cannot, Sir Spade," you say firmly.  "I am bound to the Headmaster and this academy. Dire Crowley holds the best means of returning me to my world. Unless you can operate the Dark Mirror better than he and send me to a place that apparently doesn't exist, I must stay and I must serve, so I will."

Spade stares at you for while, then he slumps. He runs a hand through his hair.

"Another world, huh?" he murmurs. "Well that explains you being so clueless, I guess. . .fine, if you can't leave then, could you just. . .try?"

"Try?"

"Try to not talk about the blot- the taint? Ah whatever- just try, please, to seem less. . . that. Tone it down. Don't talk about being a monster, or about being cursed, and listen to the headmaster. I'd. . . like it if you didn't die."

(I'd like it if you didn't die, she'd say, fear palpable behind her attempt at a soft smile.)

"Thank you for your concern, Sir Spade. I will. . .try. . .to heed your advice."

He doesn't seem all too convinced, likely due to your failures at your last attempt at trying, but he holds the restroom door open for you instead of running off to distract the headmaster. You two walk in silence back to the office, and the boy seems rather despondent.

"Sir Spade?"

"Yeah, Yuu?"

"If it's any comfort, I doubt the Headmaster can kill me."

He manages a laugh. "Yeah, huh? You weren't scared of that ink monster at the mine, figures you wouldn't be scared of some old mage either."

 ~ ~ ~

. . .it could be worse. It really could be, all things considered.

Yuu comes back with Deuce and Ace wonders whether he should try to be chummy yet, just to make things easier. . .nah, too soon, obviously too soon, so he doesn't smile but doesn't glare at them either. It's a start, right?

Grim greets them with much more enthusiasm. "Hey henchman, guess what?"

Yuu looks at the runt. "What?"

"Thanks to Great Grim's awesome magic, you get to be a student!" The monster grins as he shares the news, forked tail swaying excitedly behind him.

Yuu blinks again. Turns to the headmaster. "I'm sorry, what is he-?"

The magician smiles. "It's quite as he says. You can be a student of Night Raven College if you wish, enrolling with Grim as one student. That is, if you do accept the invitation."

Grim grabs Yuu's face in his paws when they pick him up. "What he says! No more cleaning, no more chores, you just gotta be the assistant of the greatest magician in history! How about it?"

". . .I don't mind cleaning," they say slowly. "And I've never been a student before, so I'm afraid I might not be a very good helper."

"C'mon, Yuu! I'm sure it can't be that hard! I mean, if these guys can manage it, it'll be a piece of cake for us two!"

Ace elects to ignore the jab while Deuce doesn't seem to have registered it, too busy congratulating them. Yuu gently pries Grim's paws off their face. Their cheeks are once again smudged with dirt as they look at the headmaster. "What did this cost? I do not recall any payment."

"It will require your best behavior," the headmaster replies. "Grim's too, of course."

". . .you do not seem very pleased with my behavior as is, Sir. I do not think changing the environment will be of much help."

"Yuu!" Grim gasps. He turns to the headmaster as if in fear he'd be booted on the spot. That would be a funny sight, but alas, the magician merely smiles some more. (Ace wonders if the expression is stuck on his face the way the dead look is stuck on his.)

"I frankly doubt your ability to behave as well, which is precisely why Mister Trappola here's going to keep an eye on you. Mister Spade too, if he likes."

"You agreed to this?" they ask, creepy-af eyes on him now. "If you were coerced-"

Ace barks a dry laugh. "Oh I was, believe me. But y'know, blackmail and bribery's powerful stuff. Anyway, pretty sure I can stick with you for a bit, especially if it means I get a pass."

"Blackmai-? Bribery?"  Deuce raises a hand. "What exactly is- what's happening, sir?"

"Well Mister Spade, both Yuu and Grim need a bit of help adjusting to human society. Nothing too intensive- just someone to keep them out of trouble and teach them the language and other necessities."

"Oh! Like guiding a transfer student?" the blue-haired boy asks.

"Precisely!" nods the headmaster, looking rather pleased. "Do know your efforts won't be in vain. If you accept, it will be quite a boost to your conduct grade. More than enough to make up for today and then some. I'll also ask your teachers to be a little more lenient with you in regards to punctuality and academics since I'm rather sure incidents will occur regardless of what you do. . . So what do you say, Spade? Your kind schoolmate here's already agreed to it!"

"Unfortunately," Ace mutters to no one in particular.

"Of course I accept!" Juice exclaims, because of course he does.

"Excellent!" the headmaster says, "Though, there is the matter of all this all hinging on whether Yuu here does agree to be a student."

Deuce and Grim both turn their pleading blue eyes to Yuu. Ace rolls his red ones.

"I suppose," they say slowly, "With all the boons you three will receive if I do accept. . .I can't refuse."

"Yahoo!" Grim cheers before guaranteeing that he'll definitely, absolutely, make Yuu glad for their decision.

Deuce continues to grin like an idiot. Figures, since he's so buddy-buddy with them already.

Ace stifles a yawn and ignores the looks sent his way.

The headmaster rises with a grin, likely sensing the end of this long night the way Ace is. "Well then, I shall give the symbol of one's status as a student of Night Raven College, a magestone, to Grim!"

He waves a hand, there's a flash of light-

Ace snaps awake as Yuu jolts up, their chair knocked backwards, their hands grasping at the ribboned collar fastened about their neck like a choker. Their dead eyes are a little less dead as they look at the headmaster with subdued panic.

"Sir?"

Ace stands up too. Backs away. What the hell-

Crowley blinks, looking just as bewildered as he glances between the monsters. "What?- the collar- Grim was-!"

That's as far as he gets before the black crystal on Yuu's neck shatters.

~ ~ ~

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .he does not want to think about this. He will not think about this any further.

"Out."

The students, four of them now (three by official count but that's besides the point), turn to him. Some are a little more blot-splattered than others from the inky fragments of the expensive crystal that once adorned the collar on Yuu's neck. All look at him with some degree of confusion.

"Out," Crowley says again, and when they remain, he brandishes his whip, wraps them all in a bundle (gently, of course), and tosses them out of the office (a little less gently, but that's to be expected when tossing anyone out of anything).

"My graciousness knows no bounds!" he says with such strain that even he can hear it. "It is quite late, we will talk in detail tomo. . .in the future. Return to your dormitories!"

He slams the door shut. After a moment of murmurs and mumbling and grumbling, he hears the students pick themselves up and go on their way. Dire Crowley goes on his own merry way to sit behind his desk, open a locked compartment behind a panel near his feet with one of his many keys, and retrieve a bottle of his favorite Merlot.

~ ~ ~

"Is anyone going to talk about what just happened?"

"I'm stuck with your serious mug as we babysit this guy for who-knows-how-long. What else is there to get?"

"I don't know!" Spade says. "Their magic crystal exploding?"

"My magic crystal exploding," Grim sulks upon your shoulder.

"I'll try to acquire a new one for you."

He huffs, warm breath tickling your neck. "How's anyone gonna know I'm a student now?"

"You were already acknowledged as a student."

"Half a student. . .couldn't you have just broken half the gem?"

You scratch his chin in what you hope is an apologetic gesture. "I'm afraid that was involuntary."

"Wait, should we worry about you breaking our stuff?" Spade suddenly asks.

You eye the red gems glinting upon his and Trappola's chests. "As long as your crysta- your magestones don't touch my person, I don't think you should be concerned."

"You think," Trappola echoes dryly.

"I'll try to avoid making contact with your persons as well."

"You'll try."

"Why don't you try to stop being a jerk," Spade says. "Even if you don't want to, we're going to end up seeing each other everyday."

"Don't remind me," he groans, but his expression brightens somewhat at the sight of the Hall of Mirrors.

"Shall I meet with you two here in the morning?" you ask as you come to a stop.

"Maybe we should pick you up from your dorm?" Spade suggests.

That would allow for a more thorough monitoring, wouldn't it? You turn to ask Trappola for his opinion, but the student's already disappearing into a mirror flanked by crowned lights with mushrooms upon its steps. 

"Very well," you say. You gesture beyond the hill. "Ramshackle Dormitory is at the end of the path. It's. . .a bit of a walk. Are you certain you wouldn't rather make the Hall of Mirrors the rendezvous?"

Spade smiles. "It's fine. A morning jog will wake me up! Well, see you tomorrow, Yuu!"

You bow. "Until morning, Sir Spade."

He gives a wave and enters the mirror, and you're left standing in the cool night air with Grim upon your shoulder. You look around the Hall of Mirrors, ladder and cleaning materials still propped against the building.

"Don't even think about it!" Grim snaps.

"I did not say-"

"No. Cleaning. We're not janitors anymore! Let's get back to the dorm and sleep! Tomorrow we start our shiny new life at Night Raven College!"

"I don't sleep," you reply, but turn away from the building and continue on your path to the dormitory. You'd rather take take the cleaning materials with you at least, to better clean Ramshackle, but you suppose it's best to let Grim upon the bed and let the creature rest first. He's had a long day after all.

Chapter Text

Ramshackle is the abandoned building at the edge of campus.  It's said to be haunted by ghosts who are friendly enough despite their penchant for pranks, and, old and decrepit though it be, it would surely make a better place to sleep than the bare ground.

It is with such thoughts that Ace heads to the rundown dorm in hopes of finding a place to stay the night. It's as he imagined, broken windows and withered lawn and the like- but also not? As he approaches,  he catches sight of white shapes flapping in the wind that turns out to be drying laundry when he gets closer. The path leading up to the doorstep looks recently-swept, and the door's locked too. He wonders if there's something valuable hidden up there in its attic. Maybe he'll take a peek later.

He knocks, hopeful that the ghosts inside can hear. If not, well, there should be a back door for a building as big as this, and if that fails too, no one's going to notice if the windows are more broken, right?

"I know it's pretty late, but can I come in?" he asks loudly in his friendliest, most pitiful voice. "Please, I got locked out of my dorm and uh, well-"

He tugs at his collar, its cold metal tight around his throat and heavy upon his shoulders. All this for a stupid tart. . .

He knocks again, just to make sure no one's home-

thmp

A soft sound to his right, a movement at the corner of his eye. He turns his head but sees nothing, so he sighs and turns back to the door to mulling over his options of Back Door or Break WindoOH SHIT HOW DID THEY GET HERE?!

That last part was internal. Externally, Ace's eyes just widened at the sight of the flesh golem now standing at his left.

"Greetings, Sir Trappola," they say as if they didn't just appear out of thin air. "You require lodging?"

". . .where did you come from?"

"The roof. Apologies if I startled you."

"You. . ." Ace squints at them, as if to make sure they aren't some sleep deprivation demon spawned from sheer fatigue. "You jumped off the roof?"

"Yes."

"And you were on the roof because. . .?"

"I was cleaning it."

"But you're not a janitor anymore."

"I am not, but Ramshackle Dormitory is mine and Grim's temporary domicile."

". . .you live here?"

They move to the door. "For the meantime, yes. Did Sir Spade not tell you?"

"He did not," Ace says, and he would have thrown his head back to glare at the heavens if the collar upon his neck didn't make doing that so uncomfortable.

"Well," Yuu says as they slide a knife between the doors and jiggle the handle, "You're free to stay as long as you need. I must warn you though- there may be vermin and there is no food save for Grim's tuna, which he is very protective of-"

The door suddenly swings inwards to reveal a ghostly face. To his credit, Ace doesn't scream. He definitely tries to, but he quickly chokes it down to merely be a near-imperceptiple squeak.

"You could just ask us to open it next time," chides a large ghost.

Yuu stares at the suddenly-open door. The knife disappears and they bow. "Thank you, Sir Ghost," they say as they step in, and Ace is pretty sure he saw the ghost shudder for the brief moment the golem unknowingly stood halfway in the spirit's spectral body.

"Will you be coming in, Sir Trappola?"

Ace blinks. Yuu's holding the door open. The ghost raises a brow at him expectantly.

A petty part of him wants to say no thanks and walk off. The tired, wiser part of him tells him to deal with it, and this part wins. Pettiness already got him in trouble earlier.

Yuu closes the door as he looks around. The walls are bare and peeling, but clean. Still looks dated and empty though.

"Nice place," he says, whether sarcasm or to get into their good graces, he isn't entirely sure.

"You can thank the ghosts for that," Yuu says, just as the ghost smugly intones "I should hope so! We've been sprucing it up all day!"

"Wait here, please," they say, gesturing to what might have once been a lounge before disappearing down the hall.

Ace watches them go, then eyes the couch. Eh, good enough.

~ ~ ~

Normally the sound of someone pounding on a door wouldn't be enough to stir the Great Grim from his cozy, curled-up spot on the bed. Normally though, the Great Grim would be hiding in some corner of a building for shelter because its inhabitants wouldn't acknowledge his greatness, and normally, the someone at the door didn't have a voice that he quickly associated with fire-headed jerk.

Grim shakes himself awake and dashes to the window. Peering down, he can easily make out the redhead. . .wait, is that a collar around his neck?

A large dark shape suddenly falls across his vision, startling him, and startling Ace too when the guy realizes Yuu's now standing beside him.

Did. . .did his henchman just. . .from way up high. . .did Yuu jump off the roof?

Ngh, nevermind!

Grim shakes his paw. "Turn 'im out Yuu! Send 'im packing!"

"How heartless!" a ghost chuckles, misting into view.

"Mean little thing aren't ya?" grins the other specter with skeletal teeth which Grim is definitely not gonna look at nope!

"You saw the blood!" Grim snaps back.

. . .a shiver runs down Grim's spine.  The ghosts are looking at each other. They swoop to the window.

"Oh that's the fella who cut up our Goldy-eyes is it?"

"Looks like the kid's letting 'im in!"

"What?!" Grim whines. "Noooo, c'mon Yuu, grow a spine!"

"Hmm, well since he's a guest-"

"We should give him a warm welcome, ain't that right, Ronnie?"

The skeletal ghost grins once more. "I like the way you think Beau!"

They swirl through the floor and Grim leaps to get the door open so he can dash downstairs to watch the show. His ears strain for a scream, a yelp, something to tell him the ghosts were giving the student a bad time-

When he reaches the living room, the ghosts are merely glaring at the unconscious body spread across the sofa.

"What gives?" Grim demands. "Aren't ya gonna scare the daylights outta him?"

"We tried," Beau grumbles. "He's too tuckered out!"

"Dead as a log, dead to the world!" Ronnie nods.

Grim slumps in irritation, then straightens in indignation. Well if these white blobs aren't gonna take some sweet revenge, he sure will! He marches up to the couch, raises his paw over the firehead's dumb face-

"Great Grim, what are you doing?"

Of all the times-!

"Whoopsie!"
"Looks like you've been caught red-pawed!"

The ghosts fade and leave Grim scowling at thin air.

"Grim," Yuu says again, and the monster's mind races.

"I uh, I was- erm," his eyes widen.  "The collar! Yeah! I was tryna figure out how it worked! Y'know, so we could get it off him!"

He meets Yuu's steady gaze with a totally-not-suspicious grin. If they're skeptical, they don't say so. They move over and quietly look at the sleeping student.

"Sir Trappola?" they call softly. ". . .Mister Ace?"

. . .nothing. The firehead's still dead to the world as the ghosts said.

Yuu frowns as their eyes are drawn to the gem upon the student's chest. "Grim?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you carefully draw out Sir Trappola's pen without waking him?"

Grim grins for real. "Whatcha planning?" he excitedly whispers.  "Gonna break it? Gonna steal it? Red isn't really my color, but I guess a gem's a gem-"

"No, Great Grim. I do not wish to accidentally make contact with it, so may I ask you to take it temporarily?"

Grim pouts. "You're no fun."

He does what they ask though. It's easy enough to slide the pen out. The monster waves it this way and that for a moment, imagining how awesome it would be to have his own magic staff.  He'd look so cool-

"Careful, Great Grim."

Careful, Great Grim, he mouths mockingly, but he stops playing. He admires the stone after, studying the way the jewel glints. Hmm, there are smears in it though- did that come from his gem popping earlier?

The sound of creaking wood makes Grim look up. He blinks. Blinks again. "Uh henchman? What are you-?"

"Shh," they hush softly, then carefully leave the living room, a knocked-out Ace in their arms.

Grim follows the strange sight down the hall, pen in his paws. Yuu eventually enters a bedroom the door of which the big ghost opens for them. They slowly set Ace upon the bed, the head of it full of way more pillows than the Great Grim got. Unfair.

"Please place his pen upon the table," Yuu says as they arrange the cushions around the guy's neck.

Grim does so, maybe with a little more force than necessary, which makes Yuu shoot a disapproving look his way. Grim huffs before following Yuu out the door. They they close it behind him then head down the hall.

"Great Grim," they say, breaking the silence, "could you please tell me which of our hosts assisted me?"

Grim smiles a curly smile as the ghost comes into view. "Oh the big guy- Ka-e-sar, right?"

"Caesar!" booms the specter. "Not Ka-eh-sar, not Kaiser, Caesar!"

"Thank you for your assistance Mister Ka-eh-sar," Yuu says with a bow.

Grim snickers.

Mister Caesar-not-Ka-eh-sar sighs but fondly ruffles Yuu's hair as he wags a finger Grim's way. "You're lucky you're cute you little brat!"

"That I am!" Grim preens.

His henchman looks amused by his half of the exchange. They pick up the basket they had left by the door earlier in the day and glance back. "Mister Ka-ah-sar, have you needle and thread I could borrow?"

"Sure thing, kid," says the ghost, giving a thumbs-up invisible to his henchman before wisping away.

"He's on it," Grim says.

The monster watches Yuu sit on the couch and draw out a familiar red-lined jacket from the basket.

"Really? You're not just gonna tuck the jerk in, you really gotta fix his coat too?"

"I damaged the garment, it is only right that I mend it. Also, I did not tuck Sir Trappola in."

"You might as well've," Grim grumbles. "Don't ya wanna get back at him? Just a little bit?"

"He is our minder now, Great Grim. Please treat him with respect."

"Polite fellow, too polite," mumurs Caesar as he returns with a tarnished tin he places upon the table. Yuu takes it with a dip of their head in thanks.

Grim plops down beside Yuu, wondering if he can wipe his paws on the jacket without the golem noticing. "Well the day I listen to that weasel's the day the stars fall!"

Yuu hums. "So you'll listen to him by dawn?"

"What? No! Never! Stars don't fall, dummy!"

"Starfall would be sunrise, no? Starfall, moonfall, sunrise. . .do they not all mean dawn?"

"I mean when the stars actually fall outta the sky!"

". . .has that not happened before?"

"I don't mean shooting stars!"

"I'm not referring to meteors either."

Grim tries to figure out if that means Yuu's world ended, then shakes his head. Whatever. Weird guy, weird world. And speaking of Yuu's weirdness. . .

"Hey Henchman! Did you jump off the roof or what?"

"I did not jump. I merely dropped down- and I broke nothing," they add quickly, reassuringly, unrepentantly, as the other ghosts swarm in.

"You could've!" Grim snaps.

"You did what now?!" Caesar gasps.

"Goldy jumped off the roof like a tomcat-"

"They sure seem to have the lives of one- "

"Aaron, Beauregarde, don't encourage them."

"Not like they can hear, C."

"Still!"

And for the next moment it's a rather silly sight, fire monster and phantom telling off their respective housemates, but dangit Yuu you don't get to jump off rooftops, and good hosts don't encourage that sort of behavior!

This is wrong.

Ace stares mutely at the ceiling as he comes to his senses in a nest of clean sheets and a mountain of pillows.

This is wrong. This is not his room. This is not his dorm. This isn't even a couch. He's in an unfamiliar room and he doesn't know how he got there, which means he's either suffering from memory loss, perhaps from a head injury, or someone carried him in.

He thinks he'd prefer the former.

The knocking that woke him ceases (that knocking too was wrong, because no one in his house knocked before entering, and because the little red tyrant that styled himself a queen most certainly did not knock before scolding him for waking late). Footsteps fade. Ace sits up and the forgotten weight of the collar around his neck nearly makes him topple over. He doesn't, but he does notice the absence of a certain stationery from his person.

Ace tears up the bed, throws the pillows, tosses the sheets to the ground, but can't find a trace of his pen nor its gem. He almost laughs. Of course. Of course they stole his magic crystal. He's wondering if they gave it to their cat when a red sparkle catches his eye.

There his magipen lies upon the table. Unbroken. Unstolen. He ignores the prick of guilt for assumptions as he grabs the pen.

Ace eyes the mess on the ground. He tries to cast a simple spell to bring the mess upon the floor to the bed, but nothing happens.

Stupid collar.

He grabs the stuff and dumps it on the mattress, nearly tripping on a pillow and actually slipping on a loose bedsheet that dragged to the ground.

He quickly gets up and dusts himself off. No one saw that. Yes. No one saw that. Nobody at all.

After messily making the bed, Ace finds his blazer hanging from a coatrack, yesterday's tear completely missing. He dons the jacket, clips the pen to the pocket, and leaves the room. Ramshackle looks dingier in the daylight, but he couldn't care less about that when his mouth's watering at the scent of warm food filling the air. He finds himself standing awkwardly in the kitchen's doorway as the monster and three ghosts turn to him.

"Look who's finally awake!" says the ghost from last night, jolly tone not quite matching the look in his eyes.

"Good morning, Sir Trappola," Yuu says, lifting a kettle from the stove. "I apologize for moving you- changing the linens took longer than I anticipated. Your food's under the cloche."

"Don't get used to it," Grim grouches.

"You're lucky our Goldy's so nice," says another ghost.

His skinnier companion's eyes bore into him. "Bringing you to bed, bringing you breakfast-"

The largest specter laughs, eyes on his collar. "'specially since you look like a real troublemaker."

Ace turns to the golem, but they're just eating their own meal now, oblivious of their housemates' hostility.

Yuu notices his gaze but promptly look back down. "They are not my leftovers. I recall that you did not seem to want them, so I asked the staff at the cafeteria for fresh food. It is not poisoned either, if you're concerned about that."

"Stop minding him and just eat, henchman! You're too skinny."

"My weight is will not change, Great Grim."

The raccoon continues to nag as Ace cautiously sits down. Nothing on the chair pricks him. As for the food. . . beneath the metal dome is a perfectly normal meal. No bugs or worms or anything he anticipated based on the nasty looks Yuu's housemates sent his way. The food's perfectly fine. Better than he expected even, but that's probably because he hasn't had a proper meal since the other night.

"So what's with the collar?"

Grim's looking at him now with an infuriatingly smug look. Ace kind of wants to chuck the half-full glass of water he has at him.

"You had it too. What do you think it is?"

"That little red guy got ya?"

"Great Grim."

"What? I'm just curious!"

"It's none of our concern." Yuu says firmly. "Do not answer if you are not inclined to, Sir Trappola.'

He is inclined to though. Mostly because it really is stupidly unfair, and he wants to vent.

"I ate a tart," he answers.

Grim tilts his head. ". . .a tart?"

"Yep. Just that."

He tells them in more detail- there were three tarts and he only took a little- but of course Yuu's blank expression remains blank as they finish eating and their monster just gives him an unimpressed look.

"-and you guys don't care," Ace laments. "Let me guess- I deserve it?"

"If there were three tarts," Grim says thoughtfully. "Then maybe it was for some party. Like. . .like a birthday or something! Hehe the Great Grim's intuition is amazing, ain't that right, henchman?"

. . .the cat has a point, not that he'll ever admit it.

"Still though," Ace stresses. "Sealing someone's magic. . .it's like losing your head! How am I supposed to attend classes like this?"

". . .did he strike you?" Yuu asks softly.

"What? No," Ace says, "but-"

"You are fortunate then, that sealing your magic is all he did. Please try to obey the laws next time."

Absolutely no one in his corner here. What did he expect? "There are like a thousand rules," he says idly. "He's not even a real queen-"

"Ignorance of the law excuses no one, Sir Trappola, and if he holds a position of authority acknowledged by a public power, you should have obeyed. Your punishment could have been worse."

"Oh yeah? How?"

(Ace only belatedly notices the way Grim shakes his head and rapidly crosses and uncrosses his arms.)

"You could been made a bondservant," Yuu says.

He scoffs.

"You stole, so your hands could have been chopped off," Yuu continues, and Ace would have rolled his eyes, but they aren't done, speaking on with a matter-of fact tone that does not suit their words at all.

"You could have been made to remove your own arm at threat of the same happening to a loved one. You could have actually been beheaded, and slowly, at that. Your stomach could have been torn open to show your crime and your entrails hung as an example. Considering this is an academy of mages, you could be made to be conscious through all of the aforementioned ordeals. You -"

"O-kay Goldy, I think he gets the point!"

"Grim, could ya please-?"

"Alright Henchman, I think he gets it!"

Yuu stops. Ace stares.

What the fuck. What the actual fuck.

Ace glances at the remaining ghost, who also looks quite disturbed.

What the fuck. What the actual fuck, the specter's eyes say.

Alright that was messed up to them too. Good to know.

"Okay," Ace says, pushing aside his plate and trying not to think about the redness of his meal being from anything but tomatoes. "Normal people lesson time: What my dormhead did was overkill but what you said was extra overkill."

"Truly? I've seen executions for less."

For less than a tart ?

Ace wants to keep staring, as if maybe he can beam the sheer wrongness of the idea through eye contact and facial expression alone, but looking at the  blackness of Yuu's unblinking eyes is starting to freak him out.

He takes a deep breath and decides to use words. "Yeah okay don't know what's up with. . .that. . .but here?  That stuff is overkill. We don't torture people over stealing pastries, so don't talk about that stuff. Especially when people are eating."

". . .very well, Sir Trappola, I will try to keep that in mind."

There's a knock on the door as they say that. Juice's muffled voice comes through.

"That must be Sir Spade," Yuu says, rising. "Excuse me."

Grim waits until they leave to slink up to Ace and look him in the eyes.

"Henchman lesson time!" he purrs, sounding even more saccharine than the ghost did-

At least until he brings his face close to Ace's with a growl in his voice.

"Don't ask 'em stuff. Ever."

He hops off the table then, telling Yuu to wait up. Ace glances at the ghosts, wondering if they'll force him to finish his meal, but he excuses himself and leaves without issue.

Ace watches Yuu open the door for Deuce, the unbroken skin of their hands showing not a sign of last night's misadventure or possible amputations.

Ace reaches up to his collar, absent-mindedly feeling for a latch that isn't there with a hand that wasn't lopped off and that he isn't being forced to cut off.

The collar's bearable.

Annoying but bearable.

Bearable but annoying.

His world isn't whatever hell Yuu came from. His dorm leader isn't some bloodthirsty queen. If he apologized. . .

. . .ugh, it's Yuu's fault he's gonna end up saying sorry to that brat, so he'll drag them along with him. He has to watch them anyway. That's fair right?

~ ~ ~

"Good morning, Sir Spade."

"Morning, Yuu, Grim!" Deuce blinks when he sees a familiar figure leaning against the wall behind them. "New dormmate I see."

Yuu glances behind themself. "Sir Trappola's only a temporary lodger."

Ace's hand flies dramatically to his chest. "Aww, kicking me out already? What a shame. I was considering joining your sad little dorm! You only have two people, right?"

"I. . .do not think I have the official capacity to recognize your transfer," Yuu says slowly. "Nor do I know the required documentation-"

"I'm kidding."

Deuce looks between the two. Yuu's polite as ever, but Ace looks like he's warmed up to them, just a bit. He looks less terrified, at the very least.

"Dorm Head Riddle still mad?" Ace asks.

Deuce frowns  "Not really, but. . .three others did get collared for missing roll call."

"Still pissed then. Hmm, maybe I should just move to Ramshackle-"

"Nuh uh, no way!" Grim stamps the ground. "He moves in, I move out!"

"Move where?" Yuu asks, and as Grim ponders that, they turn back to Deuce. "Would you like to come in, Sir Spade? I'm afraid I've a few more tasks to be done."

Before he can respond, specters suddenly swell out from the building.

"We'll handle the dishes and dusting!"

"Leave it to us!"

"You just tell Goldy here to enjoy their school life, yeah?"

The last ghost bears an old-looking satchel and a basket in his arms. It's only when he drops them on the porch that Yuu notices the stuff.

"The ghosts say they'll do the chores," Grim says. "Which means we're free to go! C'mon, henchman! The Great Grim's gotta leave his mark on Night Raven College!"

"A metaphorical mark, I hope. Thank you, Sirs."

The ghosts smile and give more well-wishes as they wave and shut the door. Deuce smiles at the sight until Ace's sniggers take him out of the moment.

"You gonna ride that thing all day like a little kitty-cat?"

"I'm not a cat!" Grin retorts. "And you wish you were great enough to have a henchman to carry you!"

"There's nothing great about it! You just look like a lazy lump."

Grim glowers, and Deuce is a little concerned that the basket might catch fire. "Hear that Yuu? Don't carry 'im the next time the lazy lump passes out on the couch!"

Deuce glances at Ace. "Next time-?"

"Nevermind that! If the prefect's going to stick around to make sure no one loiters. . .he's still going to be at the dorm, right?"

"Probably?"

"Let's go to Heartslabyul then. I gotta get this dumb thing off before classes start."

Deuce gives him a wary look. "Don't make another scene-"

"I'm just gonna apologize for eating the tart."

". . .You? Apologize?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

. . .this is Ace Trappola, isn't it? Ace-too-proud-to-wash-a-window Trappola?

"Just. . .didn't really think you could-"

"Compared to everything yesterday and the fact that we have to look after this guy for the indefinite future? Saying sorry to that twerp is nothing."

"We're gonna watch it right?" That came from Grim as he and Yuu trail behind. "Seeing Ace say sorry should be fun!"

"Oi, it's not gonna be a show, you runt!"

"I would rather not watch it regardless," Yuu says. "I would like to avoid mirror travel if possible."

. . .and he forgot about that. Again. Deuce wonders if he should keep a notepad or something to keep track of things about Yuu. Flesh golem, other world, cursed, can't use mirrors-

Grim looks up at him. "Will it be hard for 'em to get around like that?"

"Getting to classes should be fine," Deuce says. "Getting to the other dorms though. . ."

Yuu's dressed in clothes unspotted by blood. Deuce would like to keep it that way. Did the doctor find anything to help with that yet? It's only been a few hours. . .could they just. . .avoid visiting the other dorms completely? Ramshackle dorm, from what he saw of it, doesn't seem very safe. They could study in the school library, but what if there was an emergency? How would they get him or Ace then? They barely know about electricity, so they definitely don't have a phone-

"I can stand mirror travel if necessary," Yuu says. "If it is best that I accompany you to. . . Heartslabyul, was it? I am willing-"

"Don't," Ace says sharply. "You get in trouble, we get in trouble. How do you think the Headmaster's gonna react if he learns you threw up blood today, huh? That'll be on us."

"I could wait in the Hall-"

"Can't watch you like that," Ace cuts in. "And I'm not getting yelled at for not doing my part if Mr. Serious here stays while I go.  I'll just deal with this later. Classes shouldn't need magic yet anyway. Let's just head to the infirmary to see if the doc found you anything yet."

Deuce stares at Ace and his surprising thoughtfulness. Dopplegangers are a thing right? People who look like other people, but act just a bit off-

"Quit looking at me like that! If the dorm head's still mad, I'd rather wait for him to cool off."

"Sure, sure," Deuce says, turning away so the guy can't see his smile.

Chapter Text

Divus Crewel loathes lateness.

It is a sign of poor character and of poor discipline. To hear Crowley tell him to anticipate no less than three students of it on the first day and let it go irked him greatly, but what else the headmaster managed to share before going to lie down did intrigue him as well.

Seeing them now, this Yuu fellow. . .they're rather well put together for a thing made of corpses. The length of their dark hair was cut poorly but is currently combed and tied into a neat ponytail, their clothes are worn as well as the dated, ill-fitted things can be, and even their posture is fittingly meek and reserved for someone late for class.

They also reek of the infirmary and ink, but he tucks that thought away for later.

"I've been informed that you have a certain condition," Crewel says. "Know that while I will be considerate of your situation, I will not tolerate you or your companions using it as an excuse to cut my classes."

"Yes, sir," Yuu answers immediately, the rest of their group only following murmuringly after.

"I would like to see you after class. For now, be seated."

They glance around the room, looking a bit lost. Their blue-haired companion has to step up and guide them to the remaining row of empty seats.

Crewel clears his throat to get the whispering class's attention. "To reiterate, I am Divus Crewel. I will be your homeroom teacher for Alchemy and Potions as well as your instructor in other science classes. You may call me Master Crewel. If you are late to this class, even with founded reasons, I expect you to catch up on your own. On to belladonna. Although its juice has been used for both sedation and as a painkiller, the toxicity of this flower should not be forgotten. . ."

The black-haired student diligently takes notes out of the corner of his eye, a quill (?) waving with their words. At the end of the class, they even walk up to him unprompted.

"Master Crewel," they say politely. "You wished to speak with me?"

Truly, this is the mutt giving Crowley a migraine?

"Correct, pup," he says. "Now, are those two required to watch you at all times?"

The student glances behind themself. Their beast slinks closer to them, the blue-haired one's eyes dart between him and Yuu in concern, and the redhead stands disinterested.

Yuu turns back to him. (He catches their eyes beneath their fluttering hair, what a curious sight indeed). "I do not believe so, Master Crewel."

"I will speak with you in private then."

Soon their two and half shadows are waiting outside the room. Crewel sheds his coat, grabs a notepad from his desk, then after a moment, sets down his pointer-wand in favor of a pen and measuring tape. "I don't suppose Crowley gave you those clothes?"

"No, Master Crewel."

"Of course he didn't," Crewel sighs, "Walking around without a uniform is unacceptable. Take off that bag, I'll be taking your measurements."

They comply. They're perfectly silent and perfectly still as he encircles them. With their silence and complexion and glassy gaze, he can't help but liken them to a mannequin. . .or a corpse. He supposes the latter isn't entirely untrue.

"Are you breathing at all?" Crewel asks idly. "Do you need to breathe?"

"I cannot perish from suffocation," they answer quietly, "But not breathing would be. . .uncomfortable."

"Much like Crowley was when you choked him the other day then."

The statue remains a statue- they keep their head bowed, they don't protest or flush in the slightest from the mention of the incident.

"Well aren't you a serious pup, " Crewel mutters. He jots down the breadth of their shoulders and moves on to their arms. They stretch them out immediately.

"Crowley mentioned you have some sensitivity to magic due to a curse. . .and some form of recovery due to others?"

"Yes, Master Crewel."

"I can't say I know how precisely you'll manage in my classes, considering interacting with magical substances is unavoidable, but if something feels amiss- amiss for a human mind you, I'm sure you can imagine it, no nonsense about your other curses healing you or whatnot- I want you to speak up immediately."

"Understood, Master Crewel."

"Outside of class too- if any rowdy mutts decide to test your curses for the fun of it, I want you to come to me. Preferably without shedding anyone's blood, yours included."

He finishes their height and they still haven't replied.

"Did you hear me, pup?"

". . .I will try, Master Crewel."

The teacher sighs and looks down at the tragic, wretched stray before him as he rolls up the tape. "I hope you do. I'd be a terrible homeroom teacher if I didn't look after my students. Additionally, Professor Crewel or 'sir' is sufficient if calling me Master Crewel is uncomfortable."

". . .very well, sir."

The man gestures towards the door. "Then you're dismissed. "

They tip their head and grab their bag. He thinks their hand lingers by his coat for a moment longer than you'd expect for someone otherwise so efficient in their actions, then they're gone.

Once they're out, Crewel types a message to Trein regarding the lateness of the golem and his minders. Hopefully, his instructions are specific enough to avoid future incident.

~ ~ ~

A certain Mozus Trein had grown rather accustomed to Dire and his eccentricities over their years working together in Night Raven College. Still, getting drunk on the second day of the school year was absolutely disgraceful. He stumbled inelegantly into the morning meeting absolutely hungover, and his ramblings of allowing a soulless flesh golem to roam the grounds certainly did little to help the already-poor mental image he had of the man.

The soulless flesh golem in question makes Lucius raise his hackles and back towards him when he meets their gaze. The burning gold of their irises and the tarry black they swam in is, admittedly, a touch unnerving, and Trein wonders if he would have flinched had he any fewer years of experience as an instructor or parent.

He tells them to sit down and they do, trailing after their minders and their familiar after them.

They're quiet through the rest of the class, jotting down notes with a quill. Their beast, a feline-looking monster, is behaved enough to not bat at it the way Lucius would be inclined to in the fire beast's position, but that is in part due to the monster deciding to nap midway through the class. It is irritating but unsuprising, considering many of the other students were already nodding off due to this basic topic on the origin of magic being something already covered ten times over to most.

But the golem- Yuu, he believes- doesn't so much as slouch. Perhaps their otherworldy origin made Magical History a more interesting subject. He wonders what their own history is like, if the magics that brought them into being are as tabboo in their world as it is here.

He does not expect them to speak to him at the end of class. He certainly does not expect such a soft, calm voice considering the sorts of trouble they've apparently caused. They do speak to him though, and in such a polite manner that it somehow unnerves him more. (Or maybe it's Lucius's terror he's sensing, his familiar's intense fear trembling through their bond.)

They ask about the age of the world. Not a kingdom, not of written records, but of Twisted Wonderland itself.

Treins answers with the truth- that he does not know, and that different races of Twisted Wonderland have their own ideas, but that a exact estimate is unknown.

They thank him and leave. The waves of relief rolling off Lucius is staggering.

Death, the familiar sends as he strokes the cat's back in an attempt to calm him, Death death death.

Trein's left trying to soothe the poor creature until the next class pours in. The last time he's seen his familiar so shaken was when he was a mere kitten.

At last, Lucius shakes off his neediness. He sits lazily upon the desk in his usual spot, body relaxed as he watches the next class pour in. A proud, aloof familiar.

(There's a twinge of terror at every black-haired boy that enters though, a shudder of anxiety until the last student enters and the doors swing shut.

He thinks of those dark, hollow eyes, of Crowley's own genuine distress.

Death indeed.)

~ ~ ~

All Ashton Vargas really took away from Crowley's blubbering (lightweight, he thought, because the fact that not everyone could down a barge's worth of drink and stay standing was lost on him) was that there was a student in this next class that might be a bit of a problem.

Funny thing is, they're the farthest thing from being a problem! They wordlessly run around the track the moment he gives the go. They keep up a good steady pace perfect for conserving stamina until their cat starts to tire and they slow down to keep close to it. They're worse at pushups, but don't even ask for a breather like the other students, merely forcing themself through it to the end before standing to brush the grass and dirt off their clothes.

As Vargas approaches the kid later to have a better look at them, he catches them having quite the conversation with two Heartslabyul (their babysitters?) as the latter two stretch-

"-because you're stuck like that," frowns the one with a spade on his face.

"Yes."

"Maybe you should tell the coach," suggests the other, this one with a heart and a collar. "Get exempted."

"I think they're doing just fine!" Vargas says, giving a grin of his own as he slings an arm around the black-haired kid-

-they feel like a cold pack straight from a fridge, but their neck and shoulders aren't damp at all. They tense and he feels the edge of their elbow against his solar plexus-

They slink out of his grip and look upon him with weird black-and-yellow eyes as they step back. They're leaner than he anticipated, skinnier too, but he sees the tension in their form, like a snake about to strike, and knows that if they had struck him earlier it would have hurt.

"Mister Vargas," they say, "Do you need something?"

"What's this nonsense about getting out of PE?" he says, still smiling, but raising an eyebrow now. "You're pretty fit, kid! But you got to bulk up- eat well, keep training, then maintain it! You could even get muscles like me!"

He accentuates this declaration with a proud curl of his arm and its bulging biceps.

The kid glances at their buddies. Spade and Heart Collar shrug and the kid looks back at him.

"I am grateful for the encouragement," they say slowly, "But that is impossible."

The smile falls away at the blasphemy. He gives them a stern look."Hey, don't you go ignoring potential! Anyone can build up muscle for a physique like this, but you won't with that attitude-"

"Are you aware of my condition, sir?" the kid asks. "Even if I desire it, Mister Vargas, I am physically incapable of growth. My curses bind me to a certain state of being with a set mass and shape. No matter how much I eat, or how much I exercise, my body cannot build more mass. I am trapped in this state, Mister Vargas."

The teacher frowns at them. "Ehh, the Headmaster wasn't exaggerating about the curses?"

"No, Mister Vargas."

He hums, and a smirk creeps back on his face. "So he wasn't kidding about you hurling him across a room either?"

"No, Mister Vargas," says the kid before him, a kid whose skin seems so thin he can see the veins beneath, yet who could run twenty laps and do a hundred pushups with breaking a sweat.

After a moment, Vargas laughs, and then he laughs some more. What a challenge!

"You sure are something kid!" he says, and Vargas vows on the spot to find a way to help them bulk up before he jogs away to a pair of students still lagging on the field. The kid might not be human, but they're probably human-shaped enough for his degree in human kinetics to come in handy!

~ ~ ~

Now Deuce was under no delusions that watching Yuu would be an easy affair. Yesterday's events has made that extremely clear. Still, he didn't think he'd be failing so spectacularly at it on his first day on the job.

One might say his shortcomings began that morning when he forgot about Yuu's mirrorsickness, but that was a rather internal failure, and so he opted to not count it. No, his first (and very public) failure at being Yuu's keeper was when they entered the classroom.

Their lateness from the unfruitful infirmary visit wasn't the issue here- not mainly, anyway. That merely made their appearance, Yuu's appearance, stand out all the more. Only then and there before all the students and the teacher did Deuce realize that Yuu wasn't wearing the uniform. They weren't donning their janitor clothes anymore, and the ghosts had done their best to give Yuu a decent look, but the ghosts' best was still an aged dress shirt and suspendered suit pants, both of which made them look very out of place.

Their teacher seemed to agree, giving them a displeased look and telling them to stay after class. He didn't scold them for their tardiness though, so the headmaster had informed the teacher about that like he said he would, at least.

Then they went to their seats, and Deuce tried very hard not to gape at what Yuu took out of their bag. Blank journals with yellowed pages, a pouch with bottles of ink, honest-to-goodness feather quills-

They had passed by the student shop on the way here. The student shop.

Grim sneezed at the dust from the material. Classmates snickered.

"Will that still work?" Ace asked.

Yuu carefully returned a spare quill to its flat wooden case. "I think this will suffice."

Deuce frowned. "You sure? I have spares."

"My hosts already provided the necessities."

Quill and ink are not the necessities, Deuce wanted to say, but considering Yuu didn't even know about electricity, did they even know what a ballpen was?. . .Did they know what plastic was?

At the back of his notebook, Deuce quickly scribbled down clothes and stationery beneath the no mirrors and phone??? he had jotted back in the nurse's office. He flipped it back to the front just in time for the teacher, one Divus Crewel, to continue his lessons at a breakneck pace.

Somewhere between tamarisk manna and tweedleweed, Deuce glanced at his seatmates to see how they were faring.  Ace seemed unbothered by his lack of pen and paper as he looked in the general direction of the teacher while Grim had already succumbed to his feline urge to nap. Yuu scribbled away at their journal with their quill, laser-focused, and when Deuce leaned a bit closer to see if they caught what the drawback of tweedleweed was, he realized he couldn't read what they were writing. Like, at all.

When Yuu went to privately speak with the teacher, Grim informed -well, reminded- Deuce of his second (third?) oversight in Looking After Yuu : Yuu could not read.

"Oh right. That."

Deuce shot Ace a look. "You knew?"

The redhead raised an eyebrow "The Headmaster told us to teach them the language? Did you forget?"

Deuce said nothing, but made a mental note to add that to the list.

Ace smirked. "You did, didn't you?"

. . .Ace had a really punchable face, Deuce also noted.

Ace glanced back at the door. "Well it's not an immediate problem anyway- they're not illiterate. Why does it matter if they take notes their way?"

"They need to read textbooks. Signs. Other stuff!"

"Not like we can do anything about it right now though, or can you teach them to read common between now and the next class?"

". . .could you?" Deuce asked.

"Yeah sure!" The redhead beamed.  "Just let me take out my phone and type in Learning to Read in Two Minutes with Ace Trappola- oh wait, I don't have a video like that. Or a channel. Or my phone."

. . .forget niceness. Ace was still an ass.

Magical History also brought stares, but it was a little easier to digest, maybe because since he was only now truly paying attention, the material seemed fresh and new to him. On the downside, he couldn't participate in any of the probably-basic questions because the material was still fresh and new to him.

Yuu too had been invested in the lesson, and actually went to ask the teacher something at the end. He couldn't tell if Yuu was disappointed at the vague answer or not.

"I don't suppose any of you know the age of Twisted Wonderland?" Yuu asked as they left the room.

"Nope!" Ace said, popping the p.

"Sorry," Deuce said, truly apologetic. Some guide he was. . .

Grim stretched in his basket. "Who cares anyway? Back then was back then! We're in the here and now!"

Their path to the field for PE consisted of him and Ace (but mostly him) pointing out the signs they passed to help Yuu get a better grasp of their surroundings. They'd really have to figure out how to teach them to read normal stuff later.

Deuce was also better at preparing Yuu for gym. He handed Yuu his sneakers, Ace tossed them his jacket, and they ended up blending in more like that.

Seeing how well they were doing, it was hard to imagine what had happened just the day before. All that blood, all that ink. . .right then though, smiling at the exhausted Grim in their arms as they ran their last laps under the sunlight, they seemed pretty normal.

They were absolutely inhuman to do a hundred pushups straight though. Deuce was both impressed and concerned, especially when he thought he heard a crack and they kept going.

Deuce tried to see if they were moving funny in any way as he bent to the side. "Sure you don't want to stretch?"

"It won't be of any use."

Grim squinted at them. "'Cause your blood's all inky?"

"In a sense," they replied. "There's a certain form that my curses consider to be the. . . default, I suppose. I can't deviate from it."

Grim blinked a few times.

"They can't grow," Ace translated.

"I knew what they meant!" Grim snapped, and ignored Ace's 'Sure you did' look to look at Yuu. "So ya can't get taller?"

"No," they replied. "Or shorter, or heavier, or lighter, or faster or stronger.I cannot change my height, nor weight, nor mass-"

"-because you're stuck like that," Deuce frowned.

"Yes. I cannot become sore either."

Ace hummed. "Maybe you should tell the coach. Get exempted."

And before he could consider whether Ace's words had any merit,  the absolute unit of a PE teacher came over, and Deuce thought he was about to witness a murder. But the empty look in Yuu's eye disappeared as they freed themself from the giant's hold.

Don't sneak up on them, he mentally added to the list.

Yuu answered the coach politely and detachedly. Was Yuu sad about that? About not being able to grow?  That train of thought abruptly derailed when they admitted to strangling the headmaster.

It was news to Grim and Ace too it seemed, and as they press Yuu for details on the way to the cafeteria, he figures they must be pretty content with their level of strength if they can manage that.

Is there enough time before the next class to run back to Heartslabyul and grab Yuu his extra uniform? Should he try to use a glamour spell instead? He can't say he's very skilled at illusion magic like that though, and maybe they could just wait until tomorrow since they were already wearing his tie and Ace's school jacket. . .

Deuce ponders these as they enter the cafeteria.

"Get a bunch- no, double of everything!"

The monster's basket had been left by the entrance, so now Grim's somehow perched on Yuu's shoulders as he stares at the array of food spread before them.

"I don't think your stomach can handle that much, Great Grim."

"You're eating too!"

"I don't need-"

"Who cares if you don't need it! Do it for the flavor then! For fun! When are ya gonna have food this good again, huh?"

". . .tomorrow?"

"You gonna start eating well tomorrow?"

Yuu is silent as they pick up a tray.

Grim thwacks Yuu with his tail. "Eat! That's an order, Henchman!"

". . .very well, Great Grim."

The cafeteria ghosts are more than eager to help Grim in his  vain attempt at fattening Yuu up. They greet them with heaps of food and friendly waves the latter of which Yuu returns with a bow and their own "Good afternoon"  once Grim tells them of it. The monster's cheery mood is infectious, and Deuce smiles as he gets himself some omurice. Even Ace seems to be in good spirits as he heads off to look for a seat, his only comment being not to spill anything on his jacket.

"Ey! Watch it!"

Deuce doesn't recognize the voices, but he knows that arrogant tone very well. After all, didn't he speak like that once?

"Look at what you did! My pasta's soft-boiled egg's on the floor cause of you!"

"Oh man," says a second student, a lackey,  "Breaking the gooey egg's the best part! How are you gonna pay for this, pal?"

"I apologize," Yuu says quietly. "I don't have any currency-"

"Oh yeah?"

Deuce notices the red magipens and red-and-black-ribbons. He sets himself between them and Yuu, hoping for some goodwill from dormmates. "Hey, can you just let it go? It was an accident."

The bully glares at him. "That any way to talk to you seniors? Rude."

The lackey's ugly eyes suddenly light up. "Ha! Look at this guy! You aren't even a student, are you? You're the janitor from yesterday!"

"Would you look at that," sneers the white-haired student. "So you are! What? Got bored being a waiter? Decided to play pretend?"

"We are students!" Grim snaps, jumping down from Yuu's shoulders. "We just got in late!"

"Sure you are!" says the bully patronizingly, roughly messing up Yuu's hair. "No gem, no jacket-"

"My familiar and I are a student," Yuu says firmly, calmly even as the boy sharply twists a fistful of their hair and Grim bristles.

Deuce bristles too.

"Yeah right," laughs the lackey, leaning close to Yuu. "Let me guess- you're Heartslabyul? Your friend here decided to let you be special for a day and gave you his stuff?"

"That's my stuff."

Ace shoulders his way through the crowd. Deuce sees all the phones are already out. Oh Seven.

Ace comes to a stop a few feet away from everything. He coolly looks up at the bully. "Hey Senior, you might want to stop messing with them."

"Like you're one to talk. Whatcha gonna do with that?" the lackey says with a point to the collar 'round the redhead's neck.

Now if it were Deuce with the collar, he's pretty sure he would have already decked the guy straight in the jaw, and since he'd have gone that far, he would have followed by pummeling his friend too.

But Deuce isn't the one with the collar, Ace is, and Ace grins.

"Hey Yuu!" he says cheerfully. "The situation had magic last time, but I'm pretty sure the Headmage would want to you to try right now."

There's a moment of stillness, then Deuce smells blood.

Chapter Text

You've never been a student. Not formally, anyhow. 

The one who raised you taught you about the world,  Flint taught you his crafts, and you learned many, many other things after that under his watch and from Mellos. Always alone though, always at home or a place masquerading as one.

You've been in academies too. You'd be trailing after him like a second shadow, or standing or strapped down in bright rooms as people did as they pleased, but you went often enough to get used to the sight of students milling around, glancing at you like a curiosity. You'd be the subject of student gossip, of their lessons, of their experiments. 

You wouldn't be walking so freely in the corridors. You wouldn't head to the infirmary for a check-up by a kind specter you can't see. You wouldn't be made to sit behind a desk instead of stand before it on the podium of whichever professor you'd been lent to. 

But this is a different world. 

An alchemy professor shouldn't measure you for clothes or ask you to tell him of trouble (he shouldn't see you touch his things and let you leave so easily), but he does. 

Magic should not have begun from unliving stones in mines unless those stones are the remains of diluvians, yet you have no reason to doubt that's the case here when the stuff's so abundant that each student carries a blotstone and you can't spot a single carcass from beings slain for their magic. 

Someone with a brawler's build like the exercise instructor should be in an academy for warriors specializing in physical combat rather than one for mages, but here he is. 

Because this is a different world. One full of its own magic. One where people are kinder, warmer, softer, perhaps even because of the former statement. Certainly, this world is one where the humanity hasn't imposed its selfish will and so other races walk freely. 

(It's a pity your mistress isn't here instead.) 

Even in a different world though, some things are the same. . .like these power-drunk nobodies. 

You'e dealt with enough of their types. You know it's not worth the effort, so you bowed your head and waited for it to pass. You didn't like it though, the way they mocked Grim, making you a fool, because you were a fool, in a sense. Of course the Headmaster's acknowledgement alone wouldn't be enough. Of course they'd want proof. 

Poor Grim. Disregarded on his first day as a student. You're proud of him for holding himself back, and though you'd scold him if he hadn't, a part of you wouldn't mind if he had decided to be a little monster he was and start another fire- this time on a person, perhaps. 

(You'll apologize to Grim later. His concerns were founded, it seems. You're sure this is not how he wanted his shiny new school life to begin.) 

Then Trappola stirs a thought, and well, it may very well be a trick, he may deny his encouragement after, shirk the blame to you, but frankly, you do not care. 

This world may be different, but not so different, and in this softer, more lenient world, perhaps for a moment, you can allow yourself a different role for a change. 

~ ~ ~ 

He wants to bite them. He wants to scratch them. He wants to burn them and this place down. 

But then they'd get in trouble. Not just him, but Yuu too. He can't ruin this new life. Not when they just started. 

Still, Grim's claws itch and the tiniest embers scratch at his throat. He shouldn't do anything but he wants to. He really, really wants to.  

(Yuu does too apparently, because what they do right after can't all be an act. But that's a thought from later. For now, Grim just watches them, as stunned as the crowd.) 

One moment the white-haired jerk's got his henchman by the hair. The next thing Grim knows, Yuu's out of his grip and Grim quickly plants himself between the guy and his dumb human, plants his paw on the ground too and it's. . .wet? 

The thing beneath his paw. . . The damp spot reeks of that terribly familiar scent of metallic ink, and the same sickly smell's wafting even more strongly from from behind him. 

"Yuu?" he asks, glancing back, and he wishes he hadn't. 

Black-tinted blood's dripping down their face. They touch it with a hand and it comes away with fingers dark and damp as the hair and skin on the ground before Grim. 

Oh. Oh he's gonna hurl. 

Deuce looks the same way, nauseous, worried, and mad all at once. The red-haired weasel's just staring with slightly wider eyes. 

But Yuu? They done't look any more upset than they did before. They look at their stained hand quietly, even as blood keeps dripping down their face and Deuce fumbles for a handkerchief from who-knows where- 

Then Yuu smiles. 

Not a small smile, a soft smile, a half-hidden smile like a shy secret slipping out. This one's slow, wide, and deliberate. It splits the streak of black running down their face before blood drips past their lips and stains their white teeth too. 

"Oh dear," they say with a horrible, bloodstained grin. "You have quite a strong grip, sir! It seems you've pulled my hair right out! What a shame, I've been told that's the best part of me, you know. However will you pay for it?" 

The white-haired kid and his buddy- they're voiceless now, frozen. The white-haired guy looks at Yuu, sees the dark liquid dripping down their face. He looks down queasily at his shaking, stained hand and violently recoils, dropping a larger clump of head and hair on the ground. 

Yuu gently pushes Deuce's hand off their shoulder as they step forward, step closer (step on their fallen strands and its bits of scalp) to the bullies. 

"Well?" they ask, voice filled with sickening cheer that chills Grim more than their gaze alone ever could. "Nothing to say? You've even made me ruin Sir Trappola's jacket again." 

The two students make a break for it- trying to disappear into the mass around them- but the golem's faster, seizing them by the back of their jackets to throw them back into the space that this spectacle's carved out from the spectating student body. The two stumble, off-balance, and Yuu brings them both to the ground with a swift kick to the back of their knees. They loom over the two, knives are in their hand now, the cold metal glinting in the chandelier's light. 

Yuu tilts their head. "No apology? No threats? Not even a proper end to this duel?" 

When the bullies proceed say nothing, Yuu frowns. "How rude. Spade, Trappola, a question, if I may?" 

Deuce soundlessly flaps his mouth. 

Ace indulges them with a "Yeah?" 

"Where I come from, when you lose a battle, the winner takes whatever they like from the loser- property, parts, even their life if they so choose! Any rule like that here?" 

"Maybe," Ace replies. 

Deuce shoots him a look, but it's too late. The golem's grin grows bigger. 

"How wonderful!" they declare. " I suppose I'll take a little off the top then, just so we're even. Red is such a lovely color." 

Yuu swings and Grim shuts his eyes as he hears screams- 

. . .and there's still screaming. . .and the screaming's going on far longer than you'd expect from people with no heads, the pitch and volume of the shrieks maintaining their shrill tone. 

Grim dares to crack an eye open. 

The bullies are still screaming like little kids, eyes shut and hands covering their heads in an attempt to shield their scalps while Yuu still stands over them. The golem's not looking at the students anymore though. Red glints in their knives, but not a red that drips like the inky blood dribbling down their face. The crimson comes from the glittering crystals balanced delicately on their blades. 

Yuu catches him staring. "Red's not really your color, but gem's a gem, yes?" 

They toss a jewel at him and he dashes for it. 

(When had he gotten so far from them? When had he started backing away?) 

Grim leaps and catches it in his teeth. He drops it onto his paws and blinks. The top of a pen's still stuck to it. A dozen little Grims stare back at him, reflected in what of the crystal hasn't been speckled in taint. 

The top of a pen. A red jewel. A magic gem, just for him. 

Grim looks up just in time to see the other gem in their fingertips be swirled with black before it bursts into little shards. 

Yuu watches the ink drips down from their hand. They glance at the boys on the ground who have long since stopped screaming, but remain huddled together as they stare up at Yuu. 

The knives disappear with a flick of their wrist. Still, the students flinch when the golem leans close. 

They laugh, unbothered, stepping away. The noise is like the grin they don once more- cold, cruel, and playful. 

"What fragile things!" 

They wipe the ink off their face- or try to, anyway. They mostly just succeed in smearing it across their forehead, strands of hair sticking together as they brush it out of their eyes. 

Yuu glances around with their hollow, empty, smile, their black-gold gaze bared to the world. 

"Well?" they say loudly. "Let's all move along now, shall we? We're choking the line." 

~ ~ ~ 

"Didn't you promise- the professor- not to shed blood?" 

"They weren't testing my curses." 

"I think- that's besides- the point!" 

"Ya bled, henchman!" 

"Exactly!" 

It's very hard to be gentle about this when he's just so. . .annoyed,  but he can't end up piercing more holes into Yuu's skull. There is still red-black coming out from the earlier wound's dried blood. 

"You sure your noggin's patched up?" Grim asks.

Yuu's below Deuce, sitting on a spare chair and leaning against the sink in a fascimile of salon treatments. "Yes," they say, "my scalp is whole. " 

Deuce clicks his tongue and untangles another wad of clotted sludge from their hair. 

The boy apologizes to his mother once again as he drags his fingers through Yuu's damp locks. He makes a note to say sorry to her on the phone when he can too, and then in person when the break comes. He can barely handle Yuu and it hasn't even been a day. His mother was truly a saint to have dealt with his shenanigans for years. 

Ace returns to the bathroom with fresh clothes slung over his arm, muttering, "Go to NRC, they said. It's a very prestigious school, they said. You'll have to run halfway across the campus for a shirt, they did not say." 

"Oh shut up!" Deuce snaps, rinsing the comb in the other sink. "Why'd you have to go and encourage them?" 

"You want them to be picked on all year long?" 

"The Headmaster wanted them to blend in! That thing all over Magicam right now? Not blending in!" 

"Geez, can you stop yelling? What's done is done." The redhead tosses the shirt over a stall door to hang before glancing at Yuu. "I mean, you're fine, aren't you?" 

Grim spits a tiny flame at Ace, but the guy moves away fast enough for the ember to harmlessly flicker out on the bathroom floor. If Deuce has the spare change, he will buy the monster tuna. 

"I am healed," Yuu replies- 

The bathroom's hinges turn. 

All four heads turn to the face peeking in. 

There's an audible gulp and a squeaked " 'scuse me" as the door slams shut. 

That would be kid #3 to enter the bathroom and leave. 

"I am healed," they repeat. 

Deuce sighs and spares a glare at Ace. "Even if they don't get bullied anymore. . .don't you think that was overkill?" 

Heck, even Deuce wanted to stay away from them after that. They had changed so easily- confident and taunting, grinning as they towered over their upperclassmen, their polite self traded for something sharp and menacing as the empty look in their eyes no longer stirred sympathy but fear- 

Then they left the cafeteria, and then Yuu's face returned to the neutral expression he'd gotten used to (the sadistic grin gone so quickly it was as if someone flicked a switch), then they apologized- 

Deuce's frustrated anger came out in full force and the next thing he knew, he was dragging them all to the restroom to get them cleaned up.  His fear hasn't entirely dissipated. It's still there, a niggling little thought at the back of his brain. Who's to say that little show in there wasn't an act? Who's to say this Yuu, the calm, quiet one, isn't the mask? Who's to say everything's he's seen isn't fake? 

It's definitely harder to be scared of them when they've got bubbles in their hair like this though. 

The redhead rolls his eyes. "Why are you saying that like I told them to go into creepy slasher mode? All I told them to do was to try." 

"You know they're bad at trying!" Deuce says, his attempt at a whisper being more of a hiss. "What happened to 'Yuu gets in trouble, we get in trouble'?" 

"If I may," Yuu speaks up- 

"You may not-" Grim says, and they close their mouth- 

"What do you want to say, Yuu?" Deuce asks, and they open their mouth again as Grim sports an offended look. 

"Sir Trappola did prompt me to act, but your ire should be directed at myself alone for the specifics of what I did. It seemed the best course of action at the time. . .though in hindsight-" 

"Stop worryin' about it! Ya did good, henchman!" 

"You're just happy you got a crystal." Ace remarks. 

Grim squishes himself flatter onto the sink counter, hiding the red jewel dangling from his neck in his paws and chest fluff. "So I got a gem, so what?" 

"You know you're gonna have to return that right?" 

"Says who?" 

Deuce mutters as the two bicker. What a group he's gotten for himself into- at least they're better than the crowd he used to hang out with. . .he thinks. Would his mom approve of this new set of "friends"? He isn't quite sure if this can be called friendship, this odd babysitting situation he's found himself in, but it's the simplest way he can describe it to his mother.

. . .how were they gonna get Yuu friends? It's such a sappy thought, but helping Yuu adjust, that would mean helping them to get more friends too, wouldn't it? With what just happened, how even- 

"Is that mandatory?" Yuu asks. 

Deuce has another go at their hair with some soap. "Is what mandatory?" 

"Friendship. You said something of it just now. . .is camaraderie with classmates a part of the curriculum? I've been under the impression that such interactions were optional." 

"You've . . .really never been a student, huh?" 

"I have been taught before. . . but not in an academy, no." 

"Well first time for everything!" Grim says. "So we need friends? How many do we haveta get?" 

The monster says it so seriously, so earnestly, that despite everything, Deuce can't help but crack a smile. Meanwhile, Ace seizes up- first chuckling, then snorting, then chortling. 

Grim's flames flash. "Hey, quit laughing! Why? How many friends do you have, huh? The Great Grim and his henchman will blow that number outta the water, just you wait!" 

Ace wheezes. 

"I don't think you need to make friends," Deuce says, "But I'm pretty sure there are group projects at some point, so it would be good to have people you can get along with. . .and maybe some that are smarter than you who can help. . ." 

The ginger finally catches his breath. "You say that like we're not gonna end up stuck together for everything." 

"Whaaaaat?" Grim whines. 

Ace raises an eyebrow. "You seriously think anyone's gonna walk up to you and them and be, Oh wow! A wild fire monster that almost burnt us to a crisp! A cold creepy guy who almost murked their seniors! Of course I want to be groupmates with them!" 

Grim glowers. Deuce resists the urge to flick blood-blotted suds at him with the comb lest he lose track of where he is. 

"I apologize," Yuu says. "For being a hindrance to more knowledgeable company you could have had otherwise-" 

"Can you stop saying sorry all the time? It's starting to get super annoying. Besides, it's what me and Juice here signed up for." 

Deuce glares. Ace coolly stares back. 

"It's Deuce- Deu!" he stresses.  "But yeah, it's fine. At least we know each other. And if none of us know what to do in class. . . well, we'll just have to figure it out then." Maybe he should try studying ahead so he can teach them stuff. . .teaching's supposed to help you remember what you study too right? 

Grim pads over to the sink to smile over Yuu. "Yeah, don't be sorry, Henchman! Who needs some nobodies? You've got the Magnificent Grim and his two minions with ya-EYY!" 

Grim shakes himself, spitting and trying to wipe off the suds Deuce just hurled at him. 

"Traitor!" he cries. 

Deuce grins. "That's what you get for calling me your minion." 

Grim jumps as he feels a cold splatter on his back. He turns to find Ace leaning on the sink counter, droplets dripping off the same hand that just flicked water at him. 

"I'm not your minion either! Who in their right mind would want to be some cat's crony? Yuu, put your hand down." 

"Mutiny!" Grim wails. "Henchman, do something! Try!" 

Ace actually flinches at that. So does Deuce. 

Yuu doesn't even stir in their seat though. "Try what?" 

Grim gives them a look. He gestures at the door and presumably towards the cafeteria. "Something! Anything!" 

"Great Grim, Sir Trappola and Sir Spade are our minders." 

The monster deflates. "Whose henchman are ya?" he grumbles. 

"Here in Twisted Wonderland. . .informally, the Great Grim's." Yuu replies, "Contractually, I suppose the Headmaster's, seeing as he did not outright revoke our initial agreement." 

Grim pauses at that. "So if I make a contract-" 

"Can you even write?" 

"Sh-shut up ya firehead!" 

Deuce ignores the sound of the door opening again as he rinses Yuu's head (hopefully for the last time), sure that whoever it is will also walk out.  

The door opens completely though, and a familiar face steps inside. Another Heartslabyul, another senior, this one with orange hair and lime-colored eyes. 

The newcomer beams. "Ah, so this is where you all were!"

Chapter Text

"You guys are pretty hard to find!"

Cater steps into the bathroom. It's a funny scene: a sad-looking flaming fluffball of a monster, the two freshmen looking like grumpy little dogs (the collared one especially so), and of course, there's the star of the hour sitting on chair before the sink with his head bent at funny angle that looked both amusing and uncomfortable. Man, he wishes he could take a quick pic of it.

"Skipping class to start a hair salon? Ooh, are you taking customers?"

The monster suddenly hisses at him, blue flames flaring. "Scram!"

"Hey now," Cater says, still sporting a friendly smile, "Is that any way to talk to your sen-"

A growl.

"They're kinda sick of seniors," the collared redhead with a heart says. "Y'know cause-" and he proceeds to pantomime his hair being tugged, a gesture which Cater finds to be more reminiscent of a noose being pulled taut even with the context of the recent incident.

Cater raises his hands defensively, placatingly. Poor choice of words.  "Sorry about that!  Really though! I'm just a upperclassman worried for his juniors! Especially since you four are cutting class and all~"

"We have permission," says the heart (Ace Trappola, if Cater remembers right).

The blue-haired boy with a comb in his hand and a spade on his face (Deuce Spade- What a fitting name), furrows his brows. "Senior, aren't you skipping class too though?"

"Aww, it's cute that you're concerned, but no need to worry about me! How's your friend there by the way?"

He takes a step forward but the spade blocks his way. Behind him, the familiar leaps over their master to glare at him from the edge of the counter. The heart pulls the sitting student up and shoves them into a stall, telling them to hurry up and change.

Wow, protective much?

"Whaddya want?" the monster glowers, (the same monster that burned their arm to the bone, isn't it? Yet their arm seems fine already).

Cater smiles despite the thick atmosphere. "Well~ I think we should all introduce each other first! I'm your gentle senior, Cater Diamond, a third-year in Heartslabyul! You can call me Cay or Cates! Or-"

"Deuce Spade," says the spade tersely.

"Ace."

The monster bares its teeth. "The Great Fearsome Grim!"

(A makeshift necklace hangs from the monster's neck, one with a pendant of a red crystal dangling by its pencap from a tattered ribbon. Hmm.)

"And your friend over there?" Cater prods, fingers now wrapped around the magipen in his pocket.

"My henchman over there's you."

". . .you?"

"Their name's Yuu."

"Ohhh. Interesting na-"

There's a loud noise from the stall. The student apparently called Yuu bursts out and immediately sets their eyes (and what a pair of eyes they are) on him. Cater's a bit surprised by how they look. Whether as kitchen staff the other day or as a student, they had always styled themself so neatly. Yet right now their shirt's untucked and unbuttoned, and the bottom right side is. . . bleeding ink? Ahh, wasn't their blood that hue in the video?

"Henchman!" The monster abandons the counter, drawing the spade's attention while he's at it.

The heart groans. "Oh for Seven's sake can't you go five seconds without hurting yourself?"

"I did not-"

"Senior," says the student before him through gritted teeth, "What did you do? "

Cater blinks, bewildered. "H-hey! Nothing! I didn't do any-"

"It's ink."

It was Yuu who said that.

Deuce glances back. "What?"

"I am not bleeding, it's ink. . .Sir Diamond, where is your wand?"

"My- my magipen? In my pocket?" he replies slowly, still baffled. He draws it out too, just to show he's not lying, and the stiff envelope in his jacket pokes him as he moves.

. . .wait. Wait a minute-

"Do not use magic near them. Do you understand?"

Even that counted?!

His pen's suddenly snatched out of his hand.

Deuce steps back with it in his grasp. The freshman moves towards Yuu and the others and Cater remembers the other student's magestone shattering-

"Stop!" he quickly shouts. "H-hey, hold on, I know what happened!"

The spade pauses just as he looks like he's about to hand the pen over to Yuu.

Cater tries to smile.

~ ~ ~

Riddle Rosehearts had received a letter this morning.

It was a letter from the Headmaster, delivered by ghosts and then by Trey, and it was not a letter he was pleased to receive.

He'd been in a poor mood since the other night, to be honest. What a miserable batch of freshman he had. Rule break after rule break after rule break- he had his work cut out for him- and then there was that freshman, Ace Trappola.

That one didn't only sneak out during the entrance ceremony- he tried to skip classes (on the first day, orientation or not that's cutting), almost assaulted a student (one without magic), and ended up eating a tart meant for the Unbirthday Party, all within forty-eight hours of stepping foot in NRC.

It was almost impressive.

It was mostly infuriating.

And yet, despite all that, the Headmaster finds him fit to be a student guide.

A freshman.

As a guide.

It's absurd. If that is meant to be a punishment, it is not one that Riddle approves of. Punishments are meant to correct improper behavior. They are not supposed to come with a privilege like leniency for lateness. Being made to fetch a magic stone from the Dwarven Mines was a better punishment, though having additional help for the task was generous in his opinion.

Had Trappola truly done so well that the Headmaster was moved to assign to him such a task?

Spade, he has less qualms about. The blue-haired boy seemed eager to listen. He seemed to have been dragged into the mess between Trappola and that ceremony student yesterday purely by bad luck. However, Riddle personally saw him leave the dormitory early, so early that the letter hadn't even arrived yet, and when questioned, Spade replied that it was in case he'd get lost.

These were the individuals the Headmaster wanted to be guides. At least there was no mention of them having to be uncollared, but still.

Riddle could not figure out what the Headmaster was thinking, and so he urgently sent a letter back, a polite protest and petition to change the selected students (or at least one of them, preferably Trappola). He even offered to pick the replacements himself.

He awaited a response, but none come. He's still waiting when lunch comes and with it an incident that makes his blood boil.

The magicless student (who's sensitive to magic too apparently, because why not?) was the same one who foolishly burned their arm trying to stop the fire monster. Said fire monster had since been permitted to become their familiar but Riddle can only handle so much at a time AND SO he shall to brush that thought aside FOR NOW. Besides, it's not the cat that instigates the incident, but students of Heartslabyul.

It's madness, utter madness.

It's also evidently self defense (though he must admit the retaliation was a bit. . .drastic).

It's clear what has to be done, and it's a good thing he has Cater on his side. With Split-Carded Caters off to fetch the unruly students who caused a scene and find the magicless student and freshmen with a freshly-written invitation in hand, there's nothing Riddle can do but pay attention to his classes and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

~ ~ ~

Cater draws out the letter in his pocket, smiling sheepishly.

"Sorry, I was trying to write your name. The whole. . .no magic thing. . .kinda slipped my mind, haha. . ."

They still look at him blankly.

" 'scuse me-" Deuce lifts up the flap of Yuu's shirt just enough to expose the blotchy patch of ink upon their side, approximately where the envelope would be if they wore a jacket and had the letter in their pocket.

If Cater tips his head to the side, and if he squints, it kinda looks like Y-U-U.

Grim too tips his head. "Looks like a to- an att- like a tet- like a-"

"A tattoo." Ace makes a face. "I am not getting you another shirt."

Deuce frowns. "Can you wash it off?"

"I am. . .unsure," they say, swiping a finger across the mark, smearing the digit with little change to the stain upon their side. "Apologies for ruining your gift so soon, Sir Trappola."

Boy does Cater feel like he kicked a puppy.

"What exactly's the range on your stuff?" Ace grumbles, soft enough for most to catch only mumbles, but Cater's ears have been trained to strain for whispers of gossip.

". . .my curses?" 

"No, your arms- yes, your curses!"

"I. . . believe it varies with the taint in my blood. The recent incident prompted healing, and with it. . .in any case, I do not think Sir Diamond had malicious intent."

"So do we have to avoid the main streets just in case?" Deuce asks. "Or should we just look for other ways around the school?"

"It should manageable so long as I avoid further injury-"

"Other ways it is-

Cater coughs. They look at him in a way not unlike his sisters' looks whenever they caught him eavesdropping.

"A-ny-way~ I'll get you a new shirt, promise! And also~ Can I have my pen back? Please?"

Deuce hesitantly walks over to hand it to him. When Cater grabs it though, the spade's grip hasn't loosened. He looks him right in the eye, gaze as firm as his grip.

"No magic," he says.

"No magic!" Cater replies.

Deuce lets go.

Cater pops off the cap, scrawls 'Yuu' as elegantly as he can when writing on a letter on a hand, then offers the envelope once more.

"You, Yuu, are formally invited to the Unbirthday Party tomorrow!"

". . .I beg your pardon?"

Cater smiles. "The only pardon that's gonna be begged for is yours, Yuu! In f-"

His phone suddenly buzzes. Cater brings it up and grins. "Perfect timing!"

He flips the screen towards the juniors. "See, those two who did that to you, to Yuu, to- well I think you get it-they've been collared!"

The students crowd close. Cater stands there, watching them watch it. Yuu angles their head, one hand holding up their still-damp locks to stop it from seeping further into the shoulders of their shirt. (Cater winces at the thought of hard it must have been pulled to break skin. )

They don't smile sadistically the way they did in the cafeteria as they see their bullies collared. They don't even look relieved. Rather, their gaze is the perfectly neutral one he saw yesterday when they still wore the kitchen uniform. They do lean really far from the phone though.

"Sir Spade," he hears, "May I ask if that device uses magic or-?"

"Hmm? The phone? It runs on a batt-  on electricity."

"I see, thank you."

Only then does the black-haired kid get closer to the phone.

Cater smile dips a little.  'Where I come from' they had said loud and clear. . .somewhere without phones? Or were their parents just like super, super strict?. . .were they a merfolk? A fey?

Deuce returns his phone. Cater files his musings away for later as he pockets the device. "So yeah! You're invited to the Unbirthday Party, and you'll get an apology there. Any questions?"

Deuce raises his hand. "Are we supposed to bring something to an Unbirthday Party?"

Ace taps his collar. "So can I get this thing removed?"

"The Great Grim's invited too right?"

"May I decline?" Yuu asks.

Cater blinks. "Caaaaan I ask why? It's after classes, and club registrations aren't opening yet. If there's homework-"

SMACK

"Mirrorsickness," Deuce seethes, palm of his hand still at the middle of his forehead. "Dammit, I keep forgetting!"

Cater blinks. "Mirrorwhatnow?"

~ ~ ~

You are. . .not quite sure how you ended up here.

Certainly, there in that washroom, there was a moment where you understood things. Your hair was rinsed, your clothes were changed, your skin was inked upon (by accident, such mundane things mages do here with their abundance of magic).

Then you were invited to an. . .Unbirthday Party? You can only assume that since birth is life, then unbirth must be death, but you somehow doubt that this world would have viewing events for execution the way they do in Tellusaire. . .anyhow, Diamond then spoke through that black mirror of his. You think you agreed to accept the invitation if the issue with mirror travel was resolved, but then there was another issue about Trappola not being able to return due to still being branded a thief, and you couldn't linger long on what transpired because there were still classes to attend. . .

"Hey! Earth to henchman!"

You blink. Grim's looking up at you from his basket. You stand on the grassy, sunlight-dappled floor of the forest behind the school.

Find chestnuts. Find chestnuts, bake a pastry so Trappola can be pardoned and enter the party tomorrow, attend the party, and carry on with your day, hopefully able to then traverse mirrors without issue through. . .something.

"Yes, Great Grim?"

"You okay? You were spacing out." He idly stretches his limbs. "If you ain't feeling too good, we could just ditch-"

Spade's head spins around. "What? Yuu, are you sick?"

"Don't tell me now that you're allergic to chestnuts," Trappola gripes.

"I do not know what chestnuts are," you reply.

"Ya don't have those in your world either?" Grim asks.

"They're the spiky fruits all over the ground," Spade says. He carefully picks one up and hands it to you.

You take the burred thing from his gloved hand and turn it around in yours. The spines do not seem poisonous. It also does not look like a chest in the slightest, but within its split shell (stepped upon, perhaps?), you see dark brown seeds. Perhaps the nuts were highly-valued? Like treasures in a chest. . .

Grim leaps from the basket. "Ooh Henchman, look! This one's - OW!"

"Grim? " Your head whips towards the monster.

Trappola snickers. Grim chucks the chestnut at him.

You kneel. "Are you alright, Great Grim?"

He proudly struts away with a slight limp. "Pshh, it's nothing the Great Grim can't handle!"

"It'll be good to get a basket or something to gather these in," Spade suggests.

You lift Grim's basket, since Grim doesn't seem keen on showing weakness. Perhaps he'll find it more dignified to lie upon your shoulders?

"Tongs too," Trappola adds. "We'll poke holes in our gloves if we keep picking them up. . .let's not ruin any more clothes today, yeah? The garden should have some stuff we need. . ."

You try to recall the inventory of the shed when you picked up cleaning supplies. "They're not stored outside, if so."

"Won't hurt to check inside!" Spade heads off towards the glassed structure.

Trappola follows, rubbing his neck. You wonder if the greenhouse has any temida or merkiss. If not, that medicine Sir Al-Asim gifted had a cool scent to it. . .perhaps it contains a soothing agent?

You lower the basket to Grim. He boards it sullenly, and you follow Trappola and Spade.

"I did not forget what I said."

Grim glances up.

"I will still try to acquire a crystal for you."

Somewhere in that flurry of activity earlier, Diamond had politely asked for the red jewel back. Grim had reluctantly relinquished it at your urging.

Grim blinks at you, then huffs with a smile, mood brightened (distracted and pricked paw forgotten, at least for now). "Let's get a different color next time!"

"Is there one you prefer?"

He curves his tail, the trident-like tip of it curling around your wrist for balance as he stands up in the basket. "White! No wait, blue! It'll bring out my eyes! Oh! OH! Or purple!"

"Purple? I do recall seeing some other students bearing stones of that shade. . ."

"It's the color of royalty," he grins. "Purrrfect for the Great Grim don't you think?"

"Very fitting," you nod.

Chapter Text

The garden is filled with lush vegetation. You think you recognize some of them, the array of some leaves, the shape of some flowers' petals, but you cannot be certain, especially since the words of the little signs in the soil perhaps indicating what they are still look mostly like unknown runes to you. You do not know if any are medicinal. You wonder if they're mostly decorative, if this structure was created for the mere leisure of aristocrats. . .unlikely, since this is a mage's academy, and every mage you know has hands dyed dark by earth if not blood for their craft, but not impossible, considering your limited knowledge. Perhaps the true garden with valuable specimens is hidden elsewhere. . .or maybe not, since your minders already seem rather impressed to be inside.

Trappola marvels aloud at its size and Spade too seems a bit overwhelmed. Even Grim looks around with a bit of wonder. . .hmm. . .does this land have felwort?

"There ain't any ghosts around," Grim says, having noticed your searching gaze.

"Noted. Thank you, Great Grim."

Spade cranes his neck with a frown. "There's gotta be caretaker or two somewhere around though. Let's ask them where the supplies are."

"Maybe we should split up to search," Trappola suggests, "We'll cover more ground that way- and before you can get on my case about them," he adds rather quickly, with a pointed look at Spade, "Maybe we should just let them wait here. You know, in case they're allergic to some magic plants or whatever."

Spade opens his mouth but closes it again, unable to refute the possibility. You also cannot completely shut down the idea, especially since you haven't much experience with the flora of Twisted Wonderland, much less its magical ones, and perhaps the images in Professor Crewel's class aren't as accurate as they could be (which seems unlikely for a man with so strict a nature, but this is a different world).

"I can wait," you say. "I will remain here until your return with the tools unless I am called for. Or unless if I am attacked, in which case-"

"You shout and run and find us," Spade says firmly.

". . .very well."

He looks at you sternly and for so long you wonder if he's searching for specks of blood on your face.

"I'll go right," Trappola announces as he spins on his heel. "If you're done smothering them, maybe head left?"

"I was going to," Spade snaps, then gives you one more sharp look as though that could nail you to the ground before he leaves.

You are not, however, nailed to the ground. Grim alights from the basket with an excited, purring hum.

"Please do not wander too far, Great Grim."

"Don't sweat it, henchman! I'm just lookin' around. Maybe those dolts missed the stuff near here."

You doubt that any implements lying around aren't in use, but you let him do as he likes. It keeps him occupied. Oh you hope there isn't any felwort in this greenhouse. . .or maybe you do. It would be undoubtedly amusing to see Grim indulging in it. . .ah but not in public. His poor pride might not be able to take it.

You look around, gaze never lingering on anything for too long. You don't care much for whoever watches you now, so long as they leave you be.

The greenhouse truly is an impressive place. Plants hang from trellises and suspended pots just as they sprout from the ground. Artificial rivers run through the greenhouse, their bubbling currents providing a soothing ambiance to the atmosphere. Afternoon sunlight streams through the glass panes above at a perfectly comfortable warmth and luminosity. It's a most lovely garden, one that she would undoubtedly. . .

You hope your mistress is alright. It's a pity she didn't come with you. It's a pity she isn't here in your place, enjoying this greenhouse, this soft, warm world with gentler people and Grim. It's a terrible thing really, that she's there in Tellusaire, that you're here, and because you are here while she is there she is alone and she is alone and she is alone and she is alone and she is al-

Ah, Grim's moving.

He leaves your field of vision but not of hearing. You should call him back, but you're reluctant to spoil his fun. Certainly, the greenery here is more enriching than the withering plants of Ramshackle. Perhaps you can ask for clippings and seeds? It would certainly do well to brighten up the dormitory. . .

A grunt, too deep and too rumbling to be Grim. You unroot yourself from your spot and dash to the creature, you can take another chiding and this situation calls for you-

"Oh hey! Are you the caretaker? Ya sure don't look it."

"You got some nerve stepping on someone's tail without apologizing."

"I apologize!" you say loudly, as you scoop Grim up, place him in the basket which you then hide behind your back, then bow in one smooth motion. "We didn't mean to interrupt you, sir."

"I was having a nice nap until your little cat decided to stomp on my tail."

Tail? You dared look up. The green-eyed man from the ceremony stands tall before you. He has ears. And a tail. A beastman, one that seemed to be in a position of power here if his place in the ceremony was any indication.

You almost smile despite yourself, and this precarious situation.

Truly, a better world.

~ ~ ~

It wasn't the noise of the arriving students that stirred him from sleep, but their smell. The fragrance of roses from Heartslabyul, the smell of dust from places abandoned, and the scent of something very, very dead.

Leona turned a little, cracked an eye open. If they were disposing of a body here, that would be quite troublesome.

There is no body though, when he opens his eyes fully, at least none being dragged along the ground.

But one of them should be. The scent of ink, of blot, of blood shrouds the offending student, but more than that they smell of curses, ancient curses foreign to even him.

He wills his ears to stop swivelling like a fucking kitten's and forces the tail curling close around him to go straight. He lays low on the ground but that's because he's sleeping not because of fear what has he to fear from this scrawny, gangly kid who smells like a cursed corpse and twisted magic and-

No. No he is not yielding to this shit. He is not giving up his territory to that fucking bag of rotten flesh. He's awake now, wide awake, and-

And the smell is gone?

They're there, he can tell. But he smells no corpse. The plants around him, certainly. The faint roselike scent of the Heartslabyuls lingers in the air just as the musty scent of old things do. But the reek of a dead body? Nope. Absent.

But If he closes his eyes he can smell it still, the smell of decay, soaked in something heavy and pungent and metallic and wrong. It gets stronger as his mind drifts and then that annoying unease seeps in again-

Leona opens his eyes. The feelings melt away. He only smells the bloody blot now. It's a stench to be sure, but a stench leagues more tolerable than that of an entire rotten corpse. It smells a bit familiar, this odd scent shrouding the rot -

And then something steps on his tail. He glowers at it as he rises, but it doesn't even flinch, the stupid little beast. Mistakes him as some gardener too.

Its owner has more manners at least, though that does little to better their standing in his eyes when they're the one whose fucked-up odor woke him up. There's still something wrong about it.

They apologize again at his words, but there's something odd about the way they look at him. It's not just the oddity of their eyes (gold rings sinking in pools of tarry black, what the fuck was with that ), but there's a softness to their gaze. They looked. . .pleased? Relieved? 

He's not unused to looks of admiration, but this isn't his dorm, and this guy's not some eager, tail-wagging Savanaclaw. The gaze comes from a freshman who should be burned should be dead should be rotting and it's fucking creepy is what it is.

Ah. Seems he's finally placed them and their little monster.

"You're that herbivore from the ceremony aren't you?" He eyes their arm. They don't move it like they suffered third-degree burns. (They don't reek of burnt flesh either).

"I was at the ceremony, yes." They still have that look in their eye.

He wants to claw it out of them. Maybe both their eyes so they stop looking at him like that.

Leona's sure to bare his fangs. "Don't think I'll let you off the hook for stepping on my tail just because you're a freshman. I'm in a bad mood from being woken up from my nap. Prepare to lose a tooth."

"Which one?" they ask without skipping a beat.

". . .What?"

"Which tooth?" they ask, just as there's a not-so-distant call of -

"You? Where are you?"

They glance back at the source of the calls, the cat's out of their basket, probably ran off. They then look back at him. "I suppose any will do?"

Before he can respond, they stick their slender, spidery fingers in their mouth, give a harsh tug, then offer something white and black to him between their fingers.

It's a molar, Leona realizes. A molar dripping fresh, dark blood.

They look at him innocently, like Cheka would when offering him a sweet. They tilt their head like Cheka too. "Did you want a different one?"

He can see the blood pooling in their mouth when they talk, the fluid staining their other teeth like the worst red wine.

"You?" A more strained, desperate call. Closer too.

"You, we found the stuff! Let's move!"

The should-be corpse bows again, gulps blood. "I apologize once more for my familiar interrupting your rest. I hope the tooth is satisfactory, if not, please do inform me and I shall do my best to offer a proper one then. Farewell, sir."

They place the tooth on the ground and hurry away. Their scent lingers in the air as Leona stares blankly at the white crown upon grass, its enamel almost resembling some sort of seed on the dirt if he doesn't look too hard.

What the fuck. He thinks. He promptly turns around to head to the other end of the temperate zone, which isn't him yielding territory but rather relocating because this place was full of noisy, noisome freshmen. It has nothing to do with the corpse whatsoever, nothing at all.

What the fuck. He thinks though, as he runs relocates. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-

~ ~ ~

Yuu's been rather quiet since they came back from the greenhouse. You wouldn't think it's something to be noticed, especially when they're so quiet already, but there's something about it that feels. . .off.

He thinks, at first, that their silence is due to embarrassment from having moved from the spot they said they would stay in, but they had a reasonable explanation and he isn't sure shame's an emotion they can feel.

Ace glances at the chestnuts they've gathered, plentiful enough to fill the borrowed buckets.

"Yuu."

Instead of their usual 'Yes?' they merely turn to him. . .have they actually said anything since the greenhouse?

"Mind carrying this?"

Grim protests about them being his minion and Deuce scolds him for making them do his chores, but Yuu readily swoops close to grab a bucket from him.

Ace seizes the moment to grab their wrist and squint at their face. "Is there something in your mouth?"

"My tongue?" they say uncertainly, quite softly, mouth small and why does he smell-

"Oi! Stop trying to smooch my Henchman!"

Ace realizes how close his face is to theirs. He doesn't back away though. "You, shut it. Yuu, open your mouth wide- " a pause " - Grim, shut it, you, Yuu, don't shut your trap- that's an order- hey Juice, their mouth's bloody! I think they ate something-"

"They what?!" Deuce panickedly pushes Ace out of the way to peer into Yuu's mouth, ramble-scolding- "Yuu you're not supposed to eat chestnut shells-!"

"They've been like this since the greenhouse-"

"I-is that worse?!"

"If they ate something super poisonous or acidic maybe."

Deuce drops his bucket to rummage through his notes. He flips through the pages. "Acid- poison- cauldrina? Master Crewel mentioned that right? Or centaimas- Yuu, do you remember what you ate-"

"Talk, Henchman!" Grim says, acknowledging the hand they had raised not too long ago.

They lower the limb. "I did not consume anything," they mutter.

"WHY ARE YOU BLEEDING THEN?"

Ace and Grim wince at Deuce's shout. Yuu mutters something.

"Louder, Yuu, maybe at volume we can hear?"

Yuu looks. . . a little sheepish, actually, as they meet Ace's gaze.

"I pulled out a tooth," they say, and swallow blood. "I was not made to!" they add quickly. "It was of my own volition- no one picked a fight, I was not attacked, or mocked, or insulted, if anything I was a bother to the other party and I am not- not seriously harmed-"

"Is there blood?" Deuce presses unimpressedly.

. . .Yuu swallows.

Ace furrows his brows. "Why the fuck would you give somone a tooth?"

"He. . .requested it?"

"And you just gave it to him?"

". . .yes?"

"WHY THE HECK WOULD HE WANT YOUR TEETH?!" Grim yells. (Ace wonders too if this exceptional volume is due to exceptional guilt. He had appeared before him and Deuce, seemingly anxious, moments before Yuu silently appeared to take their scolding and follow them outside.)

Yuu looks confused. "Is a dead man's tooth not an ingredient of some potions?"

"BUT YOU'RE NOT DEAD???"

"Huh," Ace huh's, "I think I remember my brother mentioning dead man's something for a potion class. . .fingers? Or was it coins. . ."

Grim glances at him and Deuce. He covers his mouth with his paws. He looks at his paws with horror too "Y-you aren't gonna get mine are ya? My chompers are too small for anything- a-and my paws ain't fingers-"

Deuce grimaces. "What? No! Why would you ask that?"

Yuu busies themself with gathering the chestnuts that spilled from Deuce's bucket, softly saying, "I may have. . .spoken. . .in earshot of Grim. . .of harvesting magical material from him in the past-"

"What? " Deuce asks, apparently uneducated in the ways of Henchman inquiries.

"Of collecting his blood. . . and his organs. . .and-"

Grim puts his paw over his ears and hold them down. "LA LA LA NOT LISTENING-"

". . .was this an inappropriate time?"

"There will never be an appropriate time," Ace replies.

"Oh."

They soon abandon the bucket to assure Grim that he need not fear organ harvests under their care, Deuce messily scrawls something in his notes before grabbing his phone, and Ace sighs.

They can't leave Yuu alone for a second, can they?

~ ~ ~

Trey was in a suprisingly good mood.

Maybe it was because it was because the school year was just starting, so there wasn't much schoolwork to weigh him down yet. Maybe it was the pleasant weather, or the fact that the Unbirthday preperations were fairly on-schedule. (Maybe, just maybe, it was because Riddle just used his Unique Magic for something Trey could actually, truly agree with. )

And then the Cater lounging on the kitchen counter suddenly asked him about how good he was at dentistry.

"I'm not a dentist," he says, smiling a bit confusedly but amusedly as he looks up from the cookbook.

"But you're good at teeth right? Like you know what to do if one falls out? Or gets pulled out?"

"I guess?" Trey answers, because searching up brushing teeth sometimes leads to searching more about tooth care and an interest and briefly considering whether a brief joke about being in a dentist beside the clinic that your childhood friend will be a healer in might not be a joke after all. "But I've only really had experience with milk teeth-"

"Great!" Cater says, and turns his attention back to the phone.

(Why is there a sinking feeling in his gut?)

"Cater, what's-"

A ghost shoots through the double doors to the cafeteria. "- ow to get yourself in trouble, kid!"

"Tell me 'bout it!" whines a cat monster that scrambles after the specter through the still-swinging double doors.

Trey tenses. He doesn't get to ponder long about what to do with the creature that caused a commotion at the entrance ceremony because freshmen come in. The spade in particular is dragging a companion into the seat that Cater's just vacated, a companion who, to Trey's alarm, is biting down on a handkerchief soaked the color of raspberry molasses.

The last freshman, the collared heart (the most recent thorn in Riddle's side), Ace Trappola, walks up to him with buckets of chestnuts.

"Hey," the redhead says in greeting, remarkably nonchalant about the other freshmen. "Trey, right? Thanks for agreeing to help us out."

Trey stares at the smiling, dead-eyed freshman. Ace looks back, unbothered by the commotion happening around his companions and Cater.

"So. . .where should I put these? Do I start peeling them now? Or wash them or. . .?"

Trey readjusts his glasses. Ace is still beside him, but the freshman-monster-Cater-cluster's moved Yuu to the sink as they argue about whether they should rinse their mouth while the ghost carries the cat carrying a cheesecloth loaded with ice.

Trey looks at Ace. At the others. At Ace again. "Is your friend-"

"Yuu pulled a tooth," Ace says, dropping a bucket to point at his jaw. "One of the back ones, deep in. There was blood, it was a mess, but it's already growing back so-"

"What do you mean they pulled a tooth? What do you mean its growing back?"

"They lost a tooth, it was a black spot, there's a white spot growing out of it now. It's growing back."

"Trey!" Cater calls. "Are you supposed gargle when you lose a tooth or not?"

Deuce groans. "Just let them rinse their mouth-"

Cater taps his phone. "Look, its says here that rinsing could remove the blood clot-"

"They don't have a clot, they don't need to clot, their tooth's growing back already-"

"I'm pretty sure that's not how teeth work?!"

"It really isn't," Trey says, "I mean, I think it's not anyway, unless they have some kind of condition-"

"They have a condition," Ace pipes up from behind him as he hears the faucet run.

Yuu was focused on their inhuman company, holding the bag of ice to their jaw as the floating beast echoed the admonishments of the ghost that held him, but they turn their head to Trey as he approaches.

This is the closest Trey's been to them since the ceremony. Their hair is shorter than it was then, but the fringe is still long enough to mask the upper half of their face if they bow their head. Gold, a yellow shade much brighter than his own hazel eyes, glints between the black strands.

"Hi there," he says, mustering a friendly smile.

They shift and he tenses. He's not entirely sure why- they're just a freshman, and a magicless one too. Just a freshman that . . .somehow managed to overpower two students who did have magic. . . and around whom hangs the heavy scent of iron, ink, and- is that gasoline?!

The ghost suddenly drops the flaming cat on their lap. Thankfully, they don't combust.

Yet.

"Down," the monster snarls.

Yuu leans back into the chair. They tug the handkerchief from their mouth, looking at him. "Good day, Sir Clover. I apologize for not being able to greet you properly. I'm afraid I am. . . occupied."

"Don't worry about it- let's just. . .see how you are." Regardless of the outcome, he fully intends on sending them straight to the infirmary after this quick check-up, to actual medical help. He should still check though, just so he seems reasonable about this, and well, to satisfy that mote of morbid curiosity brought about by Ace's comment.

"Can you open your mouth please?"

Trey's steeled himself for the stronger scent of blood and the possibility of it staining their mouth. He is not prepared to see them snap open their mouth so fast and so wide that there's an audible pop and something wet.

. . . in the seconds it takes for Trey to comprehend that Yuu's mouth could only open that wide with dislocation, Deuce has already taken his place in front of them.

"Yuu, are you okay?!"

Trey's backed up a little, but still manages to see over Deuce's shoulder. There is, in fact, a tiny tip of white rising from an inky pit at the back of their mouth, and it almost seems like it's growing back milimeter by milimeter before his very eyes. There also seems to be new, glistening flecks of dark red blood in Yuu's mouth. And on the outside too. Or maybe it's cheek muscle, torn and exposed from forcing their mouth open like that. Trey doesn't particularly want to find out.

"This is not proper behavior, Yuu." The calm voice draws eyes to Ace as he leisurely lugs the buckets of chestnuts up to the other sink. He doesn't look up to meet any of the glares or stares levelled his way, merely turning on the faucet on he speaks with all the ado of an exasperated mother. "Don't unhinge your jaw like a snake."

The heart's callousness is really the cherry on top of this absurdity.

It tears Deuce's gaze away from his friend. "Can't you be a little more concerned? Try to help at all?"

"Hysteria isn't going to help," Ace replies, rinsing. "And it's already pretty crowded over there, don't you think?"

"You really-!"

Pop!

Yuu's got their head in their hands, one on top and the other on their chin. After a moment, they work their jaw a little, then lower their arms.

"I apologize," they say, looking as calm as they did before, as if the whole painful-sounding affair didn't even happen. There's a odd tilt to their words and face. They push near their ear, causing another uncomfortable noise, but both oddities are gone when they speak. "I did not mean to startle you."

The cat jumps off their lap to start kicking their leg. "Stop! Doing! That! Hench! Man!"

"I apologize, Great Grim, force of habit."

"Force a' habit?!" the ghost exclaims.

"You uh, you doing okay there, Yuu-kins?"

"I will recover. And we are not kin."

That, despite everything, draws a delayed, maybe hysteric, snort from Cater. At the other sink, Ace stops drowning the chestnuts. He raises an eyebrow at Trey. "You done with the checkup yet, doc?"

Trey inhales deeply. In, and out.

It doesn't help the incoming migraine.

"Alright, everyone settle down!"

He's mindful not to yell, because there is a difference between yelling and merely speaking loudly, and the difference is one that even little kids can tell. He filtered out his frustration before he spoke, and sure enough, there isn't a trace of aggression in his words for a screaming match to catch.

Yet.

"Yuu, please go the infirmary. Now."

"I will recover," they reply.

"You're injured-"

"I was injured at the entrance ceremony," they say, standing freely now. "At the path to school. At the mines. At the dining hall." They raise their once-burned arm, tilt their once-scabbed head, like a mockery of a bow. Maybe it is.

"I recovered."

"Yuu-"

"Heading to infirmary will be a waste of time and resources. Sir Trappola, Sir Deuce, and the Great Grim will have to accompany me due to obligations, using time that could be spent baking the tart for Sir Trappola's atonement. There is nothing in the infirmary that can aid my current injuries any faster than merely waiting can. So if I may, I ask to stay here and be of whatever help I can offer, Sir Clover."

. . .they too apparently know the art of tone control, because they speak without a smidge of smugness. Somehow, that irks him more.

"Yuu, you've got some kind of magic allergy, and we're going to be cooking with magic. I appreciate the offer, but you shouldn't be in the kitchen."

The trump card. An effective one, if their silence is any indication. Trey smiles, ready to gently urge them away-

"They could work out there on the tables. It's gonna take a while to finish all those nuts, even with spells."

The suddenly-speaking spectre swoops to the doors and holds one open. He points to the band of runes on the floor.

"There're wards to make sure any accidents in the kitchen stay in the kitchen. Been here since the days of Fireball Fred."

"I said I was sorry!" shouts a sweeping ghost.

"And I still got no brows thanks to you!"

"NONE OF US HAVE EYEBROWS, WE'RE GHOSTS!"

"WELL WERE YOU PENCILLING THEM IN SINCE '67 SO PEOPLE WOULD STOP ASKING 'WHY SO SURPRISED?' "

The other ghost clams up at that.

"Thought so."

"Is Sir Ghost asking me to leave?" Yuu asks, distracting him from the distraction of Fireball Fred.

"Nope," Ace says, moving on to rinsing his second -third?- batch of chestnuts, "The guy said you could work in the cafeteria if you want so magic won't get to you. Something about wards."

"Yuu can't see ghosts," Deuce speaks up.

Trey glances at Cater. Cater shrugs.

"May I stay and help in the dining hall then, Sir Clover?"

Trey looks at them and, well. . . he agreed to this. To helping the freshmen make a tart so Riddle would pardon them. It might have been through a text, but he agreed, and there are still things to be done after this.

He sighs. "Fine. But listen to me, alright?"

"I will try," Yuu says, but at the looks the other freshmen cast at each other, that sinking feeling returns. 

~ ~ ~

A few chestnuts died in the process of Yuu learning how to peel them, but their sacrifice was not in vain. Once they got the hang of it, Yuu was a chestnut-peeling machine.

It was actually more interesting to be out there in the cafeteria than in the kitchen where the magic was, just because they were going at it with such meticulous efficiency that it actually did seem like some trick, like one of those SUPER SATISFYING STREET FOOD vids but in real time.

Cater sends the vid to Deuce over Magicam, and he can hear the freshie's declaration to not be beat all the way from other end of the cafeteria where he's watching Yuu. (Trey had insisted on the distance, just to be safe). He chuckles a bit, and then notices Yuu getting up-

"Hey, where are you going?"

They turn to him, and maybe those are wolf-eyes instead of those of a fae or deep-sea fish. Or maybe it is a wolf-fae's, or a wolf-fish's. Whatever it is, he smiles at them. They do not smile back, but neither do they snarl.

"Please excuse me," they say politely. "I believe I heard Sir Spade-"

So serious. As a waiter or as a student, in stained clothes or the fresh shirt he's gotten them, it's Sir Sir Sir to everyone and anyone, except their cat.

"Deucey's fineee. I just sent a vid, see?"

They bend backwards a bit when he holds the phone up to them, but soon lean towards it. They study it for a moment, gold-ringed irises swimming 'round black sockets as their gaze bounces around the screen, then they flit up a little, probably to the messages.

"You are conversing with Sir Spade, with this device?"

"Uh, yeah? Just used Magicam. Got his handle earlier- oh yeah mind sharing yours?"

"I'm. . .afraid I do not know what that is. The handle you speak of, or of this Magicam."

"Seriously? Pretty much everyone has one nowadays- it's super useful for communication and trends and stuff. Do you have your phone? I'll help you sign up!"

"I'm afraid I do not know what a phone is either, Sir Diamond."

Cater's smile stretches taut. "Like, at all? Or just not this kind?"

They look at him blankly. He slides on the bench to let them sit beside him and they do. He pops his phone out of its case, so it looks more like the bare models in ads and shops.

They hold his phone delicately as they turn it around, as though it were completely made of glass. They frown, a little, muttering about crystals and resin.

"No? Nothing?"

"You mentioned other kinds, Sir Diamond? Perhaps I'd know a phone by a different name?"

. . .If this is a trick, then Yuu's got the best poker face he's ever seen.

Cater takes it back and frowns as he types into the search bar. Telephones, rotary dials, satellite phones, even those ancient ones in walls and cabinets don't bring any recognition to their eyes. They don't know phones by any name, at least, not any kind of phone he knows of. They speak of messenger birds when he presses about communication, or of using syrinxes and shells in combination with metals and wood for whisper-wands.

"Where. . .exactly did you say you're from, Yuu?"

They pry their eyes away from the screen. "I think I've yet to state my origins to you specifically. I am from Tellusaire. Do you know of it?"

"Is that in the Valley of Thorns?" He types as he asks. Assorted foreign-language liquors and journals sharing some letters pop up, but nothing tangentially close.

"I do not think so, no . . . I suppose you do not know it. It is very far from Twisted Wonderland itself, I believe."

He didn't think it was possible to see their expression crumple like that, but he hadn't realized they could looks so fascinated either. Just a moment ago, while they were looking at all those things and at his phone, they had what he could only describe as wonder in their eyes. At least, he thinks that's what it was. Whatever emotion they wore's been smoothed back into something blank and bland. They've even turned their attention back to those nuts again.

Cater frowns. "Are you a fairy?"

". . .I do not think we think of a fairy as same thing, if you could mistake me as one." They briefly raise a hand about six inches off the table. "I know all fairies to be this tall, at most, and winged. I suppose with glamour, they could assume more human form. . .but I have no such magic."

"Are you a mer?" That could explain some of their ignorance about tech (and maybe explain their strange behavior too) , if they ran off to land on their own without any help. . .

"May I ask what-?"

"Mermaid. Man. People. Merpeople. Human up top, fish tail below?"

They blink at him. "Wayfolk?" they try.

"Nevermind," Cater says-

"I am a flesh golem," they say unprompted. "If you wish to know what I am."

Now Cater's staring. "Flesh, like-like a golem, those little rock things but-?"

"Made with flesh. And bone. And blood. And assorted viscera, and such matter. . ."

Cater squints at them as they trail off, trying to compute, to fit together the bloody pieces of a puzzle he isn't sure he wants to assemble. "Like a zombie?"

They look at him with those dead, sludge-black eyes, with that pale, waxen face and the dark veins beneath their skin-

"I do not know what that-"

"Hey Henchman, ya done?"

The monster cheerfully plods over with a bowl of unpeeled chestnuts held over his head. He glances unimpressedly at Cater for a moment, but soon he's grinning at Yuu.

"Nearly, Great Grim, why do you ask?"

"Can ya help me out? Since you're super fast at it~"

The cat looks up at them, and Cater must admit that under certain lighting, if Grim tilts his head like so, he actually looks Magicammable. (And so he discreetly takes a picture for a post. A future post, of course, since Riddle explicitly banned him from doing anything discourteous to the guest, which perfectly innocent posts about their pet might count as, unfortunately).

"Is it not the case with you, Great Grim? Are you having difficulty with Sir Clover's instructions?"

"No way!"

Cater hums. "That bowl looks pretty unpeeled to me though, Grimmy~ You aren't just trying to give your henchman all the work and none of the credit, are you?"

"It ain't my fault Glasses won't let me use a lotta magic!" Grim grumbled. "Someone wouldn't let the Great Grim have his awesome gem y'know."

"Sorry Grimmy-poo, but, we can't have non-Heartslabyul using Heartslabyul property!"

The monster's face scrunches up in a(n also- Magicammable, memable) look of disgust. Was it the nickname? Yuu'd reacted to being called Yuu-kins too right? Like master, like monster, is it?

Then the feline face twists into one of mischief.

"Yuuuuu," Grim purrs sweetly. "You'd tell your boss if Phony here was picking on ya right?"

Cater isn't sure if he should be focusing on the fact that the monster apparently knows what a phone is when Yuu doesn't, or that he can hear the barely-masked malice in the monster's words. (A part of his mind's honestly still stuck at Yuu being zombie, and another still at where they could have come from. Yet another suddenly remembers the curses they off-handed mentioned in the bathroom. Everything's barely confined within the immediate question of whether he can defend himself from the cat should it attack because Yuu's here with their ridiculous magic sensitivity. It's little like the colliding tracks of thought whenever his clones come back together, except apparently, he doesn't need to have used Split Card to bring on that kind of confusion anymore.)

Fortunately, Yuu, polite zombie student that they are, doesn't take the bait. "Sir Diamond has been polite company," Yuu says. "And you should return to your company as well, yes?"

They swap the monster's bowl with their filled one at that. Grim blinks at Yuu.

"Take care not the spill the tribute, Great Grim."

There's a moment of mutual silent eye contact, then Grim gives a grumbly growl about goody-two-shoes and doormats.

"You still owe me a crystal 'cause of him," the monster sulks.

"I owe you a crystal because of myself."

Grim huffs. Cater feels a three-tipped tail smack his ankle as the creature turns around and scampers back to the kitchen.

"Grimmy's kind of cute, huh?"

"Do not let him hear you say so," Yuu says beside him, but there's something resembling a smile as they start on the new batch of chestnuts. It disappears as they tip their head a little lower. "Please forgive me if I seem occupied, for the time being. I am still listening. You were speaking of something called a zombie?"

Caters watches them work again, pale hands deftly working. They don't wince if the spines prick their fingers. They didn't wince earlier, if their tearing their mouth hurt. Force of habit, they said.

"Are you alright? Your," he points at his jaw, when they glance up.

"I am healing," they reply. "The tooth should grow back within the hour. Would you like to see its progress?"

Cater rapidly declines before they can pop their jaw or tear their skin or whatever to give him a peek of their teeth, so they stay focused on their bowl. Prof Crewel probably likes them, he thinks, assuming the teacher hasn't seen the Magicam posts about the murderous mystery student yet. To heal so quick. . .but they're not supposed to have magic? It has to be magic, being able to heal like that. Or is their teeth coming back just a flesh golem thing? Why would anyone make a golem like that? Are they even really a golem? . . .they smell kind of like ink, but blot zombies aren't an actual thing. . .right?

Cater casually types 'blot zombies' into the search bar. "Hmm, you don't want to eat anyone do you Yuu?"

Cater thinks he asks that as a joke. He thinks Yuu might be joking too, especially since they take a long, thoughtful pause, only to eventually give a flat, curt "No."

"You hesitated," he notes jokingly, as you do to keep the friendliness going. "Should I be worried?"

Yuu looks up from their hands. "I am not. . . certain I should speak. I do not wish to apall you, which I believe speaking further on the matter may."

Cater ignores his self-preservation and leans in, and it feels like talking to Lilia, chatting with something old and strange and not entirely safe, but not quite unsafe either.

"Oh now you've got to say it."

"I may upset you with my words." Their fingers still and they seem for a second just another anxious, fumbling freshman. "I'm afraid I've misspoken already, and made you uncomfortable when I mentioned-"

"C'mon Yuu, this Diamond's got thick skin! I gotta admit though- I think I'd be a little offended if I'm not at the top of you list of courses-to-be at NRC."

His eyes may be deceiving him, but Yuu actually seem to relax somewhat, another victim to Catey-kin's charms.

"If you insist," they say meekly, and Cater has his chin propped on hand on arm of elbow on table as he grins like a gossiper ready to hear tea.

All Yuu has to do to seal this sudden shallow friendship between student and other probably-not undead student is to say a statement that may or may not confirm their undeadness.

Yuu proceeds to upend all of Cater's expectations of whatever joking list of potential cannibalism victims they have and also put the liberal use of Catey-kin's charms into question.

"I must admit that I envy the liberality of the mages here in regards to how freely all seem to spend their magic, but I have yet to encounter an individual whose magical potential is worth the effort of incurring the wrath of this academy and the Fly-Prince's curse. Even if I had encountered such a magician, eating is too crude a method to extract their abilities, not to mention grueling and unsanitary. Magic is wasted on me, but assuming it wasn't, I'd rather extract the magic with the appropriate apparatus, if they are present. The flesh could go to fertilizing or feeding the flora or fauna in this institution's menageries, assuming there is such a location, not to offend the character or repute of this academy, should it lack such areas- Whatever the case, I'm afraid to disappoint you, but you need not fear. I have no reason or desire to consume human flesh at the moment, nor in the forseeable future. Nor do I think Grim can consume a body quickly enough to avoid the decomposition of both organic matter and the magical potential stored within, so you can rest assured that I have no intent of butchering anyone for him either."

. . .Cater blinks. Lilia has most definitely never shared or joked about anything close to that level of . . .well, that.

"Cool," he says, painting a smile over his discomfort as easily as he'd paint a rose red. "Thanks?" he adds, because he heard Yuu say that they weren't going to eat him. . .he thinks.

"You're welcome," they say politely, then after a far-too-brief period of them finishing their bowl of chestnuts in blissful quiet, they say, "May I ask you a question as well, Sir Diamond?"

Cater congratulates himself on keeping his friendly-senior-Cater filter on as he says, "Sure! It's only fair right?"

He regrets it when he says it. He braces himself for questions. He's not sure what questions. Could be about a cannibal cookbook. Could be about why their familiar found it fit to call him Phony. Could be anything really, anything that will hook into his brain and give him unwanted, unprompted thoughts in the in-betweens of night and day.

"What is en-ar-si?"

". . .eh?"

"May I ask what en-ar-si is?" they ask slower, clearer, as if that were the problem.

"Enarsi?" Cater quirks an eyebrow. "NRC? Like, N-R-C? Night Raven College? Here???"

They blink. He thinks they flush, faintly. "I see. Thank you. I apologize for my ignorance. I'm still somewhat unfamiliar with the writing system of this place. I did not realize those were letters."

"Is that all?" Cater asks despite himself, and all his other questions that arise.

It's almost funny how unassuming they are now, despite what happened in the cafeteria just hours ago and their casual chatter about murdering and mulching people. They sit quietly on the bench, their hands folded on the table as they look at him bashfully(?)

"May I ask what Heartslabyul is? I'm afraid that I am still not entirely certain, beyond it being a dormitory. . .and I apologize if you stated so earlier, but may I also ask what an Unbirthday Party is? I did not quite catch its definition, and I'd rather not assume and make a fool of myself. . .a bigger fool, I suppose."

Cater stares at them.

"You do not have to respond, if you do not wish to," Yuu says. "You were not tasked to be my minder, you have no obligation to-"

"You sure are an odd one," Cater smiles, "Heartslabyul huh? Well-"

He starts to explain and define, patient and and playful, like a good senior. He wonders if Split Card can split down this floating headache from the cognitive dissonance as easily as it can aggregate his migraines.

~ ~ ~

Cater Diamond is yet another strange one, for a magician, yet another individual more patient and forgiving than you anticipated considering your tactlessness. And your ignorance. And your general being. Perhaps he intends on trading favors the way you've traded questions.

Heartslabyul is in fact a dormitory, one of seven in NRC, Night Raven College. It was founded by the Queen of Hearts, that royal whose title you butchered yesterday.

An Unbirthday Party is a celebration for the sake of celebration, performed on a day when none of its participants were born. Merely a party, performed with pastries and tradition.

When Diamond asks, (warily, despite) smiling carefreely, what you thought it was, you credit yourself for saying "Not that," rather than answering with clarity about execution, as you are wont to do. His refusal to press the matter, this time, reassures you of your choice.

That is good, because you've made a mistake already today. Well, many mistakes, but one chief among them. Eyewitness accounts and rumors of your earlier behavior might pass in time, but ability of those screens to spread information as easily as like dye in water has likely made you repulsive to too many a soul. Hopefully pride and spite between ambitious, aspiring wizards will make you seem like a stroke of good fortune that dragged down two of the incompetent competition, or a nuisance too bothersome to knock down. The students do not seem very keen on avenging their defeated fellows here, at least, even those who share their faction don't crave revenge if the Heartslabyul upperclassmen you've met are any indication.

That may just be due to the values of their dormitory though. Discipline. Severity. Offenders are punished. Those who are slighted, well. . .you wonder if it would be presumptuous of you, to request a favor so soon, especially since you've already been given what you think they think is recompense, with that invitation to their party.

You suppose you'll have to ask later. Shortly after a ghost whisks away your bowl of peeled chestnuts, Diamond receives a message that those in the kitchen are done with peeling and boiling (with magic, apparently), and escorts you there. You are greeted with casual accusations of cheating by helping Grim and arguments of whether this was or was not a competition. Clover seems pleased with how quickly you worked to pull your weight, and so after assuring you of no more magic to be used in the meantime, hands you a hole-punched metal tool to begin mashing the syrup-drenched nuts into a paste with the others.

The sweet mixture smells quite delicious already. You have to dissuade Grim several times from dipping a paw in the puree to have a taste. You're not sure you could afford to replace all the sugar used even with continuous labor, and you're certain none would like to have fur in their tart.

It's a familiar feeling, despite the sheer absurdity of baking treats beside student-mages. The warmth of a kitchen. The scent of something sweet. Gently batting a away too-eager hand. . .the task ends too soon, though Trappola and Spade certainly don't think so by their audible relief.

Clover smiles a patronizing smile. "Good job, your hard work will make it tastier."

Nothing good comes without effort, smiling words said to you- by you- by her-? By him? No. No, not him, the words too warm. Said before then, certainly, long before him but after Flint, when he was, when her ladyship was- when you were-?

A squabble? Lighthearted. Trey laughing. You shouldn't be doing this, spacing out like this, losing focus. Anywhere else, and perhaps she'd be dead (if she's not already). But why shouldn't you, when the people here are softer-

They're magicians.

They are not hostile.

Not intentionally hostile-

But kind-

Tolerating-

Tolerable-

You've only been here for a few days. Is this what you're going to be like? Scatterbrained? Distracted by nice pretty warm things and thoughts? You aren't staying here. You have to go back.

You've been away from her, before. Why are you degrading like this? Something about the magic everywhere? Or is this because it's the first time in years that the separation is not of your volition, not a scheme to lure hunters away before returning to her side? Is it because you're a world worlds? away from her? Is it because she's-

You do not slam the metal implement you are washing into Spade's temple when he taps your shoulder. You considered it for a moment, before you remember where you are and who Spade was, then redirected your energies into gripping the thing instead of swinging it. You leave it in the sink and close the faucet.

"Yes, Sir Spade?"

"We're going to the student store," he says. "We're short on cream and some other stuff. . . you up to it?"

You glance at the others. Breathe in the sweet smell of the kitchen. Make yourself frown. "Not to offend the owner of the etablishment in question, but would an academic store have cream?"

"You'd be surprised at what Mr. S. doesn't have!" Diamond says cheerfully.

With that, the four of you set off on the errand. You all go about it rather leisurely, your companions trying to stretch the soreness of manual labor away. They talk about food, and nuts, and oysters. You say you do not know what an oyster is. They say it's a shellfish, and you say you find the scent of such coastal fare too pungent. Grim is appalled by your lack of taste until he realizes that means more fish for him, should you receive any, at which point he institutes an order for the trade of all vegetables to your person and most fish to his for all future luncheons. His henchman must learn to appreciate some seafood, he insists.

You think that it would be nice if you could have a taste of this tart, when you are done. You do not say aloud that you'd appreciate it much more than fish. You don't say anything at all, really, merely smiling at Grim's suggestion. For all his eagerness for the tart, you believe that fish and its oils will always occupy the topmost corner of his hearts and that anything else might be slander.

You let yourself imagine though, perhaps enough would remain for Grim and the ghosts if you ask politely, and you let yourself have a quiet, reaching, pointless hope- that if there is an excess of ingredients, perhaps with all the spells these magicians so trivially cast, they could also cast a preservative charm on a scrap for you to take to her as well.

Chapter Text

You've no lack of watchful company on this errand. The Great Grim swaggers before you and your minders vigilantly flank your sides. You're reminded of a hero leading a captured scoundrel through town in a walk of shame. . .if the hero didn't know where to go.

Grim saunters right past the student shop (There is a sign with a skulled symbol by the building's door. You'd assumed yesterday, when you were washing the structure's windows, that it perhaps meant this was the house of the academy's mortician who liked collecting trinkets. Apparently not.) If left uninterrupted, you wonder if he'd strut all the way down the road to Ramshackle before realizing anything was amiss.

"Grea- eck, Grim! It's over here!"

The monsters freezes, then turns on his heel. "I was just scouting ahead," he says coolly.

Spade rolls his eyes, and his gaze lands on his dormmate looking at him in disgust. "What?"

"Oh Seven," Trappola steps back. "It's contagious."

"I said Grim!" Spade says, offended.

"Suuuure you were. Totally weren't gonna become the Great Grim's minion-"

"Ha-HA! So you've both finally acknowledged the most amazing magician-"

"I did not!"  they both say, both at once, and then shoot each other a (comically) infuriated look.

They look at you then, and you take that as a sign to reign in the smugness of Grim's grin.

"Shall we look inside, Great Grim? Perhaps it will have more of that tinned fish you like."

The thought must excite him. If not the tuna, then it may be the thought of seeing all the strange, shining, sparkling things he could only glimpse through its windows that has him running in (had its door been open when you arrived?) with such enthusiasm.

You'd join him, but you're stopped before you can cross the threshhold. You're halted before your foot can alight on the three-step flight leading into the shop, even. You can feel something in the air, and you know-

Nothing good will come of taking another step.

It's a passive ward, since you're not being struck down where you stand. Nothing should happen to you if you don't go further. This wasn't here before though. You'd cleaned this building's windows just fine before you washed those of the Hall of Mirrors, you would've felt it then, so why-

"Yuu?"

Spade's looking at you, from the top step. Trappola's inside, but his head leans out the open door before the pain of his neck against the collar's edge makes him step outside properly. (You wonder if the boy's neck will be as red as his eyes, by the time his punishment ends).

"What? You scared? It's a just a store. All the magic stuff in there's bottled up."

You raise the hand at your side slightly, just enough to push pash the unseen barrier. You force yourself to not recoil at the feverish feeling that curdles through the limb like pins and needles and scorchien stingers, venom and all.

You do not grimace. Your hand is unblemished, as if all you felt had been in your mind. You rest it upon the cool material of your ghost-lent satchel.

. . .you didn't try to enter before, did you? Perhaps the wards sense intent. It seems you've forgotten, with all the little kindnesses and goodwill, that this place wasn't meant for you.

You move to the side of the building, and the sensation fades. "I think I should remain out here. I do not wish to break anything, even by accident, and I haven't any funds to purchase goods anyhow. I can watch Grim through the windows, if you're concerned that he will stir trouble. I will help carry back the ingredients when you exit."

"Go buy the ingredients then," Trappola says to Spade. He sits upon the raised side of the stairs as he glances at you. "I'll wait with them out here, since someone might give their teeth away again."

You'd apologize, but you recall that Trappola finds it tiresome, so you don't.

"I'll make it quick," Spade says solemnly, then slips inside. You hear him telling Grim to behave or be booted before his voice is muffled by the closed door.

You see Spade walk up to a figure at the counter. You can't quite see the shopkeep, your view blocked by a shelf, but what little you see of them disappears as they takes the list from Spade. Grim scampers around, looking at this and that. His tail seems to wave at you, when he catches your gaze, before he's hidden by a display. Spade remains in your line of sight though, and uses a hand to do something, that thumb-up gesture he and Trappola performed at the mine. You mimic it, hesitantly, and he blinks before smiling.

"What are you doing over there?"

You turn to Trappola. "Sir Spade showed this, towards me. . .may I ask what it means?"

He raises a hand and does it. "This? Thumbs up? Good job, I guess. Or good or fine. Success." He inverts it. "Opposite's the opposite. Bad or failure, or dislike. . . hey, Yuu,  you know what a coliseum is? Or gods?"

"I haven't heard of a coliseum, but there is god-worship, in my world."

"Probably not Olympians, huh?"

"I have not heard of that name. I'm afraid I don't know much of religion, in general." You were not very welcome in such places, any more than you are here. More of tolerable cold itch there though, compared to this place's boiling wards.

Trappola frowns. "You knew what I meant when I said opposite right?"

"The reverse of something?"

"Yep." His fingers drum his stone seat. "A whole different world. . .Man, it's a wonder we can even understand you at all. You know you talk like an old man?"

". . .I do?"

"All stuffy and formal, and Sir This Sir That-" he rests his cheek upon his fist, looking rather tired. "You could just call me Ace, y'know. Faster that way."

"I'd rather not."

"Of course you wouldn't." He stands and stretches. Mutters about the collar.  "You really have no money on you? At all? No valuables either?"

"I've nothing I'm willing to sell."

"Not even your knives? Pretty sure you're not supposed to be carrying those around here anyway."

It's natural that he wouldn't understand the value of them, but that does little to curb the ire you feel.

"They are not mine to give," you say firmly. You wouldn't sell your knives even if you could part with them, unless it was for her sake, and even then, very unwillingly.

He hums, then takes a leather rectangle from his pocket. He unfolds it as he moves towards you. "I'm telling you this in case you see any on the ground. This is what money looks like here. They're called thaumarks."

"Your currency is parchment?"

"Uh, yeah? Paper money's pretty common. What, does your world use flesh?"

"You are using tree-flesh," you retort. "Tellusaire coin is of bone or common metal."

"Yeah because bones sure are better than tree pulp. Hey, if you see any coins, pick them up too, they could be worth something."

You remember then, a curious thing that you've yet to examine properly. You reach into your satchel and feel around for the leather pouch you saw this morning. You take it and pull its string, revealing a roll of papers bound by a rubber ring and several coins within.

"Is this money, then?"

"So you do have cash!" Trappola exclaims.

"I did not know I did." You did not think the spirits would have provided you such a thing. Perhaps they added it by accident?

The eyes peering into the money-purse widen. "What the heck. . ."

"Is something wrong, Sir Trappola?"

"Give me that for a sec-"

"Do know it isn't mine. I think the ghosts mistakenly left it when they lent me this bag."

"Doubt it," he mutters. "Don't worry, I'll return your money. You think I'd steal from you? You'd probably chop off my fingers off if I take a single mark."

You let him take the pouch then. The rubber practically crumbles away when he pulls it off, and he looks incredulous as he unfurls the papers.

"You've got to be kidding me. These are madol."

"Is that also legal tender?"

"Used to be. See this?"

"An 'M'?"

"Yeah. Oh so you know your letters. Good for you. Anyway, not sure about the coins, but M for madol. Used to be the name for money way back when. Then they changed it into thaumarks. Couldn't tell you why they did it, but they did, and this old stuff's rare now. This much madol has gotta be worth a bit."

". . .thank you for the information," you say, "But it is still not mine to spend."

"Uh huh."

You hold your hand out so he can return the pouch, but he changes one of the old strips for several of his new ones before he offers it to you.

"What are you doing?"

"A trade," he smirks. "You can't exactly buy anything with those old bills, so I'll buy this off you. "

"I'm afraid I can't accept. As I've said, this money isn't mine to give. You may be swindling me, for all I know."

"Hey, I only took one thing from your stash, and its all curled up. I'm giving you double. If it's worth more, then consider the extra as payment for my clothes and your shirt. If it's worth a lot, I'll even split the pay for it."

"Sir Trappola-"

"Sir Yuu," the boy says cloyingly, "Keep it as emergency money then, and let me keep this as insurance. You might need actual money at some point, don't you think? Just in case. If your ghosts say no and you still have all my cash, fine, I'll trade it back. But until then, I'm keeping this. Deal?"

The confident look on his face wouldn't look out of place on Grim's.

". . .You do not seem to value your fingers very much."

His mouth twitches. Grin or grimace, you can't quite tell.

"I'm trading, not taking. There's a difference."

. . .this doesn't seem like a matter he will yield to, so you take back the pouch and his papers. "I will hold you to your word."

"Sure thing."

He tucks his money away with more pleasure than you're accustomed to seeing on him and you look at the symbols of the ones he handed to you. Stamped across it, a T for thaumark. As for those symbols at its corners. . .

The self-satisfied look on Trappola's face fades when he sees you studying them.

"You. . .can't read numbers, can you?"

Numbers. That makes sense, for currency.

"I'm afraid not, Sir Trappola."

He inhales sharply, then sighs as he moves closer. "Alright, come on, do you know one to ten? One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten? Same numbers? Good, and zero too? So this, one-zero-zero, ten tens, is a hundred. . ."

~ ~ ~

Deuce isn't sure what Yuu and Ace are doing huddled so close together outside, but he doesn't see any knives or hear any shouts, so he's assuming it's all fine. It's fine. Everything's fine. Yuu has all their teeth and they're being careful and watched. Ace is doing his part as the watcher. Grim is, for all his running around and nagging demands for tuna, being remarkably disciplined away from Yuu's side.

"Sorry 'bout the wait! It's all a bit heavy."

Before Deuce can say a word, he finds Sam leaping over the counter with the goods and other items floating on silver trays.

"Like what you see? You could get these floating platters to carry your purchases for 30% off!"

"Oooooh!" Grim ooh's, watching them bob in the air.

"Thanks, but I can handle it-"

"I see I see! Still, let's end the demonstration outside!"

Out-?

Grim realizes a second before he does, snapping to attention as he runs to block the doorway-

Only to suddenly trip and roll and roll right smack into the door. The monster blinks, upside-down, then shakes his head furiously as he glares at Sam and rolls to his feet.

Deuce turns to the salesman too, eyes darting to the tray of things he didn't buy. Scissors and needles sharp and aplenty glint among glittering bottles and boxes.

Sam laughs, drawing Deuce's eyes back to the shopkeep. "My my! Don't worry, my little imps! I just need to have a little chat with your friend."

"Why?"

The man smiles as he struts to the door, platters behind him. "To help with their mirror problem of course!"

Grim still guards the path, but the carpet he stands on is quickly tugged away by something, taking Grim out of the way with it.

"Hello there!" Sam says brightly as he steps out into the sun. "You're the one who can't go leaping through our looking-glasses right?"

Deuce picks Grim up then runs after the salesman. Sam glances back, and the door slams shut with a snap. The shopkeep smiles at Yuu.

"Not to worry! I'll make sure not to use any magic that might hurt you. Crafting nearby should be fine, yes? I am sorry about the boundary though- and after you tidied up the outside of my shop so finely too!"

". . .an understandable precaution to protect your wares," they say.

The salesman smile brightens back up. "Let's give you a bit of protection this time, hmm?"

Grim suddenly squirms out of Deuce's grip (and whacks his chin with the tail as he does). "WHAT ARE YA DOING TO MY HENCHMAN?"

"Nothing I was told not to!" Sam tugs on his gloves. There's a slight poof of sorts, they seem brighter, and he wiggles his fingers as he looks over the platter of things.

"Told by the Headmaster?" Ace asks.

"Yep! And some lingering spirits. And a friend of yours who bought a shirt for your friend here, like you did."

Ace hums. Glances at Yuu. "You're not trying to get a wardrobe by messing a ton of clothes up, are you?"

"No. Do you want your shirt returned?"

"Nah. Give me my jacket back after you clean it though."

"Very well."

Grim's still glaring at Sam. "Don't you try anything funny on 'em, you hear?"

"No funny business here, little imp! And as for you, Yuu, I do have your permission to do this, yes?"

"You needn't ask me if the Headmaster's tasked you with this."

"I'd like to hear you say it though!"

They're quiet at that, as they study the smiling shopkeep.

"Do what you must," they say at last.

Sam nods. "Excellent! I will need a bit of hair for this. And some blood."

Grim protests and Deuce grimaces and looks at Yuu, but they're already holding their arm out.

Sam smiles a little smaller as he carefully angles their wrist away from him before uncurling their fist. "This will do."

Sam pricks their finger with a needle, collects the dark drops on a plate, then snips a lock of Yuu's hair off. He moves some things about, the box opens to reveal compartments of ingredients, and his hands become a graceful flurry of activity not unlike a pianist's fingers dancing along keys.

"Hey Yuu."

"Yes, Sir Spade?"

He wants to ask if they're okay, but they've been burned and cut and skinned, and he's very sure that if he asks about how being pricked with a little needle felt, they'd say that was nothing, that they're fine and healed. Maybe they'd throw in how many times they'd been stabbed with needles before, or say it happened when their mouth would be torn open at some hell-dentist's where they're from.

". . .Sir Spade?"

"Just uh-. . .can you play anything?" This is a normal human conversation, yes. He is doing well as someone supervising Yuu by engaging in normal human conversation.

"Could you clarify?"

Deuce nonchalantly kicks a rock, as normal humans nonchalantly occasionally do in normal human conversations. "Can you play an instrument?"

"Oh. I can play everything."

"Cool," he says, then their response kicks in. "Wait, everything?"

"I can play the more common instruments in Tellusaire. I believe I can apply the same to any similar musical apparatus here."

"Fitting for a henchman of the greatest magician!" Grim purrs proudly. The image of the feline monster lounging on a fancy cushion and levitating a spoonful of premium tuna into his mouth while Yuu plays the violin in the background floats unbidden into Deuce's mind.

Yuu smiles at their boss-pet-master-familiar.  "Everyone can play everything. It just wouldn't sound very pleasant since you wouldn't know how to do it correctly."

. . .

. . .

. . .was that a-

"Yuu," Ace says, "That is the lamest joke I have ever heard."

"Oh?" Yuu makes that sound again, the one they did after he and Ace yelled at Grim. "It is only a truth. For example, could sit before an organ, or set you before an organ, and even if you only made the most dreadful noises, you can't deny that you're playing it, could you im-"

They stop abruptly, as though someone had clapped a hand over their mouth. Their expression is unmoving, stuck at that syllable, but then the hands at their sides are curling into fists that seem to be digging their dark nails against their palm. That aside, they're frozen, and they stay frozen, like a wind-up toy out of charge, until Grim pokes their ankle.

Their eyes flit down to the monster. "Yes, Great Grim?"

"What's up with you today? Ya keep zoning out!"

"I am? Oh. Yes. I suppose I am. Have. Twice. Thrice? Been inattentive. I apologize. I am still not quite used to this place. I was thinking too much, and became distracted. I apologize."

"Aaaand done !"

~ ~ ~

Sam turns to the students, a leather pouch dangling from his fingers. He hands it to the Ramshackle student with a smile. They don't return his smile, but they do take it. (Hesitantly).

"There you go, kid! Keep this on you, and you'll be fine. With the mirrors, anyway." He doesn't know if there's anything he can do about. . .the rest, just yet.

The golem looks over the amulet. "Is there a specific way I should wear it?"

"Round the neck should do the trick! But as long as it's on you, you should be alright. Hop through one of the mirrors when you can to make sure it works, and come calling if it doesn't! I'll answer even if it's late."

They thank him before pulling it over their head and tucking it beneath their shirt, the very picture of the polite, obedient pup Divus said they were.

"You wouldn't mind if I use the rest of these, would you?"

They don't even glance at the hairs and blood left on the platter. "Do as you like."

"Nice! Be sure to stop by some time, Yuu especially. I'm sure bunch of lively imps such as yourselves have places to be."

"Right!" says the blue-haired student shopper, and Sam smiles as he turns about, his platter of ingredients tailing him.

"Mister S, the other tray?"

Sam glances back with a grin. "Consider it a thank-you gift for making my windows spick and span and sparkling! My shop isn't usually considered part of the campus, you see. It should help you with your rush right now too."

He shuts the door with a wink.

Sam hears a loud call of thank you from behind the door, then the fading tramping of feet. He frowns as he lifts the plate of blood off the platter. Seems congealed already, too thick for his use. To have so much blot. . .well, the blank mandrake seed earlier was still able to absorb some of the fresher drops. Mixed with ash and mirror-dust and everything else, it should sprout and direct whatever mirror magic Yuu's body can't take towards the root instead.

In theory, anyway.

Sams hums as he returns to the counter. He has a bit of shadow swipe the blood (which resembles a distasteful marmalade more than blood at this point) into a vial as he grabs a pad and pen. After corking the glass and tying the note to it, he sends it over to Divus with a snap. The professor would probably find better use for the stuff than he can, in its state. The professor would likely also prefer that he send the kid to him for check-ups and figuring out how they tick in person, but baking seems like a more fun way to while away some time for now. There will be other days for diagnostics.

He packs away his crafting materials, and pauses as he holds the  bloodstained needle. It seems more tarnished than bloodstained, with how dark its tip is.

. . .would it have been as bad from their wrist? Perhaps their blood was fresher there- that could be a better reason (a more comfortable one at least) for how easily they offered their wrist to him, than assuming he meant to bleed a whole cup out. . .

Well, there will be other days to unravel that particular mystery. They've seemed to have plenty to do in the last two days alone.

Sam hums as he checks on the status of some lenses and other goods in delivery, then sets himself to pondering when to start on the attempts at amulets for the rest to ensure their ingredients' freshness and efficacy as he watches the door.

~ ~ ~

"Clean as you go" is a sensible rule for anyone working in a kitchen. It reduces clutter and messes and makes the final cleanup at the end much less of a chore. It is also the rule that led Trey to finding a potato masher in the sink with metal tube of a handle that was less of a metal tube and more akin to a miniature modern art scultpure with its squiggly shape. As other pieces of modern art tend to do, it made Trey question some things, mainly the matter of why he let someone who could do this with their bare hands go along with two of his Heartslabyul underclassman.

Thankfully, the group of freshmen-and-monster return from the store whole and uninjured, if a little spent by the run.

"Eh? You actually bought that?"

Trey follows Cater's gaze to the floating tray lagging behind the group.

Yuu's the only one not panting. "Mister S. gifted it to me for cleaning his store's windows yesterday."

It's laden with more bags than Trey anticipated, and he briefly thinks that they may have taken the change for their own use before Deuce gives him the leftover money. He breathes a sigh of relief-

Then Yuu steps forward to hand him a wallet, candidly saying "It's not mine" as they do, and they seem to be about to say something else when Ace suddenly spouts an "I didn't tell them to do that!"

Trey glances at Deuce, but the student looks as baffled as he is.

"When we were returning," Yuu says, "we encountered some members of your dormitory-"

"You pickpocketed those jerks?" Grim exclaims with too much pride.

"Yuu." Deuce sounds as impressed as he is mortified. Trey is only the latter beneath his neutral vice dorm head expression.

"I did not steal it, and we were not accosted. They ran off on sight. Sir Trappola and Sir Deuce told me not to bother with them, so I did not. Neither did Grim. But I believe one of them dropped this." Still calm, not a hint of smugness or shame as they hand him the wallet.

He cautiously takes it from them, and they don't wait for any other acknowledgement before they go to help unload the purchases from the platter. There's an ID in a pocket with the face of a familiar gray-haired student, and a fair amount of madol. He hands it to Cater and the senior's quick to snap an image.

Yuu's back's to him. They're talking to Deuce about stationery in the bags, he thinks, when Trey calls to them.

He isn't quite sure what it is that makes him pause. They're looking at him now with same neutrality they usually do. The weren't showing any unnerving signs earlier, there wasn't anything to set off alarm bells that they'd be a danger this time. They were just smiling at-

Oh. They smiled.

It hadn't been the patient kind they shone at Grim to placate the monster, but a bright one (relatively speaking, but still). They'd had a genuine, more unrestrained sort of smile- before they turned to him, before it turned into the kind of look you get when you're caught doing something bad that isn't even bad that isn't fair, he was just having fun just playing with us so why is she so mad at  -

And then nothing. The polite blankness of awaiting orders smoothed over that split second of painful-to-see self-consciousness.

Yuu's very obedient, throughout the rest of the tart-making. They do their share of mixing and pureeing. They take on more tasks without complaint, if asked. If they smile, it's placatingly at Grim. They don't look at Trey with any particular malice or melancholy, after that moment. They don't ask to stay when it's time for magic to be used again, but when he says they don't have to go all the way to the far end of the cafeteria, they seem to thank him sincerely.

It should be fine. There's the barrier ward  between cafeteria and kitchen, and if any leak out, the senior at their side can probably stop them from levitating with the cream.

When he declares the tarts finished with his juniors and Grim, Yuu congratulates them with the others. They're soon busy teasing out the blob of chestnut paste stuck on Grim's back.

"Good work!" Cater cheers, and Trey steps away from the counter before the redhead even lifts his phone to let the fellow third-year access his beloved aesthetic angles. "The decorations are super cute and it's mega Magicammable! Let me take a pic!"

"You didn't help," Ace sulks.

"Aww don't say that. I was morale support for Yuu there! You can't tell me you don't feel beat doing that too~"

"They didn't beat you with a cauldron.

". . .they didn't what now-"

"I dropped a cauldron on him," Deuce mumbles. "It was an accident!"

"Uh huh."

Cater blinks. "Wait. That's the fight that made the Headmaster keep you busy last night?"

"Uh huh. Well. And the knife thing, for me," Ace pauses, "Other knife thing."

Deuce narrows his eyes at the other first-year. "When was the other knife thing?"

Ace gives him a look. "I told you last night?" He uses one hand to point at the other open one's wiggling fingers. "With the cauldron and the chasing and who owes what. Is there a straw in your brain draining the juice-"

"Right. Sorry, I was busy trying save Yuu while you wanted to run-"

"For help -"

"To save your skin -"

"I apologize for the trouble I've caused," Yuu says. The grumpy monster in their arms has a wet spot where the paste used to be as he stares daggers at the sink. "But may we focus on the matter at hand? Is the tart ready? May I ask how Sir Trappola is to present it?"

Ace shoots them a look before sighing. "So what? I box it up and put it back in the fridge?"

The sudden shift back to things known makes Trey falter for a moment, but he's quick to shift gears.

"Oh?" Trey raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to try it first?"

"Is there some dumb rule to replace the thing meant to replace the thing stolen? If so, then no."

Trey smiles. "The smaller one here's made for now. Best to make sure what you're giving is worthwhile right? And we should wait for the bigger tart to cool before we box it up."

Trey grabs a knife and begins to slice. "Baking is tiring if you haven't done it before, and the perfect remedy for tiredness is something sweet. See for yourself how good a freshly-baked mont blanc is!"

He can't help but feel a little surge of pride as Ace's eyes light up at the first bite. Seems his skills can brighten even this freshman's sour disposition. The heart mutters an awed swear as Trey cuts a slice for everyone else. Deuce says it's store-quality, Grim says some surprisingly flowery words about a garden of chestnuts in his mouth, Cater says it's good with only a touch of exaggeration and Yuu-

"Hey Henchman, aren't ya gonna eat that?"

Yuu blinks. "It's not meant for the spectres?"

Cater's trying to get the right shot of himself and the dainty bite taken out of his slice. "The ghosts left while you guys were out. Said they had other things to do."

They eye it. "Grim has already had a slice, and we are officially only one student-"

Grim stops devouring the tart like a starving animal (did he- did any of them have lunch, after the fight?) to glare. "One student, two mouths- don't go being all stiff and uppity now ! You're gonna ruin the flavor if ya keep being a killjoy!"

"Does it taste bitter?" Yuu asks, alarmed.

"It's not poisoned," Deuce says before Yuu can snatch or slap the tart slice from their monster. He takes another bite.  "See? And it's really good, promise!"

Trey would be more offended if Deuce didn't sound so dead serious when he said that, like it was a legitimate concern.

"The Ramshackle ghosts-"

"Can have that," Ace says firmly, gesturing at the sizable wedge of the smaller pastry still remaining. "You did a lot. You're gonna make all of us feel bad if you don't eat any."

". . .you can eat now, right?" Deuce asks more tentatively, not-so-subtly-angling his head as if to peer into Yuu's mouth.

"I can."

"Then just eat it already!" Grim snaps, eyeing the the tart, before I do unsaid.

. . .they weren't allergic, were they? Sure, they  used magic to bake it, but Trey can't imagine what harm that could cause when there weren't any infusions occurring. Then again, it wasn't just an allergy but sensitivity, so maybe-

"You don't have to," Trey says quickly-

Cater's pout is paired with a dramatic sigh. "But you don't want to break Trey's heart, do you?"

"I meant no offense-"

"None taken," Trey says, shooting Cater a look so panicked it makes the third-year flinch. Trey fixes his expression as he does his glasses. He smiles apologetically. "Sorry Yuu, I should have considered your condition-"

"My condition does not preclude me from consuming food made with magic, so long as the meal and its ingredients have no magical effects. You've done me no slight."

They look at him with that irritatingly blank face and voice and he can't tell if they're being honest or over-polite.

Ace looks at their tart, his own long-demolished. "Well you do eat, there's no poison and magic isn't the issue, so what's the problem now?"

Cater, apparently quick to recover from whatever Look Trey had worn, managed a smile. "C'mon Yuu, you should try new things! Trust your seniors- Trey's family runs a patisserie, you know?"

He knows the fundamentals at the very least, and well enough at that to adapt a cookbook recipe into something bigger and grander and fit to present at an Unbirthday Party. But he would very much like to not have his family's business be known to have poisoned a magicless student through him.

". . .your parents own a bakery?"

He should take their possibly-magic-bearing tart away now before anything can occur, but the sudden brightness in their voice and gaze startles him.

"W-well, yes-"

It's not quite surprise that flits through Yuu's eyes- well, that's certainly part of it, but it seems more relieved than that-like somone finally solving an equation after hours, or slotting in a final part to a thousand-piece puzzle.

"Oh." they say. "Oh, I see. I will enjoy it then, thank you."

They delicately lift the tart slice to their mouth and take a bite of it. They must be hungry- their pet and the other freshmen certainly ate theirs up quick, but still they savor the little mouthful they've taken.  The way a small smile blooms on their face from that one little taste makes them look almost like- 

"Told you so!" Deuce grins.

Ace huffs. "Jeez, didn't take you for the picky type."

"I didn't mean to seem so. I only-" they cut themself off, then turn to Ace. "Sir Trappola-"

"Are you going to mention choppings things up for bone-money? " the redhead retorts.

". . .no?"

"Fine. Shoot."

They look at him blankly. "Shoot-?"

"Say your speech, you old coot."

"Hey! Who ya callin' a-"

A sharp click draws eyes back to Yuu. A knife's swiped through their fingers and disappears into their sleeve before they nudge a slice of their tart slice into Grim's paws.

"Sugar is rather scarce, where I'm from. In the northern lands , especially, where I was previous to being. . .to coming here. Usually only the high-born could afford such indulgences. It gets cheaper as you travel south, but even so, the expense is. . . something like this mont blanc, with how much was used- I did not want to seem like a greedard, taking advantage of your generosity, considering the position I am in, at the moment. But since Sir Clover's family owns a patiserrie, he'd be well-educated on the expenses of such goods, or have access to ingredients more readily. And if he's willing to give it so freely, then perhaps sugar is as abundant here as the chestnuts seemed to be, or it really isn't that costly. This land in general seems much more abundant than that which I came from- certainly, magic seems to saturate your daily life. In hindsight, even if sugar were still difficult to cultivate and export, I suppose growth and transportation spells could could cut the cost. . ."

"Sugar isn't that expensive." Deuce frowns. "Pretty sure the eggs cost more."

"Truly? I apologize for my ignorance, I am still unfamiliar with many customs and what is commonplace, in this region. I'm. . .rather disoriented by how I arrived at Twisted Wonderland at all."

Trey doesn't think ebony carriages have done more than make the odd student motion-sick when they wake up, but then, most students in a magic school weren't magicless with magic allergies. "You should go to the nurse's office if you're still feeling unwell from the trip."

"I would rather not trouble the doctor with such a minor matter. . .ah, Sir Clover, you are the vice head of your dormitory, yes?"

"Yes?" Cater must have told them, when he told them about Heartslabyul. (No magicless, magic-sensitive, taken to NRC without knowing what it was or even the Great Seven probably, if they're not from Twisted Wonderland- Riddle was right, this was one of the most ridiculous situations he's ever come aross.)

"I thank you truly for aiding Sir Trappola in his his task, and for the tart. I hope I do not sound impudent, after you've been so generous already, but may I visit Heartslabyul?"

Alarms ring in Trey's head. Smoke alarms mostly, their beeps rising with his blood pressure, at the possibility of all manner of fires he can't put out. "You don't need to get my permission for that, but now's not the best time to visit- there's a lot of prep going on for the Unbirthday Party, and well, a lot of magic, being used." 

"I see. Is there a better date I may come?"

"Why'd you want to come visit anyway, Yuuey?"

"My reasons are twofold, Sir Diamond." Yuu proceeds to tug a cord from their neck to show. . .some kind of pouch? "First is to test this charm, which Mister S gave to me at his shop earlier. It is meant to alleviate my mirrorsickness. He asked that I test it when possible, and I know no other dormitory whose members I can ask the favor of. Second. . . I hope to meet with Heartslabyul's secretary to set an appointment with the queen, if I may."

Trey turns more confused and amused than concerned. "Yuu, there's no secretary. But I could probably grab Riddle for a moment after croquet some time. . .can I ask what for ?"

"To apologize for keeping his dorm members late, and for letting some come to harm.  To apologize for keeping you, the vice head, when there must be plenty to do to prepare for the party. To apologize since I cannot accept the invitation your superior has graciously extended."

Grim slumps. "You still don't wanna go?"

"I do not wish to spoil the feasting with my sickness should I arrive unwell, if this amulet fails. We do not know the proper etiquette, Great Grim, nor have any appropriate dress. I'd surely make a fool of myself, if I attend, and disgrace the whole party. And to be truthful- and I mean no offense to your queen- I do not wish to be subject to his nullifying magic, should I err."

"Can't say Off With Your Head isn't a bit scary. . ." Cater frowns. "But you were nearby when Riddle used his UM at the entance ceremony, and you weren't affected, were you?"

"That's right! Hey Henchman, ya didn't get collared at that opening thing last last night!"

"I hadn't sustained as many injuries as I have, the other night, and targeted magic in general affects me less by nature of it being willed towards a specific mark. Also, your leader must be quite skilled to be in his position."

"Skilled enough to make sure you're fine at the party?" Deuce suggests.

"I'd rather not risk it."

"Yuu."

"Yes, Sir Clover?"

"Can I know how many times have you've been to the infirmary already? And the causes?"

NRC was known for budding magicians with not only power, but pride. The lunch incident was evidence enough of what can happen when pride gets the better of dumb kids, and they find what looks like an easy, magicless target that got into a prestigious school when only select people can get in. The headmaster's notorious for being a bit slow to act, but Yuu already has guides. Not seniors, with skilled magic and UMs, but freshmen still learning the fundamentals who may not even be able to use magic well yet or be able to start depending on it for little inconveniences.

They don't want to go to the clinic. Maybe they're certain it won't help because they already tried. Maybe they don't like doctors. Maybe they really just depend on whatever not-magic thing they have that keeps them fine. A magicless's magic that heals their burns and grows back teeth and stitches together skin they've torn from force of habit, a habit developed in a place he's never heard of that Cater mentioned something about cannibalism about and they can always just heal and be fine-

He has to be overthinking this, the way Yuu is overthinking about secretaries for appointments and needing to apologize for every little possible slight. A burn to the arm, a scuffle with seniors, a knife fight of some kind, a lost tooth. That's all they've undergone. That's all, he lists, as though that in itself isn't concerning. 

Why hasn't Yuu responded, then?

They're eyeing Ace again, but the redhead doesn't prompt them this time. They then turn their eyes to Cater and his tart as they lower their own tart. "I fear this conversation may soon stray into topics that may affect appetites."

"He asked for it," Ace says, with a certain look at Grim, then sets his cherry eyes back to Trey. "We went to to the infirmary this morning for Yuu to get a check-up about their mirror problem. That was the only time. The doc visited last night when we got back too though, if that counts."

"Guy was useless," Grim grumbles.

"Not unreasonably so," Yuu says, "The doctor was only made aware of the issue the night before. I believe he told Mr. S as Sir Diamond and the Headmaster had- the shopkeep seemed to be anticipating me."

Trey frowns. "Your mirrorsickness is-?"

"Vertigo. Nausea."

"Nausea," Ace echoes dryly. "Um yeah, no, they looked like they were having a heart attack. They said their insides flipped."

"And they did throw up from it," Deuce adds with a squeamish look before he shakes it off. "Twice."

"You didn't mention that-" Cater cuts in.

"There wasn't the time, with classes soon to begin."

So they probably didn't eat, so they didn't go get checked up after getting scalped- "You found out you had this mirror problem when?"

"Shortly after using a mirror for the Headmaster's task."

Trey stared at them. "And you didn't go back to school immediately?"

Ace jabbed a thumb Yuu's way. "Nope. They said they didn't want to get sick again."

"I recovered well enough for the task ahead."

"What did the Headmaster have you guys do anyway?" Cater asks.

The freshmen look at each other

Deuce crosses his arms. "Do we just. . .start from the top?"

Ace shrugs. "They should know the kind of guest they're inviting, right?"

"Do we gottaaaa?" Grim pushes his head against Yuu's arm and looks up with big blue eyes. "Come on Henchman, just say we'll go to the party! You won't stab anybody right?"

"It's not a very long account," Yuu says, turning away from Grim. "What's relevant is that I came to NRC the other night by accident, and so initially came into an agreement with the Headmaster to serve with manual labor, with the Great Grim as companion. The next morning, while cleaning the statues on Main Street, I encountered Sir Trappola. I believe this is the other knife fight he was referring to. . ."

~ ~ ~

One might say it really wasn't that long an account, if they didn't consider the contents of said account. Yuu finished listing their injuries in about two and a half minutes, though the recording goes on for a while longer than that brief, bloody report, catching the incredulous questions and calm, quiet, occasionally unnerving answers. Riddle lets it run despite this interlude cutting into Hedgehog Time, and Riddle lately being in a mood where he seemed to need Hedgehog Time and knew that he needed it.

"So yeah. They uh, they reaaally don't think they should come." Cater reaches over Riddle' shoulder to swipe from from voice recordings to videos. "They asked to take a quick video to tell you some things too, to apologize, in case you're too busy to talk right now."

". . .you said they were waiting at the Hall of Mirrors?"

Cater nods. Riddle hands him back his phone.

"Make sure the way to the rose maze is clear of anyone, especially the area near the mirror. There shouldn't be any painting left to be done. . .but if there are any students still on painting duty, send them to Trey indoors to aid in other preparations. I give you four minutes."

"Yes sir!" Cater says, as compliant and cheerful as a good card soldier. Some of his clones had set off to paint when he came back with Trey and Deuce. Hopefully Riddle won't notice how damp the roses still are, or decide to examine the state of the roses in the dead ends and-

Cater stops. "Wait, you're actually letting them- not to question your decisions but- Dorm Head, are you sure-"

"Three minutes, forty-seven seconds, Cater. And if you see Deuce Spade, tell him to meet me at the maze entrance."

"Yes sir!" Cater says again, just as Deuce exits the dorm with a bag of his and Ace's things for their overnight stay at Ramshackle.

"Oh uh, g- good afternoon, Dorm Head Rosehearts!"

"Good evening," Riddle sighs, whether correction or mere greeting Cater can't tell. "Deuce Spade. I need to have a word with you."

Cater turns to the rose maze before Deuce can turn his panicked eyes to him for help. As he sets off to complete Riddle's orders, Cater wonders if he should pity Deuce more than himself, at the end of this.

Chapter Text

"What will you do?"

"Enter and leave."

"If someone threatens you?"

"Leave."

"If someone asks for your teeth or anything else?"

"Leave."

"If you get lost-"

Ace groans. "Stop nagging and get on with it!"

"Go scout ahead, why don't you?!"

"I already did. It's clear. For now."

Deuce shoots him a glare before returning his stern gaze to Yuu.

"What do you do if you get lost?"

They tap the pocket holding Deuce's phone. "Send Sir Trappola's device a photograph of a landmark in my surroundings, wait to be found, avoid conflict."

"Good," Deuce says. "Okay. Grim-"

Grim takes that as his cue to clamber up to Yuu's shoulder and plant himself as firmly as he can without using his claws, which in this case, means dangling around their neck like some fancy lady's plush fur muffler. He waves a paw dismissively.

"Stop smothering, I'll stick with 'em."

"Ace-"

"Yeah, yeah." the redhead says, rolling his eyes as fingers wrap around Yuu's wrist. "I seriously doubt they'll end up on the other side of the dorm though."

"You don't know that," Deuce retorts, taking Yuu's other hand.

"I know that we look stupid right now."

Deuce. . .can't really deny that. Here they are, standing with hands linked like little kids crossing the street, one collared and one with a cat around their neck. The mirrors all around them gives a multi-sided view of the sight. If there's one good thing about the lateness, it's that there aren't any students milling around and catching them like this.

He glances at the pocket where his phone is, and resists the urge to make sure Cater said they could try and enter. The sooner this is over with, the better.

"Ready Yuu?"

"As I can be."

They all shuffle through the mirror. Its liquid glass barely feels like anything as Deuce passes through, enveloped by light, but he thinks he feels Yuu's hold on his hand tighten.

He lets go once they're all on the other side and immediately looks at Yuu. They're in one piece, which is Good. They're also not on their knees like last time. Also Good.

"How ya feeling Henchman?"

They're staring at a the ground between their feet. "Disoriented," they say slowly. "Significantly less so than before. . . I think I am alright."

Grim whoops and Deuce lets himself smile at the little victory.

"And the amulet?" Ace asks.

Yuu pulls it out from their shirt with fumbling fingers. It looks intact, but Ace grimaces.

"Is it just me or is it darker?"

They squint at it. "I am still a little blinded, but that may be the case."

That dampens Deuce's mood. Maybe it's just the setting sun playing tricks on everyone eyes, but with their luck. . .well, he shouldn't just be standing around.

"Yuu," Deuce says, standing before Yuu, hands upon their shoulders as he looks into Yuu's eyes and ignores the Grim-muffler-hat upon them because this is a serious matter. He channels the spirit of stern scolding teachers and his grandmother, and hopes he can succeed with Yuu where his elders didn't with him.

"I'm just grabbing stuff and coming back. I'll be quick. Please, please don't do anything. . .y'know."

"I will try not to, Sir Spade."

"They were fine at Sam's they'll be fine now, just go."

Deuce would glare at Ace on principle, but the less time spent here the better.

Hopefully, it will be as easy as the redhead thinks it will be. He makes sure he has the room numbers in mind and heads through the maze. In and out, in and out. . .

~ ~ ~

Heartslabyul is gorgeous.

Grass that's springing up green and alive. Fragrant smells and lush sights as far as the eye can see! With paws planted upon his henchman's head to push him up, he can catch a glimpse of the palace of a dorm building beyond the hedges. This is the place fitting for a great magician like him, but all he gets is a crummy shack! The world is so unfair.

"Please mind my eye, Great Grim."

Grim lifts the paw that was slowly sliding towards their right eyeball, then sighs as he slinks into their basketing arms.

So, so unfair.

Familiar fingers brush his fur and draw some of his ire away with their idle movements. Or maybe that was just the stray leaf now in Yuu's hand. More bits of green flutter away from the nearby hedge with the breeze.

The firehead's frowning at the hedge's general direction, but the guy seems to frown at everything. Now he frowns at the Grim frowning at him, then at his henchman which further furrows the freshman's brows. Grim follows his gaze to find Yuu staring into space again.

"Hey Yuu," Ace drawls, loud and lazy, as slow as they are to react with turn. "Can you leave yet?"

". . .I suppose," they say, back straightening, (the back of Grim's head bumps into their collarbone- all the more reason they should eat, to add cushioning to their pointy bits).

They seem to glance around, a bit more leisurely than they usually are, maybe taken with the niceness of the place too, as they follow after Ace to the mirror a few feet away. Guess this little break was over.

Then Deuce comes barrelling in.

Ace moves to pocket the hand he'd held out for Yuu and which they'd taken only moments before. He smacks their hand back to their side and crosses his arms. "What now?"

"Ah-erm-"

A smaller, redder firehead steps out from behind Deuce and the load of bags. Grim prickles at the sight of him, and even his henchman's soothing hand can't quite smooth his panic down. He squirms out of their arms and bristles behind their leg. A chill runs down his spine, cold as a collar in icy rain.

The brat has a crown on his head now, and looks at him like he's some bigshot looking at a bug. Grim tries to rein in the crackling hiss in his throat before a flame can spark (if it even can with the redhead so close-)

"Good after- good evening?" his henchman says mildly. "I apologize for my intrusion on your dorm and for Grim's rudeness, and for-"

The tyrant raises a hand. Yuu's voice cuts off and like a fool Grim finds himself standing in front of his henchman instead of behind them like a boss should be. He guesses they're all fools though, since Ace and Deuce seem closer to Yuu than they were a moment ago too.

The tiny firehead's hand falters before he lowers it. Grim will gladly attribute that to the One and Only Amazing Grim's intimidating aura.

"You can cease those apologies. Please be at ease- I will refrain from using any magic near you."

"I see." Yuu says. "I thank you for your consideration. May I know why you've graced us with your presence, Your Highness? May I aid you in some manner?"

The sudden formality might be mocking if it weren't for the seriousness in their voice. It makes the kid wear a funny look though, and when he looks at his other minions, Grim can't tell if they're trying not to laugh or scold.

"I would like to speak to you in private, Yuu. May I speak to you in private?"

He's little softer when he talks, but it makes Grim think of babytalking brats trying pet him and how catchers would croon to coax him out of cozy corners. True morons the other two, to step back from just that. Or maybe he was just imagining that they were ever gonna help at all.

"May I know the subject?" Yuu asks.

"Your condition, mostly," the boy replies. "Other matters of relevance as well. I will try not to take too much of your time, but time is of the essence here."

They ain't goin anywhere with you!-

Grim wants to say that. To stand up and spit fire at the wannabe ruler, just a tiny one that wouldn't get anyone into too much trouble, pathetic as that might be. Yuu's too spineless, bowing at everyone but him. A lotta red-vested guys he saw walking around had collars. It was bother on his neck but his henchman- their scrawny spine might snap from the weight of it-

"Great Grim."

He didn't really notice how tense he was, until he's blinking up at their golden eyes. There's something smiley about em, even if their mouth stays straight.

"Please do behave."

". . .you're just really gonna walk away with anyone who asks ya, huh?"

"Great Grim-"

"Lemme guess- 'This is an authority',"  he parrots sourly. 

"Yes," Yuu says, "One of a house founded upon disclipline. I think it likely he should keep his word, and Sirs Trappola and Spade seem amenable to it. This henchman will return as soon as allowed."

Grim finds his tail winding around Yuu's ankle nonetheless. "You better not come back red or inky."

"I will try to behave as well."

I'll be alright, he seems to hear too, but they didn't say that so clear, if they did at all.

"You better," Grim sulks. "I can't go around being halfa student y'know?"

~ ~ ~

Riddle has to resist the urge to keep glancing backwards.

It's uncanny, how silent they are. The grass crunches softly under even his light footsteps, but it's almost as if they're a  floating spectre, to follow him so soundlessly.

He knows the maze like the back of his hand, it won't take long for them both to be where they need to be, but the silence is becoming unbearable bothersome.

"Did they tell you to do that?"

"To do what, may I ask?"

"Call me 'Your Highness'?"

". . .is it incorrect?"

He has to glance behind him now, but just as earlier, there's no mirth to their words. Their eyes (curious things, black where they should be white, gold dully glinting behind the ebony strands) aren't crinkling in jest and no smile hides around the corners of their mouth. (No blood either, or scab, or bruise, from the earlier fight, or any other events that have transpired).

Riddle looks ahead. If this is a prank, they didn't seem privy to it. "Heartslabyul may be founded on the severity of the Queen of Hearts, but we're not a court or kingdom, and I am not a royal. I am only a dorm head here, and I'd prefer to be addressed as such."

"I see," they say. "Very well, Dorm Head Rosehearts."

He guides them through a corner path barely visible, and they've made it then, to a rabbit-white gazebo hidden among the hedges. He enters the structure and sits on one side of the round table within it.

"No one will hear us here," Riddle says.

It's a fairly isolated place- he'd only known of it when Trey showed it to him. He'd earlier painted the rose-tree here himself since it might be missed otherwise. . . he turns away from said tree to find Yuu standing straight and stiff as a card soldier.

". . .you may sit."

They do. Their posture remains perfect, surely unassailable by even Vil with their back straight and hands folded neatly upon their lap as they look at him without raising their head. It's surprisingly deferent, for someone outside his dorm. He'd find it refreshingly respectful after dealing with all the unruly Heartslabyul he has, if their habit of apologies and the way they seemed to flinch at his raised hand earlier wasn't also something to consider.

"Please be at ease," Riddle says. He can't give a calming smile quite like Trey, but he's perfectly capable of speaking evenly. "I meant it, when I said I'll refrain from magic use. I don't intend to harm you. I called you here because I'd also like my dorm members to avoid harming you. . .to avoid injuring you any further, at any rate."

" . . .you mean to ask what ways I can be damaged, then?"

Their phrasing is. . .not ideal, but neither is it incorrect.

"In a manner of speaking," Riddle affirms, "But I'm not asking for your weaknesses for the sake of idle gossip. I'll only use what you tell me to inform my dormitory of general actions to follow or avoid."

It is a reasonable request, something that can benefit them both, but they show no relief nor gratitude.

"I do not think it possible," they say slowly, "For you to achieve what you aim to."

"What do you mean?"

"I hear many are collared in Heartslabyul already, and I doubt such magic can be sustained without cost. . . you would have to collar your entire house to prevent any chance of harming me, which would certainly be to your detriment."

A frown tugs away what little remains of his attempted smile. "Is your condition so drastic?"

"It is if your goal is unchanged. A spell for a soft breeze will cut me. A light bolt of magic will tear through my flesh. So long as the members of Heartslabyul are capable of casting magic, spells may stray; therefore, so long as I continue to be at this institution with them, you cannot guarantee my safety."

"I can mitigate further harm from Heartslabyul, at the very least."

"Sirs Spade and Trappola already are." They sound sincere about that, despite his own misgivings about their freshmen guides.

"Not sufficiently," Riddle says. "Your earlier incident. . .incidents, are proof of that."

". . .may I speak frankly, Dorm Head?"

He uses a hand to clamp down the one he was about to gesture with. "Please do."

They lift their head a little. "I doubt senior members of Heartsabyul would be any less lacking. I am an anomaly here- I have put even the Headmaster at a loss, and Sirs Clover and Diamond seemed the same. There is little I can tell you beyond what you've been informed of. I am capable of recovering from my injuries, so you need not concern yourself with it."

"As long as you're escorted by Heartslabyuls and my dorm members and I myself remain uninformed, I do need to concern myself with it. So, would you kindly give a more detailed explanation of your condition beyond mere sensitivity?"

Riddle thinks they may remain taciturn (they're certainly playing the part of a garden's silent, stock-still statue), but then, they do speak, and that only deepens Riddle's frown.

"My. . .condition. . . magnifies the effect of certain magics, particularly those with hostile intent, upon my person, and draws such magic towards myself to affect me for the worse. Targeted magic directed towards another may not strike me as easily as general spells might, but I may be affected regardless if sufficiently injured beforehand, or if the caster's will falters from distance or lack of focus. For more passive magic, boons and banes of elixirs take effect and end sooner while enchantments of charmed items should not affect me if properly bound to their objects. Is that sufficient, Dorm Head?"

They look at him now. Their eyes (black and yellow behind black, like the striped sashes of Heartslabyul, like caution tape) bore into his. Something of it chills him, as though he found a wolf while on a walk. Something of it chides him, as though he were the beast.

He cannot help but think that they look very, very tired. (They might be cursed, Cater had said apprehensively, when reporting after the delivery. It's not hard to see why they'd consider themselves so.)

"It's quite severe, your affliction. . .I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to live with it. I apologize on the behalf of my dorm members who've made things more difficult - they will face proper consequences, I assure you."

"I have recovered," they reply, gaze drifting away. "And I don't require further retribution. They're already collared, are they not?"

"Given your condition, they could have put you in a hospital or killed you, Yuu, had they used magic."

"They did not know of my condition," they state calmly.

"Ignorance excuses no one," Riddle retorts. "And even if you weren't at great risk, what they did was disgraceful."

"Have you acted disgracefully then, in ignorance of my affliction, that you so poorly handled your subordinates that you must perform a public apology as well?""

"Yes."

His curt answer makes their eyes turn back to him. A curious smugness creeps a smirk onto Riddle's lips.

"I intend to do so officially at the Unbirthday Party tomorrow- only the guest I'm to apologize to seems adamant on not attending."

"You should we well-aware by now, why I'd refrain."

"You should have more trust in my capabilities as a dorm head."

"By your own admission, your capability has been lacking."

"Which is why I will prove it tomorrow."

"You can make a show of discipline without me, surely."

"That would make an example to my dorm members. It would prove nothing to you."

"You've proven yourself to be repentant, and to seek reparations. You don't need to do anything further."

"Yet you don't trust me enough to accept the reparations and come to the party tomorrow."

"Does it matter, that I do not trust you? We are strangers beyond your status as a superior to my minders."

"It matters that I leave the impression of an untrustworthy leader."

It matters that his failings have resulted in the harm of someone ill- as an aspiring healer, as a son of healers, that is a particularly heinous thing to consider, and Riddle finds himself wishing for Trey's sweets to wash away the bitter taste in his mouth.

"Does it matter that I still choose to decline?"

Riddle breathes in. Exhales. Repeats. How difficult they're being! Perhaps they are a statue, the stubborn speaking sort that won't cease repeating the few words it's made to echo.

"Do you have reason for your refusal beyond your physical affliction?" Riddle presses (because he can't be that untrustworthy, can he-? That unreliable, that ineffective of a leader that an outsider can easily come to such firm conclusions, assumptions really-)

"Do you enjoy humiliation, Dorm Head Rosehearts?"

"What ?" The word comes harsher than he intends.

"I'm not speaking of the public apologies and discipline," they say. "I believe there is ettiquette and tradition to an event such as an Unbirthday Party?"

Riddle minds his tone, his tense posture. "There is."

Yuu tips their head in an act perhaps humble. "I am too ignorant of the customs I should follow, if I join. I would only make a fool of myself if I attend, perhaps even of you, for inviting me."

"Is that your only other concern?" Riddle asks. "You're to be a guest. A perfect display of Heartslabyul's traditions is not expected of you."

"I do think that would make me a loathsome thing to other Heartslabyuls, being given such leniency in addition to a public apology when the other party's already suffered-"

Riddle scoffs. "Why, do you plan to go about making a mess as you flagrantly break the rules?"

"I would be, by my mere decision to attend when I know nothing of your laws. Ignorance excuses no one- isn't that so?"

". . .and what if I excuse you now?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"What if I," Riddle continues carefully, "were to excuse you in advance for whatever mistakes you make tomorrow, assuming the wrongful acts truly are mistakes made without malice? You won't have to beg for a pardon of any sort then."

This isn't leniency to breaking rules. It's simply being courteous, simply an extension of the hospitality a righteous ruler should show. There are other ways, certainly, to leave a better impression of the dorm, but there are many things to be done beyond the immediate Unbirthday Party. Study plans and mock exams to prepare. Hunting for extracurriculars and practicing for the upcoming Spelldrive tournament. The dorm will be unable to gather for another event like this, for some time. He is simply being considerate of everyone's time.

". . .I think other Heartslabyuls may truly hate me if you do."

"Leave the sentiments of my dorm members to me. You only need to come and enjoy yourself at the Unbirthday Party. Your familiar wishes to, doesn't he?"

"Would you pardon Grim for any transgressions as well?"

No, is his immediate thought. Don't be greedy, is the next. But they are one student, he reminds himself, and as ridiculous as that sounds, there is precedent for such a thing with the Shrouds. And for all his doubts about the competence of the Heartslabyul watching them, he can't deny that Yuu, as a sort of minder themself, has done remarkably well to tame the creature who had so wildly caused a ruckus mere nights ago. (The rowdy students they retaliated against have been behaving themselves too, though the fact that they are still wearing collars may be playing a part in that.)

"Within reason," Riddle replies after a long moment.

There's a strange look in their eyes as they, head still bowed, peer at him through their hair. "Are you certain you will not hold any mistakes I or Grim make against us?"

"If the mistake is fairly harmless in intent and effect, I will not."

"And there will be no magic being performed at this Unbirthday Party?"

"None of the sort that should harm you- some charmed enamelware may be in use, but we'll provide you with a proper unenchanted teaset if you're so concerned."

"May I ask why you're willing to go such lengths just to have us attend?"

"It's a matter of discipline for Heartslabyul. It would also be a convenient time to disseminate the information about your condition. Considering who your guides are, other Heartslabyul are bound to see you around the dormitory sooner or later."

"I suppose that is true," they say.

"Did you expect a different answer?"

"I expected it to be a matter of your pride and repute."

"There can be many reasons for a tea party," Riddle says primly. "Will you attend, now?"

They are quiet, and their hesitation after all that is irksome-

"Truth be told, I have not been invited to any such gathering before. I may act strangely, even without Heartslabyul's traditions to account for."

"Just sit with us and eat. I assure you the pastries alone are worth looking forward to."

"Even so-"

"I doubt you're as bad as you think yourself to be."

". . .I have been informed that I make a poor dining companion."

"You seem like perfectly decent company to me." And that is true. Yuu is terribly stubborn, but they're polite. They're cautious but reasonable, capable of harm but not the sort to harrass for the fun of it. They're thinking ahead, they're trying to not be a bother or make a mess, to follow rules even if they aren't a Heartslabyul.

They're rather vulnerable too, ill as they are with their odd condition. Individuals like them are the reason why discipline and order is needed, the kind of person rules are made to protect.

"May I ask for a favor, Dorm Head Rosehearts?"

"Is it to replace the invitation?" he asks, holding a back an exasperated sigh.

"Something else, actually. May I know where to find the rules of Heartslabyul?"

Riddle blinks. "You. . .wish to know the Rules of the Queen of Hearts?"

"Yes, if such information can be shared. It would put me at ease if I have at least a cursory understanding of them- but I do not wish to take up too much of your time. If the knowledge is publicly available, may I know where to find the Rules? Can a copy be found on the campus library or is it the sort of information that can only be shared by word of mouth? Would my minders know it as freshmen?"

Riddles stares. They sound as earnest as they were earlier, as they have been the whole time.

"It's not a secret." The brightness of his own voice surprises him. "We give a copy of it to every dorm member. There should be a few in the Night Raven library as well. The rules are also available online, though I must say that medium may be more straining on the eyes, considering the length of the list. There are 810 Rules, you see."

Yuu doesn't exclaim at the number many others have found outrageous. They don't visibly gasp or protest the way some unaware, uninformed Heartslabyul freshmen have.

"I see," they say simply. "Seeing as the matters of my condition and the invitation have been settled, may I be excused and return to Ramshackle? It seems I have much to read."

~ ~ ~

Ace wonders if he did perhaps end up transported to another spot of Heartslabyul, maybe even another world, because when Riddle rounds the corner, an uncollared Yuu behind him, the little brat is smiling. Not in a smug, self-righteous way either. It makes him look more like a prince in a kid's storybook instead of the hair-trigger-tempered, trigger-happy tyrant Ace has come to expect.

Grim bounds up to Yuu immediately and they promptly kneel. "Hello, Great Grim. As you can see, I am no redder nor inkier."

"You expect me to praise ya for the bare minimum?"

Their expression falls in a way Ace didn't know it could. Their weird eyes somehow don't detract from their sudden dejected look. It makes even Grim wilt.

"I did not mean to upset you so," they say softly. "I would not have left you if privacy were not asked for."

"H-hey, it's not like I'm mad-"

"Truly? What wonderful news."

Yuu promptly stand up, Grim scooped up their arms. Now they're beaming in a way Ace hasn't seen before.

Did his brother ever say anything about Heartslabyul making people go crazy?

Grim looks quite alarmed to be in the air (and maybe at Yuu's sudden un-creepy toothed smile because since when could they do that-), but they keep their grin.

"It would be quite saddening if you were upset with me. We are one student, after all, and we'll have to stay together at the Unbirthday Party tomorrow."

Fear shifts to surprise in his big blue eyes. "We're goin?"

"We are attending," Yuu confirms. They gently set Grim back upon the grass. "But you must behave.We must behave. Do you understand?"

Grim tosses his head. "Whatcha take me for, some hooligan?"

Yuu simply smiles- then quickly covers their mouth. Which is less than hygenic in Ace's humble opinion, considering they just touched an animal on the dirt, even if it's just the back of their hand they're using. They keep it there for a second, before tearing their hand away and leaving their usual neutrality in its place. As though they'd never showed a thing to begin with.

Ace glances at Deuce, but the guy doesn't seem to have noticed that specifically, too busy staring at the scene as a whole. Or just. . .into air. Ugh.

"Thank you once again for your consideration, Dorm Head Rosehearts. You have our gratitude." Yuu's facing the tyrant with a slight bow. No wonder the brat likes them.

A look they send Grim's way makes the cat grumble a "Yeah, thanks."

"Do you need a suit?" Deuce asks up. He turns to Riddle. "Does Yuu- do we need to wear something specifically for an Unbirthday Party, Dorm Head Rosehearts?"

Grey eyes turn severe. "You should know that the Laws of the Queen of Hearts dictates formal attire for all celebrations, except-"

"A-ah, right-"

"I apologize," Yuu says quickly. "Sirs Spade and Trappola have not had much time to review laws or lessons due to their duties as my guides. I will try to impose less upon them in the future."

Riddle clicks his tongue. "They should be able to balance their responsibilities as students and guides if they accepted the role. That said, as I've informed Yuu, you only need to bring yourselves as you are tomorrow. Appropriate attire will be provided for all of you then. Ace Trappola?"

The collar almost seems lighter as he straightens up. "Yes, Dorm Head?"

"You will be allowed into Heartslabyul as Yuu's guide for the duration of the Unbirthday Party. However, until you've properly atoned, you are not permitted to reside on the property."

. . .Riddle says nothing more. Ace's shoulders slump and the cold of the collar bites into the back of his neck. Figures.

His discomfort draws a huff from the housewarden. "Breaking rules has consequences. I hope now, you're aware of that."

"I am," Ace says, and he tries very hard to look it. "I sincerely apologize for stealing the tart, so Dorm Head, could you please-"

"I intended to remove your collar today, only it has recently come to my attention that you threatened a staff member and goaded a student into attacking."

Ace grits his teeth. "When did I-"

"Prior to this morning, Yuu was considered a handyman of Night Raven College. Which means your threat yesterday was not on a student like I initially assumed, but on a staff member."

He thinks of Trey and Cater. Fucking snitches.

"And at lunch," drones the dorm head, "Videos have shown that you prompted Yuu to escalate the situation-"

"He did not command me to attack."

Riddle pauses. He frowns at Yuu, whatever charm they had on him fading. Yuu looks the tyrant in the eye, gold against steel.

"He encouraged me as the Headmaster did  to not simply take their insulting treatment. What ensued was a result of my actions alone. He was not the one who assaulted your dorm members."

"I wouldn't call it an assault. The only thing you wounded was their pride and their pockets."

Yuu doesn't flinch. Unblinking, unwavering-

"One pulled my hair. I brought both to the floor. Trappola gave threats and warnings, I gave a spectacle. If I were under your house, you'd have long beheaded me for my transgressions."

"If despite your lack of magic, you were a Heartslabyul, I'd have taken the necessary measures to ensure that your dormmates behaved themselves to begin with. As things stand now, however, I can only do so belatedly."

The boy smiles sharply. "I do hope you'll come tomorrow, so I can make amends."

". . .I'll try to," Yuu replies, and Riddle's eyes drift back to him and Deuce.

"Are you certain you want to continue on with these two as your guides?"

"Thank you for the offer, but I am accustomed to Sir Spade and Sir Trappola."

Riddle's gaze stays fixed on Yuu for a while longer. He taps his foot like an impatient rabbit-

The dorm head sighs as he turns back to Ace. "I will remove your collar tomorrow. I suggest you and Spade both study defensive spells to avoid more instances like what occurred today. Do take your responsibilities as a guide and as a member of Heartslabyul seriously from now on."

Ace smiles through his boiling blood, irritation seeping through as a grimace-

"I will ! " Deuce says abruptly, the dolt looking like he'd salute if it weren't for the bags he was carrying.

"Yes, Dorm Head," Ace says, while Riddle's eyes are occupied by the sight of the idiot. He turns away from the brat to help Deuce with the bags before he can get in trouble for throttling a tyrant.

By the time he untangles the bags with his stuff from Deuce's, the tyrant's out of sight and Yuu offers to carry his things. He declines, because those are his things and like hell he'll make Yuu look like pack mule when the judgemental brat could still be looking.

~ ~ ~

It's easy to forget that Yuu can't see them.

Part of it's the sheer rarity of their spirit-blindness, oddity that it is (even the horses at the equestrian club can get spooked by specters)- but it's their courtesy too. They give a nice greeting whenever they come and go, always using manners, always asking first if they can do this or that and waiting for the board to move before they do anything drastic. They try to look at who they're talking to, and they're getting better at telling where the ghosts are floating just from the way their cat looks around.

Sure it's only been a day or two, but it's hard not to be charmed when Yuu seems to see the ghosts better than the students who actually can. It's hard not to like the earnest, hard-working fellow who loves their cat and cleanness and courtesy. And it's especially hard to sit back and relax when Yuu's putting their all into the monumentous task of tidying up the place.

The spooks and scares were fun. No self-respecting spectre can deny the thrill of a good scream, especially from brats who want to be trespassers and vandals, and letting your property take a bit of dust and cobweb just helps set the scene for such frights! But that's haunted house dressing, and with a probably-mostly-living being and their definitely-living familiar joining them in Ramshackle, it was time to turn the haunted house into a haunted home.

There's an excited buzz when Beau says he sees shadows coming over the dusky horizon. Curtains clean and freshly pressed quickly cover the polished windows. Polished lights are dimmed, supplies are stowed, and a banner is lifted and unrolled with great care by phantom hands. Finally, Aaron dashes in from the dining room, his skeletal smile telling them it's all set. Caesar smiles at the spirits at his side, and when the door creaks open-

"WELCOME BACK! " the ghosts holler, beaming bright as the electric lights that illuminate the entrance interior in all its newly-cleaned glory.

Eyes of a dimmed gold framed by dark locks with a green sheen blink.

Headmaster Dire Crowley stares at the ghosts.

The ghosts stare back.

"Well," the man says, with an awkward smile at their display, which does little to soothe the spirits or their pride. "This is. . .a surprise-"

"It's for Yuu! " Caesar snips.

"And I am certainly. . .grateful, for the warm-"

"For the kid Yuu!"  Aaron says with agitation.

"Oh." The Headmaster frowns, unashamed by his assumptions as he continues to stand on the porch. "Hmm, we really must find another way to address them-"

Beau blusters. "The kid! "

"Yes yes, I see it's for Yuu-"

"No, they're coming!"

The man is pulled inside with little fanfare or care for how he's rudely shoved behind the ghosts, hair thoroughly tousled and hat flying off. The door's slammed shut as the ghosts ready themselves once again, lights shutting as they raise the banner.

"You sure -?"

"I'm sure this time, C, Grim's fire's was lighting them up blue-"

"Could've made sure the first time-"

"Don't bicker now, boys! Look alive! "

The door opens-

"WELCOME BACK! " the ghosts holler (again), with grins as radiant as the electric light-

For all the three seconds it lasts before the relatively-rapid recent-switching and less-recent degradation on the wiring over the years takes it toll by taking Ramshackle's light out with buzz-POP that has everyone but Yuu wincing at the dying sparks in the dark.

Three specters (and a Crowley) stared at three students (well, two students and and two half-students) across the threshold. A ghost throws down his hold on the banner to shake a fist at the sky.

"SONNOVA-!"

Spectral hands from either side slap over a ghostly mouth as spirits look at the students once more.

Yuu breaks the second staring contest of the night. "Good evening, Headmaster Crowley. It seems the electricity is having an issue."

It is then that the ghosts remember that Yuu, bless their sweet, spirit-blind soul, can't see them, and likely saw nothing but the door open with the crowy crone behind it before the lights suddenly died. And so the trio decides, then and there, to swear the still-stunned two-and-a-half not spirit-blind students and headmaster to secrecy while Yuu looks on with mild confusion at the reactions of the fellows around them.

Next time, they are going to do this right.

~ ~ ~

You're beginning to wonder if this might be a sort of dream. If you ignore the fact that you haven't dreamt in a very long time (and haven't slept either, since forcibly being made unconscious to be kidnapped shouldn't count), you think this might be a sort of dream.

A world where magicians need not sacrifice those with magic, where some are invested for your well-being something perhaps more than an asset, where even the advanced among them take accountability for actions- none of it's very sensible. But they do have their own sense, in their own place. You think one doesn't tend to question to logic of dreams, beyond a vague knowledge of something contrary. You're beginning to stop questioning the logic of this one, when you know you should not.

Being wary is what keeps her alive. You wouldn't trust a layman in Tellusaire without a debt, and you wouldn't trust a magician without a life-oath or something to sway them. If she were here, you would have escaped the academy already. If any tried to stop you, there would be red upon its grounds.

But she is not here. You do not know where she is. You know deceit enough to tell lies, but there seems to be no farce here.

You alone escaped Tellusaire, and you have a talking cat and two novice magicians for companions. You've been given shelter and gifts by strangers. You are a student among a student body human and non-human. You've seen no blood spilled within the institution but your own.

One of the higher mages in this place even apologized to you.

You wonder idly, if it may all be a trick. If in a moment, you'll open your eyes and find that you've failed already. Perhaps this is some grandiose illusion to keep you placated and calm as you are torn apart in a way that you can't return from or to put you back together into something useful. Even without her here, even with all that's happened and you've seen and endured, your dreams were never so kind. 

She is not here though. Perhaps that small cruelty is a good thing, because a perfect trance would have surely kept you two together for you to do your duty without question. So perhaps it is not an illusion-

"Oi, Henchman! What's with you?"

Blue eyes look up at you. A warm, soft body is held in your arms. You'd like it if Grim were real.

"Thinking."

"About the party?" Spade asks.

"I suppose," you say. That too is a strangely-pleasant thought. Perhaps because the last time you had any sort of tea party, it was-

"Think later," Trappola snaps. "If you trip, I'm not helping you up."

"Noted, Sir Trappola."

You climb the steps to Ramshackle, the grass rising woven through the stones crunching beneath your feet, the air cool against your skin. Trappola mutters. Spade chides. Grim's warm in your arms, a purrlike rumble when he speaks.

As you see the Headmaster through the doorway, you hope you might dream of this place when you leave.

Chapter Text

He supposes there is a certain charm to talking in a dark foyer lit only by candlelight.  

The blemishes of Ramshackle are harder to see in the flickering flame, and so is his own mildly-unkempt appearance from the ghosts' rude dishevelling. It would, of course, be more charming and less ominous if the individual across from him didn't look like a malicious spirit, if their intense gaze and the shadows on their still face didn't make them seem more corpselike, a sort of vengeful wraith summoned by a dark, candlelit ritual-

Dire Crowley has plenty of unpleasant thoughts without that haunting imagery upon Yuu's already-ghostly figure, thank you very much. So, he instead turns his attention to the somewhat-less-ominous-but-no-less-anxiety-inducing matter of the image they've made for themselves.

"You've been busy," Crowley says. With what, he doesn't say.

With cleaning Ramshackle, as the ghosts seem so proud of. With causing trouble as the videos circulating showed. With drawing the attention of a housewarden, and the affection of ghosts, and reaching some kind of agreement with their babysitters guides that renders that arrangement more ineffectual than he hoped-

"I suppose," is their only reply, the offer to elaborate of their will falling as useless as Crowley's sigh. 

He is alone with them in the living room, the others busy with the ghosts' welcome-feast-turned-large-uncelebratory-"DON'T YOU DARE TELL YUU ABOUT THE WELCOME BANNER " -dinner. 

"Do you understand the trouble you caused?"

"Not entirely," they answer, and from any other student, he might find such a response sarcastic. He might prefer such a retort, actually, to the aberrant calm for the situation that they show at the news of their behavior.

"News spreads very quickly, nowadays." They do not know of electricity. The meaning of internet and cellular devices are likely lost on them too. "It can be shared faster than the worst plagues, and countering it is very difficult. "

He had to get the help of the Shroud boy. It is fortunate that there is such an individual is on campus, and that said individual can be swayed by something as simple as increasing the lower limit of physical attendance. Crowley dreads to think of how he'll handle such a thing in the future when the Ignihyde prefect graduates, should the problem sitting before him still be unresolved.

"I see," Yuu says. "I will be more careful in the future."

"Not merely trying, this time?"

They say nothing for a moment. The moment stretches, and stretches-

"Tomorrow," they say quietly, a confession, "There is to be a gathering at Heartslabyul. An. . .Unbirthday Party, I believe? I received an invitation. I accepted."

. . .the syllable that leaves his mouth, he does not know if it's their name or a exclamation or a warning or all of it-

"I apologize-" they say before he can utter another word- "I did not think to ask for your permission. I see now that I should have. . . I should have known that I should have."

. . .he was going to scold them. He is rather certain he came here to scold them, and that there were chidings at the tip of his tongue, something sharp to cut down the problem plaguing him before it could worsen.

But the words linger unsaid as he looks at their form. Were they always so small? Drawn into themself, despite their good posture. Hands folded on their lap as if in prayer as their head hangs. They have to tilt their head up to look at him.

"May I attend, Sir?"

They ask it so softly. Their gaze glimmers like candleflame, flickering and uncertain. They look like their eyes wouldn't be meeting his at all, if they could avoid it, if he didn't ask them to. Why did he-

Because they were apologizing. Because they held him by throat, and threw him like he was nothing.

Crowley's claws prick his wrist as he closes his hand. He remembers how he choked. He thinks of when he met them. A student out of place. Something small, something scared. A straggler, separated somehow, from the others-

Then they ran into the fire. Then they stopped a monster. Then they threatened him. Then they stopped. Then they listened. Then they didn't. Then they obeyed and disobeyed and harmed and were harmed and they-

They are a volatile thing, one barely constrained by his commands, and even then, almost uselessly so. One he would like to seal up and box away, out of sight and mind and trouble. He considered doing so earlier when he heard what had happened at noon today. Beneath their folded hands they have knives. Beneath that pale skin runs dark, blotted blood. Beneath that quiet gaze is-

Is something dangerous. Something used to danger too, from how easily they run to it. No regard for the safety for anyone, not even themself-

"Headmaster. . .?"

They don the mask they wore when he first met them, when he thought them a mere lost student.

Dire Crowley looks at something he reminds himself is good at pretending. "Yes? "

"If I may not, may I ask a favor of you?"

Ah, there it is. Feathers settle down with his shoulders as he leans back. The thing called Yuu has a blank gaze- whatever expression they have now, they are merely wearing. 

"I think I've granted you plenty, but what is it?"

"To accompany me to Heartslabyul." Their pose is demure, their voice plaintive. They are very, very good at pretending.

"To an event you should not be attending? Whatever for?"

"Dorm Head Rosehearts invited me personally, and I accepted face to face. It seems impolite to not personally inform him of my inability to attend. He may be upset if I decline, and his magic is-"

"Uncomfortable, yes. You should have considered that before you accepted."

". . .I did."

"Then you should be fully capable of declining the invitation by yourself." 

"Headmaster," they say, and they are talented at sounding weak, at sounding like the scared student he first thought them to be, "Rosehearts' magic halts another's, yes?"

"Yes. Off With Your Head does-"

He stops. 

The magician looks at them. At the dangerous thing that has blotted blood, blot from all the curses likely, curses that-

They are enchantments to keep me functioning- the first thing they said about it.

The heat in his head recedes, leaving a terrible chill that creeps down his neck and into his chest. 

The flesh golem before him is a volatile thing. They do not seem to plead anymore. They sit stiff and proper, perfectly still, a true corpse. 

There is nothing at all behind their eyes. 

"What would happen," he asks slowly, "if your curses were to cease?"

Whatever isn't illuminated of them is swallowed by the dark. The flickering shadows seem to claw at their form, as if to pull them in-

"I do not know," they say quietly. "Perhaps I would rot."

The words come light despite their weight. Too light, too nonchalant-

"Perhaps? You clearly know there's danger, and you accepted the invitation regardless! What did I say about such situations?"

"I did decline. I did so repeatedly. The housewarden was insistent. Would there not have been danger if I refused more adamantly?"

"What sort of-"  

Off With Your Head is clearly some kind of threat to them. Rosehearts' liberal use of his unique magic may be largely limited to those in Heartslabyul, but they may not know that. He doubts even the dead want to rot. 

Crowley curls his hand tighter and watches his tone. "Riddle Rosehearts is strict, but I doubt he'd collar you simply for declining an invitation."

". . .I was not only swayed by the threat of his magic."

"How were you convinced then?"

"He wished to publicly apologize for the behavior of his dorm members. He said he would tell all invited of my condition, so they might avoid aggravating it. He will allow Grim to attend, and said he would not punish either of us for transgressions or mistakes without malice. The risk seemed tolerable, considering the potential benefit."

In Rosehearts' short reign as dorm head, Crowley can't recall the prefect ever being so lenient about anything. . .that one is a sensible child, there is logic to the prefect's reasoning, just as there is some sense to Yuu's decision. 

"Even so," the magician mutters. "Even so."

He's seen the sort of trouble they can get into, even with people guiding them. They could be at risk of some second death, or something at least as unpleasant, if things go awry. They seem such an intelligent thing sometimes, they should know better they do know better-

. . .do they know better? Something like them, ignorant of everyday conveniences. What he's sure they know- how to dissect and be dissected. How to be cut apart, how to accept blame and be of use. They know of Overblot, what with their strange curseborn strain of it. In their world apart from Twisted Wonderland, some place where they must cut beasts apart to harvest their magic, perhaps their degree of caution might be sufficient. Perhaps the relative saturation of this realm's magic and all its consequences has yet to sink in for them. Perhaps they are ignorant, but-

"Your guides- had they anything to say about all this?"

"They did not urge me to accept the invitation."

"Did they try to dissuade you?"

"They questioned my decision and condition, but none opposed it outright."

"And why is that?"

"Sir?"

"I'd hope they'd know the gravity of the matter after seeing your condition firsthand. They've more experience with you than I do now, after the mines and your intimidation of their dorm members- yet they didn't stop you?"

"They would benefit from the decreased chance of harrassment from fellow Heartslabyul should Dorm Head Rosehearts succeed."

"Is that all they have to gain?"

"I think it natural for Sirs Spade and Trappola to look forward to one of their house's celebrations.They might have been able to take part in it without a second thought if I were not involved with them."

"They took on the task of being your guides. They should be prepared for such sacrifices. Is there anything else that could sway them?"

". . .Sir Trappola's collar is to be removed tomorrow if his dorm head is to be believed. Sir Spade has been more expressive about his interest, though I am unsure if it's for the event itself or what may be gained from it. They all seems fond of Heartslabyul's baked goods, Grim especially so."

Their gaze drifted to the hall when they spoke. For a moment, there was something almost pleasant about their expression as they look towards the rest of their little group, even with walls between. The sound of clicking silverware and ceramic floats down. They had urged their companions to eat ahead when Crowley asked to speak to them alone. 

They look at him now, nothing betraying their intent. "May my guides be allowed to attend the Unbirthday Party without me, Sir?"

Crowley frowns. Peer pressure. . .perhaps it is hypocritical of him to be so disapproving when he used a similar tactic to get them to consent to being saddled with chapherones, but he did so as a matter of campus safety. There are other ways to alert the student body of a threat, assuming any remain ignorant of it after their stunt.

"You want to be rid of your minders so soon?

"No, Headmaster. I only-"

"Do not push the limits of my grace or patience, Yuu."

They fall silent. Their mouth opens, and closes, or perhaps that too is only a trick of the light. The magician relaxes his hold and his gaze. 

"Nevermind the discourtesy- stay away from Heartslabyul. I'll handle informing Rosehearts. I'll inform the rest of the student body in time as well. It's part of why I came tonight, after all."

With that, he produces the other reason for this visit. Gold eyes study the device in his claws, and the contraption's own gold and glass gleams faintly in the light

"This is a Ghost Camera," Crowley says, and after a second of uttering that name, quickly adds, "It is not made out of ghosts."

"I see," Yuu says, and they sound remarkably relieved.

"It is a device made to replicate the image of both a subject's physical form and their soul. In your case. . .it should be sufficient to at least capture the former." Hopefully. 

Their eyes are trained upon it.

"Would you like to have a look?"

They don't seem apprehensive in the slightest as he deposits the device into their hands. They examine the camera with fascination. They looked at Grim like that. At the electric lights too. 

They turn the camera around in pale, dark-veined hands, and not a single blade appears. They seem taken with it, the simple device. They don't know of it anymore than they know of electricity. They likely know more of any organism's general anatomy than the photographic apparatus.

 Have they ever known anything but to be cut up? Have they ever been to a tea party, or anything kind-?

"It's quite simple to operate," Crowley says gently, lest they be frightened by it later the way they were with the lights. "I will look through that lens there and push that button. It will make a sound, there will be a flash of light. Then, a rectangle of film and paper will exit from that slot! We call such a thing a photograph- it is a painting of sorts depicting the image spied through the lens at the moment of capture."

"Is it an expensive device?"

"Hmm?"

"I didn't know sugar was common here," Yuu continues. "I think my knowledge of prices and the economy is rather lacking. Is a device like this a luxury?"

What little needs they have are met and they don't require an allowance beyond feeding Grim. That said, it won't do if they do get tricked easily- 

"It is an antique. Certainly worth more than sugar, a great deal more- and it must be handled carefully. The individual sheets of blank film within is much cheaper than the device itself, though that's so you spend more on packs of those overall." Crowley rises before he can go on about razor and blade models and more complex capitalistic concepts that can surely be left to their minders to educate them on. 

"Come along now. There's better light outside." Or casting light should be easier outside, at least, with more distance. . .or would even that result in them glowing like some luminous mushroom? Well, the moonlight on its own seems strong enough. . .

As he ponders that, they snuff the candles. Crowley enters the hall-

And comes face to face with a ghost. 

Below that face is another ghost. 

Below that face is a student. 

And another student. 

And the cat. 

Crowley looks down at the pillar of heads.

The tower of eavesdroppers stare back. Someone shifts, the structure sways-

"Steady now, Grimsy!"
"Ack!"
"H-hey-!"
"Stop moving, minion!"
"Hoo boy."

-and collapses. 

Yuu hurries into the hall at the commotion, golden eyes bright in the lightless building. Their gaze settles upon the mess of their companions on the floor. They stare, then raise their hands, camera still in their hold-

Click.

The Headmaster blinks. 

"Yuu! " exclaims the blue one in protest, before Crowley can.

The red one hisses something that sounds suspiciously like jackass and the cat makes a sound of indignation. (Wait, did the monster know what a camera was?) The ghosts chuckle and float over.

"Did you get a good shot, Goldy? " laughs the leader.

The other grins. "If I'd known you were snapping something I'd have shown my good side! "

Yuu simply watches the camera dispense its picture, transfixed. Crowley frowns, his own eyes set on the troublesome golem.

"Yuu, that is not a toy. Film may be cheaper than the camera but-"

"Is this them? Are these the ghosts?"

Their voice is the liveliest he's ever heard from them.

In Yuu's hand is the photograph, already developed. The image within cycles every few seconds, catching the widening eyes of students and ghosts alike as they turn to the viewer in the vivid scene of a ghost camera photograph. Yuu looks at the picture even as they hold its colored side towards him.

"Is this what they look like- Sirs Ka-ehsar and Beau? Is Sir Aaron absent?"

The last name summons a gust of wind as the leanest ghost swoops into the hall.

"Did they call? " he asks, still holding silverware. " . . .why're you two weepy?"

"They wanted to see us! " Beauregarde wails.

Ceasar sniffs. "Aww Goldy, if you wanted to see us so bad, you coulda asked! We got some year-books and photos lying around somewhere, I'm sure."

"Did you all finish eating already?" Yuu asks, head tilted at their fellow students on the floor, oblivious to the three ghosts now embracing them, and as if on cue, Grim's stomach growls.

Chapter Text

This is your fault.

You're sure it is, because you seem to be at the root of so many troubles here. An action, an inaction, a misstep, a misspoken line-

Somewhere, certainly, you are to blame.

Despite the disappointment from being forbidden from the party, supper had been pleasant. It was a more lavish fare than anticipated, but seeing as the Headmaster was dining with you all, and that there were more than you and Grim tonight, perhaps it was a natural thing to serve such a spread of dishes. Certainly, the ghosts have been nothing but good hosts. Neither Trappola nor Spade seemed all that bitter about missing the party. Grim was more disappointed, but even so, he wouldn't have any of your apologies. Instead, he simply demanded more sweets in the future to make for the ones he had to forego for your sake. You replied that you would be glad to try.

It is with such patience and the strange, contract-wrought camraderie you were becoming far too familiar with that the ghosts ushered you all to the dining room. The food had cooled during your conversation with the Headmaster, your companions having decided to leave only Sir Aaron at the table to leave the impression of a dinner underway through a spirited fiddling of silverware as the rest eavesdropped.

Grim's temperament, though still more unaffected than anticipated after the Headmaster's intervention, lifted at the sight of the food. You praised him greatly when he helped you and the ghosts warm what dishes would benefit from quick heating. (Your human minders were less than enthused about the roast being burnt black, but you were content to take all the charred bits for yourself. It couldn't poison you, and the bitter taste and tough exterior brought to mind flickers of former meals just as burnt and made with just as much earnesty.)

And so dinner proceeded with little fanfare. It was silent, but a comfortable sort of silence. Your minders and Grim were eating a meal well-deserved after they had missed their lunch for your sake. The ghosts insisted you eat rather than serve, so you ate as well, and all seemed content in the quiet.

Then Trappola teased Grim, and you spoke and spoke and spoke too much, then that pleasant quiet dissipated.

That warmth too seems so absent here, as you stare at the sky and its strange stars. Perhaps if you curry enough favor with the Headmaster, you can use the camera to take a picture of this aberrant celestial sphere. Perhaps you might try your hand at mappping it sometime. You can tell her how different it is then, give her a story and a hope of a gentler place through proof of this land's existence, if it truly isn't a dream . . .

You breathe, and it chills you.

The wind is cold where you stand on Ramshackle's doorstep, so cold that perhaps of your body didn't run cool, you might have seen your breath misting in the dark. Such a thing doesn't matter. You haven't warmed your own bones in ages, and so you are accustomed to coldness. Even if the world is different, the chill that settles into your tainted marrow is a sensation perfectly familiar to you. At the very least, it is more familiar than the building behind you and the students and spirits within it.

There are things to do. You should help clear the table. The ghosts may have been busy, but they could not have completed repairs already. You can go see what else of Ramshackle could use a more corporeal hand. Grim may be upset, but he might still be swayed to relay their words. You will return inside, and continue what matters are immediate and achievable.

You just

You will settle yourself first.

Their gazes after your words were unpleasant, but it is better like this. You will certainly leave Twisted Wonderland one day. You must. It is good that you spoke, that all is laid bare, even if it upset your minders. If you had explained sooner, this wouldn't be an issue to begin with. You misspoke, or assumed, or did some other manner of action too wrong for this place, because you do not belong here, and it led to misunderstanding. That is why you stand alone. That is why everyone is upset with you.

. . .ultimately, it does not matter if they are. 

If they do their duties and you do yours, all will be fine. Your time here is fleeting. They would do well to remember it, and you would benefit from keeping it in mind as well. You should not have assumed understanding to begin with. You should not assume they can understand. They do not know of Tellusaire.  They do not know of

. . .you do not understand why you thought otherwise to begin with. You should not have. You will not, in the future. You-

Hear footsteps in the hall, and turn your head as the door opens, and-

"Yuu?"

--smother the ember of something too warm and soft that sparks at the soft call of your name.

~ ~ ~

He's really not cut out for this, is he?

He doesn't ask the right questions, he doesn't think, he just- all he does is focus on what's right in front of him, and clumsily try to clean up the mess after.

It took more effort than it looked- eating properly. With the Headmaster joining them for dinner to explain away the small feast the ghosts were cooking, it was hard not to be hyper-aware of every little mistake he could have been making. So Deuce sat up straight and ate slowly and carefully sliced the meat off a rib instead of lifting the whole thing in his hand and tearing the meat off the bone.

The ghosts weren't trying that hard, but they weren't students. Grim didn't try care, but he's an animal. Ace didn't care, but Ace doesn't really care about much of anything.

The Headmaster ate politely, and so did Yuu, and so he had to keep half his head on keeping his elbows off the table and posture straight and manners proper. You know, to look like a gentleman, an honor student, someone who cares about his job and who wouldn't let someone he's supposed to look after get into a dangerous situation. (Of course they'd be afraid of Riddle. Normal students are scared of the guy. They said their curses are fixing them up, and curses are magic and they said they run on blot and blot is like magic too and Riddle's UM-)

Deuce didn't have a collar, but it was hard to swallow anyway.

"You were planning on attending a tea party like that?"

It's Ace's fault, in a way. Because he just had to be a jerk and be rude. If he didn't ask that, maybe Grim wouldn't have gotten annoyed, and Yuu wouldn't have been soYuu, and he wouldn't have to think about this now.

But Ace had to comment.

And so Grim glared at Ace, a whole chicken leg sticking lollipop-like out of his little cat mouth. He yanked the thing out, the meat shredded to ribbons, and huffed a bit of flame that toasted it further.

"This is just dinner! I know how to act fancy-schmancy for a fancy-schmancy tea party!"

"Do you?"

Yuu's voice made the monster pause his gnawing and look quite miffed at his henchman's remark.

You calmly sliced away at their meal. "I know even less of a talking beast's expected etiquette than I do of human guests' here. Perhaps we can view the delay as an oppportunity to learn manners?"

"Peh! Why'd we gotta learn anything? We ain't goin' anywhere now!"

"Not now," Yuu said. "But in the future, when I leave, you will be remaining, no? I cannot be an obstacle to your attendance then."

Grim gave Yuu a look. "Hey, we're only a student together, remember! Why're you talking about leaving now? What? Did this guy find a way to send you back already?"

"Send you back?" Ace's uncaring face broke as his silence did, twisting in disbelief, and it's then that Deuce's braincells jostled together to connect only now what took Ace mere seconds to realize-

"You're trying to go back to your hell-world?"

"Tellusaire is not-"

"No. No, you are not defending the place where they gut you for stealing bread and rip your mouth open for teeth or some shit. If you're trying to go back, why are we even bothering to keep you alive here?"

Deuce hadn't known about the bread thing, but Yuu had been weird and reckless even without that not-so-fun-fact. They didn't care much about getting hurt because they were used to it, the way you stop flinching at a punch after seeing enough fists come at your face. They looked fine now because they always looked fine, no matter what happened to them. They could have been cut in half and look fine, but that didn't- just because they could get better didn't mean it was okay because it wasn't and-

And he knew that they weren't supposed to be a student here. They told him they wanted to go back to their world that night he told them to run. (Did they mean it? They couldn't, right? They were only saying that. Someone must have made them say that, because who would want to go to a place like that?)

(But who could make Yuu do something they didn't want to do? )

He doesn't know. No, dumb Deuce doesn't know anything. His head wasn't quick enough to put together the idea of Yuu going back and the place they were going back to being crappy spot to be. He didn't know how to smooth things over either, as Yuu looked back at Ace.

". . .I assumed your collective concern for my well-being was due to the benefits-"

"You a think a bunch of bonus points is worth babysitting you?"

Yuu blinked. "Is it not?"

Ace just stared at them. Then he laughed. "This. This is-"

"You agreed to be my minder," Yuu said, unaffected by the sight. "If the compensation for your time is insufficient, would you like to renegotiate? The Headmaster is present. It would be best to decide how to proceed before-"

Ace grinned like a grimace "You. Are insane. Hey Deuce, you only in this for some dumb conduct grade?"

For all the trouble his rude mouth could get him into, not a word could come out.

"Sir Spade is aware of my plans," Yuu said, and they were right because he knew. He knew, and he didn't do anything when he learned and couldn't do anything but look away when Ace set his red eyes upon him.

". . .you don't say," he said, and Deuce could see the way Ace looked at him, the pointed judgement. "And Grim and our Gracious Headmage know too, huh?"

"I-I mean. . ."  Grim's flames flickered as the Headmaster tipped his head down to glare.

"Now, young man- "

"Yes," Yuu answers plainly.

Yes, they were trying to get back to a hell-world. Yes, Deuce was guarding a dead man, and he knew and should have known but never thought-

"Wow." Ace scoffed. "So I get in trouble for getting you some cuts, but you're heading off to off yourself anyway. We might as well shove you through a shredder then!"

"Ace Trappola-!"

Ace ignored the headmaster, standing as he pushed himself from the table. "Thanks for the dinner! Guess I can add murder by proxy to all the cool stuff I got to do in the prestigious Night Raven College, huh Headmage?"

He left the dining room. The ghosts swarmed after, fretting over Yuu, and Deuce remembered how happy they seemed just an hour or so earlier at how their housemate wanted to see them. Yuu was their friend, they liked Yuu at least, and he was going to watch Yuu until they'd go and get themselves torn apart. Yuu was. . .they were something of a friend, they had to be, by now, and they were his responsibility. And he was going to gladly be their guard and until they'd -

All Deuce could do was weakly excuse himself as the ghosts and the Headmaster talked about things he couldn't quite hear anymore, feeling as sick as he did.

Deuce knew death threats. He knew pain and fistfights and turf wars and all the stupid stuff that kids do when they don't care about their mothers. But this was-

How is he so stupid? How is he this stupid? He's not the best person, he knows he's messed up, but he isn't- he's not the kind to-

He's taken hits and dished them back but he's never seriously anyone. He's pulled some punk from another gang out of the way of a truck even though they were in the middle of a fight! He's doing his best to listen and be a good student now so- so he's not. . .

. . .he's not a guy who'd just let someone get killed like that. . .

. . .right?

Not for some dumb grade. Not just for some dumb grade. But that was enough to make him want to help and he never even asked why.

Is this why the Headmaster wanted him to help? To be some dumb muscle, some spineless yes-man to keep Yuu alive until he could ship them off to be torn apart? Why were they watching Yuu at all? Just to make the school look good? So they don't get into trouble until they're not a problem anymore because then theyd be gone and dead ?

What kind of person does that? Just walking and talking and being friends with someone willingly walking to their end as though they were fine? What kind of shitty honor student, no human being would-

. . .

. . .Ace wasn't. The moment Ace figured it out, he didn't want it. He was upset about it, at least.

But him? Deuce Spade, world's greatest idiot, had known for over a day and done nothing but play along.

It was hard to breathe. Maybe it was because he was a good person, and he hated the thought of the whole scenario they were stuck in. Maybe it was from the dust on the wall he was leaning against, because he was a trash person after all who just wanted what he could get out of babysitting someone basically suicidal.

Deuce glanced back. Down the hall he could hear the ghosts, the Headmaster, even Grim. He couldn't hear Yuu at all. They were probably sitting and being quiet as they usually were, replying to everything with soft resignation. He should return to the dining room, and finish dinner, and look after Yuu. He had a job. He agreed to be a guide and a guard and he was a man of his word.

Still, it seemed wrong and horrible to keep at his useless job like nothing had changed.

. . .like a coward, Deuce ran. He just needed to clear his head. He just needed to think, first, for once in his life-

Coward. Idiot-

He went upstairs where the ghosts had taken his things. Unlike Heartslabyul's dedication to playing-card colors and checkerboard, Ramshackle's weren't themed to anything, unless a clean, rundown room of sturdy old furniture was a theme. But what it lacked in grandeur, it made up for in homeliness, feeling like a place people actually lived in rather than a done-up dollhouse.

Yuu does live here, his brain unhelpfully supplied. This place and the school is their big, fancy cell until they get taken to death row-

Yuu's satchel was on the bed of the room with a door wide open. That one must have been theirs and Grim's. There were two mattresses on the swept ground, each covered in clean bedsheets, each piled high with pillows and blankets. His bags were in the room too.

The ghosts and their happy, parent-pleased smiles popped to mind.You just tell Goldy here to enjoy their school life!

. . .Deuce was a horrible person.

He must have been, to drag his bags out to the room right beside it, then the room beside that one because the first one was locked. At least Ace was shit in that regard too, since Deuce found his own things rifled through with Ace's stuff nowhere to be found.

Deuce locked his room, and realized they were probably neighbors. The room between his new one and Yuu's had some muffled noise in it, and something like pacing Deuce left the door and whatever crisis Ace was in to lie in the room's bed.

He doesn't know when he passed out, or if he even did or just needed to look at nothing for a long while, but he comes to his senses still feeling like shit.

It's cold and he's still in his unform, which means now he has to get up extra early to iron it out since he can't do that spell yet but more importantly because Yuu's here and no magic allowed near the magic-sensitive guy you dumbass-

He remembers the other reasons for which he's a fool only after that, then feels even worse. He should talk to Yuu, he should watch them-

For what, exactly? To get some dumb grade?

. . .because he should. He said he would. If nothing else, then that. It's a good enough reason, isn't it? A reasonable reason.  A selfish one too, to just keep at it just not think about it - 

The moon's still up when he moves to the window, Yuu's standing on the lawn below, his phone says it hasn't been two hours since dinner wait why is Yuu standing on the lawn?

If it's cold in here, it must be freezing out there. Deuce stumbles only a little on still-sleeping legs as he heads down. For a second, he stops just shy of the front door. It's open a crack, and through it, he can see Yuu.

The stand perfectly still, their hair, still short from the mines, the only moving part of them. It seems longer than this morning though. The only growing part of them maybe, I've been told that's the best part of me, you know-

"Yuu?"

They turn. "Sir Spade."

Just yesterday, they'd spoken like that too, their tone stiff and cold and lifeless as the corpse he now knows they are. Yet they were alive just this afternoon. They laughed, didn't they? They smiled, when they saw the pens and stuff he'd bought for them. They seemed glad to tell Grim about the invitation, to have sweets-

"Hey, since we're not going to the Unbirthday Party anymore. . .d'you wanna eat the tart?"

Is it stupid that he'd rather see them alive?

Yuu blinks. "The mont blanc?"

"Yeah, I mean, I don't think me and Ace're allowed to head to Heartslabyul either, so-"

"We ought to ask Sir Trappola first, no? It was intended as his peace offering to your Dorm Head."

"Right, yeah, of course-"

"Ohhhh, a bit too late for that, fellas."

Deuce flinches at the bony face poking through through the ceiling.

"Grimsy got a little, well-"

"Grim ate it?! Did he eat all of it?!"

The spirit chuckles. "Well, things're heading that way for sure!"

That sound again, the one he heard on the way to Sam's Shop, a sigh soft and breathy. "Grim's eaten it, has he?"

You crosses the doorway and glances at the kitchen. "I'm doing a poor job of reigning in my other half. What a poor student we make."

. . .they'd always been soft with the cat.

"The ghost said there could still be some-"

"Oh? Then we should hurry before Grim gorges himself sick."

~ ~ ~

Stupid, stupid minion.

Why would anyone go somewhere they'd get cut up? Wasn't NRC nice? Sure there'd been hiccups, but it had to be better than whatever pit they came from. Wasn't this a decent spot at least? Wasn't he a good boss?

The sweet, chestnutty treat in his paws and stomach does little to quell the angry little fire in his chest.

Stupid henchman. Wanting to go to somewhere so nasty it shouldn't be a home. Wanting to leave him the moment they can. He'd wake up and they'd be gone, just like that. They'd never be even.

He chews on a tart that makes him think of a warm kitchen and something that seemed so nice then but bitter now and a shadow falls over him.

. . .did ghosts have shadows?

He looks up and finds the stupid henchman looking down at him.

"Good evening, Great Grim."

He grumbles and turns away. Stupid henchman.

"I hope you're drinking something. It wouldn't do for such a grand magician to choke-"

He growls. "I'm not gonna ch-aukct-!

There is a teacup of water at his mouth. The only reason he doesn't spit up fire to burn the stuff in his throat is because Yuu's hand is there. Wanting to lean into their hand as they tip the cup for him to drink has nothing to do with it.

".  .Grim, your appetite is seriously impressive."

Great. Juice was here to see that. "W-well! We weren't headin' to the party anymore. And the ghosts were eating theirs and I got hungry so-!"

"You ate so much!"

"Hey, I only got ah, er-"

"Three quinters. Three and a half quinters, perhaps."

Grim squints. "The heck's a quinter?"

Deuce also looks confused.

"A portion of something equally divided." His henchman raises a hand and uncurls fingers as they count. "Halves, thirds, quarters, quinters-"

"We stop at quarters?"

Yuu blinked at Deuce. "Oh. That seems like a waste, when one has five fingers-"

"I did a lot and my henchman did too! It's a fair share!"

"You ateYuu's share-"

"If they're gonna die, just lemme have their slice!"

. . .

. . .he said that louder than he meant to.

Deuce is giving him a look a Yuu probably is too as they stand behind him. He hasn't been a boss for very long, but bosses probably weren't supposed to say stuff like that. It's their fault though, for being like that. For being so dumb-

"Great Grim," says the henchmen who never listens, "I'm not seeking death in Tellusaire."

"Sure you ain't."

"I won't die."

"Sure you won't."

"I can't die, Grim."

"How'd you know that? You got pretty messed up and no one here's even tryna kill you! What're you gonna do when you're somewhere-"

"I have not died yet, and I can't die, Great Grim." Their voice is calm.

He looks at them again, and they have the smallest, ugliest cheer-up smile in the world.

"I can't," Yuu says quietly.

. . .they never lie, do they? So what? He's being dumb for being worried? He shouldn't be upset?

"You're still gonna hurt."

So don't be an idiot. He'll be a good boss so just-

"I know."

. . .and that's all they say.

Stupid henchman and their careful hands. Stupid henchman and their stupid spineless niceness. The fire's gone cold like a hearth-flame drenched by rain. He grumbles and the tart feels like lead in his belly. He glares down instead of looking at 'em because his neck's tired. He's only wiping his face 'cause of the crumbs. His paws are only wet because he washed them before dinner.

"Why. . .why do ya have to go back anyway?"

"I can't say."

"Like you can't, or you can't ?" Maybe it's a good thing Juice is here. The Great Grim's throat gets clogged sometimes, see, and he then can't talk without sounding like he's gonna cry.

"I can't say," they repeat. Broken record. Broken Henchman. They're gonna be broken into bits and they're just gonna let it happen, the idiot. Horrible, nasty henchman. How's he supposed to be a half-a-student? They shouldn't ever have been nice if they were just gonna make him do everything by himself in the end.

Grim's sulking is rudely interrupted by his stupid horrible idiot henchman lifting him into the air.

"Oi! What do ya think you're-!"

"Excuse me, Great Grim."

He's set down on an empty kitchen counter. Yuu grabs the candelabra behind him and he realizes they're waving the wicks near his ear flames to ignite it.

"I-I ain't a matchstick!"  The blue fires kick up in intensity at his indignation, which only helps whatever nonsense Yuu is up to.

They seem satisfied at their new light as they straighten up. "Your fire will be your contribution."

"To what?"

"You ate a tart that was by all means Sir Trappola's property. It is only right to replace it."

"Hold up- you're gonna bake?  Yuu, you're gonna bake now?  It's-" Deuce glances around for a clock, but any that are around are as good as blank in the dark. "It's kinda late, isn't it? And there's no light, won't it be dangerous?"

Yuu carries the candlestick to another set of them on the other side of a room and lights those too. "Yes, I intend to bake. I will do so as soon as I have ascertained what ingredients we have present. The ghosts seem to have stocked the pantry considering the state of the evening meal, and I know the basics of baking without magic. I am accustomed to a lack of electric lights."

When Deuce doesn't speak or leave, Yuu glances back. "You do not have to remain, Sir Spade. I will not leave Ramshackle."

"What? No. No, it took five of us to make the mont blanc earlier. I'll stay and help!"

"You need rest, do you not? It's been a long day."

"I could say the same for you."

"I don't require sleep, Sir Spade."

"Then I don't either!"

They glance at the guy, then turn their attention back to the pantry. "I am using a different recipe for different ingredients. I am not entirely certain if what I make will be adequate, or how long it will take. You are better off enjoying the remainder of the mont blanc if you'd like a bite before sleeping."

"I'm helping because I want to help. What are you looking for? You need help reading labels right? And you didn't know chestnuts so maybe I could help with what some other things are too."

". . .that would be appreciated. Which of these are fruit?"

"Let's see. . .we have some jams and preserves here. That's blueberry, that's peach, and that red one's cherry! See? I can help! I haven't really baked before the mont blanc, but I'm sure we can come up with something edible."

"What does it matter if it ain't good? Ace is getting it anyway."

"Great Grim, I'm making you a tart as well. We are forbidden from joining the Unbirthday party, so I owe you."

He'd demanded sweets at the news. It was a quick, haughty request, it got them to stop apologizing. "Ya don't-"

"I want to. If it fails. We can say both are for Trappola."

Grim stares. There's something like a smile on their mouth, a conspiratorial twinkle in their eye-

"Ha-ha! Seems Goldy's got a mean streak after all! "

Grim shudders and shakes off the traces of that spectral coldness that rushes through him as Aaron does. "Could you quit that?"

Beau drips out from the ceiling. "Even their meanness is awful nice though-"

"Whatcha need, Yuu? We can fetch some stuff from Sam's or the cafeteria, no problem !"

Caesar beams and Yuu turns to the center of the dining room where Grim and Deuce are staring.

Deuce's eyes flicker between the spirits. "H-how long have you guys been hanging around?"

. . .the spirits' smiles turn a tad tight, but it's hard to tell with all their wibbly-wobbly ghostness.

"What are you fellas looking for? " Caesar echoes.

Deuce nudges Yuu. "They uh, ghosts want to know what you need."

"Ain't imposing! " Beau says quickly.

Aaron nods. "We'd be happy to give Yuu a nice night with their pals even if it's been a bit. . . un-ideal."

Yuu looks back from the pantry, frowning. "I wouldn't want to im-"

"Not imposing," Grim grumbles, habit carrying him along before he can remember he's mad. "They wanna help."

His stupid henchman accepts the help then, not for anything that could actually help them but to make a tart for him and to fix his mess. Grim blames the ghosts and their chilly, blobby, sappy selves for why he also feels so wibbly-wobbly and sniffly as he lets out a groan and asks how to lend his own pointless help to his stupid henchman.

~ ~ ~

Yuu likes sweets.

That's the impression Ace gets anyway, from they way they ate the mont blanc after baking, the way they were given some at dinner too, the ghosts having each donated a slice to their housemate the moment they brought it up. He finds his mind wandering to when the last time they had sugar could have been, whether they've ever lost a hand for a sweet bun and it just grew back, and that's where Ace stops his thoughts before he can carry on thinking about Yuu and Hellusare.

Stopping is easier said than done.

It's hard to write off a lost cause when you've been told to stick with it until it's lost. Anyone would feel at least a bit indebted, attached, whatever you want to call it to some guy you pushed out of harm's way only for them to return the favor and get stabbed with a pickaxe for it. It's not like they're friends but he's gotten stuck with them for over a day which is too long to be stuck with anyone, much less someone you have to care about at least a little for the sake of your grade, your future, your conscience-

He doesn't like Yuu, but he wouldn't wish whatever the fuck is wrong with them on his worst enemy. They get on his nerves, but that doesn't mean they deserve to just get tortured for being hungry or wanting sweets or speaking wrong. Yuu must be some kind of masochist. That's only explanation for wanting to go back. They can't die so it's not exactly a death wish, but they can hurt yet they'd choose to be hurt-

"Would you like to come in, Sir Trappola?"

. . . Ace thinks he must also be a masochist, because he does. The kitchen is dark. The only lights here are the candles and Grim.

"It's too late for this," Ace declares. Sure his hungry stomach had damned him to heading downstairs to try sneaking food again, but a quick bite was one thing, willingly taking on the tedium of the afternoon was another. "Even without a party, we've got class tomorrow. Shouldn't you guys sleep?"

"Good evening, Sir Trappola. Grim ate the mont blanc. I am replacing it." Yuu's whisking something. Their yellow eyes seem to glow as they look at an old book on a stand. "Also I do not require sleep."

"Great. Of course. And I'm guessing goody-two-shoes here was just so happy to help?"

"I am," Deuce says. "And the sooner we finish, the sooner we rest."

"You do not have to-"

"I want to," Deuce insists. A click. "Good thing this uses gas. The oven should be heating now! What temp do you need it?"

"Temp?"

"Temperature," Ace sighs. Fuck it. He moves to the stand, squinting. "Should be a number with C or F beside it."

"I believe this says 400 F." Yeah, why wouldn't they have night vision? Might as well-

Deuce shuts the oven door and stands. "You can read numbers?"

"Sir Trappola taught me earlier."

"Oh, so he ain't useless."

Ace raises an eyebrow at Grim. "And what are you doing here, huh?"

"Payin ', " the cat grumbles. Huh. There's a faint sound of scrubbing from the sink where Grim sulks.

"The remainder of the mont blanc was transferred to the icebox, if you are seeking it."

"Why bother making another tart anyway? The mont blanc wasn't really mine."

"It was in your custody. Grim devoured it-"

"I didn't eat all of it-!"

"Devoured much of it. It was yours to give, so it was yours, even if the party is no longer a concern."

"And if I say I don't want a replacement?"

"Then I'd be baking for Grim."

"And if Grim didn't want it?"

The cat glares at him.

"Then it would be practice," Yuu replies calmly. They transfer the content of the bowl to one on the table and began to mix it in.

". . .seems kinda like you just want to bake no matter what."

"I've already started," Yuu says, and that's not exactly a no. "It would be a waste to stop now."

A knocking behind him draws his gaze to the floor where a crate lies. There's a bag of sugar in it, and eggs, and canned fruit and other things alongside bowls and tins and other kitchen implements. There's a note on top, Have fun!  written in round, clear letters.

The ghosts must be watching. Their fault then, if he falls asleep in class tomorrow. He has to watch Yuu. Sleeping while they're working at something could still be slacking on the job. Joining the lunacy of this never-ending day is the ghosts' fault, and Crowley's for the blackmail.

Ace hauls the delivery to the table, saying what each thing is as he drops it off. He opens the cans of cherries while Deuce helps to knead the dough. He even helps stir the filling on the stove after. Grim grumbles all the while in his spot by the sink, silenced only by Yuu having him taste test. The pies (plural, because Yuu has a damn sweet tooth) are prepped and loaded into the oven.

"So we just wait now? That was faster than I thought."

Yuu frowns at the book. "It will be about a ho. . .an hour, or so more, Sir Spade."

Ace takes the timer they were fumbling and twists it to forty-five like the book said before handing it back. The Juice and Yuu Buddy-Buddy Show continues.

"Have you baked before?"

"I have baked prior to this afternoon."

"You baked in Tellusaire?"

"Yes."

"So have you cut off someone's hand before?"

Deuce and Grim seem more offended than Yuu does at the question. They simply start cleaning off the table. "I have."

Of course they have. They seemed ready to kill him yesterday, right?

"Not as retribution for theft of food, though."

Deuce, apparently forgetting how easily they killed the mine monster and manhandled their seniors, stares. ". . .you're serious? Really? That stuff's legal in Tellusaire?"

"Depends on the slighted, Sir Spade."

Grim tilts his head up at his henchman. "What were ya doing back in your world?"

"You'll have to clarify, Great Grim."

"Like, like you've been a waiter right? And you can clean and bake and stuff but you chop things up too-"

They start washing the dishes. "I suppose I'm a hireling, if you're asking for a profession."

Deuce joins them. "So you were a handyman there too?"

"That is what the Headmaster tasked me with being here. I would do odd jobs. Menial labor."

Labor enough to be able to pick up a cauldron and a giant pickaxe. But then, they don't grow, so they can't get stronger, so were they always-? "Yuu, how old are you?"

"I am. . .unsure, Sir Trappola."

"Can you guess?"

They pause for a moment too long, then another, then-

"Eighty seasons, at least?"   

What.

"E-eighty- ?!" He can hear the gears in Deuce's brain grinding, or maybe he's hearing his own.

"Four seasons a year?" Ace presses.

"In southern lands, though I hear even further has five, and that some others have two as well. The north has two to three."

"Holy shit, you are an old man." Ace peers at them in the moonlight of the window above the sink. They don't look like it, being twenty or forty or anything in between, but he guesses that's just what happens when you don't grow.

Grim frowns. "You don't look like a grandpa."

"I have no progeny."

"So you've been surviving on your own pretty fine in Tellusaire before this, huh?"

". . .I suppose, Sir Trappola."

That's. . .is that good? It's not like they can die with their curse right? And they can fight. They have been for decades. They'll be fine when they're booted from the college. Probably.

Ace sighs, muttering. "Can't believe I'm baking at Greats-know-when in the morning with an old geezer. . ."

"I apologize, Sir Trappola" Yuu says. "For allowing Grim to eat your tart. And for keeping you both awake."

". . .if you're so sorry, then do me a favor."

Deuce scowls. "Hey, you're already getting a tart!"

Grim's fires flash in agreement. "And it's your fault for not keepin' an eye on it anyway!"

"Great Grim-"

Ace crosses his arms. "We signed up to guide them around school and keep an eye on them. Not this."

Deuce gets in his face. "They helped you with the mont blanc! And the only reason we had to make the mont blanc was because of you!"

"Because I ate a tart, because I got hungry from not eating, because Yuu and I had to wash a bunch of windows because they attacked me. And I needed a tart to get back into Heartslabyul because Yuu got invited to a party, and we had to come with. And who ate the mont blanc anyhow?"

Grim growls. "You said you didn't want another!"

"Hey Yuu, did I say that?"

They place the bowls upon the drying rack, unbothered by the argument. "No, you did not."

"See?"

Deuce's fist grabs ahold of his shirt. The way he drags makes Ace flinch as the collar digs into his neck, and yeah he's definitely not a masochist cause this thing sucks.

Deuce sure looks pissed.  "Can't you take responsibility for once?"

Ace looks beyond Deuce and Grim's blue glares to meet Yuu's calm, yellow gaze.

"Can you, Yuu?"

They walk over. Yuu places a hand on Deuce's and lift it off of him.

"I will if within my power."

"Yuu, he's being-!"

"Grim is my responsibility, Sir Spade. I should have kept an eye on him."

"Great!"

Ace steps back and fixes his shirt collar after Deuce's grip. When he looks up, and sees the three pairs of eyes on him, the blue pairs glowering, the golden unperturbed.

"Stop calling me Sir."

"Very well, Trappola."

"Dude, I meant call me Ace."

". . .alright."

"Alright. . .? " he moves his hand in a go on motion. Yuu stares at him, and he wonders if they know what the gesture-

"Alright. Ace."

"Cool," Ace says, and says nothing else as he leans against the kitchen island behind him and gets out his phone. Aaand the battery's dead when the electricity's out. Naturally. Because the world hates him. Would this place even have working sockets though-

"Wait. That's it?" Deuce glances between him and Yuu. "That's the favor?"

Ace shrugs. "Hey, I don't want to be called Sir Trappola like some uppity slavemaster while we're watching them. Besides, they're older than us!"

"I mean. . .I-I guess. . .huh. Hey, Yuu, could I also ask you to-"

"I'd rather not."

"Come on! I also helped you-"

"Oh so now you want to ask for favors-"

Deuce seems sheepish as he turns from Ace's judging look to Yuu. "I-it's not even that big a request is it?"

Grim harrumphed. "Well I'm not changing a thing!"

"Of course, Great Grim."

"C'mon Yuu, it would be faster if you-"

"Tried that one," Ace says. "Didn't bite. Rather not.'"

"I would rather not."

Deuce sighs. "Why do you call us Sir anyway?"

"It is appropriate."

"How is it appropriate?!"

"To address you two directly would be rude. Deference is best, when one does not know the status and titles-"

"Status? Titles? The f-" Deuce face screws up "What are you talking about, Yuu?"

"This is a mage's academy, no? Are magicians not nobles here?"

Deuce looks confused. "No? I mean, I heard we have some important people at NRC but- I'm normal. My mom does deliveries. I'm lucky to be here. We're not rich or anything like that."

Ace raises an eyebrow. "Same here. We're pretty ordinary. Dad can't even do magic, if that's how it works with you. Did you think we were posh brats or something?"

". . .you're commoners?"

Deuce blinks. "Okay, I guess technically, yes, but you don't have to. . .say it like that-"

"Yes," Ace says. "We are commoners, plebs, lowly people from lowly families. We aren't royal and we aren't gonna send you off the the gallows or whatever even if you piss us off. Is that all you needed to hear to stop being so fucking formal all the time?"

Yuu stares at them. ". . . I see. Thank you for the clarification, Ace."

"So you'll stop calling me Sir Spade?"

"I can try, S. .  . Deuce."

The dolt beams.

Ace shakes his head. "Unbelieveable. I should have saved the favor for something else."

"Too late!" Grim sneers.

Ace sighs and head over to check on the timer.

The cherry tart they've made is no mont blanc. It's more of a pie, really. Regardless, the smell at the end of the hour when the oven door opens, as the pastry is sliced and red syrup dribbles thickly out- it makes his mouth water. Fuck Yuu for wanting to bake at unreasonable hours, but at least they have good taste.

It's not a bad breakfast. It's not horrible company.

The ghosts wake them after they've all had way too little sleep. He hurries through his morning routine with the usual curses for the collar, but makes himself decent. When he gets down, Yuu's petting Grim with one hand as they read a booklet. He rolls his eyes at them, at their determination to go through the Rules, and asks if they've had any trouble. Deuce comes down soon after, also looking a little like hell but mostly put together. Yuu looks fine despite having spent what hours there were between baking and waking reading something beyond beginner reading level, because of course they do. If they space out again, and get hurt, that's on them then.

They leave Ramshackle together after some more of the pie, the ghosts seeing off the sleep-deprived group.

Yuu seems to smile down at the snoozing Grim in their basket, but that could just be the angle of their head. They don't look like a corpse or a criminal any more than they look forty years old.

"Yes, Ace? Is there something I can help ypu with?"

He yawns and looks away. "Nah. Just think Grim should be suffering like the rest of us. His fault we made a whole 'nother tart, yeah?

"Would you like me to carry you as well? We may arrive at the room sooner, and you will be able to sleep-"

Ace snorts. "Fat chance."

"Means no," Deuce says, and when Yuu turns to him- "A-also no thank you- I can walk fine!"

"Alright."

Ace goes ahead, eyes peeled, but despite the late sleep, they're all moving early enough to avoid the morning crowd. Anyone up right now's likely having breakfast in their dorms or the cafeteria.

He glances back and finds Deuce and Yuu chatting about something or the other (how much can Yuu carry, it sounds like, and how to convert whatever weights Yuu knows into normal units), then turns his attention back to the path.

They'll be fine. Probably.

They're gonna be fine.