By the time I limped back to my dorm, every part of me that Mamoru had touched had started developing its own opinion about what had happened. My left hand throbbed, and both forearms ached. My right leg hurt every time I put weight on it. And the swelling beneath my eye had gotten large enough that I could see the edge of it if I looked down. I wanted to lie down. Instead, I grabbed a towel and a fresh uniform before stepping into the bathroom. Getting into the tub hurt almost as much as the sparring. Lifting my injured leg over the side sent a sharp pain through my shin, and lowering myself into the water was somehow worse. I had to grip the edge with both hands and ease myself down a little at a time. Two brass pumps extended from the wall beside the tub. One had been engraved with a curling wave. The other bore the image of a single drop of water. I had noticed them before but hadn't really had time to experiment with them. Now I did. I worked the pump marked with the wave. Water rushed into the tub, and immediately the smell of salt came along with it. I dipped my fingers into it and tasted the smallest drop. Seawater. Of course an academy overlooking the ocean had somehow decided pumping the sea directly into its bathrooms was necessary. I stopped the flow and tried the second pump. Clear water poured from its spout, this time it wasn't salty Apparently the academy offered a choice. That seemed excessive, but I wasn't going to complain. A smaller handle controlled the temperature. After a few attempts, I managed to fill the tub with water that was wonderfully warm. Just warm enough that my muscles started relaxing almost immediately. I sank deeper. The salt water stung a few scrapes I hadn't noticed before, but after a while the tightness in my leg began to loosen. I was definitely still injured, but it felt like I could forget that sitting in this tub. Maybe that was why they pumped seawater into the bathrooms. Or rich magic-school kids just liked bathing in the ocean. Either way, I wasn't complaining. Getting back out however reminded me that I was in fact, still injured. Lifting my right leg over the side was horrible. By the time I managed it, dried myself, and limped over to the mirror, I felt like I got my ass beat again. I looked rough. A dark bruise had spread beneath my eye. The skin around it was swollen enough that one side of my face looked heavier than the other. My left hand had swollen too. I could still move my fingers though, closing them into a fist, not so much. For a moment, I seriously considered climbing directly into bed and sleeping until morning. Then my stomach started growling in objection. "Damn you really going to make me get up?" It just growled louder. "With this leg?" Grumble grumble. I painfully forced myself away from the bed and looked through the clothes Mr. Webster had given me. I had two academy uniforms. One was dirty. The other was clean. Then there were the clothes I'd been wearing when I woke up beneath the tree. I pulled out the old shirt. The fabric felt softer than the academy uniform. It felt worn, but in the best way possible if that makes any sense. The lote-tree emblem was still sewn into the chest, but when I looked closely, it wasn't quite the same as the academy's. The pattern of the branches curved differently, and the stitching seemed uneven in places. It felt handmade, like it was just a little bit off in places but somehow that made it more valuable. I considered wearing it. Then I smelled it. Nope. Definitely needed to be washed. The rest of the wardrobe wasn't much more helpful. Loungewear, pajamas, swimming trunks... I picked up the trunks and stared at them. My mind immediately returned to the swimming pool. ...and the feeling of whacking someone's skull with the butt of a crossbow. But underwater. I feel like that makes it less bad somehow, I couldn't really get full force. I put the trucks back. However long I'd been here, it had already been way too eventful. My thoughts drifted toward Lynne. She had left earlier to speak with someone, someone Massino. I wondered if she was okay. I put on my last clean academy uniform and decided I'd figure out where people washed their clothes later. Worst case, I could probably wash them in the tub. The actual door to my room was on the far side. The half wall beside my bed opened toward the corridor. Climbing over it with one injured leg was objectively a terrible idea. Mentally, it still felt easier than walking around to the door. So I sat on the half wall and swung my good leg over. Then came the bad one. I immediately regretted every decision that had brought me here. I slowly dragged it across the top and lowered myself onto the other side. Pain shot through my leg when my foot touched the ground. I nearly fell head first into the opposite wall. That was stupid. I limped toward the courtyard. The sun had only recently disappeared behind the academy walls. The sky above the open courtyard was filled with deep purples and violets. Strings of fairy lights hung between the surrounding gates and balconies, illuminating the stone paths beneath them with a gentle glow. After the noise and chaos of the martial hall, the courtyard looked almost unreal. Students passed beneath the lights in small groups, talking and laughing as they moved between food stalls. I tried to walk normally. Walking normally hurt significantly worse than limping. Still, I didn't want everyone staring at me. Unfortunately, the black eye had already taken care of that. Several people looked directly at my face. I pretended not to notice. I started looking around for whichever vendors were still serving actual food. Then I saw Lynne. She stood a short distance away with one hand clutching the front of her shirt above her chest. Her eyes moved frantically around the courtyard. At first, I thought something else had happened. Like she had dropped something very important and was desperately trying to find it. “Lynne!” I waved my good hand. She turned. The relief on her face was immediate. Then she actually looked at me. The relief disappeared beneath something that looked almost like she was horrified. She hurried toward me much faster than I could have possibly limped toward her. “Xu! Oh my God. What happened to you?” I grinned. “Got a little beat up.” “A little?” She moved underneath my arm before I could protest and pulled it across her shoulders, supporting some of my weight. “I can walk.” “You can barely stand.” “I was standing all right before you got here.” “You were limping.” “I prefer walking with swagger.” She ignored me and guided me toward a nearby bench. Once I sat down, she stayed in front of me for several seconds, looking over my face, my swollen hand, and my leg. Then she put one hand against her chest again. “Something weird happened earlier.” “With Mrs. Massino?” She shook her head. “No. With me, I think.” “What happened?” Lynne sat beside me. “Everything suddenly felt wrong.” Her voice became quieter. “It got hard to breathe. My chest hurt like someone was pounding it like a drum. And I kept getting this feeling that something happened to you.” I tilted my head. “How would you know something happened to me?” “I don't know.” She pressed her hand against her chest. “It felt like…” She stopped for a moment. “Like when you're going down stairs in the dark and you think there's another step, but there isn't.” Her fingers tightened against her shirt. “Except it just kept happening. Like I missed the step and kept falling and never reached the ground.” “Do you still feel like that?” She shook her head. “Not as much. It started getting better after I came back.” We sat quietly for a moment. Then she looked at me again. “Did you eat?” “Nah. That's what I was looking for.” “What do you want?” I shrugged. “I know there's a place here with a really good pistachio drink.” “You need actual food.” “Pistachios are food.” “Stay here.” She stood. “Wait, Lynne.” She turned. “Hold on.” I remembered they use nametags to pay for things here, so I reached for mine. But she had already started walking away. I wasn't sure whether she hadn't heard me or had purposefully ignored me. Why was she being so nice to me? I'd known her for what? A couple days? She was still a stranger to me, and I didn't really know much about her really. I mean I did learn about her dead father, eat with her family, wear her brothers clothes and sleep at her house and everything... But still, I didn't actually really know much about her. Despite that, when she was nearby, it felt like I had permission to relax. While I waited, my mind wandered back to the fight. Particularly the moment I tried to clinch Mamoru and immediately ended up on the ground. There had to have been something else I could've done. Really, my first mistake had probably been punching him. But how was I supposed to beat someone if hitting him was a mistake? I replayed the fight again. I punched his ribs, fucked up my hand. Kicked his leg and it was fine, he started breathing weird, kicked him again, and my legs all messed up now. He did something, I just didn't know what it was. Lynne returned carrying far more than I expected. A bowl of soup filled with vegetables and pieces of beef with a side of Bread and butter. On her other hand she had a cloth bag and... That's my pistachio drink! “Was this the drink you meant?” My eyes lit up. “Yes. Yes, that's it.” She sat everything between us. “I wanted you to use my nametag.” “It’s okay. No worries.” She handed me the cloth bag. It was cold. “What’s this?” “Ice. Put it on your face.” I obeyed and pressed it against the bruise beneath my eye while taking a sip of the pistachio drink with my other hand. Lynne watched me for a moment. “You’re holding it wrong.” I lowered the bag. “What?” She took it from my hand and pressed it gently against the swelling herself. The ice wasn't any colder than it had been when I was holding it. But the aching behind my eye softened almost immediately. The pressure inside my skull seemed to pull away from her fingers. When she shifted the cloth, the pain followed. When she lifted it slightly, the ache began returning. I looked at the ice. Then at her hand. “See?” she said. “You were holding it wrong.” “I didn't know there was a wrong way to hold ice against your face.” She placed it back into my hand and adjusted my wrist. “Keep it there.” Then she took the spoon, dipped it into the soup, and brought it toward my mouth. I smiled. “My hands still work. I can feed myself.” She looked at my left hand. It was visibly swollen now. “I’m sure you can. Focus on holding the ice correctly.” I accepted the spoonful. She watched until I swallowed. “So,” I said, “how was your day besides feeling like you missed a step forever?” She gave a small laugh. “It was, strange, actually.” “What happened?” “I went to see Vincent's mother.” Her expression changed. “I thought she was going to be angry with me.” “Was she?” “No.” Lynne looked toward the soup. “She mostly asked me about Vincent.” “What did you tell her?” “The truth, I suppose.” Her fingers tightened around the spoon. “I told her he looked really sad when I found him. That I went to talk to him, and then he led me to the worksite.” She paused. “And then he showed me a rope he wanted cut, claiming it was for class.” Her voice disappeared. I gently took the spoon from her hand. “She thanked me,” Lynne said. “For talking to Vincent?” She shook her head. “For cutting the rope.” "I'm sorry what?" I almost laughed in disbelief but stopped myself. “She said her husband built the syndicate. After he died, his brother took everything away from her.” Lynne looked down. “And now that he's gone, nothing is standing in her way of taking control again.” “That was not how I thought that story would go.” “Me neither.” “She seemed happy about it?” Lynne nodded. “She said Vincent had finally given everything back to her.” I wasn't quite sure what to say to that. “He literally murdered her husband and her son.” Lynne's expression tightened. “Maybe he deserved what happened.” I continued “That doesn't mean I chose to do it.” She looked down at her hands. For a moment, neither of us spoke. I looked for something to get her away from her guilt-prone mind. I looked at the soup, then back at her. “So what did she feed you?” Lynne blinked. The sudden change in subject seemed to catch her off guard. “Tomatoes and mozzarella with balsamic vinegar.” “…That's it?” “It was a lot of tomatoes and mozzarella.” I try to offer her some beef from the soup. She moves her head out of the and immediately brings her hand up to stop my spoon. “Did she offer you anything else?" She gave me a slightly nervous smile. "Just take a bite." I insist “I don't eat meat.” She declared. “Oh! That's actually very respectable, and for some reason, makes perfect sense coming from you." Her eyes moved toward the pieces of meat floating around in my soup. “I’m not judging you.” “I didn't think you were.” I held my pistachio drink toward her. “Take a sip.” “No, it's okay. You need to eat.” “Says the girl who ate tomatoes and cheese.” “It had balsamic vinegar.” “Oh. I'm so sorry, never mind. That's a complete meal.” “It was a lot of tomatoes.” I tore off a piece of bread and spread some butter on it. Then dipped it into the soup and held it toward her. “Come on.” She stared at the bread, then back at me with an incredulous look. “You're really going to make me eat alone?” I protest “I'm sitting with you.” “You know what I mean.” She smiled and took it. “There.” She bit into the bread. “Happy?” “Yes.” She chewed. “It really was a lot of tomatoes.” I laughed. “And besides, Mom gets upset when I don't eat dinner at home.” “So you're eating another dinner?” “Probably.” “Then the tomatoes definitely didn't count.” “They counted.” She paused. “Oh. You could come home with me if you want. Mom will make enough.” I pointed at my leg. “It’s kind of a walk for me right now.” “Oh, right.” She laughed nervously before looking me over again. “So what actually happened to you?” She motioned toward my eye, my hand, then my leg. Eventually she gave up and just waved both hands around all of me. “I sparred with this guy.” I tried remembering his name. “What was it? Momoro?” “Mamoru?” Her eyes widened. “Yes! Mamoru.” Lynne stared at me. “How did you end up sparring with Mamoru?” “He asked.” “That isn't what I mean. Why would the professor let you two spar? You're a first-year. Mamoru is in his third.” “Well, I sparred a few other people first.” Her face changed again. “What other people?” “This one guy named Dishant.” “The Bharathi prince?” “Yes, they did say he was a prince.” I took another sip of my pistachio drink. “Apparently not only is he an asshole. He's a royal asshole.” “Xu.” “What?” She was rubbing her forehead. “Who else?” “There was another prince. He looked like a twig.” Her expression immediately became suspicious. “Ibrahim?” “The really skinny one?” “Yes.” “Ibo." “You met Prince Ibrahim?” “Apparently.” “Did you spar with him?” “Naw.” She visibly relaxed. “I sparred with his friends.” The relief disappeared. “Xu.” “What?” “Rab, Amir and Qasim?” "Why do you know about these people already?” “Because they're not exactly the quiet types.” “Oh, yeah, they did dress pretty loud too.” She frowned. “They do this to people.” “Do what?” “They invite first-years and weaker students to spar, say they're going to keep it friendly, and then play tricks on them.” I laughed. Her eyebrows pulled together. “Why are you laughing?” “Because that's exactly what Rab tried.” Her eyes widened. “Is that how you got the black eye?” “No.” I shook my head. “He held his fist out like he wanted me to bump it, then tried to punch me.” Lynne looked genuinely angry. “I moved out of the way and hit him in the body.” I mimicked Rab folding over his liver. “Wheew.” I laughed. Lynne did not. “So who gave you the black eye?” “Oh.” I touched the ice carefully against my face. “Momo—” “Mamoru.” “Mamoru. Right. Why is that name so hard for me?” “What happened?” “Punching him felt like hitting a tree.” She blinked. “Seriously. I thought there was armor under his clothes.” I raised my swollen hand. “Then I kicked him in the leg.” “With that leg?” I pointed at my right leg. “This one.” “And that's why you're limping?” “Not the first time.” Lynne looked confused. “The first kick was fine. His leg felt normal. Solid, but normal.” I tapped the ice against my cheek. “Then I kicked the exact same place again, almost the exact same way, and it felt like I kicked a steel pole.” Lynne nodded like what I'd said made perfect sense. “Yup, that sounds like his magic.” I shook my head in disbelief. “His what?” “His magical ability.” She pointed toward my injured hand. “He isn't actually made of metal. He was using magic.” I lowered the ice. “What kind of magic?” “It’s called Bracing.” “Bracing?” “He can reinforce parts of his body.” I stared at her. My mind went back to the fight. The first kick I threw to his leg felt like normal flesh. Then he started breathing all weird, and the second time I kicked him felt like kicking metal. That's probably why he was holding his arms so far away from his liver. He wanted me to hit him there cause he had his magic thingy blocking it. His whole body isn't made of steel, just the part I was about to hit. But he has to know where I'm going to hit for it to work. My leg still throbbed. My hand was swollen enough that I could barely close it. I started smiling. Lynne noticed. “Why are you smiling?” “Tell me everything.”

Chapter 21- Missing a Step