Silent Child
Still reaching, always
- One on One
- Group
-Wounds-
Featuring:
Silent Child
(Leander),
Juju
(Marianne + company),
Yakov011001
(Klaus),
November Witch
(Crimson), And
Solirus
(Ms. Cristine)
Featuring:
Silent Child
(Leander),
Juju
(Marianne + company),
Yakov011001
(Klaus),
November Witch
(Crimson), And
Solirus
(Ms. Cristine)
Number of days since student injury: 0
The students were met with the weirdly welcoming aura of the school, a radiance of the sun beaming through the perfectly flawed windows creating a warm glow. Though their bodies screamed in agony at the deeper wounds left untended, the world around them was as it always was, uncaring. No one waited for them at the other side, only the signs seemed to greet them, pointing towards their desired destination.
Leander took a small, shaky breath, feeling the painful constriction of his broken ribs with every inhale. The warmth of the sun filtering through the windows felt like a cruel contrast to the icy silence between him and his companions. Leo’s gaze shifted between the still unfamiliar twins and Klaüs, his heart beating faster not from pain but from the unspoken tension.
Hesitantly, he spoke, his voice soft but sincere, hoping to break the chilly silence. “We...we should hurry to the nurse’s office. It wouldn’t be good to let these wounds sit too long.”
His eyes lingered a bit longer on Marianne, a faint attempt at a smile crossing his lips. Despite her cold demeanor, Leo sensed there was more beneath her distant facade. With a gentle nod, he turned his attention back to Klaüs, concern flickering in his eyes.
“Klaüs...are you okay? You looked...tired before the test started.” Leo’s voice softened, his natural inclination to care for others showing even amidst his own discomfort.
Crimson trailed behind the group, stepping in behind them a moment or two later. Just in time to hear what Leo was saying. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped and closed her mouth. Instead of saying anything, she just looked at Leander like he had two heads. Mariana had stopped her from saying anything in the first place, but she stewed in her thoughts for a few moments. Instead of commenting on Leo’s words, like she wanted to, she simply added to the conversation. “So did Marianne. Were the two roommates getting into trouble together last night? How cute~” Crimson teased, heading for the nurse’s office through the halls along with the others.
Nikklaüs only held a finger up from where he was holding on to Marianne, even with the low tone they held he shushed them. His eyes scanning over them with a softness in them unseen before in his features, an ethereal cyan glow brightening the dark circles under his eyes the smallest bit.
“She’s very tired, let’s be sure not to wake her. She deserves some rest.”
Leander blinked at Crimson's teasing, confusion flitting across his face. He didn’t quite understand the joke but decided not to press it, instead glancing nervously between Marianne and Klaüs. The way Klaüs seemed to cradle Marianne with such care caught Leo off guard, and his chest tightened…not from pain this time, but from a mix of awe and curiosity.
Leo lowered his voice to a whisper, not wanting to disturb Marianne either. “O-okay… I didn’t mean to...” His words trailed off as he nervously looked at Klaüs, then back at Crimson, unsure if he should be doing or saying anything else.
A small smile broke through his hesitance as he focused on Klaüs’s protective demeanor. “You’re a really good friend to her,” Leo said softly, his empathy coloring his words. “She’s lucky to have someone who looks out for her like that.”
Crimson skeptically looked at Klaus with a deadpan expression, and didn’t lower her voice. “She passed out, she didn’t fall asleep. I doubt talking with wake her.” She also couldn’t believe what Leo was saying, but again, he hadn’t been there to witness it. Good friends try to kill each other? That would have been a first if that’s really what Leo was saying. But it wasn't. Crimson knew he had no clue what transpired there. Besides, Mariana had carried her first! She should get some credit too! “So is everyone else. Or are you saying there’s someone here that wouldn’t do that for her?” She huffed, annoyed with the situation as a whole. She just wanted to drop off Annamarie, get Mariana looked at, then rest. It wasn’t exactly a tiring fight. But the pain she’d felt earlier was still fatiguing Mariana’s body, albeit much less intense.
Leo shrank back slightly at Crimson’s sharp tone, his fingers curling into the fabric of his clothes as he processed her words. He hadn’t meant to imply anything, but now that he thought about it, he had no idea what had happened before he found them. His brows furrowed, but he didn’t ask what happened. Maybe he should have, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
“I-I didn’t mean it like that,” he murmured, his voice quieter than before. “I just meant… it’s nice to have people who care, even if they don’t always show it the same way.” He shot Crimson an uncertain glance, sensing her frustration but unsure how to address it. He wasn’t used to people being this direct with him- it made his usual soft-spoken approach feel ineffective.
Leo’s gaze flickered back to Marianne, then to Annamarie. He hadn’t spoken to either of them yet, and now wasn’t exactly the best time to start, especially with one not even being conscious. His ribs ached, and the tension between everyone felt heavy. Maybe it was better to stay quiet for now.
Up until this point, Sam had been lulled into an unusually passive state, yet it was almost as if the rising tensions were too delicious to resist. He abruptly snapped out of his languid trance and trotted ahead, brushing along the wall in an attempt to get closer to Leo. He began to snicker, intentions unknown.
In sync with Sam’s timely revival, Annamarie also stirred. Life returned to the limp doll, like a still-life painting now in motion. Her lolling head rose up, and her eyes clicked open, their unblinking stare trained onto Marianne.
For her twin, sentience returned as a flinch and a burst of panic. Her eyes cracked open, struggling to regain her bearings after an unwelcome loss of control. She kept them open just long enough to confirm who was carrying her before closing them again.
“Nikkl—” Her mutterings were drowned in a fit of coughs, each ragged breath thick with blood.
Crimson remained silent, and unsurprised that Marianne came to, simply continuing to the nurse’s office with the others as some around her roused. She continued to hold onto Annamarie as she walked just behind Klaus and to his left, just a step behind.
“Don’t speak,” Nikklaüs’ words were soft, but still spoken with authority. “You’re in no state. Rest.”
It created an illusion, hopefully just enough for her. For the others in tow however, the instant stiffening of his posture and the sudden rigidity of his walk cycle was more than telling how unprepared he was to deal with her while she was actually conscious. Now at the nurse’s, it was his plan to relinquish her and make his escape. That is of course after—
“Hey—uh—can one of y’all get the door for me please?”
“I-I got it,” Leo quickly said, moving ahead as quickly as his broken ribs would allow. He bit back a wince as he reached for the door, pushing it open with both hands before stepping aside to let the others through.
His gaze flickered back to the strange little demon as he did, trying to ignore the way it sent an uneasy prickle down his spine.
Crimson scoffed as Leo opened the door. “Shouldn’t you be letting me do that? You barely look to be in the condition to walk, let alone holding doors for everyone.” She scolded him, walking in behind Klaus. Well, she was starting to understand why arcanists died now. It seemed there was little urgency to treat injuries to the fragile human body. At least, that’s what the actions of the others made her think. She glanced at Marianne, but didn’t have much to say, closing the door behind them all.
Leo flushed slightly at Crimson’s scolding, ducking his head as he stepped aside. “Ah- s-sorry,” he mumbled, his hands instinctively clutching at the hem of his shirt. He hadn’t really thought about it- just acted. Letting someone else do it probably would’ve been the smarter move, but… well, he was used to doing things himself.
Still, the way she said it made him feel a little embarrassed, like he’d done something wrong just by trying to help. He cast a quick glance at her but didn’t argue, instead shifting his gaze toward the others
Fortunately for Leo, Sam didn’t follow him. The creature froze the moment Leo spoke up, suspended mid-step and twitching slightly. By the time the door was opened, Sam’s form disintegrated into a cloud of tiny embers, all of which disappeared as they drifted in the direction of Marianne.
His wounded handler had stopped coughing, growing as still and silent as Sam had been just moments before. It was almost as if she was holding her breath.
The only one who moved was Annamarie, who now struggled against Crimson’s hold on her. It was a slow and subtle attempt at freedom, applying a steady pressure as she tried to forcibly pry the other demon’s arms open with her own strength.
The moment the door to the nurse’s office opened, a fragrant flowery smell flowed from the room. A green and gentle haze of anima lightly obscured the vision of the students who walked in, but in the room itself, poking out in contrast, was a figure resting on a chair. The figure's body appeared an extreme mixture between plant and flesh, their face reflected from the window to show a clear cross-section between the two. Their attention however seemed to be directed towards a sapling in a pot, unaware of the entering students.
Leo didn’t notice Sam vanish—his focus had shifted to the strange, soft haze that filled the nurse’s office. The scent of flowers and greenery washed over him, soothing yet oddly disorienting. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the slight obstruction in his vision.
His gaze landed on the figure in the chair, a startling blend of plant and flesh. His breath hitched for a moment as he caught their reflection in the window. He wasn’t sure what he had expected from the school’s medical staff, but this wasn’t it.
Still, despite their unsettling appearance, the way they tended to the sapling made them seem… gentle. Almost peaceful. Leo hesitated near the entrance, his fingers twitching slightly. He glanced at the other three students as if they'd verify for him whether this was the nurse or not… he genuinely had no clue.
Klaüs would not have been the person to defer to, he simply entered wordlessly. Still, not to say his gaze wasn’t transfixed to the nurse(?) and her SCP body horror show as he walked.
“No cot,” He eyed her up and down suspiciously. “no exam table,” He settled in front of her, his grip on Marianne tightening in an almost imperceptible way. “no tools of any kind. This is the nurse’s office, isn’t it?”
The figure flinched as Nikklaüs spoke up. The plantlike half almost instantly being covered and overtaken by the original's flesh, as Ms. Cristine returned to her normal appearance.
“Oh hi” the nurse spoke, regaining her composure, “Yes, this is the nurse’s office… but please knock on the door next time.” she requested, a light but worried smile forming in her face.
Crimson closed the door behind the group with a tendril as her eyes fell upon the nurse, but they just as briefly left her and studied the lack of anything in the room. After that, her eyes settled on the gazes and reactions of everyone. Crimson seemed confused for a moment before the realization hit her. “Ah, right… Trust me, you’ll see demons that are alot weirder than that.” She said with a soft chuckle at everyone’s reaction. Crimson actually thought it was very interesting. Charming even. But her shift in tone didn’t reflect that. “I thought you were supposed to help people dying. But if knocking on a door is more important to you, sure, I can do that.” She said dryly. Her gaze shifted down to the doll in her grasp. She set her on the floor, and followed closely. She didn’t need this thing trying to fight Klaus or Sam again.
Luckily, Annamarie was behaving herself for the time being, merely standing close to Marianne. The usual idleness of the doll returned in full, and her red eyes stared expectantly at her twin.
Leo shifted uncomfortably at the tension in the room, his fingers twisting at the fabric of his sleeves. He hadn’t been as shocked as the others by the nurse’s transformation… he had seen stranger things in his time in this school already, but the sudden change in atmosphere made his nerves twinge.
At Crimson’s sharp remark, he instinctively wanted to smooth things over. "U-Um, I don't think-" He stopped himself before he finished. No, that wasn’t his place to say who meant what. Instead, he swallowed and took a hesitant step forward, his ribs protesting the movement.
“Er- s-sorry for, um, not knocking," he said quickly, rubbing his arm. "But- uh-we do need help… Marianne- she, um, she was coughing up blood… and, uh, I think some of us-” He cut himself off.
He knew some of them were injured, but he didn’t know who, aside from himself and Marianne. His eyes flickered uncertainly toward the others.
“Well, yeah, healing people is my job, I just get really focused on my research and-okay just, let me see what we have here” Ms. Cristine walked up to Marianne who out of all present appeared the most hurt. “Ah, nothing serious.” she commented as she placed her hand on Marianne’s forehead, with a portion of anima travelling to her palm, “And done”
Marianne could feel vitality rush throughout her body as she felt all her wounds seal up and fractured bones reconstruct themselves. Her attention and consciousness were reignited, and her stamina returned to her tenfold.
Her miraculous return to life was heralded by the loosening of her shoulders and steadying of her breaths, which could now form words again. There were a lot she could have chosen at the moment, but as always she selected only those that were strictly necessary.
“Put me down, please.” She said, voice quiet but firm, “I can stand.”
Leo watched in awe as the anima flowed from Ms. Cristine’s hand, a soft glow enveloping Marianne as her wounds mended. The way her breath evened out, how her body no longer trembled with strain- it was nothing short of miraculous.
His fingers curled slightly at his side. Healing anima... He had always thought of his own ability as something meant to help others, but it had never been this. He could enhance someone’s power, yes, but he couldn’t fix them. Not like this.
A question rose to his lips, something about how it worked, if he could learn it- if it was even possible for him. But the words never left his mouth. Instead, his gaze flickered to Marianne as she spoke for the first time after waking up. He'd never properly listened to her before.
Her voice suits her...
That was a strange thought to have. Leo shook it off, pushing his hands into his sleeves. He should ask for help, too. His ribs hurt, and every breath sent a dull ache rippling through his chest. But something about Marianne’s quiet, unshaken presence made him hesitate. She hadn’t complained once. Hadn’t even flinched when she woke up in someone else’s arms, barely able to breathe. And here he was, wincing every time he moved.
His throat tightened. I can wait...
Instead of speaking up, he shifted his weight subtly, adjusting how he stood so that it didn’t hurt as much. His eyes lingered on Marianne for a moment longer before quickly darting away, heat creeping up the back of his neck for no reason he could name.
“Understood,” Nikklaüs gently brought her down onto the floor, keeping a particular speed with the motion so as to not startle her with the movement. There was a formality in the way he moved and spoke not ever really seen in him before. “So sorry for the trouble ma’am.” Ms. Christine was the only one he regarded, and with a stiff bow. The moment he came up from it, he backed towards the door and made a swift but quiet retreat. The only trace that he had ever been there: a small patch of frost on the edge of the door where he shut it behind him.
With Marianne back to her uninjured self, the doll would have a master again. Crimson didn’t have a need to be here anymore. Besides, Mariana was hurting, and just wanted to lay down. “Now that you’re awake, there’s no need for me.” She said, waving a dismissive hand and turning around to leave just steps behind Klaus. It didn’t sound like it was directed at anyone in specific, but it was said to the twins. She didn’t exactly trust any of the others to be able to watch Marianne’s demon’s. At least, not in the way she could, being one herself. But with their master back, she could leave. “Mariana hopes you all feel better soon.” Crimson followed Klaus out the door, catching it just before it closed.
Marianne was silent as the three left, eyes pinned to an insignificant tile on the floor. She refused to look at either of them, though she managed a small nod of her head in response to Crimson's delivered good wishes. Anything more would have been too much. It was clear that she was healed and had no reason to linger, yet her feet remained firmly idle. It was like she had become a statue, picturesque in her brooding.
Strangely, the more focused of the twins was Annamarie. She was staring at Leo, much like Sam had done mere moments ago. Of course, she was missing the sadistic smile, or any sort of expression for that matter. The lingering web-like cracks on her cheek were the only changes in the demon's face since her first appearance with Marianne.
As the door swung shut behind Klaus and Crimson, another presence slinked through the narrow opening just before it closed completely. A small, dark-furred creature, paws silent, padded inside as if it meant to be stealthy. Mittens. The little cat’s two yellow eyes dully looked around as it took in the room’s occupants.
Leo, who had been subtly avoiding looking at Marianne too much, nearly jumped at the sudden appearance of his cat. His focus had still been split between the fading glow of healing anima and the creeping weight of Annamarie’s unblinking stare. Now, with Mittens making itself comfortable, Leo found himself facing yet another set of eyes watching him.
He swallowed, trying to suppress the unease curling in his stomach.
"...Hey Mittens" he muttered, staring at the feline.
Mittens, of course, offered no verbal reply- only a slow, knowing blink. Then, without a care for the tension in the room, the cat sauntered over to Marianne’s feet, tail flicking lazily as if he had every right to be there.
“Ah- wait-” He had said for a moment, reaching out before his hand went back to his ribs to keep the pain from reminding him again of why he was even here. Mittens paid him no mind.
The cat had wandered directly into the middle of Marianne’s absent gaze, which sharpened at the intrusion. She blinked and then frowned, confused at what a cat was doing here in the nurse’s office. It was so bizarre that for the time being she was pried from her troubled thoughts.
Annamarie was completely distracted as well, forgetting all about Leo in favor of crouching down beside Mittens. Slowly, she reached out a finger to poke the cat’s chubby flank.
As for Marianne, she was quick to connect the dots. Instead of the doll’s everlasting stare, Leo now had to deal with the sharp gaze of Marianne. Her eyes were hard, calculating and seeping with a not-so subtle distaste. The two students had never spoken up until this point, yet at a glance it was clear to see that Marianne was not thrilled to have broken such a streak. It was as if she held an impossible grudge towards someone she had never talked to.
“What are you doing?” She asked sharply, eyes flicking down to Leo’s hand. Even if she hadn’t just suffered the same sort of injury, the familiar signs of a broken rib were written all over his stiff stance and ginger breathing. “If you’ve come for healing you had best get to it. Unless, of course, you intend to wait a month for that to heal naturally.”
Leo stiffened under the weight of Marianne’s gaze, his hands instinctively applying more pressure to his side, his body going a bit stiff. He wasn’t sure what he had expected from her, but hostility right off the bat wasn’t it.
He hesitated, glancing toward Ms. Christine, who had effortlessly fixed Marianne up like it was nothing. The whole process had been… incredible. Seeing anima used like that- so precisely, so powerfully- had left him almost breathless. It was a stark contrast to how his own anima worked, which often felt fragile, unstable at best… and he ultimately wasn't sure he would ever understand.
It would be smart to ask for healing. His ribs hurt, and even though he had forced himself to ignore it, every breath reminded him of the sharp edges grinding together under his skin. It was miserable. But something about Marianne’s tone- like she was already unimpressed, like she was expecting him to be a burden- made his pride bristle.
“…I’m fine,” Leo said, too quickly, too defensively. He cleared his throat, trying to mask the wince that followed. “I’ve had worse.”
That wasn’t even true. This was easily the worst injury he’d ever had, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her.
Instead, he let his gaze drop, fixating on Mittens and Annamarie. The cat had flopped onto his side, completely unconcerned with the tension. As it would happen, Annamarie was equally as oblivious. She ran her porcelain fingers down Mitten’s tubby stomach, stopped, raised her hand, and then repeated the motion with mechanical precision. It was clunky, but mimicked the action of petting well enough.
“I just… wanted to see how it worked,” Leo added, much quieter this time. “Healing anima, I mean.”
Ironically, Leo’s attempt at dismissing Marianne’s concerns actually sparked her attention more. Her frown deepened, eyes narrowed as she looked at him closer. Instinctively, she thought him a liar. It was impossible to believe that he had endured worse without the assistance of anima arts, but another intrusive memory made her hesitate on that judgement. Not everyone had access to healing anima arts. Some people even had scars from it.
Marianne fell quiet then, Leo’s lie unchallenged as she brooded some more. Trying to steer her mind away from the resurfacing thoughts, she mentally ranked different wounds, trying to determine what injury Leo might have sustained without a significant cripple.
“Healing anima?” Ms. Cristine wondered a bit, before realizing what Leo meant, “Oh well, there isn’t healing anima… not exactly at least. I’m not sure if Jaquie has mentioned it before but arcanists go about healing based on their anima art. Only a few arts are capable of healing people and well I have one that lets me get those results.”
Leo blinked, his interest overriding his stubborn determination to act unaffected. “Wait, so healing isn’t its own thing?” he asked, his previous defensiveness momentarily forgotten.
That wasn’t what he’d expected. He had always assumed that healing was just another branch of anima arts, like enhancement or barriers or elemental manipulation. But if it was tied to specific arts rather than being a universal skill…
His gaze flickered back to Ms. Christine, curiosity creeping into his expression despite himself. “Then how does yours work?” he asked, his previous hesitance buried under the need to understand. He had already seen her in her other form—half plant, half human. Was her healing connected to that somehow? Did she use her own vitality to fix others? Grow people back together like some kind of living graft?
For a moment, he forgot about Marianne’s previous sharp stare. Forgot about the ache in his ribs. All that remained was fascination.
“Why would they be separated from the other arts? If so, you’d have to include those that provide healing in addition to other effects. It would be much too messy.” Marianne scoffed, using the ongoing conversation as a welcome distraction. Once again she chose to linger in the office rather than depart. “Besides, the novelty will wear off soon enough. After a few visits it will be more of a chore than anything else.”
She crossed her arms, looking between Leo and Ms. Christine. Her eyes rested on the sapling there for a moment before she added, “While on the subject, I’d also like to know more of your art. Is it related to plants as well?”
“Good catches!” Ms. Cristine remarked, her demeanor becoming more eager. “Ok so yes I do use plants, but people aren’t plants obviously, so the first thing I do is have little plants reattach what they can in your body, then if something is missing those plants will become a part of your body and essentially copy your own flesh so they aren’t rejected by the body.” she explained happily and calmly as if this was a very ordinary thing. “You can imagine then how it is for other conditions. For poisons it just nullifies it, bloodloss it just creates more, I was honestly really inspired by mushrooms which are still tricky but I have been able to reach out there…”
Leo’s eyes widened as he listened, a strange mix of fascination and mild horror creeping in. Plants copying flesh? That was—he didn’t even know what to think about that. It sounded almost unnatural, but at the same time, kind of amazing. Like… was there a point where someone stopped being entirely human if they had too much plant matter replacing their body?
His mind raced with possibilities. If her anima art worked like that, did it mean that people could survive worse injuries than normal? Could someone essentially be rebuilt with enough of her healing? Could she bring someone back from the brink of death with nothing but plant substitutes?
“Wait-” he started, then hesitated, his excitement battling with the fact that he didn’t usually ask so many questions. He fidgeted, suddenly aware that he had leaned in slightly. But he couldn’t help himself. “So… does that mean if you replaced enough of someone, they’d stop being…uh, I don’t know- them?”
It was a weird thought, but he had to know.
His question made Marianne’s eye twitch. She was growing restless, fingers rhythmically tapping her arms in quick succession. A deep frown shadowed her brow as she once again glared daggers at the ground. Shoulders tensed up as she remembered the glint of metal beneath flesh. The troubled thoughts rose up like a stormsurge, and it was becoming difficult to push them down.
“Good question, it reminds me of the ship of Theseus.” Ms. Cristine added, engaged in the conversation, “So the primary element to consider here is what the soul recognizes as the body. Our bodies grow and replace dying cells all the time. I'm pretty sure a lot of our flesh as we grow up gets totally replaced, but we are still we, so as long as the soul thinks it’s in the right body, then you are you!”
“Ms. Cristine,” Marianne blurted out suddenly, her voice sharp with urgency, “do you think demon healing techniques could be applied to flesh?”
“Hm.” Ms. Cristine paused at Marianne’s unique question, “It’s possible, there have been cases of demons healing human flesh, so it’s definitely possible.”
Leo blinked at the sudden shift in tone, his gaze snapping to Marianne. Her urgency caught him off guard—she had been sharp before, but now there was something else behind it. Something that made him even more curious.
The idea of demon healing hadn’t even crossed his mind, but now that it had, he was intrigued. Demons had their own rules when it came to anima, didn’t they? If their bodies worked differently, maybe their healing wasn’t bound by the same limits as human techniques.
He wanted to ask, but the way Marianne held herself—so tense, so not here—made him hesitate. It wasn’t just curiosity for her. It was something deeper. And for some reason, that realization made his chest feel weirdly tight.
Still, his curiosity won out in the end. “Wouldn’t that be risky, though?” he asked, keeping his voice quieter this time. “Demon anima doesn’t exactly work like ours. What if it… changed something else, too?”
“Well, like many things it depends” Ms. Cristine responded, “Demon anima is only different because of how fundamentally messy it is, but depending on their method of healing, there might not be any lasting issue. So, it can be risky, but well, you’d just have to figure it out.” She explained, seemingly oblivious at the tension in the room.
Marianne kept her expression guarded, keenly aware of the eyes on her. The only indication that she had understood what Ms. Cristine said was a small nod. There were so many questions yet to be asked, but they would have to wait. The cozy office had become constricting, the floral aroma nauseating. She had to leave before her thoughts spiraled any more. Especially in front of someone like him.
She confronted Leo’s searching gaze with one that was cold and intense, making hard eye contact to bluff him into looking away. The only thing she didn’t seem to mask was her suspicion towards his worries, or perhaps the intensity was meant to obscure everything else.
“You should concern yourself with more pressing matters. Like that rib, in case you needed a reminder.” She said coolly, her glare never faltering.
Leo did look away- not because he was intimidated, but because he was embarrassed. His ears burned as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. He’d never met someone who made their thoughts seem so off-limits before. Even now, she was pushing him away with her words, and he barely even knew her.
Still, her pointed reminder about his ribs made him reflexively tense, a subtle wince flickering across his face before he could stop it. He wasn’t about to admit she was right, though. Even if she was.
“Yeah, sorry,” he muttered, suddenly fascinated with Mittens rubbing against Annamarie’s legs.
His fingers twitched at his side before he finally exhaled, shifting his weight awkwardly. “…Ms. Cristine,” he started, hesitating just a second too long. “Would you-” His voice faltered, barely above a mumble now. “-heal me too?”
It came out more like an unfinished thought than a real request, as if he half-expected to be brushed off for waiting this long. He kept his eyes on the cat, avoiding Marianne’s gaze entirely.
“Oh of course!” Ms. Christine responded gladly as a small vine grew from her fingertips and lightly tapped Leo with a small bit of anima. Leo could feel his body healing and wounds mending. Like Marianne he was left spotless and with renewed vigor. “Done.”
Leo exhaled sharply, caught off guard by just how quickly the pain faded. It was almost jarring- the ache that had been sitting in his ribs for what felt like forever was just gone. He straightened his posture instinctively, testing his movements, half-expecting some lingering soreness. But there was none. It was as if he’d never been hurt in the first place.
“…Whoa.” The word slipped out before he could stop it.
For a moment, all his prior tension evaporated, replaced by genuine awe. His eyes flickered back to Ms. Cristine, then down to her fingers, where the vine had retreated. His mind raced with everything she had said about healing, about how the plants worked, about how different anima arts could be. It wasn’t some detached, clinical interest either- this was something real, something that had just happened to him.
His fingers brushed over his ribs, as if trying to confirm that they weren’t still cracked underneath. They weren’t.
“…That’s incredible.” He finally looked up at Ms. Cristine, his usual nervous energy momentarily forgotten. “You really- just like that?” He gestured vaguely at himself, still processing how effortless it seemed.
“Mhm!” Ms. Chistine nodded eagerly to Leo’s awe and confusion.
It took a beat for him to realize he was still speaking, and the embarrassment quickly crept back in. “T-thank you-” His gaze flickered toward Marianne, as if expecting some kind of reaction from her. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for- approval, dismissal, another sharp remark- but his heart and thoughts both skipped when he actually met her eyes.
For a second, it felt like something shifted. Maybe it was just because she was the one who had forced him to ask for help in the first place. Maybe it was because, despite how cold she’d been, she hadn’t actually left. Maybe it was the way she was always so composed, so unreadable- so herself, in a way that made him curious.
Whatever it was, it was subtle. Barely there. And Leo, being Leo, shoved it deep, deep down before he could think too hard about it. Curiosity didn't tend to lead him to the best places. “And thank you- too” He muttered to her finally, still clearly a bit embarrassed about her reminding him.
Marianne had relaxed after Leo dropped his stare, using his moment of distraction to stare back into the void and brood. Hearing his amazement over the healing process reminded her of a child, and once again she realized the cultural gap that existed between herself and her peers.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught Leo looking at her again. Like a reflex, she snapped back into her glare. Something in Leo’s expression made her bristle, and like bile she felt a misplaced anger and disgust rise up. Her lip curled upwards in a sneer.
“Thank me for what, exactly? I did nothing.” Marianne scowled, shaking her head in utter bewilderment. Honestly, the more she got to know her peers the less she understood them.
“Besides, you would have been back by nightfall,” she added with a raised eyebrow and suspicious tone, “sleeping with a broken rib is an entirely different battle. Your performance in class would have dropped significantly too. If I hadn’t reminded you of the obvious I am sure the professor would have.”
Leo barely held back a flinch at Marianne’s sharp retort, but he managed not to shrink under her glare. He should’ve expected that- of course she wasn’t the type to take thanks gracefully. Still, something about the way she reacted made him feel like he’d stepped on something rather than properly acknowledged her.
His instinct was to backtrack, maybe throw in an awkward joke to diffuse the tension, but then she kept going. Her words were blunt, practical, and completely logical. And yet, the way she laid it all out, so certain of how things would’ve played out, made his stomach twist. It was just another reminder of how differently they thought. Would he really have come back later? Or would he have just kept pushing through, letting the injury linger for days, weeks- until it became something normal, something tolerable?
He didn’t like how easily she had seen through him.
“…Yeah,” he admitted, looking away with a sheepish chuckle. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”
It wasn’t exactly an agreement, but it wasn’t a denial either. His fingers curled slightly, as if resisting the urge to fidget. He glanced at Mittens, still twining around Annamarie’s legs, then back at Marianne, who seemed just as eager to retreat into her own world as he usually was. He wasn’t sure what made him say it, but the words slipped out before he could second-guess them. “Still, you could’ve just ignored me. Would’ve been easier.” His voice was quieter, more thoughtful than accusatory. “So… even if you think it was nothing, I still mean it.”
Marianne blinked, and all at once that glare loosened into a look of abject horror. Leo had indeed stepped on something—something sharp and hateful. Once the shock passed, the look of guarded disgust was gone. Instead, her eyes flashed in unfiltered anger and pain, all pointed at the nearest and undeserving target.
“Honestly, what is wrong with you lot?!” She hissed, hands balled into fists and shoulders raised like hackles, “You see the basest of courtesies as some… some sort of benevolence! I should have ignored it, but it’s clear that you cannot take care of yourselves! This idiotic behaviour is going to get you all killed! Why won’t you understand that?”
She was painfully aware of how irrational she was behaving—and justly condemned herself for such a pathetic display—but it was overpowered by the frantic need to leave this place at once. If she stayed she risked unwinding all the effort it had taken to choke out the rotten, ugly things in her chest. Already they leaked venom into her every word. Already her breaths quickened in panic.
She turned on her heel and quickly stepped for the door, “Annamarie, we are going now.”
Annamarie stood as directed, though not before scooping up Mittens in her arms. She took a step forward, intent on carrying the fat feline with her, until Marianne’s sharp words made her freeze.
“Leave the cat.”
While Annamarie slowly and reluctantly lowered Mittens to the ground, Marianne took a moment to gather her composure. One breath in, one breath out.
“Thank you, Ms. Cristine.” Marianne added at last, her voice surprisingly polite despite everything. “that will be all.”
A little too eagerly, she opened the door to the office.
Leo had flinched at her outburst, not out of fear, but because it hit unexpectedly and raw. He watched, wide-eyed, as Marianne unraveled, her fury lashing out at nothing and everything. His chest tightened at her words. She wasn’t just mad. She was afraid. The realization made his stomach drop, but before he could even think to say something- anything- she was already moving. Her command to Annamarie was sharp, her retreat decisive. Even her sudden, clipped politeness toward Ms. Cristine felt like another layer of armor snapping into place.
Leo hesitated. He could’ve let her go, could’ve let the door swing shut without another word. That would’ve been the easy thing to do. Instead, at the last moment, he spoke- soft but deliberate.
“...You’re right.” Not an apology. Not a plea. Just that. She wouldn’t accept pity. She wouldn’t accept thanks. But maybe, just maybe, she’d accept that. Yet Marianne kept walking, each step sharp and purposeful, as if she could outrun whatever had just clawed its way out of her. For a split second, Leo stayed put, watching the door swing open, watching her bolt like a cornered animal. The logical part of him- the part that wanted to avoid conflict, avoid making things worse- told him to let her go. But something deeper, something instinctual, pushed him forward before he could talk himself out of it. He muttered a quick “Thanks again, Ms. Cristine,” and slipped out the door after her.
“Hey- wait,” Leo called, quickening his pace. His voice wasn’t demanding, but it wasn’t hesitant either. He wasn’t trying to challenge her or make her stop out of obligation—just enough to let her know he wasn’t about to just let her storm off without a word. Once he got close enough, he carefully, carefully, matched her stride, though he kept a respectable distance. He wasn’t stupid enough to try grabbing her or stepping into her space. He just… walked with her.
“I meant it,” he said after a moment, his voice even, lacking its usual nervous energy. “You’re right. We are idiots. Or at least, I am.” He huffed a breath, something between a sigh and a weak laugh. “I would’ve just ignored it. And it probably would have gotten worse. So… yeah.” A beat passed before he added, quieter, “Does that make it less frustrating?”
It wasn’t an attempt to guilt her, or to force her to soften. Just an honest question, like a peace offering without strings attached. Truly, it was a shame how easily the olive branch was snapped. Even before the sharp words, the answer to his question was in the grey loathing of her eyes.
“Less frustrating? Is that what you think!?” Marianne spat, rounding on Leo with an abrupt stop. “You don’t understand do you? None of you do! Already ranked in the second tier and oblivious to the most basic of principles!”
Her nails bit into the flesh of her palms and her shoulders tensed. She lowered her voice, yet the intensity never softened, “Leander, take a good look at me and tell me why you think I was dragged off to the infirmary like this. Why was Ms. Cristine required?”
She stood very still, glaring at Leo with narrowed, judging eyes. Ms. Cristine’s healing had mended her wounds perfectly, yet the splatters of blood on her neck and chest still remained. Without the wounds, they looked out of place, like the crimson on her lips. Her hair was loose, messy from being dragged by the throat through a forest. Even her expensive dress was torn and stained. It was rare to see Marianne in such a state of disarray, just like the unbridled anger. Perhaps more than just her body had been wounded this day.
Leo froze as she turned on him, the sheer force of her fury slamming into him harder than any anima strike ever could. His breath caught—part of him wanted to retreat, to apologize, to make it stop—but he didn’t move. Not this time. Her words cut deep, but it wasn’t the volume or the bite that struck him. It was the truth behind them. And when she asked that final question—when she demanded he look at her—he did. He really looked.
The blood that hadn’t been cleaned. The ruined dress. The disheveled hair. The fury in her voice wasn’t born from pride, it was born from humiliation. From being seen like this, raw and exposed, in a way she hadn’t consented to. He’d thought her untouchable. But now, standing there, she wasn’t invincible—she was just hurt. His mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out right away. And then—his brow creased, just faintly. He recalled how she'd looked previously when she was still unconscious…
There were no claw marks. No corrosive burns. No telltale signs of specifically demonic wounds. Just bruising. Scratches. The kind of damage that came from hands. From force.
Not a demon. A person.
His eyes widened just slightly, subtle but unmistakable as the pieces clicked into place. The realization hit like a chill down his spine.
“…Wait,” he said, voice quieter now, but tinged with something more serious—concern, disbelief, maybe even a hint of anger, though it wasn’t directed at her. “That wasn’t from a demon, was it?” He looked at her again, really looked—at the blood, the torn dress, the way she stood like she was still waiting for another blow.
“Someone did that to you?”
It was Marianne’s turn to wince, her glare diluted with widened eyes.
“That’s not—” She stumbled, averting her gaze, “it doesn’t matter.”
“What I’m telling you is that one misjudgement is all that it takes. If you’re not at your absolute best it could cause the deaths of dozens of nulls or…” She was losing her train of thought, struggling to find words that could dance around the painful subject. Panic was leaching into her voice, “It could have… it could have been prevented. Had things been different and I had done better.”
There was a brief pause as the events that led up to that morning threatened to resurface. The soft, understanding look that Leo was giving her was just like those given by Mariana and Valerie. It made her skin crawl and stomach swim with disgust. How could they dare to suggest she was worthy of pity without knowing what she had done?
Her breathing had become unsteady, and she clenched her fists tightly to keep her hands from shaking. In the end, she couldn’t help but lash out at the only person she could, “What were you expecting anyways? Some sort of reward for bearing your wounds with dignity? Someone to come and help you? You’re an idiot if you truly believe in either. Nobody is coming to save you.”
The way her words stumbled, how her gaze broke, how she couldn’t keep her breath steady. It made something in Leo’s chest twist. Not pity. Just a quiet, aching understanding.
“…Maybe no one’s coming to save me,” he said quietly, eyes steady on her. “I’ve kind of always assumed that, honestly.” His voice didn’t carry bitterness. Just calm, self-aware truth.
“But maybe that’s exactly why we’re supposed to save each other. Even if it’s stupid. Even if it doesn’t always work.” There was a pause, and he looked away, briefly, almost embarrassed.
“I like the idea of being someone who would. You know? The kind of person who’d show up if someone actually asked for help. Even if they never do. Even if they wouldn’t for me.”
His gaze flicked back to her then, a little more serious. “So… if you ever did ask-” he hesitated, just a second, “-I’d do my best to show up. Even if you think no one would. And- and… if you hate me specifically for having this… as my way of thinking, then I can take that. I don't like the idea of facing… death or pain- but if I can help in the slightest to make sure no one else does- that's why I guess…”
Something passed over Marianne’s face then, muddling all the anger into a glazed, out of focus blur. Her eyes were distant and incredibly weary, but it was more than just exhaustion that welled up upon hearing that fragile resolution. The more earnest his promises, the more forlorn that expression became.
“You truly are an idiot.” She hissed, contempt flaring at such soft-hearted idealisms, “Pain and death will be your only two constants, and you sure as hell won’t be of any use to anyone if you’ve made a habit of leaving yourself crippled.”
Unable to even look at Leo anymore, she turned away and stormed down the hallway once again, “As for your help, you can keep it to yourself. I’d be better off if you just left me alone.”
“…Then that just means I need to get better, right?” he said quietly, more to himself than to her. He started to move, a hand running through his hair in thought. “Actually, I was going to ask if you’d- if you’d maybe help me talk to Mr. Jaquie- I think if I-”
His words stopped dead in his throat.
Then within the next moment his eyes turned yellow, full, sharp, and slitted, the world seemed to tilt sideways. His breath caught mid-sentence, his body seizing up in eerie stillness as a white-hot pulse surged through his head. A flicker- then a flood. He stumbled, eyes wide with confusion as the hallway around him bled away, his legs giving out beneath him as he fell to the floor on his knees with a dull thud. Not violently, not in pain- just gone. Not unconscious, but unmoving. As if something had snatched him out of his body mid-step.
He saw Ms. Cristine’s office.
The light. The air. The sapling in the corner. Every detail clear and sharp- but wrong. Off. The angle was strange. Low to the ground. Sideways. And yet, he could see it, feel the air in the room, sense the presence of others like he was there, though he couldn’t move a muscle. His heart raced in confusion. Was I teleported? Am I paralyzed? Nothing made sense.
His anima flared, leading from his body back to the nurse’s office, the tether connecting himself and Mittens that usually fades upon being noticed, became much more visible.
Marianne was so focused on ignoring whatever Leo was saying that she immediately noticed when he fell silent. At first she was grateful, daring to believe that perhaps the bleeding heart had run dry and he would finally leave her to her private misery. That’s when she heard knees hitting the floor.
She turned around, saw the abrupt change in her classmate, and froze. She moved without thinking, a reflex born of panic. Marianne skidded to a stop a meter away from Leo, just out of arm's reach. Annamarie was at her side, scissors resting on her shoulder and ready. There were no more chances. Not after the events of that morning. Perhaps not ever again.
Marianne first examined the appearance of Leo’s anima, now suppressed. Her eyes traced the tether that now led back into the office. It centered around a small, suspiciously chubby form.
“Bloody hell.” She hissed between gnashed teeth.
In a shower of red motes, Sam returned after his abrupt detention. He seemed pleased to be back, giggling in his warped manner when he saw Leo kneeling helplessly on the floor. Like the wolf to the injured lamb, he crept closer to the unconscious arcanist but froze when Marianne spoke.
“Sam, fetch me that damned cat.” She commanded, as one would to a prized hound. All the while she never lifted her eyes off of Leo, her gaze sharp with focus. Erring on the side of caution, she added, “And be gentle with it.”
The demon took off like a loosed arrow, eager for new prey. He phased straight through the door to Cristine’s office, and leapt at Mittens in an attempt to lovingly chomp down on its scruff.
Sam stopped abruptly, enwrapped by spontaneous vines of a potted plant in Ms. Cristine’s office, the sudden motion having seemingly activated the mechanism.
“Eee!” Ms. Cristine turned to see what had just intruded into her office so quickly, finding the smiling demon restrained and Mittens acting odder than usual. “Hm?” she wondered, getting closer before having a smile form on her face, “Oh my, that’s impressive Leo!” she exclaimed looking directly at the cat while the vines holding Sam slowly ensured the demon's mouth remained open.
The demon struggled uselessly, thrashing as much as the vines would allow in a feeble attempt to claw at them. Sam's eyes were still locked onto Mittens, its intent unbidden.
Panic clawed its way through Leo’s chest. His vision adjusted with disorienting fluidity, and he realized he could feel the soft padding of paws against the floor, the subtle twitch of a tail he didn’t own. His ears were sharper. Sound crisper. Everything was too close, too immediate. He looked down- saw fuzzy paws instead of hands. His head turned toward Ms. Cristine, tail curling uncertainly. Her voice had broken through the fog of his panic, her words echoing in his mind.
She knows? How? What does she mean impressive- does she think I meant to do this? He tried to shake his head, but instead, Mittens gave an irritable flick of his ears. It was so strange- he could feel the sensations of the cat’s body, but his instincts were all wrong. Nothing was reacting the way it should have. Leo's thoughts spiraled as he tried to make sense of the connection, of what this meant, of how he was seeing through a creature that wasn’t him, wasn’t human- and somehow, still felt eerily familiar.
“I-I didn’t mean to do this…” he murmured faintly in his real body- though his lips barely moved, and his voice was thin, distant. “I don’t understand. Why… why am I seeing this? I'm not… here?”
Marianne peered down at him, still keeping her distance. The relief of hearing his normal voice wore down some of the sharper edges in her own, though the caution never left. “I haven't the faintest idea, but if I were to hazard a guess it would be something to do with that cat you're tethered to. I take it this isn't typical?”
She raised a hand to her face and dragged her fingers down it, using Leo's temporary blindness as an opportunity to hide a grimace. The change in his eyes, the way he crumbled. It was all too much.
“I've sent Sam to retrieve the cat, if you didn't control this.” She added slowly, as if she hadn't just sent the mad dog on a witchhunt. “He will bring it to you…”
As she said this she looked up, realizing her hunting hound had fallen into a bit of a trap. She frowned and muttered a curse, unaware of what was happening between the nurse and Mittens.
Marianne’s voice reached him in pieces, fragmented by distance and dissonance. But he could tell- she was talking. To him. That meant she had heard him speak. Her words tangled with Ms. Cristine’s, overlapping in his ears and pulling his focus in two directions at once, yet somehow he understood both. He tried to respond again, unsure if his body would actually speak. “I-I don’t know… I don’t know what I’m doing- this isn’t… normal.”
He didn’t even realize how tightly he’d started to clench the claws of Mittens into the floor beneath him. “I-I need to come back… I need to come back now…” His voice remained soft… but as he spoke, as if a trigger has been hit, his vision shifted back to normal, in his body. Visibly startled, he nearly jumped up had he not felt a sense of vertigo. His limbs twitched like a puppet cut from its strings, eyes wide and unfocused for a moment as he scrambled to ground himself in the reality of his own body again. The floor felt cold beneath his palms. The lighting in the hallway was too bright. The sounds were clearer, sharper, no longer layered over one another. He was back- in his body. It hasn't been long, but it certainly felt nice to be back in his own senses.
He instinctively looked down at his chest, expecting to see the white tether still glowing as vividly as before- but it wasn’t. The vivid white line that had pulsed with anima had dimmed almost instantly. Still there- still tangible, if someone stared hard enough- but now it flickered faintly, subdued, nearly invisible again unless you knew exactly where to look. Fading back into its usual barely-there existence, like it had never surged to life at all.
Leo stared at it for a moment, breath caught in his throat. It hadn’t disappeared entirely… and now he knew it could flare like that- though the results were still quite odd. He didn’t understand what had happened. “I- I'm so confused- was that an art-?”
Marianne watched him with razor intensity, searching for even the faintest trace of aggression. Fortunately for both of them, there was none to be found. She motioned for Annamarie to dispel her blades before addressing Leo’s question. Once more, she found it odd that he was asking her, but she was too tired to break her old habits.
“Considering everything else about your anima appears to be normal, it is safe to assume such. The development of one’s art occurs in sporadic jumps. Spurred by moments that align with the core emotion.” She explained warily, the outrage she once held all but evaporated.
She didn’t want to think of the implications as to why Leo’s art had reacted so strongly now, and she wasn’t fond of how he had turned to her for answers. The respect he still somehow held for her almost made her sick to the stomach.
She looked him over once more, double checking that he was well, and then sighed, “The professor or Ms. Cristine can likely grant some additional insight, but ultimately this art and its growth is in your hands. Although you should really focus on controlling that first. Otherwise it might happen in the middle of a fight.”
Leo slowly pushed himself up off the floor, still a bit shaky, brushing dust from his palms as he processed her words. His eyes flicked toward the barely-there tether once more before looking back at Marianne, that dazed confusion still lingering in his expression.
“Right… yeah. Control. That’d probably be good,” he muttered, half to himself, still not entirely sure if he was overwhelmed or just incredibly tired.
There was a pause- he hesitated, glancing away, then scratched at the back of his neck. “Anyway, uh… before that happened, I was gonna ask—do you think Mr. Jaquie would talk to me about it? I kinda want to… I don’t know, learn more. Figure out how I’m supposed to work with it… get stronger?”
He avoided her eyes then, keeping his tone casual- like nothing had happened, like he wasn’t still rattled. But the tension in his shoulders hadn’t quite left. “Its like you said- I… need to get better-”
“If you are truly devoted to that ideology, then yes. It is your duty to improve yourself.” She said stiffly, turning away from Leo now that he was mostly recovered. With a scoff, she added, “Professor Lawphel provides tutoring services after class. You’d be wise to take advantage of that.”
There was a pause of consideration before she shared her next words. They were hesitant as she spoke, “Additionally, there is the study group.”
Trying her best to avoid any more questions, especially to the open invitation, she left Leo where he was and walked off down the hallway. She snapped her fingers, dispelling Sam and freeing him from the vines that bound him. As always, Annamarie followed behind.
A study group. That meant she didn’t think he was completely hopeless. Maybe just mostly.
Leo let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and finally started moving again, brushing off his clothes with a tired shake of his head. “Right. Professor Lawphel…” He tried to keep it distinguished, perhaps to mimic Marianne’s phrasing, though he certainly meant no ill will as he continued the list. “Study group… don’t pass out in a hallway again…,” he muttered dryly to himself, still slightly rattled but- oddly- just a little more grounded than before.
He paused after a few steps, gaze drifting back down the hallway toward the nurse’s office. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides. “And… the cat.” Right… Mittens. He’d almost forgotten the cat was still in there- though, given everything that had just happened, it was hard to think of the fuzzy little creature the same way anymore.
Leo turned and made his way back, pace a little slower than usual, each step accompanied by a lingering stiffness in his limbs. He wasn’t hurt anymore, but his body hadn’t quite caught up with the fact. Or maybe it was just his head that hadn’t.
He rubbed the back of his neck as he approached the door, brow furrowed in thought. What even was that? Some kind of anima resonance? A side effect of the tether? A sign that I’m just fundamentally broken? The thought was half-joke, half-genuine concern.
As he pushed open the door, the familiar scent of florals washed over him again- comforting now but still tinged with that memory of experiencing it through something else’s senses. Mittens sat in the corner, looking completely unbothered, licking a paw with the smug serenity only cats could ever manage. If it remembered any of it, it gave no sign.
Leo stepped in cautiously, eyes flicking briefly to Ms. Cristine, then back to the feline. “Uh… hey,” he said awkwardly to no one specifically- maybe the cat, maybe the room itself. “I think I’m here to pick up… my weird mystical anomaly.” Mittens only blinked at him slowly.
Leo crouched down, still eyeing the cat like he wasn’t sure whether to pet it or punt it across the room. “You and I are gonna have to talk at some point,” he muttered under his breath as he reached out and lifted the cat up.
