Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Monday, October 15th, 1956

“Today you and the student sitting next to you will be asked to prepare a report about a book you have both read. On Wednesday, you and your partner will present it to the class. I expect both members of each pairing to contribute equally. You must both do your part of both the writing and the presenting.”

Why can’t I be in Becky’s class…?

Anya lamented internally. However, it was nothing compared to that of the girl sitting to her left.

“The whole class? In front of the whole class? I… I can’t do that! I can’t. DAMMIT! I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t–”

The sheer fear in her thoughts startled Anya, who had rarely bothered to pay attention to what Meg—her name is Meg, right?—was thinking.

Is she okay? She’s almost as stressed as Papa.

Meg’s breathing hastened, her thoughts giving Anya a headache.

“Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. I don’t like this. Not at all. Talking to Connie is hard enough. Talking to anyone else is worse. Everyone? I’ll have to fake being sick again… I’d be leaving Forger to deal with this alone… I’d be a bad person for that, wouldn’t I? Dad will probably catch on anyway. He’d say something like, ‘Megan! You know you can talk, just do it, dammit!’ But he’s wrong. I… I can’t. I’m tired. Of words falling away in my throat.”

Anya knew Meg didn’t talk much, but…

She can’t talk?

“Meggy Moon-toast. Don’t worry. Starlight Anya’s got this.”

“What’s she talking about?”

Meg opened her mouth but nothing came out.

“Dammit Meg, just say something!”

“I’ll do the talking. You just tell me what I’m gonna say.”

“Did she know–”

Eah! Can’t reveal my telypath powers!

“It’s written on your face. You don’t talk much, so I assume you want me to do that part.”

Meg’s face showed amazement, eyes wide and sparkling.

“She knows. She figured it out. Forger’s super good at telling expressions… Is she trying to help?”

I was right!

“Am I right?”

Meg cautiously nodded.

Anya slid her notebook over.

“Don’t talk if it's hard. Just write stuff. Now can we do our report on Spy Wars?”

Tuesday, October 16th, 1956

History class. Meg tried to pay attention to Henderson, but she couldn't. Her mind was stuck on yesterday. 

What did I do to deserve this from Forger? She’s really willing to go through a whole project with me even if I'm not saying a word? Surely Henderson is going to wonder why I'm not doing any of the presen–

Her thoughts were cut off as she felt something hit the back of her head. A ball of paper fell onto her lap.

Ow! Who would–

Forger was staring at her with her signature smirk.

What the hell was that for? 

Forger mimed unfolding a piece of paper. 

This can't be good. 

Meg unraveled and smoothed the note, and started to read.

Morse Code and You

A practical solution to talking without talking

Can’t Say That Word?

-Fact: Words are hard

-Writing takes too long

-Spy talk is cooler

-and Starlight Anya will help

-(she’s the best)

IMPOSSIBLE?

Introducing… Morse Code!!

With Morse Code, you can stay quiet and talk at the same time!

It’s “Easy!”

How It’s Done

-Get my attention.

-Tap your finger in a pattern on your desk. 

-It doesn’t need to be loud enough for anyone to hear, I just need to see it.

-Follow the code below

-You did it!

-(go you)

• is a short tap. - is a long tap. 

Short gap between letters, long gap between words.

A: •-

B: -•••

C: -•-•

D: -••

E: •

F: ••-•

G: --•

H: ••••

I: ••

J: •---

K: -•-

L: •-••

M: --

N: -•

O: ---

P: •--•

Q: --•-

R: •-•

S: •••

T: -

U: ••-

V: •••-

W: •--

X: -••-

Y: -•--

Z: --••

Trouble in Paradise?

8 quick taps to ignore the previous letter if you mess up.

If it's taking too long to say anything, then tap faster.

Don’t worry about me. I’m super good at reading it, so tap as fast as you want.

Happy Tapping!

Meg was speechless. While working on their project yesterday, Forger had definitely seemed… frustrated at the speed of communication.

Did she go and learn a code just for me?

No, hold on.

Anya Forger was unrivaled at Eden College for her language prowess… as long as it wasn’t Ostanian. It’s an open secret that she’s the token Westalian at the school, so of course she knows their language, but she also spoke Classical like it was her mother tongue. She translated Albarian cartoons and Yaponese mangas for anyone who asked, and held entire conversations with Tertius in Septevian. It would be no exaggeration to assume that she knew a hundred different ways to communicate, despite only being 7 years old.

Anyone who knows Forger knows she’s obsessed with spies. She’s probably known Morse Code her whole life. She’s teaching me so I don’t have to talk to her?

Meg made eye contact with Forger and started carefully tapping her finger.

- • ••• -   

- •••• ••- -- -•••   ••- •--•   •• ••-•   -•-- --- ••-   -•-• •- -•   •••• • •- •-•   -- •

“test”

“thumb up if you can hear me”

Anya shot her a thumbs up, and Meg smiled.

Wednesday, October 17th, 1956

Anya walked into her language class, holding a telegraph made by her Uncle Scruffy.

“Meggy.”

Her classmate looked up, and Anya thrust the device into her hands.

“Twist the dial to change the volume. Push down on that to make the beeps.”

Meg pushed the button down cautiously, and listened to the beep, a smile on her face.

Henderson looked over at the sound, so Anya raised her hand.

“Meg and I want to present first!”

Their teacher sighed, elegantly.

“Very well, Forger and Montrose. Present with elegance.”

The two girls stood at the front of the classroom, Meg holding a script and a telegraph, Anya’s hands empty. Anya began to speak.

“We’re doing our report today on Spy Wars: Volume 16!”

A collective groan spread across the room.

“We shall do it in true Bondman fashion! Agent Meg’s got our mission report written out, and she’ll be relaying it to me in Morse Code. Agent Anya shall translate.”

The two made eye contact, and the rapid beeping began.

Anya spoke.

“A literary analysis of the themes present in the romantic relationship between Bondman and Princess Honey in Spy Wars: Volume 16. First off…”

Henry Henderson smiled, impressed at the girls’ proficiency at encoding and decoding. Not to mention their nerve to choose a comic book for their literary analysis. He had noticed Miss Montrose’s tendency to avoid speaking, so he was impressed at their creativity to find a way to present without using her voice.

“How truly elegant!”

Thursday, October 18th, 1956

Meg was sitting in the library, studying the note Anya had given her. In front of her, she had a book on Morse code opened, trying to learn the numbers and punctuation, because Anya hadn’t included that part.

She jumped up in shock as a large book was slammed next to her. Looking up, she saw the bright green eyes of Anya Forger looking back.

“For you.”

Meg looked at the cover and gasped.

Ostanian Sign Language Dictionary

“Morse is slow, so I asked Papa if there was anything faster since he’s a genius who knows everything. He recommended this. He’s teaching me, so you should keep this book and then you can talk faster!”

Anya speaks so highly of her father… He knows sign language?

Meg tapped on the table rapidly.

“thank you. i’ll do my best.”

“You figured out periods! I didn’t even teach you those!” 

Meg nodded.

I didn’t know if she’d know them, but it’s nice to know she does. Anya really is a master of language…

“is there a way to capitalize?”

Anya shook her head.

“Nope.”

She popped the p.

Damn. 

Friday, October 19th, 1956

Anya and Becky were walking to their next class when Anya stopped in her tracks. She sensed a thought, but it wasn’t even words. Just emotion. Fear. The words came later. The range made them hazy.

“Not again… is it just… like this… forever… Dammit!”

Dammit? Meggy says that in her head all the time!

Anya ran off in the direction of the thoughts.

“Anya, where are you going? Wait for me!”

Becky sprinted after her.

As Anya got closer, the thoughts became clearer.

“Can’t they just leave me alone?”

Anya’s telepathic range was further than her hearing, so the esper focused her mind on Meg’s, doing her best to listen through Meg’s ears as she ran.

A masculine voice.

“What are you going to do, yell for help?”

Meg’s thoughts were fiery but pained.

“Assholes. All they want is a reaction. It’s not like they’ll get one. Even if I could say something, I wouldn’t. Don’t give them what they want.”

A second voice chimed in.

“Just tell us to stop, and we will.”

Anya picked up on her classmate's increasing panic, and panicked in turn.

“Eh, whatever.”

Anya heard gasping for air.

“Don’t want to leave evidence, after all.”

Anya turned a corner and saw two older boys cornering Meg behind a wall.

Meanie bullies! Time to unleash my killer punch.

“Riiising HOOOPE!”

The two boys turned around at the voice, just in time for her fist to slam into the face of the closer one—bad guy #1. 

Anya felt his nose crunch under her hand, and watched as he flew backwards into his cohort—bad guy #2. There was another crunch as bad guy #1’s head broke bad guy #2’s nose. Both stared at her from the ground in horror, silent. 

Heh. Just like Mama taught me.

“Anya?! What was that?”

Oh. Becky followed me. She saw that.

“That was my killer punch.”

“But why???”

“Uh…”

“Anya just… saved me? She’s going to get a bolt…”

Anya ignored Meg’s thoughts.

“Meanies. Bullying Meg to try and get her to say something. So I stopped them.”

“Oh. That’s… terrible.”

Becky contemplated for several seconds.

“Wait, how did you know?”

“I heard it.”

“Weren’t you halfway across the school?”

Can’t reveal my telypath powers!

“…My ears listen gooder than yours do?”

“Then why don’t you use them, Miss Forger?”

Anya turned around to see Henderson looking at them, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Did I not tell you that resorting to physical violence is extremely inelegant?”

“But the meanies were picking on Meg! They can’t do that!”

“Yes, and they will be punished accordingly. Violence is never the solution, Forger. Fight bullies with words, not fists.”

I’m so gonna get a tostito for this…

It was worth it.

Anya smirked, and Henderson was shocked.

“Didn’t you punch the guy who was being a meanie to my Mama during our interview?”

Henderson made a sound.

Anya and Meg sat in Henderson’s office, tension filling the air.

“This is not the first time you have laid hands on a fellow student, Forger. However, given the circumstances…”

He sighed. 

"A single Tonitrus Bolt. ”

That'll be #7. Papa’s stomach after this…

"She really shouldn't be punished for this. Defending a friend in need is most elegant.”

Anya saw her chance and pressed.

“Did you see what they were doing? You can’t just grab someone by their neck, Meggy almost ran out of air!”

“Montrose, is this true?" 

Put on the spot, Meg looked extremely uncomfortable, so Anya kept talking.

"They were telling her they'd stop when she told them to, and–”

"Forger. Let her speak.”

He doesn't know! 

"Meggy can't talk! That's the reason they were doing it! They were taunting her!”

Meg nodded vigorously.

Henderson hummed.

“I see." 

“Punching down is truly inelegant. How many bolts can I get away with sticking those kids with…”

Does this mean I'm safe?

“I'll still have to give you a Tonitrus Bolt, Forger." 

His thoughts betrayed the reason.

“Just because I'm on thin ice with Donna already." 

Anya sighed.

"Okie.”

Meg’s thoughts panicked.

“But that's not right! She was just…”

Anya turned to her. 

"Really. It's okay. This just means Starlight Anya will set the record for the Imperial Scooter with the most tostitos. Mama says a tostito for doing the right thing is like a badge of honor!”

Henderson sighed.

“No wonder she racks them up as fast as her Stellas. Even so, the vast majority of them have been for noble causes…”

Meg signed, slow, rough, and clumsy.

“You still have two stellas to go." 

She contemplated.

“I think you should get a Stella for saving me.”

Henderson looked at his students in amazement.

"I’m tempted to agree with Miss Montrose, as saving a friend in need is most elegant…”

“No!”

Meg and Henderson looked at Anya after her outburst.

I want a stella… but. If I get 8 stellas, Papa gets to meet the Evil Superboss. If he meets the Evil Superboss, his mission will be a success. If his mission is a success… then he won’t be my Papa anymore! He’ll get put on another mission! My family will be doomed!

After Anya’s 6th stella had been earned several months ago, she had listened in on her father’s thoughts. About how this was another step towards the completion of his mission. Ever since then, Anya had stopped trying to get stellas. Intentionally stepped down to 3rd place on Classical exams. The mission was important, but to Anya? It’s not as important as her family.

“I shouldn’t get a star. It’s not right. Punching people is bad…”

“She’s willing to turn down a Stella because of her own honor? Now that is elegant. True elegance cannot be measured in Stellas.”

“Very well, Miss Forger. I may not agree, but I can honor your wishes.”

Anya gasped as she realized something significantly later than she likely should have.
“Half-glasses grandpa knows sign language?”

Henderson ignored the nickname.

“I do. I’m not entirely surprised that you do, Forger, although I find it interesting that Miss Montrose does as well.”

“I have taught my apprentice everything I know." 

Meg nodded, and Henderson smiled.

"The friendships of youth. How preciously elegant.”

Anya walked into her apartment, proudly sporting her 7th Tonitrus Bolt on her chest.

“Papa! Anya got another tostito!”

He collapsed on the spot.

“Papa?!”

Yor heard the sound of her husband hitting the floor and rushed in.

“Loid? Are you okay?”

He grumbled from the floor.

“No…”

“Anya got a tostito. Because meanies were picking on Meggy so I showed them my killer punch.”

Anya’s mother looked at her in confusion.

“Meggy?”

“Meggy Moon-toast. My new friend.”

Anya’s father got up.

“You mean Megan Montrose?”

Anya nodded, and his mind immediately went straight into work mode.

“Megan Montrose. Daughter of Martin Montrose, CEO of Montrose Oil. Close business partners of both the Desmonds and the Blackbells. The Forgers being on good terms with the Montrose family would be very valuable, their wealth gives them great sway over Ostania’s government. A seventh bolt is risky, but if it starts a lasting friendship between Anya and ‘Meggy’, it could very well prove useful.”

Anya sighed.

Everything’s part of the mission to Papa…

“It’s okay, Anya. I’m not mad. Friendships are more valuable than many think. You just… need to be careful.”

As Anya listened to her Papa’s thoughts, a distinctly different train of thought raced through his head. One that shook Anya to her core.

“This is valuable not just to WISE, but to my family. The more powerful friends Anya has, the less likely WISE will withdraw me from this family when Strix is over. Her best friend is a Blackbell. She befriended the prince of Septevia. The grandson of a prominent SSS member. She’s well regarded amongst her classmates, even if she isn’t close with many of them. A friendship struck with the Montroses is yet more leverage. Another source of intel that I can use even once Desmond has been dealt with. Evidence of my value to the higher-ups. WISE wouldn’t dare extract me somewhere else once Desmond is gone. Loid Forger’s position is far too valuable.”

Another thought followed. Sharp, distinct, and most of all, confident. Determined, and…happy?

“Loid Forger must remain alive, for my own sake.”

Anya looked at him in awe.

Papa didn’t say it was for the mission? Who is this and what’s he done to Papa? Did Papa finally get character development? Papa won’t abandon me when the mission is done?

She ran up to him and gave him a hug.

“Anya has the best Papa! Anya loves her Papa. Anya’s so lucky to have Papa as her Papa. He’ll be Anya’s Papa forever!”

His thoughts ran in a pair, side by side.

“Where did this come from?”

“Yes, Anya. I’ll do whatever I can to remain your Papa.”

Loid Forger didn’t notice the smile on his daughter’s face grow wider still.

Chapter Text

Monday, October 22nd, 1956

I need to be an Imperial Scooter as fast as possible. I’ve waited too long already. Since Papa’s going to stay my Papa after the mission, I don’t need to worry about him meeting with the Evil Superboss too early and ditching me. 

I can’t just ask Mister Elegant to give me the Stella he wanted to give me last week, he’d wonder why I changed my mind. That would be suspicious. A good spy doesn’t draw suspicion. So I need to get Stellas some other way. 

Papa is counting on me! World Peace is counting on me!

Anya Forger listened to her teacher, her mind repeating the same phrase.

Need to get a Stella. Need to get a Stella. Need to get a Stella.

“Coach Bobby is out sick today, so I will be leading your physical education today. Tennis. A most elegant sport testing reflexes and teamwork. Find a partner, and find another pair to match against.”

Tennis.

I’ve been practicing with Papa. With Mama. I can hit the balls now. I have a chance. It’s testing reflexes.

Anya thought back to a dodgeball game the previous year.

I dodged every throw. They thought about where they would throw the ball, so it was super easy. But there was no Stella for that. Competitive dodgeball isn’t a thing. 

But competitive tennis is. Papa had to do that for a mission to win a prize. I can do it too. Win a Stella. I just need to get onto the tennis team. I can read people’s minds! No one can tennis like I can. Just need to show them what Starlight Anya can do.

“Sy-on Boy.”

The boy in question jumped.

“What is it, you shrimp?”

“You’re my partner now.”

“Why would I want to partner with you?”

“Dammit, Damian! Why are you always mean to her? Just…”

Sy-on Boy can’t make up his mind. Time to use Papa’s Operation Honeytrap!

Anya flicked her hair. “You always do. You don’t say it, but Anya knows.”

“Uh—fine! Just… don’t hold me back.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“Heh.”

Anya was caught off guard as she sensed an intense gaze from a few meters away, with powerful thoughts accompanying it.

“That Forger brat! Thinks she can woo Desmond to mooch off his wealth? The commoner has nerve, I’ll give her that. I’ll need to put her in her place. Show her that the Desmonds could do so much better than her.”

Anya looked for the source of the thoughts, spotting hazel eyes glaring at her. A girl with dirty blonde hair in a bob cut. Anya recognized her, vaguely. Only because she was always trying to push Sy-on Boy away from Anya. Anya thought her name was Alice?

She looks like Becky if Becky was evil!

“Desmond. Forger. How would you like to play against Connell and I?”

I'll show Sy-on Boy I can tennis better than her! 

“Yes!”

Damian scoffed. 

"Alright, Paulette, we'll try. But you better not get in my way, Forger!”

Heh.

“Don't underestimate Anya’s tennising." 

"She's so cocky! I'll put her in her place and then Desmond will only have eyes for me!”

“Oh, I won't. I'll estimate you exactly as you are.”

The four got on opposite sides of a net, and Alice prepared to serve. 

“This clumsy commoner won't know what'll hit her. Just need to get the ball right over her left shoulder and Desmond will see that this brat is nothing but a hindrance to the future we could have together." 

Woah. She's almost as crazy about Sy-on as Crazy Lady is about Papa! This feels like that time Mama and Crazy Lady had to tennis each other for Papa, so I better do my best! 

Anya stepped to the left as Alice threw the ball up, and tossed the racquet into her left hand. Anya swung exactly where Alice aimed the ball, and struck it back at her. 

Alice was speechless as the ball zoomed past her. 

“Was it not just talk? The clumsy Anya Forger can actually hit a ball?”

"You got lucky." 

She started to serve again, but Anya saw her target in her mind, so she was prepared. 

The ball was going to fly on Anya’s right, near her foot. 

Papa said I get less leever-juge if I use the opposite hand, so…

Anya tossed the racquet to her right hand and struck the ball without much care for where it would go.

Alice struck the ball back, and Anya returned it with little force. Her reflexes may be supernaturally fast, but she was still a year younger than her classmates. Nonetheless, it made it past the net. Damian looked at his teammate in awe.

“The shrimps actually good at this!" 

Anya smirked at him, and missed Alice’s return.

"Keep your eyes forward, you dummy!”

Anya sheepishly looked at Damian. 

“Sorry, Sy-on Boy…”

"Drat, she's going to cry. Hate it when she does that!" 

“It's fine." 

Alice began to serve again, but with caution.

"Forger’s reactions are too good! If she hadn't gloated, I don't think I could've scored a point. I might need to target Desmond and hope she runs over him.”

Her serve was headed for Damian, who didn't move. 

It flew past his head.

He turned to his teammate.

“Why didn't you hit it, you dummy?!”

Anya crossed her arms and pouted.

Sy-on Boy is stupid.

“That was for you, not me! You told me not to get in your way, so I didn't. Make up your mind." 

His face turned red.

"You looked like you had it handled before! You need to–”

Their teacher appeared behind them.

"Desmond. Forger. You two need to work on your teamwork, or you will be easy pickings for your opponents." 

His use of the plural form did not escape the students, who looked at Connie.

Connie shrugged.

"Didn't seem like I needed to do much. Alice is good.”

Henderson sighed, then walked away.

“Inelegant.”

Alice raised her arm to serve once more, as Connie and Damian shared a glance. 

They both stepped off to the side of the court and just let the two girls who actually knew what they were doing play. Not that Anya actually knew what she was doing, all she could do was place her racquet where Alice envisioned the ball going and let it bounce off. Regardless, it seemed to work.

Anya hit the shot back, and Alice returned it. Anya once again hit it back, and Alice returned it with a vengeance. But before she could even hit it, Anya already had her racquet where it needed to be. The ball flew back and forth dozens of times, with several surrounding groups having stopped to watch the rally.

Alice’s hits were aggressive, strong, and fast. Anya struggled to hit them—merely letting the ball bounce off her racquet—but she never failed. She was wherever the ball was before it got there, as if she were seconds in the future.

Alice got increasingly frustrated as her attempts to humiliate her rival failed, but Anya also got increasingly fatigued as she ran from place to place.

After several minutes of passing the ball back and forth, Anya tripped and fell flat on her face as the ball flew over her.

Starlight Anya was defeated!

As Anya got back up, she saw Alice shooting her a glare, while panting. 

“You're far—gasp—too defensive, Forger. It's like you weren't even—gasp—trying to score a point, just stop me from doing it. Eventually you'd crack.”

Her thoughts betrayed her. 

“I have to acknowledge a worthy adversary. She's far better than I expected. Still, no match for me.”

Anya opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off.

“That was a very strong defense, Miss Forger.”

She looked behind her and saw Mr. Green, the custos. 

“Hello, Eyepatch Man.”

He chuckled.

“That I am. Although, I'm also the coach of the tennis team here at Eden.”

Anya’s eyes grew wide as he lowered his voice.

"Tryouts are Wednesday, after school. Just sayin’." 

Stage 1 of Operation Tennising complete. Let stage 2 begin.

Tuesday, October 23rd, 1956

“Mama!!!! Papa!!!! We need to go to the park now! Tennis tryouts are tomorrow and I need to get as goodest as I can for them!”

Anya’s father looked up from his newspaper, perplexed.

“Why’s she so motivated all of a sudden? I know Anya likes tennis, but she’s never expressed this much interest.”

Papa’s dumb.

“I need to get on the team so I can get lots of stella stars!”

“I’m hallucinating. Anya, caring about stellas? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that she’s been actively avoiding getting them!”

“You… want stellas?”

Anya nodded vigorously.

“Gotta become an Imperial Scooter before Sy-on Boy, but he’s a star ahead of me! I could be the youngest Imperial Scooter ever!”

“I don’t know where this came from, but I need to make the most of it.”

Loid stood up sharply.

“Then let's go! Do you want to come with us, Yor?”

The woman already had a bag of racquets and balls in hand.

“Let’s kill them all!”

Mama’s crazy.

Standing on one side of a makeshift court was Loid.

On the other, Anya. Yor stood off to the side, to minimize destroyed balls.

Loid prepared to serve.

“I need to go easy on Anya. It’s critical that she experiences success, and I cannot allow my own skill to prevent that.”

Yor leaned over to her daughter.

“Okay, Anya. Your father is good, but he’s kind of slow. Hit it away from wherever he is, and he might not get there in time. Okay?”

Anya nodded.

“Papa doesn’t stand a chance against the home run champ.”

He served.

Anya was ready to swing before he even struck the ball. With one strike, she sent the ball flying—off to the side, where it hit Yor.

“I’m sorry, Mama!”

Her mother chuckled, unhurt.

“It’s okay, Anya. You were fast, just need to work on your aim. Look at Loid! Even he was surprised by how you hit the ball!”

Anya looked at her father, who looked at her, his eyes pinpricks of shock.

“Anya hit it effortlessly! How did that happen? Has she been practicing at school? Maybe I don’t need to go easy on her after all!”

“Alright, then let's work on your aim. Be mindful of the angle you hold the racquet in your hand, if it isn’t flat, then the ball will go off to the side.”

The sun had long set, and yet the family remained in the rectangle of dirt, mother watching as father and daughter sent a ball flying back and forth with rapidly increasing speed and intensity.

Whack whack whack whack whack whack

“Give up, Papa! Starlight Anya is faster than you!”

Whack whack whack

“Loidman will never concede!”

Whack whack whack whack whack whack whack whack

Anya grimaced, pink brow furrowed in concentration.

Papa’s too good. Need to bring out my secret weapon.

Anya hit the ball back, then pointed to her mother. “Papa! Mama wants to kiss you!”

A scream from Yor. A gasp from Loid. Anya grinned at the distraction, distracted herself;

Twilight wasn’t the greatest spy for nothing, able to strike the ball back in spite of his conflicted emotions.

It sailed past Anya.

“Fuck!”

For all her attempts to distract him, it was that which put her father down for the count.

“Where did you learn that…”

Unkie’s thoughts.

“Becky.”

Loid collapsed onto his hands and knees.

“The so-called elite of Ostania taught my 7 year old to swear…”

Wednesday, October 24th, 1956

Alice Paulette anxiously drummed her pencil on the desk.

Five minutes until school is out…

I need to crush everyone in the tryouts! Mom’s expecting it. She has 12 Olympic medals, for crying out loud. I need to get on Eden’s tennis team, or I’ll be a disgrace to her and my fam–

Alice was knocked out of her thoughts when she was hit on the head by a ball of paper.

What the–

Forger was smirking at her when she looked up.

That brat. What’s she saying?

Alice unraveled the paper, and tried to decipher the handwriting.

You got this, Allie!

Kill ‘em all, fellow Cecile girl whose name starts with A!

???

When she looked up, the bell had rung and Forger was gone.

When she arrived at the tennis courts, Alice frowned.

Forger’s here? Really?

The girl in question was standing near a group of girls of assorted ages, tossing a tennis ball up and down.

“Hmph. Forger. You’re really going to try out?”

She nodded.

“Is Anya not a worthy opponent for someone as talented as yourself?”

Is she really trying to flatter me right now?

Alice began to respond but she was interrupted by Mr. Green.

“Alright! Great to see such a turnout! Got everyone from some seniors all the way down to second years!”

He looked at Alice and Anya, as did everyone else.

Alice didn’t need mind reading to know that their age was surprising to the other prospective teammates.

Forger and I are probably the youngest here by several years… no matter. Age doesn’t matter, skill does. As much as I loathe to admit it, she’s probably better than most of them. Am I really going to have to put up with that suck-up on the tennis team?

Ok, now why’s she smirking at me?

Mr. Green continued.

“Y’all got racquets? Alright! Let’s make a racquet!”

He chuckled at his own pun.

“Get in a pair with someone else, one of you toss the ball to the other, and watch ‘em hit it back!”

Forger looked at Alice expectantly.

Fine. She has no idea what’s coming for her, she’s not ready for the spin.

“Let’s do this.”

What the heck?

She didn’t miss a shot!

Forger shot her another one of her infuriating smirks.

“My turn!”

I didn’t miss a shot!

Alice replicated Forger’s signature smirk.

The 6–star 7–bolt student looked ready to punch a wall, but instead tossed a tennis ball up and hit it towards Alice.

She hit it right back.

“Oh, you’re so on.”

Forger dove left and slammed the ball to Alice, who hit it back, who found it caught by Mr. Green

“Woah, woah, woah, girls! You’re getting ahead of the game, slow down! I can tell you two are real good at this, but take it easy for now. Show off all you want tomorrow.”

Forger looked at him, perplexed. Head tilted, eyebrow raised.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“Varsity practice, of course!”

Wait, already? We’re skipping JV? 

Alice didn’t even notice that she had just referred to herself and Forger as “we” in her own head.

Thursday, October 25th, 1956

Alice was not ready for tennis practice today. Anya Forger, the bane of her existence, was on the team with her. They were the only kids their grade, so they were probably going to get paired together, constantly.

Why the hell is Forger so good?

When she arrived at the courts, her worst fears were confirmed. 

“Alright, everyone! I know this is a little bit strange, but bear with me. During the JV tryouts yesterday I spotted some real good talent, so they’ll actually be joining us in varsity this year, even though they weren’t on JV last year. Meet your new teammates, Paulette and Forger!”

Great. Now we’re linked together in peoples’ heads even more.

Alice waved with exasperation, while Forger waved with far too much energy.

Mr. Green chuckled.

“You two will have a lot to catch up on, because our first meet is tomorrow. Still, we’re expected to have 4 doubles and 3 singles, and we’d otherwise be a pair short, so you’ll have to play anyways. No pressure though, you don’t have to do too great, I get it’s short notice.”

Alice sighed.

“Forger and I as a pair?”

Mr. Green nodded.

“You two perfectly compliment each other! She’s real good on defense, and you’re real good on offense. Just try to get along, wouldya?”

But she’s… ugh. Always chasing after Desmond, as if she has a chance. Her father is just a doctor, and her mother does… paperwork? If I remember right? She’s a commoner! What is she even doing at Eden? It’s not like she’s smart or anything. She doesn’t belong here.

But she’s damn good at tennis…

“Yeah, sure.”

“That sounds great! Now, care to introduce yourselves?”

“Anya’s Anya!”

“Alice Paulette. Forger and I are 2nd years in Cecile.”

A gasp. It came from a girl about their age.

“We’re not alone anymore! I’m Grace Fein, and this is my doubles partner Jessica Clark! We’re 2nd years too! Specter!”

The girl standing next to her nodded.

“Sup.”

There’s already 2nd years on the varsity team?

“Can’t believe it, I’m surrounded by children.”

The blonde girl who said that smiled—although she was hardly old herself.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as you guys are good. I’m Vivian Vassell, 5th year, Rose Hall. I’m the vice captain!”

A 5th year, vice captain?

“Gina Gardner. 9th year. Cline Hall. Captain.”

A surprisingly short girl. She had pale green hair and wide black eyes.

The rest of the team introduced themselves, and Alice found herself surprised at the age variety.

Not including her and Forger, the doubles partners consisted of the pair of 2nd years, a pair of 7th and 8th year students, as well as Gardner and her 13th year partner. The singles players were a 12th year, a 10th year, and Vassell.

Alice looked at Forger and saw her staring at Gina, an indiscernible expression in her eyes.

Was it shock? Surprise? Fear? She couldn’t tell.

“You good, Forger?”

The pinkette jumped.

“Yep! I’m doing great! Never better! Let’s kill em all tomorrow!”

Ohhhhkay!

According to Gardner, the matchups at the meet were going to be based on age, so she paired Alice and Forger with the other 2nd years to play against.

“Paulette! You serve!”

Alice obliged to Fein’s request, with a powerful serve at Clark, which was quickly returned towards Forger, who knocked it at Fein without even looking.

The ball flew off the court as all three girls looked at Forger in silence.

“What? Did Anya do something?”

What just happened?

“Forger, you were looking at me. Do you have eyes on the back of your head or something?”

The girl looked like a deer in headlights.

“Anya has very good hearing. And very good multi-tasking-ness. I don’t need to look at you to hit a ball.”

She crossed her arms in triumph.

Clark let out a low whistle.

“Paulette goes without saying of course, Alicia Paulette’s a Grand Slam legend, but… I can see why Green wants you on the team, Forger.”

She picked up the ball and served it towards Forger, who sent it back to Clark, who sent it to Alice, but as she prepared to hit it back, she found Forger running in front of her and knocking it towards Fein, who missed the return.

Alice was pissed.

“What the heck, Forger?”

She flushed pink.

“It looked like you weren’t going to hit it in time. Anya’s sorry.”

I hate that she’s not wrong…

“It’s fine. Just… if you’re going to run all over the place, we need to make sure we don’t run into each other.”

Forger nodded.

“Gotcha.”

She tossed the ball up and swung, but missed.

“Uh. Woops.”

Alice put her hand on Forger’s shoulder.

“It’s alright. You get two chances for each serve before you lose the point.”

Wait, why am I comforting her? Isn’t she my rival?

Forger looked determined, but paused her hand mid-throw.

“Allie? Why are you always looking at me angerily?”

Alice looked at her like she’d grown horns.

I thought I was being more subtle.

“What do you mean?”

“You look at me like you wanna murderate me. Why? What did Anya do?”

Forger served the ball as she spoke.

Talk in the third person like a baby.

“You need to realize that you’ll never have Damian.”

“Sy-on Boy? What does he have to do with this?”

She returned Fein’s shot with just a glance.

“You’re trying to get him for yourself!”

Forger returned another hit as Alice spoke.

“Cozying up to him to get his family’s money and power!”

Forger turned to Alice, putting her back to her opponents.

“But Becky already buys me anything I ask her to!”

The ball flew between Forger’s legs and she hit it back as she stepped sideways while making eye contact with Alice.

“Why would I want Sy-on Boy?”

She really doesn’t care?

“We’re the elite of Ostania. Connections are everything! Being a partner of a Desmond is a really big deal!”

Forger turned back to the court and returned a shot before speaking.

“You’re elite. I’m not. I just wanna have friends.”

Another return.

“Sy-on Boy pretends to be a jerkface–”

She slammed her racquet into the ball as it flew over her head.

“–because he doesn’t know how to be nice.”

The sound of a tennis ball effortlessly hitting a racquet.

“None of the Desmonds do.”

A dive right to strike the ball towards Clark.

“But I can tell that he’s sad on the inside.”

Forger turned around, frustrated tears in her eyes.

“He just wants a friend that’s his friend because of who he is!”

She hit Clark’s return without looking.

“Not because of his name.”

Another blind return.

“Even his henchlings started out as his friends because of his Papa.”

Forger appeared to be getting more and more angry, striking the ball with all her might even though it was behind her.

“He needs a friend who’s not using him to get close to his Papa!”

She spun around and slammed the ball between Fein’s legs, scoring a point.

Alice looked at her stunned—both at Forger’s honesty, and because oh my God, just how good is this girl?

“Well, Forger? You may say you just want to be his friend, but it’s clear to anyone with eyes that he sees more than that.”

Forger tilted her head in confusion.

“What do you mean, Allie?”

My name’s Alice…

“I mean that as long as you stay anywhere near Desmond, no girl will have a shot with him. He’s transfixed.”

Forger’s eyes grew wide.

“Girls want to shoot him?!”

“No! They want to marry him! To join his family!”

Her face contorted into disgust.

“Why would they want that? His family’s weird!”

She really has no idea what Desmond thinks of her…

This girl’s clueless. She doesn’t know anything about elite society. It’s actually rather refreshing. Everyone at Eden is fighting over power and connections, and this girl doesn’t care. She might be a bit cocky, but it’s clearly earned. She’s nothing short of a defense god.

“Alright. Let’s forget about Desmond. I’m sorry for being…”

“A bitch?”

The girls on the other side of the court gasped.

“I wasn’t going to say that, Forger.”

“Anya.”

Huh?

“My name’s Anya.”

Right. She’s clueless about high society, so of course she prefers her first name over her last.

“Well then, Anya? Can we instead talk about how you just hit like a hundred shots without looking?”

Friday, October 26th, 1956

Fontaine Academy.

Eden College’s archrival.

Their opponent at today’s tennis meet.

Anya cracked her knuckles as she sat down next to Alice at the lunch table.

“You ready to kill em all, Allie?”

Alice sighed.

“We’re not killing them all, just our doubles opponents. The way it works is, there’s going to be 7 matches. 3 singles, 4 doubles. Whichever school wins more matches wins. We’re the fourth double, so we just need to do the best we can against Fontaine’s worst pair.”

She turned to Anya.

“I think we got a pretty good shot. Remember the plan?”

Anya nodded.

“You’ll do your fancy spin stuff to do cool shots that score points, I stay behind you and make sure they don’t get a point when you miss.”

“Hey! What do you mean, when?”

“You take forever to wind up your cool shots. They work real well but you keep missing them! So Starlight Anya will keep you safe!”

Becky sat down next to the two with her tray, shooting Alice a mean glare.

“She’s right.”

Alice stared at the brunette, unimpressed.

“Didn’t ask.”

Anya frowned.

“You two need to get along betterer. Less fighting. More conspiring. Fontaine doesn’t stand a chance against Starlight Anya and… uh…”

Alice raised an eyebrow as Anya thought harder.

“Moonlight Allie?”

“That really doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

Anya couldn’t help but agree with Alice’s thoughts.

Eleven girls sat on a bench at the tennis courts at Fontaine Academy, dejected.

The meet had started off decently well.

Although Fontaine’s best pair had proved a tough match, Eden had put their faith in their captain, and Gina delivered with a nail-bitingly close match. Eden won the first set. Fontaine, the second and third. Eden, the fourth. All 4 sets had required tiebreakers, finishing with scores of 7 to 6 or vice versa. The fifth set was no different: Eden 6, Fontaine 6. The tie-breaker game? 

Love-fifteen. Love-Thirty. Fifteen-Thirty. Thirty-Thirty. Forty-Thirty. Deuce. Ad-in. Deuce. Ad-out. Deuce. Ad-in. Deuce. Ad-in. Deuce. Ad-in. Deuce. Ad-in. Deuce. Ad-out. Deuce. Ad-out. Deuce. Ad-in. Deuce. Ad-out. Deuce. Ad-out. Deuce. Ad-out. Deuce. Ad-out. Deuce. Ad-out. Deuce. Ad-out. Deuce. Ad-in. 

Game, set, and match. Eden won.

Anya watched in fear and awe. She’d been expecting Gina Gardner to do well, but she hadn’t expected Fontaine’s resistance to be as strong as it was. She had recognized the girl the moment she set eyes on her; having seen her in her mother’s memories.

She’s Mama’s assassin friend! Gympie, I think! Mama’s crazy strong, so Gympie must be too! So if it was this close… just how good is the other team?

Very good, it turned out.

Unfortunately for Eden, the first singles match did not go to plan. A narrow loss, starting off with two sets won 6-4, before losing the next three 4-6.

Doubly unfortunately, the next doubles match went south just as fast. 6-2, 6-4, 3-6, 7-6.

Triply unfortunately, the second singles was another close call that was ultimately won by Fontaine. 6-0, 0-6, 0-6, 6-0, 7-6.

Current score: Fontaine 3, Eden 1.

Thus, the Eden College tennis team did not have their hopes up. 

Elegance and Tradition. 

That was their motto. With the hopes of fostering continued growth for many years to come, Eden had a tendency to spread their team members across a wide age range. This placed the burden of winning upon the shoulders of the older members, to give the younger ones room to grow. However, as they played from strongest to weakest, the older team members had just lost 3 critical matches. In order for Eden to win the meet, the three remaining matches had to be won. 

Therein lies the issue. 

Fontaine Academy’s tennis team is entirely upperclassmen, not following Eden’s strategy of age variety. The youngest among them are 10th years. 

10th years, taking the field against Jessica Clark and Grace Fein, two 2nd year students.

Hope was in short supply as Anya watched, and yet, by some miracle…

7-6. 6-7. 7-6. 6-7. 7-6.

The Specter pair had won by the skin of their teeth, just as their captain had—only with even more deuces.

Fontaine 3, Eden 2.

Vivian took the field for the final singles match. A 5th year, made vice captain for her leadership abilities, not her skill. Against a 13th year. There was only one possible outcome.

Both players moved with dizzying speed that hurt Anya’s neck as she moved her gaze back and forth and back and forth and back and forth to track the ball. And yet…

6-3, Eden.

4-6, Fontaine.

7-6, Eden.

1-6, Fontaine.

6-3, Eden.

All eyes turned to Anya and Alice.

Oh. It’s on us.

Alice stood up.

“You ready?”

If we can win this match, Eden wins! 

Anya nodded, determination burning in her emerald eyes.

Alice’s thoughts were a rapid mess as the esper tuned in.

“This whole meet has been far too close. If my count is right, we’ve won 150 matches. They’ve won 155. It doesn’t really matter for the meet, but if we want to stand out as a school? We need to do better! I want to play in the east-west sports exhibition! Eden needs to prove themselves as the best tennis players in Ostania. We need to crush these fools.”

Allie’s intense!

The two walked onto the court, as two 12th years from Fontaine did as well.

“Final match of the meet! Alice Paulette and Anya Forger of Eden College, versus Liana Lewis and Patricia Parkins of Fontaine Academy!”

Liana looked at her opponents as if it was a joke.

“Are they really making us beat up kindergarteners?”

Anya ignored the thoughts, looking to the bleachers.

Her Mama was cheering her on, voice most likely hoarse. Even Scruffy and Unkie were there, the former looking far too proud of his “fake” niece, the latter looking as if he would rather be anywhere else, but wanted to support his sister. Anya’s Papa was smiling gently. 

I’ll crush them for you, Papa, and for world peace!

Anya saw Becky, Connie, and Meg sitting near three boys, two of whom looked all too unhappy to be there, and yet were there anyway—because their bossman wanted to be there, for reasons that eluded even his own understanding.

Anya waved, as Alice prepared to serve. 

The ball curved past their opponents with ease. As did the next serve. And the one after that. And the last one.

“Game, Eden!”

The Fontaine girls stared in disbelief, before Liana began to serve.

“Let’s see how the brunette likes the spin herself.”

Anya ran behind Alice, as the tennis ball spun straight past the girl’s racquet and into Anya’s, where it bounced over the net and off the court.

“Love-Fifteen!”

Anya shot a smirk, which Alice replicated.

The next two serves were no different, both attempting to spin past both girls, each time getting intercepted by Anya. The third extended into a short rally, but it was impossible to get the ball past her.

“Game, Eden!”

Anya’s turn to serve.

I can’t afford to miss. Go light. Allie can give it power once it comes back.

Anya’s serve made it over the net, but was returned to her side.

She flung it straight back.

It came back to her.

Once again, the tiny telepath glued herself to the ball.

Whack, whack, whack, whack, whack.

In an attempt to get the ball past Anya, an aim for Alice was made, which was met by the Paulette slamming the ball past both Fontainians.

“Fifteen-Love!”

Another serve from Anya, devolving into a rally, before Alice stepped up and scored.

“Thirty-Love!”

“Fourty-Love!”

“Game, Eden!”

Fontaine was back on the serve. 

“That little pinky is always blocking us! Good thing she’s what, 3 feet? She won’t be able to reach this.”

Anya yelled out as their opponent raised her arm to serve.

“Code Green!”

Alice looked back in shock, then dropped to a squat.

Before she could comprehend what was happening, Patricia had hit the ball in a high arc over Anya’s head.

Alice stood up straight with her teammate upon her shoulders, and Anya slammed the ball towards the opposite side of the court with reckless abandon. Patricia didn’t even know what she saw as the ball flew between her legs.

“Love-Fifteen? Was that even legal?”

“It is! I checked!”

Anya dropped off Alice’s shoulders as the referee started consulting the rules.

“Anya, how did you know that would work?”

Telepathy.

“Her eyes were aiming too high. Easy to tell what would happen.”

“Holy cow.”

Anya shot her trademark smirk.

Jessica and Grace were smiling from the bench, having helped the girls practice that move the previous day.

Becky’s jaw was hanging as she sat in the bleachers.

Unkie Yuri was yelling. “That’s my niece! My niece! She did that! Isn’t she the best?!”

“Love-Fifteen. No rule states that you cannot…”

The referee sighed, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“Climb on your teammate’s shoulders.”

The rest of the set passed in a similar fashion. Love-Thirty, Love-Forty. Game, Eden. Fifteen-Love, Thirty-Love, Forty-Love. Game, Eden. Love-Fifteen, Love-Thirty, Love-Forty. Game, Eden. 

One set down, 2 to go, and Fontaine hadn’t scored a single point against them.

Anya soaked in the cheers, and steadied her stance as Liana tossed the ball into the air.

“Pinky’s too far ahead, let it spin past her. Brunette relies too much on her defense.”

Anya dove backwards into a roll and struck the ball right in front of Alice’s face.

“What the heck, Anya! Do you not know personal space?”

Anya looked at her teammate.

“Sorry!”

She swung behind her and wordlessly returned the ball to the Fontainian’s court.
“I was thinking too fast!”

Whack.

“Eyes on the game, idiot!”

“Sorry!”

Anya spun around with her racquet in her hand and delivered a powerful backhand strike which scored a point.

“Love-Fifteen!”

“If you spent half as much time apologizing as you did practicing your serves, we could be done by now!”

Alice’s rant was interrupted by a serve, although she didn’t stop yelling, and Anya didn’t stop listening, wordlessly and blindly starting a rally as she held the racquet over her head.

“Love-Thirty!”

Anya turned around in surprise, not even realizing she’d scored a point.

“Oops. I spaced out.”

Her opponents looked at her in horror.

“Game, Eden!”

Anya breathed heavily.

Second set? 6-0, Eden. 

Third set? 5-0, at the moment.

Total points scored? 68 from Eden, not a one from Fontaine.

The roar of the crowd had fallen away from Anya’s consciousness. Nothing was left but the four people on the court.

They aren’t going to win. They’d need to win 7 games in a row, then two whole sets. But at this point, it’s about the principle. Can’t let them earn a single point. Starlight Anya and Thunderbolt Allie are not to be messed with!

Alice served. Liana struck back.

Anya threw the racquet to her left hand and struck, the surprise catching the girls off guard.

“Fifteen-Love!”

“Heh.”

Alice prepared to serve once more, as Anya whispered in her ear.

“Code Yellow.”

Alice nodded, threw the ball up, then jumped into the air and swung as hard as she could.

She missed, swinging below the ball, before spinning 360 degrees and hitting the ball the next spin around.

“Thirty-Love!”

“Are they just showing off at this point?”

“Heh.”

Alice tossed the ball for the game’s third serve, before barely bunting it over the net.

“Forty-Love!”

“Ready to finish it?”

Alice nodded.

A serve, a return, and Anya gripped the strings of her racquet, swinging the handle to hit the ball back in an utterly unpredictable fashion.

“Game, Set, and Match! Eden wins!”

Alice and Anya gave each other a strong high five and hugged.

“Anya Forger, 2nd year of Cecile Hall. Alice Paulette, 2nd year of Cecile Hall. I award you one Stella each for your outstanding performance at the recent tennis meet at Fontaine Academy.”

Heh. 7 Stars down, 1 to go.