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Ace wasn’t really the studious type. That was a conclusion Jamil came to quite naturally and in a rather short period of time, approximating nearly the length of a break during basketball club. He was approached quite jovially, which wasn’t necessarily uncommon for Ace - he was after all something of a social butterfly, or at least sly enough to be perceived as such - but somewhat predictable in the long run. And it was also not the first time. Based on memory alone, Jamil could identify at least five separate occasions during which Ace had become uncharacteristically helpful and reliable, making sure not to ask anything unreasonable from his upperclassmen and emphatically aligning with their thought process.
Or, if he was asked to put it in simpler terms, he had started to suck up to him out of the blue.
Jamil paused. Wiping the sweat away from his forehead, he glanced over in Ace’s direction, only to see him ready with a towel and a water bottle waiting on the bench. He grinned at him and had Jamil been anybody else - like Kalim, for example - he would have simply taken the gesture at face value. There was nothing wrong with a junior showing support towards a senior, after all? Right? It was just high school club politics and camaraderie and other nice fancy terms Ace laid out whenever he wanted people to think that he was indeed a good, helpful guy and anybody would be lucky to be his upperclassman. Jamil thought so too, didn’t he?
Turning away, he made sure to avoid Ace’s gaze as he dribbled past a third-year who tried blocking his path. There was nothing good that would come out from getting involved in whatever scheme Ace had cooked up now. Knowing him it would be something ridiculous anyway, and Jamil had no time for any ridiculous requests. Or any other on top of the ones he already got on the daily. His schedule was rather booked as it was. He managed to avoid the collision with the third year, making sure to side-step him smoothly, manoeuvring the ball from one arm to the other as he did so. It took the older boy by surprise, his hand reaching out for the object that wasn’t there anymore and stumbling slightly as he attempting to regain his balance.
The hoop was in sight. He figured that if he were to shoot from here he’d make it. It wouldn’t be a three-pointer, but at least it would give them a bit of an advantage. Inhaling swiftly, Jamil leaned back making sure he was aligned with the hoop, his eyes blind to almost anything else around him. It was just practice, that was true, but his week had been too stressful already. First, there was the way Kalim had started to ask for more ridiculous purchases, like a step-ladder that could reach the top of a house, and paint fit to renovate an entire two-story building. Both things that he had to go and put an order for at Sam’s shop, along with nails, a hammer, garden tools and many other such oddities whose necessity eluded the entire dorm. They were not going to actually renovate anything, right? The first-years mumbled among themselves as he walked down the hallway, desperately trying to avoid Azul’s presence by any means necessary.
Corners were checked, crowds were sought and whenever he found himself alone after classes he would make a beeline for the Magic Mirror and reach Scarabia without uttering a word to anybody. It’s not that the Prefect intimidating. Far from the truth. More than anything, Azul was an annoyance that was bordering on a headache with his incessant attempts to properly convey (i.e., manipulate) the urgency (i.e., his own self-interest) of Jamil switching dorms (i.e., come under his jurisdiction) for his own benefit (i.e., before they both left off for internships so Azul wouldn’t be able to make use of Jamil’s talents). On the whole, this was somewhat quite easy to ignore. Azul’s lack of physical capacities made him rather easy to outrun, and though he had gotten more insistent in the past week it was still manageable.
The thing that was not manageable, however, was Ace suddenly developing the same tendency to follow him around as Azul did, and simply because he could not see what his angle was. If he was Kalim (i.e., naive) he’d have assumed that the younger boy was merely being friendly. As part of the same basketball club, they would often meet up during practice and engage in small talk like any normal high schoolers would do. Though Jamil would never admit to it, he did enjoy somewhat those particular moments, if only because they represented a sort of normalcy he wasn’t accustomed to. Ace wasn’t particularly bright. He struck Jamil as the sort who preferred to do more work to avoid doing any in the first place, as contradictory as it sounded. Somehow it was an accomplishment to actually avoid pulling through with effort even if the task was quite insignificant in retrospect. To someone like him, who would rather not have done any such work in the first place, it was merely confusing. And concerning. That sort of craftiness reminded him too much of Azul, which is why he probably discouraged Ace’s sudden interest in him.
It was dubious to have somebody follow him around like this. Not even Najma would have been so dedicated, and she was his little sister who until the age of four had held his hand every time they had to cross the road. Jamil would always attempt to ensure her that she was safe in their small neighbourhood, where only the occasional shoplifter would dare stir some trouble, but nothing could change her mind when it was set. Najma would cling to him like a koala to its mother and at some point, Jamil just got used to leading her along. He thought he would have been happy when she finally grew up and angrily denied ever needing his help, but it felt strangely hollow to cross the road just by himself for a while.
Though if Ace ever asked to hold his hand like that, Jamil was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from shuddering. He already had to hold himself back from grimacing every time Ace loudly called him over to sit at his table in the cafeteria, or when he would wait for him outside the classroom and offer to carry his books for him, or during practice where he’d prepare a water bottle and a towel every time he took a break, cheerfully walking over to gift them to him with a bright smile on his face. It was sickening. And it put Jamil on edge.
All in all, he just wasn’t having a good time. But it was Friday, so there was hope that things might turn around. The skies would part and there would be some peace and quiet at last.
He was not a superstitious person by design, but if there was ever a sign that luck was on his side, it would be now as he attempted to score. Just one point could make the difference after all.
So he put his faith in it and gave it his best shot.
The ball soared through the air, over the heads of his team members, slowly spinning as it neared the hoop. It was going to make it. He was going to score. Already he could feel some of the tension leaving his muscles, and though he would certainly be sore later, it would be worth it for just this one shot.
And then the ball was slammed into the ground, bouncing all the way out the court and ending by the feet of their manager who watched in disbelief how Floyd slowly landed on his feet. He was laughing, mouth pulled into a sharp grin, and in the quiet gymnasium, it was the only sound that could be heard.
“Floyd,” Jamil exhaled sharply. “We’re playing on the same team.”
The only response he got was another grin, followed by more mocking laughter. “I know, but seeing if I could stop that shot seemed more fun than just sitting around, you know?”
Was he even supposed to fake surprise anymore? Surely by now everybody had gotten used to how much of a wild card Floyd could be. He was strong, that was true, and he had good instincts but his devil-may-care attitude and unreliability was not something one would look for in the case of team sports. It explained why he rarely got to play in any of the official games. Having him on the court was too much of a gamble, and unless the match was already going downhill there was no point in bringing him out. If there was a chance of recovery, having Floyd there could either ensure their win or completely assassinate it. And if there wasn’t, there was no harm in letting him go wild. It was all a matter of calculations and he had always been good at that.
The only problem was that it left Floyd with too much energy and nothing to take it out on. Except for Jamil’s shots, it seemed.
Their captain had them take a break. Club hours were coming to a close anyway, so there was no point in prolonging this. It would be better if they all just started to wind down and pack it up for today. That Jamil didn’t even get to take another shot didn’t seem to bother anybody else, and since he wasn’t going to be selfish and inconvenience them, he resigned himself to chalking it up as a failure. Just as well. At least this way his entire week was following a pattern.
“Man, you were really close there, sempai!” Ace sneaked up on him with more skill than he expected but Jamil made sure not to display his surprise so readily. Reaching out for the bottle of water he had kept on the bench, he was surprised to see it rolled under it now.
“Oh, guess somebody must have knocked it over by accident.” Ace supplied and quickly made sure to supply another one, unopened and glistening with beads of water. Jamil had wanted to scoff but instead merely crouched down to retrieve the bottle and drink the remaining part until it was completely empty.
“Those things happen,” he mumbled. Especially if nosy first-years are involved in any way .
“Yeah, people really should be more conscious of what they are doing,” Ace said. Without any prompting, he thrust a towel towards Jamil and grinned. “You look like you worked a sweat out there, sempai! I was really impressed by your form, you know? You looked like a professional with your moves! Bet it comes naturally and you barely have to practice at all, right?”
Jamil had seen ass-kissing before. It was a part of any servant’s daily life to a certain point. There was more value in keeping your mouth shut and thoughts to yourself, unless it was to pay lip service, that simply wasn’t as necessary in any other profession. If he could call it that. But even so, the lengths to which Ace was going right now surpassed mere self-preservation and could be chalked up to pure shamelessness. It reminded him so much of Azul that it almost made his skin break in hives.
Ace’s expectant expression had not gone anywhere at all and given his body language, and general stubbornness Jamil surmised that the easiest course of action right now would be to simply give in and let him get his way. Surely once he got what he wanted he would leave him alone. Right?
“Thanks,” he mumbled. The towel was pre-heated and softer than he imagined, so it wasn’t all that strange when he buried his face in it to hide the grimace that was already forming. Scratch breaking out into hives, he was ready to bolt out of the gymnasium at any moment. “And it’s all hard work. No talent.” Not all of us are born with bodies that are two meters tall and ridiculously strong.
Somewhere behind him, Floyd sneezed.
Ace laughed. More forced than usual, he realized. “Man, you’re too humble sempai! I always said that about you! You don’t really value your own abilities. You’re an amazing player! Both in and outside the court.”
Jamil stopped. Or better said he froze. Or maybe turned to stone. It was either one of those, and frankly neither were all that pleasant. Ace must have not noticed, his gaze trained on the stream of club members who were slowly making their way out of the building. The sun was low in the sky by now, giving everything a rather pleasant red glow that he would have enjoyed under entirely different circumstances. Now, he just wished there could be a way for him to disappear along with the light.
“What,” he choked out, trying to figure out how to keep the water from going down the wrong path. “What are you talking about?”
Ace smiled almost innocently. Almost. “Come on, I’ve seen the way Walpurga Nacht girls keep following you around campus! You’re really popular with them. What’s your secret?”
So that was it. The secrecy, the overly friendly behaviour that sent shivers down his spine - it was all just a ploy to get him into Jamil’s good graces. His tense muscles relaxed and it felt like a weight had dropped off his shoulders, no longer pushing him down and keeping him on edge. Unknown kindness was a threat, mostly because it meant that he couldn’t discern the objective behind it. There was too much at stake there for him to wander off unarmed. There was always the risk of getting played in one manner or another. But this - this faked kindness, these underhanded techniques? This was something he understood. He would even go as far as to say it was something he excelled at.
If Ace wanted to play a game of wits, well, he was prepared to win.
“Following me around campus? I didn’t notice,” he replied. Lying was the most effective way of dealing with the situation. It would mean he’d deflect Ace’s questions with half-true statements until the latter got bored and dropped the matter altogether, never to be touched upon again.
Dealing with Ace’s inane questions was one thing, but somehow this getting back to Yuuki would be way more devastating than anything else. He had to make sure it ended here.
Only problem was that Ace was as stubborn as a mule.
“What? No way!” Jamil could hear a sliver of irritation slip through the obvious charade of innocent banter. “Just last week those Oraluna students kept tailing around to get you to have tea with them! And the week before that those Monarchia girls were clinging onto you! Not to mention that Noctasis-”
“Alright, I get it.” He rubbed his temples. The gymnasium was bare now, except for the two of them and the manager and coach instructing some of the first years to clean up in the other corner. It was big enough that neither could hear the other side’s conversation, but still, he turned around to make sure nobody could see him speak. Ace’s face was a mosaic of confusion and curiosity, hidden under a thick layer of forced cheerfulness. “So you want to learn how to talk to girls? Is that it?”
Ace blinked. Nervously, he grinned. “Wha- Why would I need to learn that?”
“You said I was a ‘player’. And then kept pestering me about my relationships with the students of another academy. An all-girls academy,” Jamil explained.
“Those were just- I was just curious, you know?” Ace shrugged. Jamil sensed this would not be the end of the discussion and as soon as he saw his mouth opening, he knew he was right. Sometimes, Ace really wore his heart on his sleeve. Or, he supposed, cheek in this case. “There’s nothing to tell, if there’s nothing to tell, right?”
Jamil nodded. “There’s nothing to tell then.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
A moment of silence.
“I had a girlfriend in middle school, you know?” Ace supplied out of nowhere. The manager had finished gathering the supplies and locked them in the backroom. The throng of first years passed by them, stretching out their muscles, and nodding respectfully in Jamil’s direction.
He briefly wondered why he couldn’t get saddled with cleaning duty as well, as he saw the doors to the gymnasium close. Or maybe with one of them as a junior. He was willing to bet they didn’t hold back their seniors with inane questions at the end of practice.
“Oh, good for you,” he replied dismissively.
“She was the one who asked me out,” Ace continued. “Kinda head over heels for me, actually. Was devastated when we broke up.”
Jamil pressed his lips tightly shut so no rebuke could pass through, but in his mind, he argued that it was not as compelling a case as Ace imagined it to be. It definitely did not put him in the best light either, and in terms of proving his desirability, it lacked any sort of argument. So he merely remarked, “I see.”
“Yeah,” Ace said jovially. “I was kind of a heartthrob I guess.”
You really shouldn’t.
“So I know how to talk to girls and all that. You know?”
Ah, so here was the problem. Almost instinctively Jamil nodded his head, a glazed expression across his face. A valuable skill that he’d learned as a child was that it was infinitely easier to merely consign to being a listening ear, devoid of any judgement or impatience until the other party was overflowing entirely with the sound of their own voice. They did not want advice - or not the kind he had to offer - just to feel heard to some degree. And that was manageable enough, and it let him off the hook easier, so he did not mind it in the slightest.
Surviving was, after all, the one thing he did best above all. And in order to do that, he had to pay attention.
Like right now, as beyond the words that came out of Ace’s mouth, there lied a hidden meaning that became more apparent with every second that passed. And it was that Ace did not really care for Jamil’s apparent popularity with the girls of Walpurga Nacht, at least not in a substantial way. If Jamil had just told him the truth - that those Oraluna students had got lost and decided to tail him for their own reasons; that the Monarchia girls just wanted to interrogate him about Azul, their ‘Big Sister’s’ “mate”, and wouldn’t take no for an answer; that the Noctasis girls tended to follow Vita’s instructions in terms of picking targets for their own amusement, and it didn’t actually mean anything in particular - then the matter would be closed. Because it was inconsequential. Ace had never and would never truly care about his romantic prospects, because he was an opportunist at heart, and carried along with people in a superficial manner.
That he decided to become involved meant only one thing: he needed something. Information, most likely. Suddenly, the pieces had begun to fall together. Kalim’s inordinate spending, the sudden glimpses of two people walking along the Scarabia hallway, arm around the waist as always, the way Ace reached out to him, almost in desperation. He’d noticed by now - the long glances, the stolen looks, there was something there which couldn’t be explained through any amount of delusion. Even Ace couldn’t keep his head in the sand anymore.
But reaching out to him like this was not going to solve anything. For Jamil was not going to intervene in any capacity - in any that would matter anyway. It was not prudent.
It was not careful.
“Yes, I suppose I can see that.”
Not really, no, but it was what he wanted to hear.
“Yeah- I mean, you’re too kind, sempai!” He laughed with such ease it almost made Jamil sigh. “But, the thing is, I have to admit it wasn’t particularly hard to be a heartthrob back then. The girls in my middle school would fawn over everybody.”
“I see.” You’re too cocky. I can’t imagine somebody found that attractive.
“So I guess, it was really easy to date back then.” Another pause. “Not that I’m interested in dating right now.”
“Of course.” Then if you aren’t, drop the subject and let me get on with my day. Servants only have so much free time.
“But,” Ace continued. “Trying to date a girl who’s hard to get kinda has its own appeal, right? Kinda like a challenge.”
Jamil nodded, slowly. “I suppose.” If any girl heard you say that, she’d probably slap you.
Yuuki would. And it would hurt, and it would be deserved. But she wasn’t here.
Glancing at his phone, he realized it’s been forty minutes since they’ve had this conversation. More time than he wanted to waste on it. For these was nothing of value to gain from it, and nothing of value to add to it. The mysteries of dating were still unknown even to him, despite Ace’s contrary claims to his popularity. He supposed that from an outsider’s perspective, he was rather popular. The girls of Walpurga Nacht did not hide their interest in him. That was certain, at the very least. They were headstrong and bold like that, marching at their own pace like the world was made for them.
He couldn’t imagine what that felt like. It seemed too daunting. Too much freedom must be as caging as servitude, must it not?
Regardless, he knew he wasn’t the man for the task. Hopefully Ace would understand this too.
“I knew we were on the same wavelength, sempai!” Ace beamed. “I’ve always said we were like two peas in a pod!”
No, you haven’t. And now you’re laying it on too thick.
“So then-”
“Sorry,” Jamil sighed.
“What? Why are you apologizing?”
Forty-five minutes. That’s a lot of time. The way that minutes pass by has never seemed so heavy to him before. It felt like he could count every grain of sand as it slipped by, filling up the bottom. It seemed endless, and it mostly was, for he couldn’t see the top that was stretched over the clouds. It’s been this way ever since winter vacation. Ever since he lost control, let his festering resentment boil to the point of no return and unleashed it all on the ones he found closest to him.
She’d never looked so horrified. Never gazed at him with fear and apprehension in such a way that it send shivers down his spine and his heart in a tumult. It was unbearable. It made him feel powerful. It made him feel ashamed. It reminded him of his faults. It reminded him of the glory that awaited.
He’d depose the Sultan. He’ll take his place. And the dorm would be his and his alone. And she’d stay with him. And he’d have it all, and nobody would dare oppose him, because this was his right.
His throne. His desert flower. The Sultan of a magic lamp.
Jamil bit the inside of his cheek. He tasted iron for a second before he steeled himself again. Ace was still in front of him. Wide-eyed and frozen and waiting for his reply.
He had to rip the bandaid now.
“I can’t help you out,” he said. “Not with this. If she’s not interested in you, then you shouldn’t force the issue. It would only make her more uncomfortable.”
And she’d freeze you out - perhaps the fear was still too much, or maybe something else. But they haven’t spoken for weeks now and he missed it more than he would admit.
Ace huffed. “I’m not forcing the issue. I think she likes me-”
“No, she doesn’t.” It might have been harsh, but he’s already decided he needed to go ahead with it. There was no backing out now. Not anymore. “And you know this. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here asking me about dating advice-”
“I don’t need dating advice-”
“Fine,” Jamil interrupted. “Then consider it life advice. Don’t try to reach for something that’s not yours. It only ends badly. Not only for you but for everybody else around as well. Kore’s made her choice and-”
“Kore?” Ace’s eyebrows furrowed. His mouth pulled down in a frown, and with his arms crossed now, he looked like the one who had his time wasted. “I never said anything about Kore. Why are you bringing her up? Weren’t we talking about Walpurga Nacht girls just now?”
They were. And they weren’t. Jamil had made a miscalculation. Something that did not happen often, but for which he dearly paid every time. This time he figured the price would be far tamer, but just as difficult to pay: social embarrassment. Breathing in, he steeled himself for the discussion that was about to follow and the uncomfortable path it was going to be taken when, somehow, someone, took pity on his plight and send forward a saviour.
Or rather, a villain.
“Hm~ Are you going on about the mantis shrimp again, crabby?” Floyd purred as he threw his arm around Ace’s shoulders. The younger boy almost toppled over and the unexpected gravity shift meant that it ended up looking more like a headlock than a one-armed hug, though Jamil doubted it was even meant to be one in the first place. As Ace spluttered, he continued. “You’ve been yapping about her for a while now. It’s really gross~”
It rather concerned Jamil how much in-sync he and Floyd were at that moment.
Ace coughed. “I wasn’t! I was just asking Jamil-sempai how come he’s so popular with the girls from Walpurga! Why would I care about Kore, huh?!”
“Hey, did you know that mantis shrimps eat crabs?” Floyd laughed. Jerking Ace closer he began to sway him from side to side, still keeping him in a tight headlock. “They bash their hard shells and rip their arms off. It’s really funny to see it~ You should take a look~”
Ace pushed away the phone that was shoved into his face. When patting Floyd’s arm in defeat, didn’t yield any results, he glanced to Jamil for help and was dismayed to see him zip up his bag and prepare to leave.
“Jamil-sempai!” He yelled, voice slightly hoarse. Maybe Floyd would end up strangling him after all. “Wait, about our discussion-”
Jamil sighed. Without looking back he replied, “Just give it up. The Walpurga Nacht girls are too advanced for you. And too much of a hassle. Look for something else.”
“But-”
“Huh?” Floyd laughed, peering into his face. Ace had always found the sight of sharp teeth rather intimidating, and this time was no exception. The close range seemed to enhance it even. “So you were looking for dating advice, crabby? That’s lame~”
Ace huffed, or at least tried to. The hold was getting rather tight.
Oblivious to his distress, Floyd continued. “But since I’m bored, I’ll give you some advice. You gotta find a girl you can fight. Otherwise, it’s a bore~ Trust me, if you get a girl like Yoru, things will be fun~”
“Floyd-sempai!”
“The hatchlings are fun, ‘cause they always yap so-”
“Floyd-sempai!”
The sunset washed the courtyard in a warm hue. Leaving the sounds of the gymnasium behind, Jamil took in a deep breath. Spring was coming. They all said it was the season of chance, of change, of renewal. When a snake can shed its skin and be reborn, free of all that drudgery that was the past.
It was the season of rabbits too. And would things be kind, perhaps of unexpected meetings. Though he wouldn’t call himself a sentimentalist by any means. That was reserved for those who could afford such notions. And he was no such man.
And yet, as things would have it, luck can strike twice in a day.
Fishing his phone from his pocket, Jamil stared at the lit screen. It was just for a brief second, but he spied the familiar name, that brought forth a familiar surge of excitement and though it said nothing more than a simple ‘Hi’, he still felt this renewal surge through his body.
There was a lot to be discussed between them. There was a lot to be dissected. A lot of blame to assign, a lot of comfort to be given.
But now there was also a sign.
Sighing in relief, Jamil unlocked the screen and opened the message. He could agonize over the response. He could think through all the scenarios. He could plot. He could scheme.
Or he could just let go. It was a pretty sunset. And there was warmth too.
‘Hey.’
He thought the sky was starting to show itself again.