Archive of Our Own

Not gonna lie, writing this was interesting because I've never explored either character from this angle before; while Class VII in general are friends and comrades at this point, it's safe to say that the connections aren't quite as strong as they'd eventually become later on and that definitely colored how I wrote these two! They're not super shippy in this fic, not yet anyway :P

After the ordeal Group A had gone through, Emma wasn't at all surprised when most of her classmates had opted to nap on the train ride home.

A cursory search of the cabin had Rean slumped against a window seat, Jusis snoozing away with his arms loosely crossed, and Fie curled up in a ball like… well, like she normally was.

Her lips turned upwards in a small smile. They deserved every bit of rest they could get before they got back, especially considering that Class VII was leaving the Verdant City with more questions than answers. Instructor Sara had seemed cagey about the whole matter when she left the car to 'stretch her legs', but Emma had a sneaking suspicion the older woman was having struggles of her own trying to piece the mystery together and didn't want to burden her students any more than they already were.

Well, that was three classmates and one teacher accounted for. That just left…

"Emma."

Never mind.

"Machias," she greeted, flashing her fellow class representative a tired smile as she turned around in her seat. "You have good timing. I was just about to check if you were sleeping like everyone else."

"If only. I was finding it difficult to doze off so I thought I'd read a little," he explained with a shake of his head, tapping his squared-off jacket pocket for emphasis. "It's always best to make use of time when you have it."

"Agreed," Emma said, belatedly wishing she hadn't changed her mind about taking some reading material of her own. She'd brought a book along during their last field study, but between trying to get all their tasks done and helping Gaius and Fie keep Machias and Jusis from killing each other there hadn't exactly been a lot of spare time to wind down.

The frightening thing was that even accounting for Rean's unfortunate injury and Machias being thrown in jail, this field study had still managed to be a massive improvement over their disastrous trip to Parm. Emma could only cross her fingers and hope that was a sign of things to come, because the alternative was almost too terrifying to comprehend.

Machias, meanwhile, had started shifting on his feet to and fro, not looking the least bit comfortable. The odd sight was not lost on Emma, drained as she was.

"… Is everything all right?" she asked, a little taken aback to see him so unusually restless, especially after the day they'd had. A moment later, her eyes widened in concern as an ugly possibility reared its head.

"You're not still hurt or anything, are you?" she asked, bolting up in her seat (and startling Machias in the process), instinctively holding out a hand. "Please, let me – "

"N-No!" he answered hastily, holding up his own hands in a gesture that probably would have been somewhat soothing had it been coming from anyone but an agitated Machias Regnitz. "I'm not injured in the slightest, I assure you. I'm grateful for your concern, however."

She blinked.

"Truly, I am," Machias added, apparently under the impression that was her overriding concern at the moment.

"Oh," she murmured faintly, relaxing into the cushion as the sudden adrenaline rush faded as quickly as it had come. "That's a relief. I wasn't sure of everyone's condition after the battle, and considering the guards that apprehended you earlier didn't seem particularly friendly I was concerned that… well…"

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line at the unpleasant memory. "Ah. Well, they certainly weren't in a hurry to make things welcoming for me, but I have to admit they didn't lay a hand on me either, much as they may have wanted to. I-I suppose dealing with the headache wouldn't have been worth it for them," he finished, the slight waver giving away that he might have been more worried than he was letting on.

Emma nodded slowly. "I see."

"All the better for us, I guess. After all, it's unlikely you have any more of your grandmother's medication lying around," and she could only hope the forced laugh that bubbled forth didn't sound as weak and brittle to his ears as it did to hers.

"I'm sure that I could ask for her to send a little more when I write home next," she lied, the guilty discomfort that had taken her by surprise her when she had first lied to Rean and the others having returned with a vengeance. "Just like I'm sure she'll be pleased to hear that there's demand for it."

His expression lightened just a touch, and it was remarkable how such a subtle change could have such a noticeable effect. "That's good to know."

She giggled in reply and this time the laugh was genuine. Not that Machias was in any position to understand the difference, much less appreciate it.

"W-What's so funny?" he asked, his trademark defensiveness reasserting itself immediately, much to her amusement.

"Oh, nothing at all. Would you like to sit down, by the way?" Emma asked, belatedly realizing that Machias had been standing the whole time and gesturing to the empty seat beside her in welcome. "It's been a long day. I think your feet have earned the rest."

An uncertain silence was all he had to offer in response.

"I won't bite, I promise," she teased gently, fairly confident that he wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Machias scoffed, his hand coming up to adjust his glasses. "Please. As if such a ridiculous thought would have ever entered my mind to start with," he muttered, his gaze turning to face the scenery that was passing them by at a rapid clip as he sat down net to her.

Emma studied him carefully, this self-proclaimed academic rival of hers. She had to admit, she'd had her reservations before they'd started officially working together as representatives. His constant clashes with Jusis had made her a little wary - in all fairness, anyone with eyes could tell that was by no means a one-sided conflict - and though he was nothing but polite and cordial to the rest of Class VII she always wondered how the two of them would collaborate when the time finally came.

Much to her surprise, things had gone almost perfectly from the beginning. While there was no doubt that Machias took his goal of overtaking her quite seriously, there was also no doubt that he'd left any feelings of rivalry at the door, ensuring they never interfered with their duties. It had also been rapidly made clear that they worked brilliantly together, their natural strengths at organization and coordination allowing them to get far more done as a unit then as independent entities (much to the undisguised joy of Instructor Sara, who gladly welcomed any opportunity to make her job easier with open arms).

As the days had passed, the boy's hard shell had gradually started to soften, confirming to Emma what she'd started to suspect early on; for all his curt greetings and solemn airs, Machias Regnitz wasn't anywhere near as prickly as he appeared. Though she'd long resigned herself to the fact he wasn't particularly talkative even on the best of days, she'd nevertheless grown accustomed to the polite nod he always offered in greeting, along with the questions he'd occasionally ask her about the Literature Club in-between tasks. Emma wasn't at all surprised to discover that he'd shared a love for the written word that was only matched by hers, to the point where their conversations about books were about the only times she could recall getting a smile out of him.

(Much to Emma's chagrin, however, it hadn't escaped her that it was usually her telling him about what she enjoyed reading and not the other way around. That, she decided, was going to have to change at some point).

"… Emma."

She didn't quite jump, though she certainly cut it a lot closer than she might have preferred.

"Y-Yes?" she managed to stammer out, more than a little flustered at being caught so unaware. "What is it?"

He didn't answer at first and it was hard not to notice that his expression was unusually sober, even by his lofty standards.

"Machias?" she said, gingerly trying to coax forth a reply. "Is there something on your mind?"

A rough exhale.

"I suppose there is," he admitted, adjusting his glasses again as he spoke, something that wasn't lost on Emma. She would occasionally do the same with hers when she was nervous; perhaps he was the same. "I never took the time to commend you on the exemplary job you've done thus far, have I?"

She shook her head at the same time she started waving her hands, fully intent on nipping that thought in the bud before it could bloom any further. While it was a welcome change from his single-minded focus on their entrance exam scores, as far as she was concerned they had all acquitted themselves well in the Verdant City and that was the end of that.

"Oh, don't be silly. While I appreciate the compliment, it's safe to say that our success on this field study was really more of a class effort than anything else, no?" she told him with a laugh that slowly trailed off into nothing when she saw him swallow and avert his gaze.

"Perhaps, though that's actually not what I was talking about."

Her brow creased. "I'm not sure I follow," she admitted, running the words through her head and trying to figure out what she was missing.

"I-I mean," he continued, sounding more and more uncomfortable with each word, "it couldn't have been easy for you – and Fie, and Gaius, and Rean – to put up with what you all put up with in Parm and Bareahard. To make matters worse, you and Fie had to deal it over the course of two field studies instead of just one. Though on second thought it might not be appropriate to include Fie given how she opted to avoid the issue entirely, whereas you attempted to… er…"

The light dawned on Emma in the middle of his rambling (she'd never heard him ramble before, it was surprisingly endearing) and in spite of the very real duress he was bringing up she was unable to keep her lips from curling upwards.

So, that was it.

"Machias."

He stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open, and it took all of Emma's willpower to keep her smile from turning into a giggle.

"Y-Yes?"

"I understand," she assured him. "You don't have to say any more. It's going to be all right, really."

He swallowed hard before looking away again, a regretful expression crossing his sharp features. "It's hardly all right considering the results of our last field study and Rean's injury. I… I should have known better, Emma. Being angry and making myself look foolish is one thing, but having others suffer the consequences is quite another."

She held off on answering for a few moments, weighing her words carefully as her smile gradually faded.

"You're not wrong," she finally acknowledged with a sigh, knowing that there was no real way to avoid the sting while still being truthful about what had happened. "Our excursion in Parm certainly could have gone better, and it's very likely that the situation with Rean would have been completely avoidable with better teamwork on the table. With that said," she added quickly, feeling a sympathetic twinge when she saw him wince, "you weren't exactly alone in that, Machias. Jusis had his part to play too, and it wouldn't be fair to hang everything happened solely on either one of you."

Machias gave a resigned nod at that. "I suppose that's true. Don't be surprised if he wants to speak to you privately at some point soon, and I imagine he'll make the effort for the others as well."

Left unspoken, 'and so will I'.

"I'll bear that in mind," she replied, sneaking a quick glance to make sure the blonde was still sleeping. Satisfied that he was, Emma turned back to Machias, who in all honesty looked like he'd have rather been anywhere else. "Getting back on topic, I also think that it would also be unfair of me not to recognize the effort you showed to make amends, wouldn't you say?"

He snorted, evidently not all that convinced. "You seem to be forgetting that it was only after the damage was already done."

"Better late than never, as the saying goes."

"Penetrating observation," he grumbled half-heartedly, and Emma found her smile returning when the words lacked the heated annoyance they might have normally carried.

"Anyway." She raised a hand to block out the sudden glare through the window, the sun having made a timely reappearance from behind some cloud cover. "While I'm not exactly disagreeing with your assessment of what's gone on until now, it also doesn't sound like you have any intention of reverting to form, either. You don't, do you?" Emma asked, a playful lilt in her voice.

Needless to say, his response to her provocation was both immediate and predictable.

"D-Don't be ridiculous!" he snapped, sitting ramrod straight in his seat and looking as though Emma had declared chess and checkers to be equal in stature. "Now you listen here, I have no intention of jeopardizing any future field studies or the health of our classmates from here on out, that much I promise you!"

She knew he didn't. Of course she knew, just like she knew that he'd keep that promise no matter what it took. Machias was stubborn like that.

"Hehe. That's a comforting thought. And your feud with Jusis?" she probed mildly, watching as he closed his eyes with a pained grimace and started to massage his temples, seemingly willing himself to speak.

"… That remains to be seen, though at least there won't be any more collateral damage going forward."

Of course, she thought with a resigned shake of her head. Goddess forbid that he admit (even grudgingly) the worst was behind them.

Boys. Honestly.

Out loud, "Well, if that's the case there doesn't seem like there's anything for Class VII to worry about, is there?"

"W-Well no, but – "

"No buts, Mr. Vice President," she interrupted, more than a little amused at the indignant glare he shot her. "You're moving forward, just like I'm sure Jusis is moving forward, and that means we should all move forward too. After all, there's not a lot of sense in dwelling on the past, especially when we can focus our attention on the days to come instead."

He remained quiet.

"I meant what I said, Machias," Emma assured him, not a trace of censure or judgment to be found. "It's going to be all right."

Her gaze was gentle and honest, gradually quelling the storm of uncertainty that she saw across from her, and the all too brief glimpse of quiet gratitude that took its place only reinforced what she'd already known for quite some time; try as he might to pretend otherwise, he really was a thoughtful person at heart -

"… Hmph."

- even if that didn't necessarily mean he was totally comfortable with showing it quite yet.

"I really was trying to apologize, I'll have you know," he muttered at last, the tinge of red on his cheeks clashing horribly with his attempt at a sour expression. "The least you could have done is let me do it properly."

Emma, for her part, didn't bother to try and hide her smile. It hardly seemed worth fighting a battle she couldn't win.

"While I gathered that was your intention, at the rate you were going I'm not entirely convinced you would have made it," she teased, playfully resting a cheek on her palm as his face reddened further still.

"I-I was getting there!" he snapped, glaring at her imperiously (kind of) and oh, yes; this was the Machias Regnitz that she and the rest of Class VII were far more used to dealing with. "It was just a matter of trying to – er, find the proper verbiage to convey my sentiments, nothing more!

She nodded solemnly, folding her hands in her lap. "Mm-hmm. I believe you."

"Ugh. Sarcasm is a poor look on you, Emma," he groused, standing up to go back to his seat. "At any rate, I've said my piece. I'll… I'll be better in the future, you and the others can count on it," he finished, his head held high and his jaw set with determination.

Her eyes softened. "I know you will. I believe that, too."

With one final nod, Machias excused himself and started to shuffle past her, and before she could think about it -

"Machias?"

He stopped. "Yes?"

Emma gestured toward his jacket, her smile turning just a little shy. "What were you reading earlier?"

He stared at her wordlessly, his expression unreadable as he reached into his pocket and gently placed the book on the vacant seat, waiting and watching as a surprised Emma eagerly reached out, her fingertips running their way across the well-worn cover.

"It's a short novel. The author's unconfirmed to this day but most seem to think it was written by one of Heimdallr's more notable talents working under a pseudonym," he explained. "I'd tell you more but I highly doubt I'd be able to do justice to it."

She looked up, her face alight with inquisitiveness. "Hehe. Now you've gotten me curious. Should I save it for when I have time, then?"

He shrugged. "Do as you like. I look forward to hearing your thoughts when you're finished."

And before she could say anything else, he was gone.

She waited until he was seated again before gingerly starting to skim through it, ever-mindful of being careful with property that wasn't hers despite the book having seen far better days; the pages were ripped, the corners were dog-eared and the majority of the margins were filled with a scrawl that looked… familiar.

Very, very familiar.

He'd made notes, she realized in a burst of delight, looking at the handwriting on the bottom of the title page. Of course he'd made notes. How could she have expected otherwise?

"- A message to whoever reads this after me; despite the straightforward premise, rest assured that this tale is about far more than an old man attempting to catch a fish after eighty four days of fruitless struggle."

Then, right below:

"- Though make no mistake, it also concerns that."

Stifling a warm giggle behind a hand and ensuring that his attention was still on the window, Emma quickly slipped a pencil out of her satchel.

"- Thank you for the clarification. I was rather worried about being misled, you see…"