"That's all I ask." She reached out, took his hand, held it like she was afraid he'd disappear. "Oh, by the way. The Shaw girl has been asking about you."
"Neila?"
"Every day. She usually asks if you're awake and turns back when you're not." Reina's lips curved. "I think she likes you."
"We're just-"
"Just what? I can't believe it. You're smooth talking women behind my back, how dare you do such a thing." Reina's smile widened.
"I'm not-"
"You've got Kira clinging to your sleeve every chance she gets. Lucy keeps asking about you, even though she barely talks to anyone else. And now Neila Shaw, the ice queen herself, is doing daily check-ins. You're collecting them like pokemon cards."
"It's not like that."
"Sure it isn't." She patted his hand. "Anyway, when are you going to give me grandchildren? I'm not getting any younger, you know. A nice daughter, maybe two. Kira's sweet, but she's too fragile. I'm not really that into Lucy. Neila, though..." She winked. "She might be the perfect fit. Or if you'd prefer someone more mature, I'm always available."
"Miss Reina."
"I know all the spots, I raised you after all, I could make you feel good-"
"Miss Reina."
"What? A woman has needs." She laughed at his expression. "Relax. I'm teasing. Mostly." She stood, stretching. "Get some rest. I'll let the others know you're awake. Neila will probably be here within the hour."
"She can wait."
"Can she?" Reina raised an eyebrow. "She's been waiting a week. I don't think she's very patient." She moved toward the door, paused, looked back. "Hoshimi?"
"Yes?"
"I'm glad you're awake."
She left before he could respond.
The afternoon light was gray and indifferent, filtering through the dusty windows.
The Academy infirmary was housed in its own building, a squat, functional structure that sat at the edge of the campus. The interior was quiet, the way hospitals always were, a hush that had nothing to do with peace and everything to do with the weight of what happened inside.
The nurse had protested when he'd asked to leave. Something about "doctor's orders" and "medical supervision" and "you were literally unconscious."
He'd left anyway.
[I don't mind following orders but I can't stand doing nothing]
He found her in a dormitory on the third floor. One of the private rooms reserved for students.
The door was open slightly. Through the gap, he could see her standing by the window, her back to him, her arms crossed over her chest. She wore a simple white blouse and dark pants, her blonde hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. She looked smaller than he remembered. More alone.
He knocked.
"Hoshimi."
Her voice was flat. Expectant. Like she'd been waiting for him.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was sparse, functional, the same government-issue furniture that filled every Academy dorm. A bed. A desk. A window. Nothing personal. Nothing that suggested someone actually lived here.
Neila turned to face him.
Her blue eyes swept over him, taking in the bandages visible beneath his collar, the stiffness in his movements, the way he was favoring his left side. Her expression, that carefully composed mask, flickered briefly.
"You look like shit."
"I don't know, maybe because I just got out of a nice warm sleep."
She crossed the room toward a small cabinet, pulling out a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Sit down before you fall down. I don't want to have to explain to Reina why her precious puppet collapsed in my room."
He lowered himself into the chair by her desk. His body protested every movement, but he managed. The glass she offered him was filled with something dark red, something that probably cost more than his monthly stipend.
"I don't like wine."
"I know." She set the glass on the desk beside him anyway. "It's for me. I need it." She poured herself a generous measure and took a long sip. "You've been unconscious for a week."
"So I've heard."
"It was boring." She settled into the chair across from him, crossing her legs with practiced elegance. "Nothing interesting happened. No assassins. No explosions. In fact I wish the assassin were here, the Vice had to tell the reporters that you were in another hospital to get them off you. And there were so many-so, smelly ass reporters and they got their grubby hands on my beautiful face! Absolutely revolting!"
"Sounds terrible."
"It was." She took another sip. "My father has been making moves."
That caught his attention.
"What kind of moves?"
"The kind that involves the production site for magic tools. The one I told you about at the burger place. He's accelerating his plans. Not sure what his pans are but whatever he's planning to do, it's happening soon." She set her glass down. "I've been working on my own countermeasures. I've made contact with someone inside his organization. An insider. Someone who knows the details of the plan."
"Can you trust them?"
"I pay them enough. More than their minimum wage job pays them." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "They're willing to meet. To give me everything I need to stop him. But going alone would be dangerous, I'm not that stupid."
"You want me to come with you."
"Not just come with me. I need an excuse to leave the Academy without raising suspicion. You're still under heavy surveillance - or you will be, once you're cleared for active duty. If I'm seen going out on patrol with you, no one will question it. And if something goes wrong..." She met his eyes. "I need someone I can trust to watch my back."
"You trust me?"
Her lips curved. "No…not really, but you still need me don't you? And you're the best I've got."
He considered this. "When?"
"Three days. That should give you enough time to recover. The meeting is at a warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The insider will provide the details of my father's plan, and I'll provide payment. Simple exchange. In and out."
"They're making me stay here another week, so it'll be difficult for us to go."
"Fine, I'll change the schedule then."
"Are you really sure that things will be that simple?"
"Of course not." She picked up her wine glass, swirled the dark liquid, watched it cling to the sides. "I know that too well. But with the assassin still out there, still hunting you, the patrols are the safest way to move."
"Can you handle that?"
"I think you're underestimating me." She took another sip of wine. "Besides, I can heal from an injury caused from some third rate assassin, but my father on the other hand is much scarier."
"Why?"
Neila was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was softer than he'd ever heard it.
"My father used to be the middle child, of course he wasn't in the position to become the family heir." Her eyes narrowed, "what do you think he did?"
"He kill-"
"He killed his siblings. He'd do anything to achieve his goals, he wants to be above the system, put the other families out of business. The magic tool production site is the last piece. If he takes it, he'll have a monopoly on every magical weapon, every artifact, every piece of equipment that the witch community depends on. He'll be untouchable."
"And you want to stop him."
"Partly." She met his eyes. "The Mirlo money gave me independence. But it also made me a target. He didn't care about me when I was just another tool in his arsenal. But now I'm an uncontrollable variable." She shook her head. "There's no way he's not coming for me, I figured that I could try to make a profit off of the situation."
"You're trying to be the last one standing while everything around you falls."
"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "How rude of you to say such a thing, my ego is surely hurt."
"Fine, I'll protect you."
She raised her glass in a mock toast.
He didn't drink. But he nodded.
"Yea sure, we'll do this in a week."
"I know." She set her glass down. "Get some rest. You look like you might collapse at any moment."
"You don't care much about my well being do you?"
"You collapsing would be detrimental to me." She smiled.
He stood, his body protesting the movement. She didn't move to help him, just watched with those sharp blue eyes.
He walked back through the quiet corridors, through the gray afternoon light and the lingering scent of antiseptic.
He found Kira waiting outside the infirmary, her arms wrapped around herself, her blue eyes scanning the corridor with that familiar, anxious intensity. When she saw him, her face lit up.
"You're supposed to be resting."
"I had somewhere to go."
"The doctor said-"
"I just needed some air."
She sighed, but there was no real frustration in it. Just relief.