One step back, two steps forward

Author: Rain on your Back

Disclaimer: Shaman King belongs to Hiroyuki Takei and I am only playing around with his characters.

Rating : K+

This is part of the Shaman King Big Bang challenge from over there on tumblr!

Also Jeanne is a huge baby dork who knows nothing about how the world works. Don't feel offended by her childish way of thinking and remember that she is actually a child in this one, starting at seven years old or so. Here we go.

1996, somewhere in Italy

He could not believe his luck. Walking so soon into the one who had taken everything from them! But he couldn't go right away. First because his enemy was powerful, and, more importantly, because he was currently carrying a precious burden between his rough arms. The thin body of a child who would soon be their saint and star was abandoned there, sleeping; he couldn't have imagined such an encounter would take place and had meant to bring her back to Marco at their headquarters. The hothead was waiting for them there, with Hans, and a new recruit, Meene something… It didn't matter anymore, though. Because if he only could (because, as he would) defeat their enemy then and there, there would be no need for an Iron Maiden to be raised anymore, no need for X-Laws to exist, no need for suffering and anguish to spread. They would be avenged.

All of this years before the Shaman Fight even started.

The tall X-Law put down the frail body of his protégée behind a broken wall before stepping up on the large stone pavement of the ancient Roman temple. That way, she would be protected from the fight and any lost attacks. After one last look at the lithe child, he called Lucifel forth and jumped.

Luchist was smart, though maybe a little naïve and out-of-touch with the realities of what such a fight meant. He was smart, and strong, and less hot-tempered than his foster son.

That said, the fight in itself did not last very long.

When his burned, battered body slammed into the stone pillar, the tall priest momentarily lost consciousness. As he was slowly getting back in touch with reality, he found himself astonished. He was still alive. Still… alive…? Why ? His first thought was to look for his weapon, but then he notice dit from the corner of his eye, half-melted and smoking, stuck under the foot of the demon child. He was defenseless.

And yet not actually dead. Hao, despite having a clearly superior power, had not killed him. He wasn't burning, his bones were all still in place, he was barely even bleeding – why? It was almost like – like the fire master wanted to explain something. To teach Luchist a lesson.

All this while the omnyoji overcame and easily blew apart the supposedly all-powerful weapon of the X-Laws, their justice… To be able to destroy, and to save. How could that feel? Hao had done exactly that. As if to prove him his famous justice was not real. Not uniquely so, at the very least. As if to prove him that he, too… He too had…?

"Come with me."

The words echoed between the deserted ruins, easily erasing Luchist's ragged breaths from the audible landscape. Luchist had only heard a murmur, but it shook him with the strength of an order. His tone carried a power that rang disturbingly wrong, when attached to this small body of a boy.

Had they been happier after washing their hands in blood? What they had done was only give themselves an aim, an horizon – it didn't stop the suffering at all.

A family that must be grieving them. A family that, like Marco and himself, would want revenge one day…

Luchist suddenly understood that he would follow Hao.

There was only one problem left. Her. She was still tucked behind her wall, unconscious. Could he leave her there? How would Marco find her? No, they were in the middle of nowhere, his foster son wouldn't find her. She would be lost, and back on the streets, in the dust. Where they picked her up, she would be again. No, really, he couldn't leave her there, not when she trusted him. He had to do something, anything – but what?

"You can bring her, if you want."

Luchist raised his eyes. The small, brown-haired child had not turned back towards him – not even one second. He was still lost in the stars up above, with the same melancholy air that he had sported before the attack. He was waiting, calm and silent, a night dweller away from home.

So Luchist rose slowly, pushing back groans of pain down his throat, and limped over to the weary wall behind which he had left Jeanne. She was light as a paper doll, and despite his wounds he had no trouble gathering her into his arms, and enwrapping her with his heavy white cloak. She was not moving, still asleep, still abandoned to the priest with an absolute trust. Around her neck, the large, metallic 'X' of the X-Laws dangled, shimmering in the moonlight. For a moment, he wondered if she would understand, once awake. Probably not; he knew her well. So he decided not to think about it too much, and walked back to Hao.

Then, with the sleeping child cradled in his arms, he followed Hao. The fire master merely glanced at the slowly rocking head of she who was supposed to become the Iron Maiden, before looking back to the stars and calling his spirit.

The Shamans vanished into thin air.

On the next day

Marco… We'll be home tonight already, Father promised me. It's been two months since we were away… It's good to be home. I'm going to see you again, and meet the new recruit. Meene, I think that's her name? I really can't wait… And I'll see Hans and the Archangels again, too… Too bad we're going to arrive late. I suppose they'll all be sleeping by the time we get there. Lucifel is so completely bored, I can feel it. So am I, Luce, so am I. Hopefully Father won't fall asleep, other drives might take it badly. They'd worry about us… Marco was worried this morning. Signs of shamanic activities in our surroundings, was it? I have to be careful. It's so warm, though, I feel like I could fall right asleep… Uh… Wait?

She slowly batted her eyelids, taming the morning light as she stirred and stretched automatically. It was a warm and soft light, one her bad eyes appreciated. The young saint assumed she must have fallen asleep in Father Luchist's car… and they had got to the monastery sooner than expected. However, her memory self remembered the beds being way harsher to her body than this one seemed to be…

Jeanne sat up, suddenly distressed. The soft, glowing light came from the walls of a tent. A tent. She was definitely not at the monastery. Nervous, she raised a hand to lightly graze her pendant, the one Marco had given her, the one with the symbol of her group. It helped her ground herself.

"Father Luchist?"

No answer.

Perplex, she rubbed the sleep off her eyes, looking vaguely for an answer to her questions. The tent in itself was not very big – not in comparison with how she imagined a tent would be – but it was about the size of a twin cell back in the monastery. There was room for two or three people sleeping and living in here. And, in fact, there was another bed at the opposite end of the room. Both were of a small size – perfect for her, and for teenagers she supposed, but in no way an adult would fit in here. Where could such a setting be? Were they in a refugee camp? Was she with a girl her age, maybe? That could be nice. She hadn't been with many people her age.

Wait, no. On top of the other bunk bed were more-or-less neatly folded clothes, clothes that had to belong to a man since she could see an errant pant leg. She had slept in the same room as a – no. Shaking her head, she did her best not to think of it. There was no way Father Luchist would have allowed such a thing. Plus, nothing had happened to her, had it? Had it? Uneasily swallowing, she rose to her feet, determined to find out the truth. Maybe – surely – this was all a joke. A joke of bad taste, but a joke nonetheless.

She finally stepped outside, and had to shield her eyes from the violent sun at first. Ouch, she didn't expect it to sting so bad, she really needed to get another appointment with the doctor Marco had found for her… While she was trying to work out where she was with watery eyes, a red hurricane literally slammed into her. The young albino fell, bottom first, in the sand.

"Ah - !"

The child drew a hand over her forehead, dazed.

"Couldn't you watch where you were going?
- S-sorry," she answered, almost automatically. The indignant tone her assailant had used threw her way off. Looking up, she detailed the girl behind the voice. Because it… was a girl, she was pretty sure. A young girl her age, in fact, with short frizzly hair tied up in wild ponytails and striking purple-ish eyes, who was currently dusting herself off. Her clothes were surprising, too: on top of a white tee-shirt, she was wearing black dungarees… like a boy would… Also, she held in her hand a dark wooden broom. That was surprising too. And the lanky, slightly frightening ghost that stood in her shadow was surprising too, to some smaller extent.

Then the redhead cocked her head, and seemed to remember something. "You're… you're the girl who came with the priest, right?
- Ah! So Father Luchist is here!"

That reassured her. If the Father was here, then everything was fine. He might have wanted to stop at this place… maybe a homeless camp or something? The girl in front of her didn't even have the luck to get real girl clothes. Plus as she looked around, she could only see tents made of fabric, nothing solid. Eh… Getting back to her feet, Jeanne shook the dust off her white dress, while the other girl was trying to decipher something.

"He's your dad? Seems old."

Blushing at the idea, the albino shook her head: "Ah, no – it's…
- Matters not," was the redhead's curt answer. She seemed to have decided on something. "You should go and see Hao-sama first.
- Hao…?"

But her new acquaintance was already gone. Jeanne decided she must have misheard. The other girl was speaking in a strange English – Scottish, maybe? – and Jeanne was already having trouble when speaking normal English… By the way… Yes, they had spoken in English, not Italian. Weird… Shaking the uneasy feeling off, she began wandering in between the tents, hoping to find the Father behind one of them. The tents did look weary. Not one looked the same, they were all sewn together from differently colored pieces of fabric, probably to repair holes and tears… She was not used to that kind of feeling. Sudden shouts got her attention.

"It's an X-Law !
- Hao-sama, what is he doing here ?"

Other voices joined the chorus, some in languages Jeanne didn't understand. It seemed like there were all kinds of people in here… And… They knew the X-Laws? Why did the voice who mentioned them sound so angry? She slowly walked closer, a bit nervous. From behind a tent, she finally caught sight of a large group around Luchist, whose elegant coat had been tugged back, revealing the top of his tattoo.

Among the crowd, she noticed first a tall teenager with blue hair, a smoke in her hand and a defiant air, and then an adult with long, blond hair. He looked like the pictures in the books of the monastery… The ones showing devils and demons. Frowning, she shifted her gaze, and found the orange-haired girl she had stumbled upon sooner, standing in between the priest and a blonde girl, as if to protect her. In front of them all, close to Luchist, there was a teenage girl with long, shining brown hair. She had a smirk on her face and… what? She had been mistaken, he was definitely a boy, and a half-naked boy at that! Didn't that person know anything about decency? Mortified, Jeanne brought her hands over her face. He did have pants, but the part above the waist was completely naked… Who would ever think of dressing like that?

"Don't worry, everyone," began a voice with quite the feminine pitch, in English, "everything's fine. Our friend here is from now on one of us, whatever his past allegiances were. Given his power and experience, he will be a precious ally and I will not have him attacked. By the way, he will help the weaker ones with their training, so don't rub him the wrong way."

Jeanne ever so slightly moved her fingers, hoping to localize the girl who had just talked and seemed to be the leader… Only to recognize the bad-mannered boy with girly hair. He was speaking with a gentle grin, but his voice had something… something like authority, despite its high-pitched and decidedly feminine (what WAS this boy?) undertones. It commanded obedience, and maybe respect. Except she could not respect a half-naked boy. She got her hands down, slowly, setting her gaze anywhere but on the naked bits.

"By the way," he continued, "he didn't come alone."

At this moment, he turned towards her, and instinctively she took a step back as their gazes met. In this frank light, his eyes seemed pitch black…

"I'm counting on all of you, do welcome Luchist and mademoiselle Jeanne warmly. Luchist's initiation will take place later in the month – maybe week, depending – and for her, we'll see later.
- Yes, Hao-sama," was the ensuing cry.

This time, she had heard correctly – heard, but not understood. It was completely out of question. Illogical, Father Luchist would say. It had to be a nightmare – or maybe she had collided with a wall somehow and had been knocked out cold – or…

She didn't think further, taking instead the chance to run back towards the tent. She hadn't taken a good look at it while going out, but she could not mistake it for one of the others; it was isolated, and a heavy pile of wood logs almost barred its entrance, probably to make campfires. So, she had no problem, even running blindly, to get back in and barricade herself there. To hell with politeness, this was a next-level apocalypse she was going through.

« Jeanne, come out of there. »

No answer. The dark-haired man sighed. His hand on the door of the tent, he waited some more for the girl's answer, which came in a whisper:

"No. I'm going to wake up, I just need to wake up and everything will be normal again, everything will be okay again.
- Let me in, at least.
- …"

The priest took her silence as a sign of assent, and snuck inside the room before putting the barricading objects back where they belonged. The little girl he was responsible of was sitting, huddled, in a corner, and hit her head in regular intervals against one of the wooden legs of her bed. She had taken her pendant out and was clutching it between her hands. "Jeanne.
- This is nothing but a nightmare. A nightmare, that's it," she was telling herself, over and over.

The man crouched slowly, as if to show her she was not in danger. A grey gaze looked for her crimson one, without having the luck to find it. He kept silent, as if looking for an explanation, before finally deciding on: "It's not a dream."

The small silver-haired child threw a confused, unsure stare towards the priest. "I'm not sure I understand. This man, outside, it was Hao," she hesitantly asserted, her hands trembling in her lap.

"Yes," he answered simply, without developing at all. That made her frown, she continued: "The Destroyer, the person you and Marco wanted dead at all costs, that I was destined to kill with the help of the Iron Maiden."

"Yes."

Another troubled silence. Jeanne swallowed uneasily. « Then I really don't understand. What are we doing here? Have we been captured?"

She watched as he, usually so confident and so gifted with words, struggled to answer. His worried frown, his way of raising a hand to the Holy Book concealed in his breast pocket… It was her dear Father, and at the same time, someone else, someone who could utter these words with a straight face: "No. I faced Hao last night, Jeanne, and he made me understand we were wrong.
- We?" She repeated, unwilling to understand. He blinked and went on, with more assurance: "Hao-sama is not a demon. The X-Laws' justice… is blind, and a mere travesty of what 'justice' should be. Marco and I… we were wrong, and what we did to you was wrong.
- What you did to me?"

This time, an energy wave coming from the young girl shook the tent, hitting the priest – though without hurting him at all. Her eyes shone with furyoku as she shook her head and repeated:

"I don't understand. You were talking to God, Father. How could He be wrong? He wouldn't change his mind on a person. If it's that person who made you change your opinion, then he's the one who deluded you, and he's as much of a demon as we thought."

He offered her a blank look. He had to recognize these words, Jeanne was sure he had to. They were his, after all. His and Marco's. She wanted to believe using them would wake him up, make him realize how ridiculous he was showing himself. He would recognize them, and wake up, and go back to the Father Luchist she knew and trusted…

"Jeanne…
- Hey, old man," growled a sandpapery voice from outside of the tent, "you're supposed to be my punching ball this afternoon, so hurry up and get your ass here! And the girl should get out, too. If Hao-sama wants to rest, he won't stop to coddle her pitiful feelings. The little princess might see something shocking….
- I'm coming," he cut her short. Though, he remained where he was for a little while yet, staring wordlessly at the child. Then he patted her cheek. "You'll get it, in time," he whispered. "Get to know the others. We'll be here for a long while, I'm afraid." There was an apologetic smile she cared not to acknowledge, and then he was gone. Her Father was gone.

Jeanne was alone. She clutched her necklace tighter, and allowed herself to sob a little.

Several hours came and went before she finally decided on getting out of the tent, without a real plan in head. She was in enemy territory. Without the spirit she usually fought with – though they had never really clicked and become friends, else he would be here with her – she had no chance of ever getting out.

That was when the orange tornado she had already had the luck (or lack thereof? It was still hard to decide) to meet ran up to her side. She was tugging behind her a smaller girl, with long, beautiful blond hair. She looked like the porcelain dolls Marco showed her once… This first impression was only strengthened by the black, frilly dress she sported, and its matching bows. A little, bored pout completed the picture. Jeanne would never have thought such a person could exist in real life…

Ah, the redhead was talking to her!

"Okay, Hao-sama asked us to introduce ourselves and to explain to you some things, so here goes. I'm Mathilda, this is Marion. She doesn't talk much, but if you annoy her, I'll destroy you." The pace at which she talked was certainly… impressive. More impressive yet was that Jeanne understood it all, given the thick accent and lack of application. "The girl you saw earlier, the one who's training with your father, it's Kanna. She spends her time smoking and brooding, and don't go around annoying her either, she doesn't like kids much."

Jeanne, slightly dizzy from absorbing all this information, tried to correct the redhead : « Father Luchist is not my fa-
- Yeah, yeah, I got it," was the other's short, uncaring answer. She didn't like being interrupted, apparently. "So, what's your name?"

Blink. She answered automatically: "Jeanne.
- Jeanne from where ?
- T-the Mont Saint-Michel, in France," she offered, perplex as to the why of this interrogation. "And where's your spirit?"

She hesitated. "I-I don't have one. We didn't – the right spirit hasn't come along yet, and the one I use for training wasn't with us when Luchist…"

The petite blond girl raised her eyes to glance at Jeanne for the first time. It felt… strange. Like she was translucent and the other girl stared right through her. "… Mari's bored.
- Don't worry, Mari, we're going right now," answered Mathilda in a hurry before dragging her by the hand towards what Jeanne assumed were the training grounds. "And you – " she looked back – "you better prove you're a Shaman, and quick… or else."

Jeanne frowned, confused. The little blond girl's accent… it reminded her of something… Oh! It reminded her of Marco's… Was she, by chance, Italian? How many nationalities mingled in this camp? But she didn't have time to go further in her thought track.

"So you don't even have a Guardian Spirit," came a voice from behind her. She spun around, stiffening. It was the brown-haired boy that ruled those people… And he still hadn't found something to get dressed with ! She found herself reddening in spite of herself, and looked away.

"Hao," she whispered, without actually realizing who she had in front of her. This was the monster she was supposed to destroy? He was a mere child! Thin and even sick-looking – how could he even be dangerous? But… The devil was quite good at deluding people, Father Luchist had once said – and the very same Father had fallen victim to that devilish man's charms – she had to be on guard. "Am I this charming to you?" The fire Shaman was having quite a good time too apparently, mocking her silence with a large grin.

"N-no. But I will not suffer such indecency, » she said, making sure to pronounce each foreign word firmly. "Please get dressed.
- Oh, that's what's embarrassing to you," he smiled. Jeanne blinked. Had he – had he switched to French? He could speak French ? "Don't worry, you're too small to gobble up." Slowly, with a hunting beast's prowl, he started circling her. She was one of his now after all, he had to get a sense of what she was. And what she was… well, it was tiny, probably slow and weak. Sigh. Maybe she wouldn't remain in his ranks for long.

She kept still and tense, refraining from looking at him from over her shoulder as she asked tonelessly: "What did you do to Father Luchist?"

There was a silence, as if he wondered whether he should feel offended and punish the responsible party. Then he stepped back towards her, with a large, contemptuous smile on his lips.

"Direct and honest… That's going to be new," he finally smiled, his inspection tour seemingly finished. He had switched back to English. Perplex and feeling, confusedly, the threat he represented, she asked again, with a poorly managed voice: "Answer me!" And it seemed to surprise him again. He blinked, his head leaning on the side… before grinning maliciously. "Why should I?"

His eyes seemed to have been set ablaze suddenly, and the young girl was hit with an energy wave that sent her to the ground for the second time that day, blown over by the brunette's strength. As she struggled to get back to her feet, she felt her attacker grab her wrists and get her back up. "I am going to be very, very direct with you too, mademoiselle." His voice had turned to a velvety hiss as he uttered the French words. "Here, you are insignificant, and I could turn you to dust with a wink. So you should seriously work on your tone and your demands," he had switched back to English, the threat completely gone from his tone. "As for Luchist, who you should call by name now that he left behind his pretend religion, he followed me purely because he wanted to, and brought you along out of kindness. Be grateful." He then let go of her, started to leave, stopped. "By the way, as long as you'll prance about without a Guardian Spirit, no one's going to respect you. Try to get one quickly – but don't get out of the camp, people would worry," he warned, words laced with irony, before leaving her behind. Jeanne's hand balled into fists.

It was approximately six when the now former priest looked anew for his little protégée. He found her on one of the lone benches, sitting properly and focusing her energy around her. Silver mists curled around her protectively. She had fallen back on her training, and didn't seem to be in denial anymore to anyone who didn't have access to her thoughts. Maybe he thought she was getting around to the idea. She certainly wasn't. "Jeanne," he interrupted in a murmur. She opened her eyes, and he caught a white flash before her irises turned back to the normal crimson. "It's dinner time," he explained. She got on her feet, behavior almost screaming of defiance. Her soft features were warped into a scornful grimace.

"Do you hate me now?" She wasn't sure why he asked. Wasn't it obvious?

"You are a traitor to the cause. By bringing me with you, you only added to your sins," she replied, the words coming almost naturally to her tongue. It was easy using those. It was easy to fall into this line of thoughts, and she saw no reason not to.

He sighed and turned heels, presumably towards the place they ate at. It wasn't hard for him to guess, she realized that as she had been starved for a whole day now, and as she had nowhere else to go, she would soon follow. And soon enough, indeed, her feet delicately echoed behind his, bringing (she was sure, she knew him enough to) a pale smile to his lips.

"Ah, you're there," Hao's lazy voice reached her as he rose to greet them. "Time to do the official introductions, then. So, everyone, here are our two new recruits, Luchist Lasso, 56000 furyoku points, who uses the Archangel Lucifel which some of you have already fought this afternoon, and Jeanne Lasso, 198000 points, but no set Guardian Spirit as of now," he said, openly mocking her. She was ready to bare her teeth at him, but he went on, ignoring her: "You already know the girls and Boris, I believe, but as of tonight, only Kouji and Blocken have gotten back from their missions… Luchist, you'll mostly work with Kouji and Kanna as of now." The… the person? The person Jeanne had previously taken for a small strange Lego doll sitting next to the vampire-y Boris nodded curtly. "Take a seat, and welcome."

Father Luchist – Father Lasso now, she decided, familiarity with a traitor wouldn't do – sat in between… Boris, was it? And Kanna, who seemingly refused to look at him – it had to do with the afternoon training, Jeanne decided after a while. As far as she was concerned, the only seat she was offered was on Mathilda's side, in front of Blocken. The strange Shaman managed his Lego body with surprising dexterity, and Jeanne forgot herself to stare at him. How was he even eating…? A under-the-table kick from Kanna brought her back to her senses, and she got a mocking look from Hao.

After this incident, the meal remained mostly calm, and way too soon she found herself back in front of the demon's tent. Said demon, who had led the way, sat down with a sigh of bliss in front of the wood pile. "Luchist is too tall to get in those beds, as you might have noticed," he commented with obvious enjoyment. "The other tents are full, plus I quite like having an eye on you. You're going to share my tent tonight, and maybe some more time, princess." He laughed in her face. "Mari left some clothes for you, go check it out."

He took some branches from the pile and she waited, still quite embarrassed and hesitating, for him to take out a match, but he only had to touch the wood for a long, sinister flame to hiss into existence. Jeanne started, surprised, and he turned to her with a mocking smile. "Can you undress on your own, or do you need my help?"

She felt her cheeks heat up terribly and ran inside, checking thrice whether anyone could see her before unbuttoning her dress. The pajamas left by Marion – the blond girl, Jeanne remembered, she had to keep a close track of this group now, her survival depended on it – were surprisingly perfect for her small frame, though maybe a bit… black for her liking. Ah, well, there were more dire things to think about. Like how was she going to survive more than two days if there was nowhere to change but in the middle of a room inhabited by evil itself.

A few moments later, while the albino silently pondered the meaning of the recent events (was it real, in the end? Or was it a dream? Please, make it a dream), she heard her Nemesis come into the room. She, lying on a beaten-up camp bed, stared at him for a while. He had a smile, "You might want to look away." Without any concern for her purity, he then began to disrobe, getting his gloves and heavy shoes out of the way. "You might learn things you don't want to know." Crimson, she quickly obeyed, though she had decided to give him as hard as a time as humanly possible. But looking away – in reality, turning away and sinking under her covers – did not hide the sounds of him getting out of his pants and… putting nothing else on? God, why was this to be her fate? She definitely was going to rid the Earth of this foul beast. "I cannot wait to see you in action," he whispered while climbing into his own bed. "Goodnight, little Maiden."

Her red irises widened at the audacity of the nickname. It was the last straw. She wanted to find a good retort, but he snapped his fingers, and suddenly the dim glow that filled the tent was replaced with opaque darkness. She let a moment pass. Then, despite not being able to see her own hands, she chanced a glimpse at the dark-haired Shaman. "Don't even think of trying to kill me," he said softly, gently. "You'd be dead before even touching my bed." Jeanne rolled over, staring at him through the obscurity. She couldn't see anything, but still she stared, undaunted. "I am not scared of you."

He had a laugh, one that lasted a while.

"You definitely should be."

Sheets shifting, then metallic objects tinkling while he got dressed. She cautiously opened an eyelid and, when her eyes stopped burning from the light's vicious attack, she watched as he threw a poncho over his shoulder and put on earrings – seriously? Earrings? Was he really a boy, or… In her semi-conscious state, the young girl almost asked out loud why she was sleeping in one of the men dormitories of the monastery, but something – an happy something, she would think a few moments later – stopped her from doing so.

Thusly woken at dawn, in part because of her tent-mate had woken before the sun, but also because she had slept most of the previous day away, Jeanne sat up and stretched. For a while, she failed to understand why she was not in the abbey rather than a mere tent, but then reality surfaced in her brain, and she sighed. She was truly, for better and more so for worse, in the camp and in the tent of the one person she had been tasked to kill. Which… could be a good thing, if she had finished her training beforehand, and had had at least a Guardian Spirit with her, which wasn't the case. The Lord's trials decidedly deserved both their name and their reputation.

Sighing, she looked down at the pile of clothes left for her. She had already rummaged through it the day before, and it hadn't made her very happy. The two girls had surely made a mistake: some of those clothes left for her were clearly for a young boy. Pants, shorts, overalls… When she thought about it, Mathilda wore a similar pair the day before. And Kanna… Yes, Kanna, she also wore strange, not-decent clothes. Did they find it normal here, to dress up like boys? It was so innapropriate… Upset, she took a light blouse and a matching skirt – not really long enough for her liking, but that was one of the only ones she found acceptable. She fished her necklace from her neatly-folded clothes pile and stared at it for a moment. The sweet nothing shone in the morning light, and she muttered a prayer to her God before putting it under her blouse. No way she would let Hao's people touch it, they would surely mock her…

Looking around, she found herself growing more uneasy by the second. It was obvious Hao was used to having the whole room for himself, and didn't mean to let her put an end to that. His stuff (… she wasn't about to poke around and try to detail said stuff) was everywhere, under her bed, on the small pliable shelf at the end of the tent… Everywhere. There wasn't even a screen to separate the two halves of the room, or even to get some privacy when she clothed herself. Bad. She would need to find something to do that. Or ask someone, but the idea didn't please her that much, as it implied asking things of this strange and violent and evil group.

After some more looking through the bag left by the girls, she finally found a comb and winced. It was a small one, one that would find every tiny lock in her tousled hair. With such a tool, she would be spending hours on every strand or tear half of it away… Sigh. She walked out of the tent, cautiously combing through her front bangs to try and untangle at least some of them. At this point, paying attention to her surroundings was not in the realm of her possibilities, and she was walking already when a large hand fell on her shoulder, stopping her right in her tracks. She blinked. Said hand was at least twice as big as her face.

A raspy, threatening voice boomed from above as she turned. "And who would you happen to be?"

The albino glanced upwards. And had to glance even more upwards to finally see who was talking to her – well, to see what she was allowed to see. The tall, tall (and large) man in front of her had over half of his face hidden by a large sport helmet. His large (oh so large, she thought this was only possible in cartoons) arms were crossed over his naked chest – what did they have against clothes here? He had obviously been the one to talk sooner, and he continued with the lowest voice Jeanne had ever heard: "Why are you here? You're not one of us – and you don't even have a Guardian Spirit, or so it seems."

The sheer size of his fingers gave her the right to frown and gulp a little, especially as he made them emit loud cracking sounds. She took advantage of the fact that he had let go of her to step back a little, in order to be able to react if he attacked… But the back of her head collided with something supple and lukewarm. The colossal man wasn't alone. She meant to turn around, but the sports-themed man in front of her had something else in mind. "Aren't you an X-Law spy? You remind me of something… And here I thought I got rid of the last one yesterday…"

This sentence made her froze. What was he saying? Eliminated? And what did he mean with 'the last one'? It wasn't a possibility. Marco was stronger than anyone, and there was the new girl he'd talked so much about on the phone, they couldn't have been… She found the strength to whisper, shocked: "W-what?
- Come on, Bill," commented a rough voice from behind her while she was pushed against a tent. She whirled around to see another gigantic man. This one was Asian, with a large red tattoo that was right on her eye level. Try as she might, she didn't get to see his eyes either; they were hidden behind small, dark glasses. He towered above her, and his grin reminded her of a shark's. Creepy, was the vibe she got. "We only got one yesterday," went on Mr. Creepy, "a tall blond guy – these insects will live on for a while yet, you can believe me."

Jeanne swallowed. He was playing around with a large, golden gong that housed a translucent, black and white bear. Strange thing… Then she finally understood what he had just said, and repeated: "A-a tall blond…?
- Yeah, girlie, a tall tanned blond guy with big grey eyes. Begged a lot, too," he added with a satisfied air.

Tanned. Grey eyes. Not pale with blue eyes. It… It wasn't Marco. It was someone else. Marco was alive, safe and sound, he was alive here in Italy, with Hans and Meene and maybe others now. She felt horrible, being happy it hadn't been the man she felt closest to that had been killed, but she couldn't help it. Her heart tore at the thought. It had been one of hers that was killed. But… Marco was okay. If he wasn't… If something befell him, she wasn't sure what she'd do.

"Still," the large American frowned, with a grin that sovereignly distressed Jeanne, "it's really the precious saint of the X-Laws, I remember her now. Hao-sama will be very happy to get a new soul, I'm sure."

Jeanne blinked, grimacing, and with no warning there was a wall of big, hunky men wearing sport helmets. Who were closing in on her.

Only to get blown back to the ground by a furyoku wave that even Jeanne didn't really see coming. She was working on instinct at the moment, and it worried her how much furyoku those waves took from her… With a slight stutter, her words followed her attack, uttered with what pride she could muster. "Don't get any closer."

But it only made "Bill" (that was the name the other had used, right?) more annoyed and he jumped back on his feet, determined to make minced albino for dinner – which, of course, didn't really please said albino. "You –
- Calm down, Bill." Another voice, more high-pitched. Jeanne spun around. "Newbies are sensitive, you wouldn't want to make a bad impression on her when she's stronger than you."

Hao, of course. His arrogant lips were twisted into an ironic, unbearable smile as far as the young girl was concerned. "Since you're here, little Maiden," he went on, "let's introduce you to two of you new playmates: Big Guy Bill, or Bill if he lets you, and Han Zang-Ching. Han is in charge of the food supplies when I'm not around, so I wouldn't mess with him. As all of your teammates, both have seniority over you, so you will respect them, right?" Bright, hit-me-in-the-face smile. "Could you guys bring her to the training grounds? I'm sure Matti will be able to make something out of her, since she seems to manage her ghost-deprived technique. Bill, I know you won't like it, but you'll lend her one of your friends. I'm sure the end result will be quite interesting."

Interesting wasn't the word she would have used. The lone spirit Bill had given to her was not very bright nor strong, and it didn't help that he was constantly complaining and refused to obey his Shaman. Who, despite her great (great!) patience, was beginning to feel him get on her nerves. Also, her Nemesis' mocking was getting grating. "Two hundred and fifty thousand points of furyoku, and we're not able to master a ghost with less than a hundred points of reyroku…"

As if it was a matter of mastery. The problem the young girl was having had more to do with the weakness of the spirit, who was completely unable to resist Jack's blows more than a quarter of a second. She could do lots of small Over-Souls, ones that gave her a large shield and powered-up fists, but none of them managed to touch her opponent – which would make for a long but fruitless fight.

Jeanne took a first hit, which made her Over-Soul shatter. It was too weak, and too slow. Right away she created a new one, without listening to her ghost's whining, and stepped back to try and watch the redhead's spirit better. But Bill's teammate was way weaker than Jack – so she had gathered was the spirit's name, and she was forced to counter when she kept seeing the large openings in her opponent's guard.

If this kept up, she would amount to nothing. Her medium shone dimly around her neck, the iron from the necklace being the only thing she could imagine using – another hit threw her off her balance, a third forced her to back off again. The young girl had to find a solution, quickly, and not only to avoid humiliation. She could see pretty well what Jack could do if Hao ordered Mathilda to finish her off.

Another violent slash, another broken Over-Soul. This time, she wouldn't get the second she needed to create a new one, and…

A white wave shook the area. Bill's ghost vanished, thrown away by his temporary Shaman, while she instinctively chose the spirit most likely to get her out of this situation. Luchist didn't immediately get it; but soon his eyes widened, as he witnessed an angelic spirit suddenly rise behind Jeanne. Incredulous, he patted his holster, looking for Lucifel – but he wasn't the one in control of the spirit anymore.

"Over-Soul : Lucifer in Light Bringer."

Around her neck, the X-Law necklace she wore began to shimmer. It was nothing fancy for a medium, merely a chunk of iron Marco had given her – but, as it was a chunk of iron Marco had given her, it was the closest to a perfect medium for the young girl. Especially as the gigantic Over-Soul that resulted would more than make up for the redhead's speed. The downside was, of course, the large quantity of energy he demanded, but Jeanne winced and held on. She would show them all, Guardian Spirit or not. Under her hand, Lucifel shone white, and carried her effortlessly up in the sky, way above the murderous Mathilda – and then his wings fluttered, and his sword broke Jack's enhanced form.

"Enough, Macchi. Mari, you go," Hao's voice carried surprisingly well over the training grounds, all the way to Jeanne up in the sky. She glanced at him, frowned. His attitude – chin resting on palm, lazy smirk, amused expression – rubbed her completely the wrong way.

The young blond girl, who had just nodded silently, drew her doll to shoulder height, and whispered, "Chuck, Cross Fire." And Jeanne had the displeasure to see it raise its twin pistols and fire at her. Frowning, she cut their trajectory with the Archangel's help, not very sure as to why they were using such deadly attacks for what was supposed to be training. Oh, who was she kidding? This wasn't training. This was a trial. And if she failed… she had a pretty clear idea of what would happen then.

"Kanna." The albino felt the presence of the third ghost behind her not a second later. Not wanting to show her back to Marion, she ordered Lucifel to fly higher and decided to go for the oldest girl's spirit. It looked like a… dark knight? Her angel fell above him while Jeanne rolled to the ground, out of sight of Marion.

A backhand slap threw Kanna's spirit back towards Chuck and Marion. Kanna dissipated her Over-Soul, so it wouldn't crash on her teammate while said teammate prepared a new spell. There were words whispered, and the blonde girl was suddenly way too close for comfort, sneaking behind Lucifel to attack his Shaman directly. Jeanne blinked, way too aware of what four bullets coming from such a short distance away could do – but also glad she had managed to get her hands on Lucifel. The angel vanished to reappear right before her, blocking the shots.

"Enough, girls." Hao's shrill voice came again, and surprisingly it brought Jeanne relief. For a while she waited, keeping Lucifel under close watch were there some other attack, before twirling around to meet the fire shaman's gaze.

"Do you plan on making me fight your entire group?"

The young girl, head held high, stared at the omnyôji, unafraid of his staring back (or unwilling to appear afraid). He smiled. She was proud, that much was a given. Probably irrationally so. Luchist didn't move, a hand on his weapon, eyes traveling from one high-level Shaman to another. In the end, Hao broke the stare fight first, and chuckled softly as he glanced at the sky. He then mockingly bowed towards Jeanne. "Well done, well done," he acknowledged peacefully, still smiling. Unnerving, that was what he was. "Luchist did good, bringing you here. You're sure to have your use soon.
- I won't ever fight for you," she very nearly spit at him. Her hair was tousled from the battle, her face pale – she might not be appearing as her best, was her sullen realization. She seemed to amuse him a lot, a lot more than she herself wanted to. She was a big girl. Being eight didn't mean he could toy with her like he would with a toy. And yet, when he spoke again, his tone was that of an older brother gently scolding a younger sibling: "Don't be so hasty. Rushed judgments only do disservices to the ones making them." He rose to his feet. "This was a good fight. Kanna, work on your speed. Macchi, Mari, keep on the good work. Now get back to your duties – the grounds remain open to those who want to train some more."

And then he turned away, and left. Jeanne drew a hand to her necklace, gripping the iron tightly as Lucifel flew back to his rightful master. If the young girl needed any sort of confirmation, this was it: she was not at all safe in here.

That night, the dinner was a joyful racket.

Jeanne was terribly perplexed. It did look like some sort of weird dream, with plenty of colors and unexpected events. She had to poke herself in the arm a few times to make sure she was actually awake, and even then, she wasn't sure. The newcomers were just as flamboyant and unique (which wasn't a good word in her mouth) as the others, if not more. There was a young loud boy, called Ashiru (Ashil? Achille? She wasn't sure, with how the others pronounced it), whose first move was to gravitate close to Hao to tell him what Jeanne felt was completely unnecessary. He was thin, scarily bony to be true to her impression. But hey, she wasn't about to comment on any of that. Of all the others, he was also the one to make the least notice of her and Luchist, which… was rather a relief for the young albino. Then there were teenagers. Two of them, who looked strangely alike. Brothers? She wasn't sure. She had caught a name – the Boz – but no first names, and no way to address them. They sure were weird, and, like Kanna, they barely looked eighteen. Then there were the two strangest: a young man dressed all in pale fabric, which covered him from head to toe – Mathilda had shouted something like "Turbein" when she jumped to greet him – and a tall, colorful man, also covered from head to toe, but who swung a small… guitar? maybe? around, as if to knock out people in his wake. And he had strange goggles. And she'd heard someone refer to him as 'Peyote' and it sounded strangely vulgar to her.

It was a lot to take in all at once.

Luchist was decidedly the oldest around the table, while Marion and her were probably the youngest, before Mathilda, Ashiru (Achiru?) and Hao himself. It was strange, looking at all these different people, dressed in different fashions and coming from all over the world. What could tie them all together…?

Well, she soon saw that they weren't, exactly, tied together.

One of the two monks, Ryou she decided on Mathilda's screams, had grabbed an hairtie as she leaned over to get the water bottle, and undid her pigtail, which… made her explode. The redhead jumped to her feet, crimson red, and leaped over the table to threaten the young man of apparently terrible things if he did not immediately give back her hairtie. While she had her attention stuck on the first one – Ryou, decidedly – the other one took care of her other pigtail. The child turned around, her long hair flying in the first teen's face as she shouted at his brother (friend?). Jeanne frowned. All the self-confidence the redhead seemed to possess had melted with her hairties.

The color-clad man – Peyote, yes, that had to be his name – ended up the game by violently bringing down his glass on the table and hitting the head of the Bowz closest to him. After a short talk in what she assumed was Spanish, the two teens gave back the hairties to Mathilda with their apologies. Said Mathilda put them back quickly before going back to her seat, thanking her savior on the way there. Bill, who seemed to have recognized one of the words in Spanish, growled and raised his fist towards the Mexican.

The musician didn't seem to get the hint. He took his strange violin (was it a violin? It was bigger, and the sounds were less… way less refined than a violin's) out and strummed a tune on it, followed by the two dark-dressed teenagers, to Bill's great displeasure apparently, as he rose to his feet. His large shadow towered over the table, and the albino wondered if it wouldn't have been wiser to stop them… But she was the only one watching them, apparently. Hao was in a great discussion with the young Turbein guy, and the others were… trying to decide on whom to bet, were a fight to break out… Luchist was observing the situation with the calculating look Jeanne knew him, and she wondered once again what they were doing in this place. As she wasn't managing to catch the priest's attention, she sighed and inched away from Peyote and Bill – their murderous looks didn't really make her feel at home, for some reason. Instead, she tried listening to the fire Shaman's conversation. Of course, it wasn't very polite to eavesdrop on a private conversation – but given how this group seemed to not function and how her situation seemed to unfold, she estimated knowing too much would be better than knowing too little.

"… Iraq, are you sure ? It's certainly an interesting place, shamanism-wise. No wonder powerful contestants would hide there waiting for the tournament.
- The one I found would be a young woman, in her thirties, with a really high furyoku, three hundred thousand at the very least. She has an Indian spirit and quite the team, too.
- Perfect…" Suddenly the young brunette twirled to meet her gaze, his head cocked and a merciful smirk on his face. "I must say I was not ready for such an incorrect behavior from the little saint of the X-Laws…"

Said 'saint' jumped a little, then tried to evacuate the embarrasment by pointing to the open brawl on the other end of the bench. It was getting quite dangerous for the table and what was resting on it, too. "Shouldn't someone stop them?"

The fire Shaman glanced at them and laughed softly, before calling up to them, which… incredibly had an immediate effect, as they stopped fighting to listen to him: "Bill, Peyote, please. Learn how to behave, we have a princess with us."

This time she couldn't keep herself from blushing, mortified, before throwing a dark look at the young Japanese boy, who had provoked the hilarity of the whole table, at her expense. Again.

When everyone was more or less full – which, concerning Bill and Zang-Ching, was seemingly impossible – Jeanne was again surprised by the crowd that appeared around the fire Shaman. She had seen it the day before, but it was even more obvious with the group being complete. He left the table, and they followed, and she followed, until they all were sitting around the fire in front of his tent. Ashiru spoke for a second with Marion to get her seat on his master's side, and the group went on with the dinner's discussions. Darkness came slowly, and the talks shifted to gravitate around the starry sky. Which… probably had something to do with the way Hao stared up at them since the beginning.

It took about an hour for the youngest to fall asleep. Marion sank against Turbein without a word, while Mathilda made sure Kanna would keep her safe from the Boz' pranks before closing her eyes, on the other side of the young man. Jeanne herself was weakening, but tried to stay upright. She didn't trust any of these people, adults or not, and was not about to lower her guard. But staying awake was growing harder and harder…

It was at that point that the leader of said assembly, his eyes still lost in the light-stained sky, spoke out words that would change the unwilling recruit's future for ever, be it with or against her assent:

"We're leaving tomorrow."

Bagdad, he said. Iraq. If she remembered her (few, too few to be of help) geography lessons, it was in the Middle East. Hundreds, thousands of miles from Italy, from home, from Marco. Up until now, there was still the faint hope she would be able to find or run to the blondie again; once there (how did Hao even plan to take his group there? By plane? Could they maybe be arrested? If so, could she flee and find Marco?), it would be very simply impossible. She would be stuck with Hao and his group forever... If she planned on leaving alone (on foot...) this would be her last chance. But hadn't she decided to continue her mission? If she left Luchist behind...

She wanted to talk him out of it, had wanted all evening, had wanted it when the grossly loud laughs rumbled from around the table, when he had risen and turned his back to her, when Hao mockingly bowed before her to let her scramble inside the tent and change there, but not one second was attention paid to her by the black-haired priest. He wanted to stay, that much was obvious. He had been deluded completely. He was so different from her dear Father...

Staying. Could she do that?

The day she had just spent in this place proved, if it was in any way needed, that she wasn't safe. Without a Guardian Spirit of good qualiber, without a Guardian of any sorts in fact (Luchist had lost that title in her mind, replaced by a terrible traitor), she was left in those brutes' clutches.

"Stop thinking so terribly loud, child, I can't sleep with such noise. Also gratuitous nagging will only take you so far."

After a moment of surprise - he was still awake? She hadn't realized - she rolled in her bed to face him, a skeptical look plastered over her face. She still couldn't see him, but sufficed with his general direction. "Why - how was I making any noise?" She had been lying flat on her bed for at least half an hour...?

He sighed, and in the dark she gathered from dim spots and slow ruffles that he was brushing hair back from his face. "The X-Laws seem to be even less good at hunting information than I thought. Though I should have guessed Leichi isn't a thing your people can even begin to imagine.

- Leichi?" She frowned, deeply puzzled. How... Did she even go about spelling that? Maybe she hadn't caught the word right. It sounded... He hadn't pronounced it the same way. His accent was light and subtle in normal English, but on that word... Something Japanese, then. Eh, it didn't help her understand it at all, anyways. He apparently hadn't been waiting for her to catch on to his little rant, though:

"Also, don't think about leaving this place alone. On foot, without as much as a map or a spirit, you'll be lost in a few minutes, and then you'll die of exposure. I won't come looking for you because I have better things to do, and your Prince Charming won't know how to find you.
- And what if it didn't happen like that?
- It definitely will, and I don't want to lose Luchist. He's a good Shaman. More balanced than you overall, since you have zero physical training and a bullet of his will put a hole through your head with or without Lucifel." She gritted her teeth, didn't throw a snarky remark. "Lucifel whom you won't be able to borrow much longer, I'm afraid. We'll find you something to use as a replacement until you find your Guardian. Or you don't, we'll see... Now sleep. You'll be tired tomorrow."

She so wanted to reply, to attack, purely out of spite - but she bit her lip, knowing quite well that he was right, at least for this. So she exhaled slowly, feeling tense and uneasy again as he moved away and faded into sleep. She had to decide, now.

Leaving. Staying. She didn't know how to decide. To leave meant to risk her life, and also to permanently put herself on Hao's hit list. She would be alone on the road, at risk at every turn, and without papers or money there was fat chance she'd find Marco again. Alone... To stay at least ensured she wouldn't be. But maybe it would be worse, as she would be alone in a crowd of enemies, mocking and isolating her. Uh... Uncertainty and risk would be on that road, too. What was she supposed to do...?

Sleep pounced on her like a savage beast, and her eyelids fell shut, closing the door to reality.

"Come on now, get up. I don't carry woodchucks over twenty pounds on my back when travelling, and we've got a long way to go."

That morning the sun still roamed the other side of the planet when she opened her eyes, and the words of a tall brown man were what she was given as alarm clock. She did not recognize him at first, neither his tousled black locks running down the sides of his face nor his naked torso - what DID that group have with decency? - and she stared up in confusion as she was shaken awake. It wad only when a voice called him from outside that she understood he was Turbein - Mohammed if she recollected the previous night's words right? and quickly complied. The man left the tent to let her dress up, which she hurriedly set to do. Putting on her own dress and tying then securing - and resecuring - the ribbons, she noticed how bare the tent looked. And once outside, the albino felt her jaw figuratively drop.

Where there had been tents, and a campfire, and training grounds with poles showing its edges, there was almost nothing. Close nearby, Bill and Yamada were tying together piles of wooden poles - the ones which held the tents together, she understood - or rather they were tugging their harshest at the ropes which one of the teens and Kanna then tied together. Boris and Ashiru were folding the fabrics. Hao was... Nowhere to be seen, but close nearby, she could easily feel it.

Then she was noticed.

The evening before, most of Hao's people had disappeared into their tents before said Hao and her, as he seemingly dropped into a strange nap and as she was facing her own hesitations. Most of them thus didn't know where the rebellious and strange new recruit had spent the night, but none missed her late exit from the tent. She heard the strangest gasp from Ashiru - uh... Would have to ask how he spelled it... - and turned to catch a mortified look on his face. What had she done? Was her dress caught in some way and showing something inadequate? It seemed not... His stare was angry, too, rather than merely shocked. She frowned.

To keep herself occupied, the young girl followed Marion and her sister. As the adults took care of the heavy work, they were tasked with preparing the departing meal, and soon Jeanne realized spying on Marco would be really useful to her. She soon had to forbid Mathilda to even come close to the ingredients, as she managed to just spill everything that was spill-able and even some things Jeanne thought weren't. After asking her, she understood it was usually Zang-ching or Turbein who took care of these things - when Hao didn't decide on a whim to do it himself.

Saying she didn't have the temptation to make the brunette's meal horrendeous would have been a lie. But Jeanne ended up deciding against it; it was too much of a childish idea toactually act on it. Sighing, she let Marion take care of that one sandwich, just to be sure, and did her best with the others.

It took them some more time to prepare the food than she expected, and when she turned around, there was literally nothing left but neat little piles of folded fabric and furniture. Mathilda distributed the sandwiches they prepared, then the cooking usensils were wooshed away too, and the group ate there, sitting in the dust or standing carelessly. Some were really doing it in a piggish way, too... The albino frowned, looked away from these. That was all she could do not to actually scold them. They had no decency...

"Okay, here goes," finally came the yell of Zen - or was it Ryo - when they were finally ready to go. Jeanne looked around, searching for a car or a vehicule of any sort... But Mathilda - she had quite obviously been tasked on helping her adjust - tapped her shoulder and told her to jump up. Doing as she was tasked, the albino had to keep herself from yelling when gravity suddenly stopped working. Mathilda grinned, told her to hold on. Her very halloween-y spirit had taken control, and flew them gently before lowering them... On a big, red shoulder.

Jeanne gulped. She'd seen the Spirit of Fire in videos before, had known about him for a long time, but never yet in reality, and it was really close for a first time. Around them, the others were already sitting down on the spirit, most of them holding the tents and other stuff they carried around. It just seemed so... Normal to them... Jeanne crossed her arms, sat down right there while Mathilda waltzed over to Marion. It didn't take long until everyone was settled. And then Hao ordered his spirit to rise.

She did have to admit it was awe-inspiring. She had the impression she could see everything. The camp's former grounds, then just a large and thick forest, then the Alps, cities... She guessed it might be Milan just under them, but she wasn't very good at geography, so it might have been any other big city. The Earth was getting more distant by the second, until it was just blobs of colour beneath them and they scraped at the clouds. She leaned in, trying to decipher the colours she was seeing. The x-laws headquarters were big and had noticeable features from above, maybe she could...? But no, her eyesight was just too bad or maybe it was too late or they weren't at the right place. She tried one last time, leaning further in...

... And was caught by a Luchist who seemed to prefer the young girl sitting on the Spirit of Fire rather than one flattened like a pastry hundreds of feet beneath. She reddened, wondered whether or not to thank him, opted for the later and scrambled away. Luckily, when she turned to glance at Hao, she gathered that he hadn't seen her almost falling down without any spirit to help her survive. The brunette was sitting in the middle of his companions, chin leaning on his palms, and stared without caring at the land before them.

The albino looked around to try and keep herself alert. Marion seemed to be occupied with a very interesting stare contest between herself and the ghost inhabiting her doll. Mathilda was chatting with Turbein and Peyote, Ashiru was looking at her disapprovingly just like Bill and... Wait, what? What had she done to offend the young boy? She'd understood pretty quickly that most of the adults were still quite doubtful of her importance and usefulness, but why would he...

Eh. Anyways, she didn't need him to like her. She would survive and endure and go through with her mission. Unbeknownst to her, she had began to frown, a large big frown that would be obvious to anyone looking at her. And just at that moment, Ashiru looked at her. Surprised, she tried to offer a more neutral look; but he simply turned away, looking even more angry. Well excuse me, she wanted to yell, sorry for appearing in your realm of existence, I won't do it again... But she didn't. It was useless to get upset at every little offending detail. They were the bad guys, after all. Unwilling to draw more attention to herself, the albino returned to watching the clouds around them, even more nervous than she was before.

"Hey."

She blinked. Mathilda's voice, directed at her. The redhead waved from across the giant spirit's shoulder and hopped next to her. "I'm supposed to school you on things so you won't be annoying or offending. You ready to listen?"

Jeanne blinked. "I... Suppose I am? What is there to school me on?"

Eyes rolling, Mathilda crawled closer. Jeanne crossed her arms. When would they finally treat her as something else than a kid?

"On us, for starters. Like, who we are. Let's start with me. I'm Mathilda as you know. Now my family name's Matisse. I'm Scottish, I was an orphan, I also speak Japanese quite badly and a little bit of Italian. I don't really have a religion - none of us do, much. Also I'm a witch as far as types of shamans are concerned. Marion - Phauna - and Kanna - Bismarck - are witches too. The first is from Italy, she's an orphan, and she's not neurotypical so don't hurt her or I'll cut you, she's your age - I'm a year older. She speaks some Greek and Japanese. Kanna is nineteen and she doesn't like whining kids, so yeah, be quiet around her. We're not actually sisters, but will treat each other as such, don't be surprised. She's German and does not like to talk of her family. At all. Or even her tatoo. Don't mention it. Ever."

She did like to blabber about, Jeanne reflected. But it wasn't annoying. At least she was learning things on those people, and it was pleasant not to be clueless all the time. "Okay... I won't. What about the others?"

Mathilda grinned. "You're getting it. Okay so Ash is Greek. Hao-sama and the rest of us pronounce his name differently because we're from all over the place, I'll help you. It's spelled a-c-h-i-l-l-e. He's a year older than me and he's prone to angry fits. His spirit - Seinfield - is nicer than my Jack or Kanna's Ashcroft. Oh, Mari's is called Chuck. Then you got Turbein, that is Mohammed Tabarsi - doesn't quite like his name - Mari and I call him Mo but don't, he's nice. He'll help you, if you ask."

And on and on it went. Jeanne didn't look at the clouds anymore, nor did she count the hours. It was quite nice, she almost thought. Almost, because then she glanced at Hao, and he was smirking, and that soured her mood.

When they finally arrived, they all jumped down from the red spirit's hand. Hao had taken his sweet time finding a place to put the tents, but despite the heat they should have had to suffer through in such a warm region, Jeanne felt nice and cool.

Once they were all on the ground, everyone seemed to turn to Hao, awaiting orders. She didn't want to appear to be doing that, so she crossed her arms, hoping she looked tough enough for it to be convincing. It wasn't.

"Turbein, come with me. Everyone, we're setting camp for a while so make it well. We'll be back in a few hours." Jeanne could only watch as Turbein and Hao literally vanished. Then she turned and found the group already fighting between themselves.

Before any installing was to be done, Blocken had to draw the plans of the camp. And apparently that was not a menial task. The three "witches" who were all sharing one little tent, had for this very reason the right to decide before anyone else where they wanted to be, and refused vigorously to be near any other tent for privacy reasons (Jeanne thought to ask why she wasn't allowed to have any but decided against it) while Achille begged and yelled for a space in the tent closest to Hao's, which the Boz refused to give him because they wanted to stay together and had different sleeping patterns, and on and on it went. Jeanne mostly listened in silence, growing more confused by the minute. At last the disputes were settled, and then she was asked to help. The younger children were tasked with untying the knots, which was a rather easy thing to do, as they only had to climb up the piles of stuff and tug at the right end of the rope. Jeanne replaced Marion once she was told how to execute the feat, and soon Achille, Mathilda and her could let the bigger, tougher people actually install the tents and refurnish them.

Which left the kids with nothing to do. For a while, the albino simply observed the adults work, before she grew bored of it. What to do, what to do...? In the end, she simply strolled about the tents, bored and nervous. The young girl thought of going back to her tent (Hao's, really, she still hadn't gotten around to getting her own things), but she didn't really like staying in there. It... was his place.

She heard a sound, like a hiss, to her left. Frowning, she went to check it out, taking small discreet steps. Hiding from behind a tent, she inspected the situation. Not far from her, Marion was standing against a plank of wood, arms outreached. Chuck was leaning against a tree nearby. Mathilda was standing a good fifteen feet from her, and she had knives in her hands. Before Jeanne could say anything, the redhead threw a knife against Marion. She stopped breathing for a second -

The knife penetrated the wood with a terrible creak, and Jeanne could breathe again. Mathilda had a victory dance. "I did it again, Mari!"

Someone pushed Jeanne towards them. She glanced backward, caught a peaceful smile from Turbein, but she had been spotted already. Marion moved away from the plank, went to gather Chuck in her arms.

"Hi, Jeanne..." The name still seemed to be strange in the redhead's mouth, and it made the albino bite her lip. "Hi, Mathilda," she replied, forcing her lips to twist into a smile. "Why are you... throwing knives at her?"

"Mari's safe," said the blond girl as she walked over to them. "Mari trusts Mathie. Mathie throws very well." Jeanne bit her lip. She sounded so sure... But she was bringing back the knives Mathilda had been throwing, and those terrified her. They were long and large, with cutting edges that shone brightly. It just seemed... so dangerous...

"But if she throws so well... Why even do this? What if she misses?" The albino was looking alternatively at the two other girls, trying to piece up a riddle that wasn't there.

Marion shrugged. "Mathilda keeps practicing. This way she is always at her best."

Uncomfortable, Jeanne crossed her arms. "I-I see...
- Jeanne should go."

Blink. She stared at the blond girl, who was nodding with a strange smile. "W-what...?
- Jeanne should stand there and let Mathie throw. Then Jeanne will see how good Mathie is.
- B-but.." Uneasy, she glanced at the redhead, hoping she would decline the proposition.

Mathilda, however, wasn't the type to decline challenges. "Yes, sure, do that. I won't touch you, promise. Or are you too much of a chicken...?"

Immediately, the albino frowned. She wouldn't fall for such an obvious taunt... But she needed to prove she was as capable as these people. She needed to show she wasn't a scaredy cat.

Jeanne took in a long breath, staring at Mathilda. Her instincts urged her to move, to dive before the knives moved. But she didn't move, she didn't dare back down. She didn't even close her eyes. Mathilda was five feet away when she threw the first knive in her direction. Jeanne tensed; it flew between her legs and got stuck in the wooden plank.

"See? No risks," commented Marion as Mathilda sauntered further. Jeanne's heart sank. The redhead was so far... She stayed still. Two knives were thrown and got stuck around her knees. Elbows. She swallowed harshly, still didn't move. Inhale. A knive flew above her head. Exhale.

"Mattie, can we go? Mari's hungry," finally called out Marion. Jeanne relaxed, and watched as Mathilda came back to get the last knife back, and the others vanished into smoke. Jeanne's eyes widened. "How...?"

"It's my Over-Soul," Mathilda grinned. "That way I don't need to replace my knives all the time, or even steal as many.
- Steal...?" The shocked expression of the albino seemed to disrupt Mathilda's flow of thought. Frowning, she shook her head, and grabbed her by the wrist.

"Ah, don't worry about it. Come on, we gotta go get food."

There was a shouting match going on between one of the Boz and Peyote. Zang-Ching and Bill were trying to make them calm down - and getting involved in the process, as was, Jeanne had understood, to be expected. Mathilda and her sister took advantage of that moment to sneak by the adults unnoticed and steal a banana and a cookie from the piles awaiting storage. Then they ran to hide behind a tent already up. Jeanne, perplexed, followed. As she stared at the duo happily snacking, she remembered a detail that had bothered her all morning.

"Hey... Can I ask a question? You told me not to on the trip but..."

Mathilda frowned, looked up, put down her fruit. "Okay but be quick. And as much as you can, don't offend anyone with your speech.
- O-okay... I just wondered... About your clothes."

Mathilda blinked. Marion stared at Jeanne, mildly confused. "My clothes," repeated the redhead.

Jeanne hesitated, unsure whether to press on. "Yes... I mean... You wear these overalls... Which end in a pair of pants.
- Your eyesight certainly isn't the thing that's wrong with you.
- W-well... Aren't those more... More of a boy's clothes? I don't get why you wear those..."

Mathilda blinked. Then laughed, loudly. Jeanne winced.

"I'm sorry, that's just... That's just so cute. And ignorant. Like, pants are boy clothes now? You mean to wear a long flowing skirt in battle? Guys can't wear anything feminine?

Frown. "W-well they're called feminine for a reason..."

"Nah. Just nah. Look, if you want to wear skirts and dresses, do it. Nobody will stop you. Don't cut your hair, wear jewelry... It's fine by me, and everyone here. But you'll let me wear whatever I want too. And if one day you want to try the pants, go for the pants. Nobody will judge you. There are no clothes specific for one gender, that's just weird.
- But it's not decent...
- Who cares? Wear what is comfortable to you." The redhead shrugged. "Mari likes dresses. Kanna likes micro skirts and shorts. Don't worry about tiny details like this one. Or at least, don't bother us if we don't."

Jeanne scratched her wrist. Okay... So that was how it worked here. It was just so weird and... Not decent at all... Worrying her lip, she nodded. "Okay..."

That earned her a smile as Mathilda finally bit into her banana. Jeanne crossed her arms, a bit miffed about the whole thing. "Where did they end up going, by the way?
- Hmm," was all she first took out of Mathilda's answer as she finished what she was chewing on and rose. "Follow me, there's a clear view from the hill, you'll see it better." Stil biting into her banana, the redhead - and Marion, too, who seemed to follow her around all the time - led her to the end of the camp, then up the hill they used to protect themselves from the wind. "See?" She had turned around, motionned to vague shadows on the other side of the camp. "They went north. To Bagdad to be precise. I think there's like... a Shaman Hao-sama wants to talk to there. "

Jeanne had stopped a little before the actual top of the hill, but she decided to join Mathilda to try and see better.

That was when it happened. She stepped out of the furyoku shields protecting the camp without ever noticing, and suddenly something pulled at her like an invisible magnet. Her stomach immediately rioted, and instead of turning towards the north she took a few step south, tripping and falling down the little hill. Her every nerve screamed in agony as she lay down, unable to say anything. It wasn't physical. So much she could decide in her suddenly through the roof fear levels. It was more... Insidious, like a hand was crushing her in a vice-like grip.

Marion cocked her head to the side, and Mathilda frowned. Neither made a move to actually grab Jeanne before she fell. But even though the redhead didn't really like the new recruit, she couldn't leave her on the floor. "Mari, go fetch an adult. The old man would be perfect. Quick." Her sister nodded slowly and hurried away, whispering something Jeanne didn't hear. The last thing the albino managed to see, still lying down on the floor and struggling to breathe, was an almost-worried look from Mathilda.

"Don't move about so much," she heard a more-or-less familiar voice growl from above her, "you'll faint again. Not that I care much, but still, come on."

Jeanne opened her eyes widely to find herself in the tent she knew quite well already, face-to-face with Strange Haircut Boy, known as Achille, her brain recalled. Why was he here? Had she been transferred from one sleeping place to another during her moment of weakness...?

"Why...
- Am i here? Up to you," he growled again. "I am supposed to check on you because you couldn't handle a simple trip. But I'll also make sure you know your place. I won't have you growing close to Hao-sama like that."

She sat up, heaving. Achille backed up, but nothing happened; she merely felt terribly ill. A confused wonder still managed to seep through her brain, and she squinted at the brunette. "You won't have me do what?
- You seem to think that you only need to come here, show off and sleep in his tent to catch him?"

She didn't even begin to understand what the teen meant. After all, she had made clear several times to both the Fire Shaman and his whole group what were her intentions, and following them here shouldn't have changed a thing. It wasn't like she had tried to lure him into a trap or poison him, right? She was too proud and proper to do such a thing - and currently too sick, too. So what could Achille's wrath be about?

"I don't under-
- Don't play the dumb lamb with me, missy. It won't work. If Hao-sama had expressly forbidden unprovoked deadly attacks on new recruits, I don't think I would let you..."

Jeanne frowned. Ill as she was, she felt the furyoku of the boy grow agitated. A large, towering spirit seemed to peek in the tent. Her feeling of uneasiness grew stronger as she looked both at the boy and his spirit, he really seemed angry and bitter... But certainly that wasn't enough to outright attack a defenseless girl, right? Without outside help or spirit, the matter would soon be solved... She managed to keep her nervousness under careful wraps and looked for an escape route. "What," she tried to ask gently, really she did, but her tone was harsh and cold, "did you come here for?
- I came here to warn you. Stop playing that dubious game. Hao-sama's smarter than that."

If only she could decipher what he meant by his sibylline warnings and sentences... But the dull ache stomped on the inside of her head like a bull charging, and it kept her into a nauseatingly lukewarm confusion. She thought herself strong, though, she had trained to endure the pain, way larger amounts too! But this... This was different. It wasn't a frank, quick strike. It was as if her very soul was under attack. She wavered, and when she came to - maybe a second after, she hadn't fallen, Achille hadn't noticed - the young boy was looking through the entranceway as Hao arrived.

The arrival of the Fire Shaman had two very different consequences for the young albino. The first one seemed... Normal to her: a mix of saturated emotions ranging from embarrassment, confusion, anxiety. Nothing strange when considering who was in front of her and why. Though the disturbing absence of a smile on his lips - it was the first time he wasn't grinning in her presence - probably strengthened those. The second consequence, however...

It didn't take her long to notice that she wasn't hurting anymore. Her headaches and nausea hadn't just faded a little, it had straight up vanished. She frowned as she observed Hao march into the tent, almost pushing Achille to the side.

"Achille, get out.
- But, Hao-sama...
- I told you to leave," repeated the older male with a tone which, however light, revealed a tightly controlled anger. "I felt the hurt and anguish of our little princess from Bagdad, so don't go upsetting her again."

The young boy hesitated still for a moment, then bowed to his master and left the tent wordlessly. Jeanne watched him, for lack of a better thing to do. Oddly, she felt... Embarrassed. She was supposed to be the Iron Maiden. Something the brunette would have to count with and to fear. Instead she had fainted like a little girl!

She hadn't noticed, but the brunette wasn't paying attention to her at all. Instead, he played with... A necklace? Translucent beads shimmered around his fingers as he snapped them one way and another... Jeanne decided to remain on guard, and cautiously asked him: "What are tho-
- She flew before our arrival. She was scared."

There was no little doubt he remembered her being around. His gaze was focused on the pearls. In his anger, he tightened the hold he had over the necklace, and Jeanne noticed the air around him shake. She had just the time to look away and shield her face before the pale pearls exploded, shards flying everywhere - she was, thankfully, spared. As she turned back to watch Hao nervously, she noticed a shard literally melting on the floor.

"Don't go out tonight. Irak isn't safe for girls like you, and whatever caused your headache is apparently dimmed by my presence. Turbein says it's nothing physical - which is good for you - but is caused by a spiritual force worth exploring. Not by you, though. I won't risk you causing me a headache again."

That said, the brunette left without a word.

Someone was calling to her. She didn't know how or or who or when, but someone... Summoned her. The call reverberated inside her body, playing a terrible painful tune on her ribs, blooming the flowers of her veins. She couldn't think straight...

She felt like she was forgetting everything up to her name, like she couldn't breathe, like she was blowing up in the dark...

A slender thin shadow before her, glitching in and out of her sight, was running. She could hear her ragged breathing, see her feet hit the ground. She was running in an unknown city, looking for somebody, somebody she knew... Then a blast, far away... Or not so far away... Something falling down on her head.

She felt like she could never move again, like it had all ended, like she was dead...

Then another shadow, a larger one, a brighter one, above her. They were trying to get the heavy stone off her... They didn't seem to notice she hadn't breathed on a while.

Ishtar, is that you? No...

A scream tearing at her ears... Flashes, then dark again, then the calling, the calling that forced her to step forward...

Come... It's been way too long...

An hypnotic order guided her every step, however wobbly, however difficult. Every one of her cells screamed at her, as if on fire. Was she... Walking towards one? She still couldn't see anything, engulfed in darkness... It felt so warm, though.. Warm like...

Ishtar!

The albino sat back up with a muffled shriek. It must have been past midnight. Hao hadn't come back in... Frowning, she rose and went to the door to try and glimpse at the outside world. It was very dark, though some flickering light allowed her to see the outlines of the others' tents.

She froze. That... was a surprise. The brown-haired teen had a strange expression plastered on his face. He didn't look like the mocking boy from before, or the furious Shaman who had lost his prey...

She tried to turn and slip back inside the tent, but she tripped on something - wasn't sure what - and he noticed her. She stopped, looking back at him, and noticed his expression had twisted into an angry mask.

"Well well well, what do we have here?"

He rose. Grabbed her arm. Before she could realize what was happening, the omnyôji had dragged her back inside, thrown her on her bed, and moved to sit right on her lap. Heavy, she managed to think as she tried to lean on her hands to gain some leverage. In vain. "Hadn't I told you to behave, princess?"

The young boy's voice was echoing loudly in Jeanne's ears, promising violence and danger. A dangerous cocktail. But she wouldn't let herself be intimidated. She raised her chin, staring right into the brunette's eyes. "I am not your slave, I don't have to obey you."

He chuckled softly, "you're really slow, you know. You should be more grateful towards your elders…"

Her eyebrows raised as she repeated, sarcastically: "Grateful? Are you trying to make me laugh?"

Hao smiled, almost kindly. But she paid no heed to his debonair appearance, instead focusing on how much of his teeth showed. "The very fact that you're alive today… it is a true miracle, you know," he whispered in her ear, as if to share a secret with her. "You are nervous, weak, stubborn, fearful, arrogant, ignorant, and a true coward at that… You want to kill me, eh smartass? All the ones who've tried before you are dead. Or worse." Singsong voice, still. The pressure on her shoulders grew heavier. "So learn to be make yourself small before truly annoying me.
- I don't do well with threats," she growled. "I will see my mission to its end."

It made him laugh. "You see, the difference between you and the others… They're scared for themselves, big or small, they don't want to lose their meaty bones and their little weak life. While you, on the other hand… You fear for cowards who turned you into a war machine. It's quite cute, really, but it also puts you into the not-so-bright category, little Maiden. You have no idea what I could do to you."

This time she didn't manage to keep herself from shivering, and gave a dark look to the young man laughing above her. After a silence, he added: "You chose to stay.
- And you chose to keep me alive, Your Grace.
- Your sarcasm's surprising.
- Surprise is always an advantage," she frowned. The other's smile remained, and his lean fingers came to wander in her bangs while he commented: "It's however unworthy of such a small angel as you…
- The X-Law's principle is that the means used to crush evil matter not."

He raised an eyebrow, amused. "Right now, am I not the one crushing you?"

She blinked, keeping her face a stone mask. "You're the one using humor reeking of bad taste now.
- That's the privilege of the mighty, hm?"

He rose, letting the young girl sit back up while he made the light dimmer. She closed her eyes while listening to him get undressed, and waited for the sound of the covers shifting before opening them again.

"What will you do now?
- About what?" His voice, his annoyingly lazy voice, had just taken a dangerous edge. She exhaled slowly to keep herself nice and calm, before clarifying: "Now that you've let the Shaman who interested you flee right out of your hands, what will you do?"

"I haven't thought about it yet. Maybe move on to find others. Maybe focus on what I have and train them better. Maybe eat up your soul. Who knows? But first, your dear Luchist must undergo a little test.
- A test?" She did her best to ignore the rest of his words. She wasn't afraid. Wouldn't be afraid.

She waited for a long time, but got no more answers. The fire shaman had fallen asleep, or wanted to make her believe he did. So she did the same.

She banged on the cold glass, pushing with her fingers outstretched to make the most noise possible. If only he could look her way! The blond man was so close; she just had to get him to turn and notice her, and then everything would be okay. But he wasn't turning; rather, he seemed to be walking away, away from her and the glass wall, "Marco," she repeated, her terror spiking as she banged louder, "MARCO!

- Shut up," she heard, and as she froze, the very, very familiar voice went on: "You went with Luchist. You didn't even try to flee and get back to us, when you had that exact possibility. You feel..." His disgust was obvious as he turned to face her, and she noticed the way his features were distorted in anger. "Admiration for Hao. You're looking to make friends in this disgusting place. You betrayed us.

- No...

- You are worthless.

- No, no NO!"

Scared mumblings coming in broken sentences from the other side of the room.

He opened a lazy eye. Hn, that would prove annoying. The brunette was slowly realizing he was thoroughly unable to sleep when his little roomate trashed about the way she did. It was the first time in three days that she wasn't sleeping soundly and silently, he noticed in annoyance, as surprising as it may seem. Completely awake by now, he jumped to his feet and approached her, deep in thought. She had moved enough to have thrown her blanket completely off, leaving her with only her white nightgown to protect her from the cold. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, and she shivered about every other second.

Maybe he shouldn't have decided to keep an eye on her so closely. Or rather, he shouldn't have thought he could just take someone into his living space and not feel any irritations at the changes that sprung.

The young man sighed, and with a kindness that surprised even him bent down to gather the blanket and put it back over the body of the little albino. But when he tried to move his hand back and leave, he found his wrist encircled by cold fingers. He tried to shake it off; in vain. "M-marco..." Her almost pleading voice amused him, somehow. Another sigh. He pried her hold open and strode outside of the tent.

...

A shriek passed her lips as she awoke. Cold sweat covered her body, she felt too hot. Pushing the blanket away, she hugged her knees. It was... almost dawn, she guessed. Luckily she was alone... Hao had left, she didn't know why, but he was gone. She was alone in the dark tent. Good; he probably would have hated being woken up by her, and would have demanded an explanation she wasn't ready to give.

As the terror faded, the young girl fell back down to thinking about her dream. How was she supposed to react? It was only a dream, in the end, an illusion sent from the depths of her scared mind. Nothing else. Nothing -

A sigh left her breast. Bowing down towards the pile of clothes she had chosen to keep, she looked for the familiar glint of her pendant, and seized it delicately. It made her smile, to see the familiar X-shaped object, to caress the cool letters. She raised it in front of her eyes.

Losing her eyes in there, she tried to organize the chaos inside her. Yes, she was scared. That she couldn't deny, at least to herself. She was scared of being wrong about staying. Of having chosen to stay for something else than what faith and reason had dictated. She was scared, in the end, of having taken steps down the wrong path, the one that led straight to hell. Maybe she should have gone when she still could. When there wasn't thousands of miles between Marco and her. Maybe if she had gone, she would have felt better, even if she died because of it. She just... didn't know.

Had she lied to herself? Had she been too cowardy, too lazy to trust God to watch over her and chosen what was easier, that is to lie down and just accept what Luchist wanted her to do? She... just couldn't be sure. She had waited, all through the night, for a sign. A message from God that would help her decide. There had been none. Or... maybe she hadn't understood it. That... had to be the case. There had been a sign, and she missed it. She should have gone. She definitely should have gone.

Or... maybe not...?

What was she supposed to do?

A few hours later, the camp began rustling with activity. A low buzz filled every tent, and soon you could see everyone's hair stand up on their neck. Something had happened, and it didn't please them.

"What happened?
- She... she vanished, that's what Mattie said. She just up and left.
- How could she do that? We're in the middle of the desert!
- I still don't see why Hao-sama's so angry about this. It's not like she's irreplaceable.
- It's true it's not like him to get so... angry about someone. He usually slays them before they betray him. We can still do that by the way. Kill her. Then it'll be done with and he won't have to care anymore.
- I think it's linked to the fact that he likes the other guy. Luchist. The girl is not someone he wanted here, but he is, and he doesn't want to have to kill him as well.
- Well, I think Hao-sama's pissed because he had told her to stay here and not leave. She disobeyed him. That's poor thinking.
- Whatever the reason... He is certainly pissed."

The quiet chatter spread through the camp with lightning speed, growing more venomous with each word whispered. It wouldn't have mattered to them so much if Hao hadn't had such a dark, somber face when he had gotten out of his tent in the morning.

Said Hao finally gathered them in front of his carefully closed tent. He still seemed ready to blow someone up. That sure... made some of them uneasy. But he didn't sound angry when he finally spoke: "Boris, you and Luchist will be in charge of training for today," he said distractedly. "Don't wait for me at lunch."

The brunette surveyed them in silence. The obedient looks on their faces did not mislead him. There were those who were indifferent, like Blocken or Kanna; but some also reacted with dark amusement, Achille for example. Bill, too, who hoped she would be offed as soon as she was found. And then there were Marion and Luchist, who for very different reasons didn't let any emotion show. Someone tried to get a reaction out of the later, he had heard, but got no response except annoyed silence.

He sighed tiredly, and waved them away before calling up his tall spirit. Now, he had to go and find her. Oh, he could have left her to die in the desert, but he felt... Angry. Provoked. The short stay of the little albino had been quite amusing to him, and despite everything he had said, she remained still the strongest Shaman under his wing as of now.

A moment later, the fire shaman had flown up into the skies, trying to feel the different flows of furyoku he could feel. Most of them were too faint and to weak to reach this height, so his search would be easier. His soul went into a meditating state, looking for the particular feel of the little girl's energy flow.

Soon enough, a violent and massive streak caught his attention. Its strength was impressive - the kind of impressive she could be - but it was also completely out of control. It felt like watching a spring come out of the earth in short bursts.

The brown-haired Shaman exhaled, tried to locate the origin of the flow. It wasn't that far, actually, which was no surprise - there was no way she could go far on foot, anyway - and then...

There. That was where the furyoku bursts were coming from. The teenage boy landed, the raw energy turning the sand to glass under his feet as he took the few steps leading up to the building.

This was an old temple, built out of pure red desert rock. The wind had eaten away at it for centuries, and larges empty holes showed its effects. No sane person would ever hide in such place - but it was an place filled with ancient magic, that obvious. And what he could be certain of was that if his prey wasn't in there, there would at least be a power source he could use.

Minding his steps, the brunette entered the old building and summoned a ball of flames to light up the path. This type of place was often full of traps and puzzles he cared little for... Even though the small footprints that guided him seemed to prove the contrary. She had been running down the hallways and nothing had happened to her (as of yet, at least).

The flickering flame licked the walls in turn, sneaking in the crevices to make the engravings come to life. Intrigued, the brown-haired Asakura walked over to one and tried to make sense of the pictures. He usually wasn't very interested or invested in ancient mythologies. The hundreds of false and true Gods populating the various pantheons didn't phase him much, especially since he knew who these used to be. Strong Shamans who managed to trick and delude everyone else around them to believe in their powers... As well as former Shaman Kings and their minions. Such spirits were often jailed in the end of their reign, or cast away as maleficient. And their only wish was to be freed...

It would really be like Jeanne to fall into such a trap. These spirits had fields of influence and didn't hesitate to grope for any Shaman able to bear their power. Most Shamans with Guardian Spirits were safe from them; one who had no such "anchor" to protect them... Tch.

Following the drawings with a finger, he understood slowly that this was to be the hiding place of a secret order of priests, who revered whom he recognized as a Babylonian god. He must have heard about it somewhere, because the way he was described definitely associated with Babylon in his mind. What was that god's name, already...?

Said god was constantly associated with golden rays, sun-like orbs, and also what Hao made out to be forms of trial. And there was also another grand figure, more feminine this time. Her orbs were not as big or shiny, and there was less about her, but on some pictures it seemed her and the other god were linked, although never facing the same way.

Oh, well, that didn't matter much. All that told him was something he already knew: the girl he'd taken under her wing had a knack for getting in trouble.

After one last curve, the fire Shaman found himself in a wide, square room, filled with pale light. No window, no hole broke through the thick stone wall, though; the light came only from a well-known little girl, slumped over a few feet from where he stood. He had to admit the sight came straight out of a fairy tale. Jeanne was kneeling in front of a golden statue, her glowing arms seemingly stuck to the base of the structure. From there shot light blue threads of energy, which were responsible for the light filling the place. They then focused on the face of the statue, giving it an almost life-like appearance. And... that was actually what they were doing.

That was when it all clicked into place for Hao. The solid, frozen aspect of the statue was fading. From cold, the room went to freezing as energy continued to be transferred over to the former god. The big blank eyes of the spirit were taking on a brighter, more lively aspect. The transformation must have lasted a minute tops, a whole sold minute during which Hao remained where he stood.

The sun god of that absurd religion had just been freed in front of his eyes from his so very old jail, and was linking himself with the little albino Hao had been looking for.

Said Hao took a step forward. There was a low buzz. The spirit was pale yet, but he stared at the fire shaman fiercely, visibly upset that he should be there to witness this event. Hao gave him the same kind of stare; he was visibly wondering whether keeping the child and her newfound spirit would be worth it.

At least, they weren't going to have any more trouble finding her a Guardian Spirit. "It seems coming here wasn't a complete loss, I guess," he whispered, still staring at the little girl resting on the red stone. Slowly, he bent down and gathered her into his arms. His eyes scanned her tranquill, relaxed face. Not one scar on these doll-like features...

"You might as well follow," was said calmly to the spirit. Another annoyed sigh passed his lips as he rose back to his feet and turned around. On his way back, Hao wasted no time looking at the walls. His steps were surer this time around, he cared no more for the drawings on the wall. Ancient gods were better off dead, and having one in his ranks didn't please him that much. Ah, well... He still did not know the spirit's name, or his exact story, but he cared very little for that. The child would, and given how little control she had over her thoughts he would learn fast enough. He walked fast. Something bothered him, he wasn't sure what...

Ah, it seemed to be that. The fact that he could almost forget he was carrying her. So light. A feather would be more bothersome. What did her people ever hope to accomplish by sending such a... child against him? She should be playing with toys and hiding in someone's skirts, not hurting herself and thinking about killing people. It was a dull anger in the back of his stomach, the same he had felt when meeting Marion and Mathilda. Humans were definitely the scum of the Earth... He remembered Marco being a human, at first. No wonder he'd been so awful to a child. Now if he could only go through to her

Outside, a dusty wind rustled the sands. Jeanne must have caught some of it in her open mouth, because she coughed and twisted about in what was probably some pleasant sleep. It made Hao pause for a moment. On the way back, instead of gazing at the ochre and mauve colours of the desert at dusk, he found himself glancing at her a few times. The wind played in her hair, and he found himself unwillingly smiling.

Smirking. It was a smirk. He was mocking her. Sure he was.

Deciding not to bother with defining his emotion anymore, he simply transported back to camp. Without bothering to give as much as an explanation to his group, and despite Achille's insistance he simply brought the little girl back to his tent. "We don't have the time to care about this," he sighed, "we need to prepare for Luchist's initiation." Then he left the tent.

A few hours later, Jeanne managed to wake back up. Her eyelids moved then opened, slowly. She felt weak, and the harsh light from the outside sun hurt her eyes. For a while, she simply remained there, feeling sick and confused... Her whole body hurt. It didn't hurt like a bruise, or like when she entered the Iron Maiden. No... It felt more like a general weariness, liquid pain in her muscles and joints. It wasn't easy to move, and she felt her head swirl at the thought.

Then she felt it. That quiet presence at the back of her mind. It wasn't loud or upsetting, it wasn't demanding, it was just... There. Blinking, she looked towards her left, and there he was.

The person from her weird, headache-induced dreams was there. But... not in the way she had seen him. She knew who he was, she knew what had happened to him, but his spiritual form was different. He had the body of a child, the tail of... something she couldn't identify, the large blank eyes of a blind person. She felt no violent intents from him, so she decided to try and see what this person wanted from her: "He-ello...?"

She heard a chuckle echo, could not locate its origin. His eyes... were fascinating. They very clearly did not see her; he had no pupils to. Despite this he was looking right at her.

'You do not have to talk aloud for me to hear, Jeanne. Our souls are linked now.'

She almost jumped. His mouth hadn't moved, there was no one else... This was not a joke. Could he... talk inside her mind? Was that a possibility? 'Yes, Jeanne. Remain at peace, I will not do you harm.'

She frowned, tentatively tried to respond. 'You... Are him, right? The man in my dreams...'

'I apologize for having done that, I had no other way to reach out to you. I knew your soul would wander close once I started sending my memories to you...'

Jeanne tried to sit up and gather her thoughts. Images from these dreams ran back through her mind, as if she were watching a movie. 'There was also... A girl, wasn't there? A girl who got killed...'

The spirit's tail swished through the air nervously.

The albino bit her lip, nodded slowly. Even if she didn't remember everything... or rather, anything but fragments from her escape in the desert, her entering the temple, touching the statue... even if she didn't remember all of it, she trusted him. She had freed him from his prison. She had done everything she could for him. 'So you... will go to the Great Spirits now, won't you?'

New chuckle. 'Of course not. Now our souls are tied together tightly... I will be your Guardian from now on; you will not be alone anymore.' The albino blinked, let go of her lip. Was that... Right? 'Open your mind,' was the spirit's command. 'Then it will make sense.'

The albino breathed in deeply, closed her eyes. 'Imagine a gate. It is old and tall, covered in chains. If you do not want me, then you do not touch the gate; if you do, break the padlock, take off the chains. Open the gate.' Jeanne nodded - though she wasn't sure her physical form did- and obeyed, taking off the chains with a finger's touch. Then she grabbed the handle, tugged at it with all her strength.

And it happened. He reached out for her, and she could feel his mind settling close, a mind she suddenly knew like he had been there for centuries. His name was Shamash, he was a former God-class Shaman from Babylone. He had been a judge, all these years ago, a judge who valued fairness above all. He was considered to be the god of the sun, the one who shed light on the world.

And in his mind... There was a place for her. Jeanne blinked, 'went' there. And was immediately overcome with sensations. A burning gratitude washed over her, and love, and trust too. As far as he was concerned... Their encounter was genuine. She hadn't meant to 'catch' him like a pet. Many others had, and their bones on the floor of the temple was proof of that. But she had not meant to come. Her mind had been the one which echoed perfectly his calls for help, the one which was able to feel so much for him, a mere stranger... As of such, she was precious to him, so very precious.

Shamash smiled softly. The bridge between their minds was complete, he could be her Guardian now. Which meant they had to get a move on, finally. He frowned. She blinked in surprise, as his feelings receeded to his own mind.

'Jeanne, you need to get out of here. Something is happening outside, and you will be upset if you do not take part.'

Frown. What was that about...? Unsure, the albino rose to her feet. 'What...?'

'You'll see. Hurry.'

Jeanne crossed her arms, hugging herself loosely as she left the tent. Outside, she noticed the silence. It wasn't the very busy, usual silence of the camp, filled with little fights, discussions and other background noise; no, it was a disturbing lack of sounds. Coughing, she shook her head, began to walk around to find someone.

But she found nothing and no one.

Where could they all be?

A weird feeling swirled in her gut, as if her organs were turning to stone directly inside her. Swallowing hard, she turned to Shamash. His tail was swishing through the air, and as soon as he saw that he was questionned, he zoomed north.

And then...

What she first noticed was the gate. It was an enormous portal, completely out of human proportions. Which... could probably be explained by the fact that it wasn't a human-made portal, far from it. Even the words she could find to describe it, "portal," "gate," did not convey a real sense of what she meant, and Jeanne only used them because better, more precises ones were lacking.

There was no door handle, or lock, or frame. It wasn't made out of wood, or iron, or any other material she thought could be used to make doors. It was very simply a hole, a gap in the fabric of reality. Inside, all she could see was purple and red swirls that disappeared into large crevasses in the roc.

"What is..." The question died on her lips as she stared, still in shock, as a certain former priest that she knew (and loved, somewhere in her stubborn head, or at least cared for) walked right up to that... thing, and vanished inside. A second before, he was there, solid, real; but as soon as he had touched the shining surface of the door, his body had turned to smoke. Where was he gone to? What was he doing that for?

For a little while, she remained frozen, unable to react. Her heart was throbbing painfully, she felt light-headed all of a sudden, as if she had been knocked out. Until then, she had never been... completely 'alone' in this place. Of course, she did not approve Luchist, she still did not understand his decision at all... but he had been there. He was still a pillar of safety, a link to her past life. Now -

Now what? She had no idea what had just happened. What the portal... Hao had done to him. Was he dead? Gone forever with Lucifel? But... He had gone willingly. Luchist was no man to commit suicide. First because it was a sin, and second because... it just wasn't him. He wouldn't have gone without being completely sure he would be back. So what then? Was that a... trial...? Hao had mentionned an initiation. In that case... In that case what? Jeanne breathed in deeply. She felt her mind blur and panic in front of so many questions. The mere idea that he could fail... Maybe this was only a bad dream. It had to be. She was most likely still in her bed, the heat and the fever must create those hallucinations...

Anyways, she couldn't... She couldn't just stay there, waiting for something to happen. Her whole body was tense, she felt like she would burst. Almost without notice, the albino started walking towards the portal. She couldn't even hear the noise she made, her entire being focused on the colorful, alluring swirls. Soon she was only a few steps away from the strange vortex.

"What are you doing, brat?"

Jeanne's amaranth eyes rose to meet Kanna's gaze. But she did not seem to be actually looking at her. Her face remained still and emotionless as she stared at the person between her and Luchist.

"This is not your initiation, this is not your story. Back off, little girl," was Kanna's stern comment as she stared down at Jeanne. She obviously did not mean to let her pass. Jeanne simply stared, red against blue. Shamash snapped the book he carried shut; the noise was enough to make the witch twitch; it was easy to feel the little albino's quiet annoyance. She didn't know yet what she could do with her new-found Guardian. The idea that she could maybe blow her opponent to the moutain wall would be an interesting hypothesis to pursue. The light in her eyes flickered.

"That's enough, you two," said another voice. Of course. The dull throbbing that was hampering Jeanne's judgment only worsened when Hao came into her sight.

"I think that'll be enough, you two." The bloody gaze of the albino turned to the fire Shaman. Of course. He was the last piece of the puzzle, the one who could explain. Kanna, for a second, seemed to wonder whether she should argue; then she shrugged, and turned away.

"You seem to have trouble making friends, princess.
- What's that?" Her tone was demanding. He didn't seem phased.

His eyebrows rose, and raised a hand to brush back a wandering strand of white hair, but she chased it away. She wouldn't let herself be distracted, not this time, not with Luchist in that situation.

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you?
- It doesn't matter. I'll go through that thing anyways."

His glee turned into a full blown laugh as he crossed his arms. His eyes had a calculating glint now, he was... interested. That meant she was in danger, probably. She bared her teeth.

"Most people die without ever getting out. Some others lose their minds and let themselves be completely overriden by mine," he explained calmly. "Are you ready for that to happen to your dear soul, princess?" She blinked. Her gaze grew harsher, though she wasn't that reassured. Or reassured at all, for that matter. Why had Luchist agreed to do this if it was so dangerous? He was no man to forfeit his life. Nor was he one to go through such a thing without guarantees. It was terrifying, the idea that he trusted their enemy so terribly much...

And beyond her noble worries, it would be lying to say she wasn't scared. At least unconsciously. Becoming the mindless doll of this man, a fragment of his power, seemed to her a disgusting destiny. Was she... ready to take such a risk?

"I can't wait to see what you will decide." Hao's voice was tranquill, and there was a sneer in there somewhere. He stepped aside. Jeanne raised her chin, offended. Shamash was silent inside her head; he, too, was waiting for her decision.

"But I have already made my mind," she replied haughtily before breaking their visual contact. She didn't breathe any more words when she passed him, walking right to the portal. The hypnotic colours of the portail hurt her eyes a little, and she swallowed discreetly. The albino knew she could not falter. If she did, any respect for her would be forfeit. Without the Iron Maiden, she had to find new ways to rise in power, else she would have no chance against Hao... And if she had to, she would turn his own teachings against him.

So she raised her chin, called Shamash to her, and walked through the tall gate, vanishing into the light.

Inhale. Blink. Exhale.

She couldn't feel her toes. For that matter, she couldn't feel any of her limbs.

Jeanne opened her eyes. She was not in the camp anymore. Kanna, the men, Hao... They were nowhere to be seen. Nor was Shamash; and try as she might, she couldn't hear him like she had just learned to. She was standing alone, amidst colorful swirls.

She had stepped in the world created by Hao. That she remembered. But not much else. Ah, Luchist was supposedly in here, too. But she couldn't see him either. No, there was only her and the colors swimming around her...

Which then faded, leaving her... Standing a rocky pithon in a canyon. Dazed, the albino looked around, trying to find some hint as to why she had ben sent there... And then she heard it. A low, feral growl. Surprised, the albino whirled around and looked at the scene just below the brittle platform she was standing on.

A lone man was standing there, surrounded by what Jeanne determined were spirits. Given their height - one almost reached her platform when raising its arms - and their attributes - fangs, large blue and red bodies, there was no way those two... Things were normal animals.

Then they attacked. The lone man avoided the first one's blow, and vanished from his position to another platform a bit further away. He was facing her now, and Jeanne immediately noticed the striking ressemblance to Hao. It was as if he had grown to an adult form... But his features were a little different, as if someone had tweaked them. His face was more... Angular, his eyes smaller and more... Dignified? She wasn't sure. It was him, and it wasn't him.

The beasts, however, weren't too keen on letting her observe some more. The first one leaped over to where the man was standing. It seemed to amuse him, and as the monster - demon, she heard the Hao-but-not-quite person call out - grew closer a trap sprang up. On the ground, a star shape started glowing when the demon stepped over it, and it seemed to instantly freeze him over.

Its partner howled in anguish and jumped over to what Jeanne realized was the actual predator in that fight, levelling a devastating punch to Hao. Standing in between the two demons, he seemed... Almost small. The fist that would crush him was as large as his entire torso. There was no way he'd get out of that alive.

With a mere hand gesture, the man had called forth a large barrier that protected him from the heavy blow. Instantly, he had teleported behind the creature. Another star-like pentagram appeared out of thin air and bound the demon to immobility.

Hao straightened back up. He didn't even seem out of breath. There was a satisfied smile on his lips as he started talking to the two demons, and made them his minions. And they... Obeyed.

Jeanne felt herself grow agitated. Her gut feeling had been right. She needed to learn these secrets. This... Power, she needed it. With it she could stand up to her foes. With it she could save Marco and he would be proud of her, he would ignore her shortcomings and her 'betrayal'... She just needed to have it. The albino clutched her hands in her dress.

Blink. Now Hao was floating in front of her. It was dark around them, walls of red rock kept the light out. But... there was another source of light, from beneath. Red lava shone down there, and that was when Jeanne realized the air was hotter than before. Not... not impossibly so, though, not like it definitely should have given that she was apparently inside an active volcano. She was sheltered in some way.

Adult-Hao chuckled. She looked back at him, shocked. He was sitting on his calves, almost right above the molten rock beneath them. The heat must be terrible... And yet he didn't move. He didn't seem phased. "This is what you would get, if you just gave yourself to me," he whispered calmly, reaching down to play with the lava as if it were mere water. "There is no need to be scared, little girl. You would be invincible, with your energy and my secrets... Come on, now, come to me. All your pain would disappear."

The albino stumbled forward, unsure on how she was able to walk so easily right on the air. Then the volcano vanished, now they were in a colorful meadow. Walking was easier, she could almost run right to him. He gestured for her to sit down; obediently she did so. She needed that power. What for, already...? She could not remember. He bent down, whispered things in her ears.

It lasted a second or it lasted a year, there was no telling. When he sat back correctly against the bark, Jeanne did not move. She was unable to. The scene changed, she had to scramble back up. She was standing on a cliff. Hao was still in front of her, standing too, his feet in the air. "Come to me," he whispered again. She wasn't floating as of then, but she had not so long ago, so she obviously would still be able to if needed. It didn't matter the cliff was high and she could see rocks beneath them...

She took a step forward.

"This boy... what does he think he is?"

Jeanne blinked. There was someone at her side, someone she hadn't noticed before. Had he been there through the whole ordeal? She didn't think so. She was in fact convinced he hadn't been there... Maybe? This confusion left her head pounding. Listening to the person who was in front of her was easier, way easier... Turning away from Hao's older avatar, she rubbed her face. As if a veil had been lifted from her eyes, she could now see a boy her age. The person from her dreams. It was Shamash's human form, the one he had told her he could not assume in real life. So this was a dream...?

"Sh-shamash?
- Focus, little mistress. Remember who you are and where you are. Why would you care about this little show? What truth is there to it?"

She frowned. "I'm here for... I'm here to..." But she didn't know. She tried to glance at Hao's avatar, she could see him from the corner of her eye, still beckoning her to come closer, to make the jump.

"Your soul would die," Shamash warned. "It would get lost in his forever, and only a broken shell would get out of here. You would become Hao's best weapon. Is that what you want?"

Jeanne blinked. Oblivion... That was what this path would lead to. Never having to think again. Never having to suffer or make any choice again... Why was her heart wavering? This was... Awfully... Tempting. Why...?

"You know why, little mistress. But think of everything you're losing if you choose this way. You won't get closure. No one who's involved will."

That... Was true. "If I go back... I'll get that, right? Closure?
- I'm sure of it," was the whispered reply, and the spirit gestured to a tall portal behind her. It was... The one she had stepped through to get inside, she remembered with a gasp. This was the exit?

"Come to me," she heard Hao say behind her. Shamash growled. She had to hurry! But her soul seemed to be very heavy all of a sudden. Every step took almost all of her willpower. The ground was grosing warmer with every second, and her ears rang, which made it hard to focus. But she had to go... Had to...

Jeanne felt a hand on her shoulder. Then Shamash collided with her lower back, and she was thrown through the portal.

The albino woke up to the sound of a shout. It was muffled, and didn't carry fear or horror, but it was enough to make her sit right up. But as she listened... No. It had vanished again. So maybe it wasn't to be her top priority. No, that priority was rather - where was she?

The albino rubbed her sleep filled eyes to better look around. Shamash was floating close to her, a peaceful smile on his face; but that was the only thing she could recognize in the whole room. She was lying on a real, solid bed, with sheets, and a sturdy frame. That... was enough to amaze her, after weeks of those camp beds she hated. Also, she was in an actual, honest-to-God house, with windows and stone walls around her.

Jumping to her feet, the albino looked at herself. She wore... her clothes from before, that was good. But her necklace wasn't around her neck. That was enough to make her panic. Suddenly tense, she started rummaging around. That was when she noticed a drawer. Some clothes Marion had given her were there, so she went around the bed to try and find it. Ah, there it was. She put it on, sighed. Then,

"I survived."

Shamash nodded. 'You slept for a good twenty four hours, mistress. Luchist made them take you here - he had to carry you in his arms. The rest all think you're dead, or gone, soul-wise.' Jeanne blinked. That... was not reassuring. She tightened her fists and raised her chin. "Let's prove them wrong, then." The albino went with some new clothes to find a bathroom, before stepping out clean in the hallway. The shouts came again from time to time; they reminded her of a sports crowd... Curious, the albino opened a door, and discovered a large, well-lit kitchen.

The first thing she noticed was Jack's knife, as it fell on the table, and again, and again as Jeanne watched from the door, her eyes wide. The small redhead made the weapon twirl with a scary glee. Then she looked up.

"Jeanne!" She triumphantly smiled to her before grabbing the small cookie bits she had just cut, and then she started distributing them to her teammates. Everyone got some of those delicious crumbs, including Jeanne whom everyone was ignoring. Everyone of them did; except the Boz. Those, Mathilda explained loudly, were punished for trying to make every one of her hairties vanish, and for breaking the last sewing needle Kanna used to repair Chuck (he needed that at least once a week, the albino had been told before... that was not smart or kind of them, to say the least)

Jeanne blinked as the red hurricane zoomed away. She... had just been filled in with what had happened while she was down under. It had been done swiftly, and without any awkward pause. She smiled and walked over to the redhead.

... The two Boz didn't look like they minded losing their share of cookies, though. They were way too occupied by their noble mission, she understood after a few seconds spent watching them: the two were cheating in the card game opposing them and Kanna, Luchist and Yamada. That... was not a smart move either, she thought.

Mathilda was watching them from a higher seat on the kitchen counter. Grabbing Jeanne by the arm, she helped her get on it as well, so they could watch for a while. Whispering, the redhead told her they were playing some poker games. Jeanne didn't... feel like approving. Poker? Wasn't that a gambling game? Why would Luchist... Her heart throbbed, she looked down. They must all be cheating, she thought, it would be only normal for those people... and since Luchist was playing with them, he was surely not that innocent either. It hurt to think of him that way; but it was his fault.

Their game ended up being too noisy for the two girls. Tired of jumping every time someone shouted, Jeanne slid back down to the floor and followed her friend to the living room through another door. It was... large, and well-lit, though she immediately noticed spiderwebs in the corners. Marion was there; but she didn't look at Jeanne. No, she was too focused on holding her very dear doll. Chuck lied in her arms like a very real boy; he had a large rip in his little body, and she stuck her hand right there, to keep him from 'bleeding' out.

Jeanne smiled to her before jumping on the window's edge and look outside. A word from Mathilda taught her that they were in Munich now. Mün-chen, she mouthed to herself, letting the syllabs roll in her mouth. She liked it... liked it a lot. The street below was already buzzing with activity, vibrant colors and blinding lights dancing in her amazed retinas. It had been only a week since Rome... But it had already been too long.

Mathilda was still talking behind her. So apparently, the building itself belonged to Yamada, and he had left it to rot since he had met Hao. That explained the smell, the dust and the spiders. But at least there were lots of rooms - even though they were small. So she wouldn't have to share her space with Hao. Great!

She wouldn't have to deal with him anyways, she learned as Mathilda settled down close to her. Apparently he had vanished from the moment they had arrived in town, after establishing a very clear chain of command and giving a list of priorities to his teammates. Mathilda had a half-apologetic smile when she told the albino that she was the lowest on said chain, after Achille and Marion... Eh. She wouldn't have expected anything else.

That was when the shouts coming from the kitchen became shrieks, and she only had time to stand up before the accident happened.

The kitchen door opened and came to crash against the wall with a terrifying bang, as a pale Ryo was thrown to the ground, and kept there by a furious Kanna. The German girl was swearing in her native tongue. Her fist rose.

"You dirty, dirty cheater," she hissed suddenly in english. "Horrible leering fly who stared at me from the very moment I arrived here. I can assure you that you won't ever look at me again, loser, you won't have the eyes to do so." Her fist fell towards the teenager.

It never found its target.

Luchist had appeared on the treshhold and caught the teenage girl at her waist before straightening up, freeing the poor Ryô. Said Ryô crawled to safety while Kanna struggled in the elder's arms, calling for Ashcroft, insulting the Boz and Luchist and men in general, but neither her nor her spirit could break free of the fallen angel.

Marion had started to panic, Jeanne noticed. There was too much noise and movement, Kanna her heart-sister was screaming, Ryô her nice brother bled from his nose... She started to shake slowly, rocking back and forth, back and forth, faster now. She held Chuck so tight against her chest, the straw was falling in her lap. She was.. speaking too, Jeanne understood. It was all in harsh whispers, in a language she didn't understand. The albino wasn't sure what to do, but she knew Mathilda had not noticed. So she followed her instinct and went to grab her in her thin arms, rocking her gently, trying through whichever way to calm the incoming fit - but she couldn't keep herself from looking back to Kanna and Luchist.

The priest had walked into the room, apparently not caring about the blows inflicted on him by the struggling girl he carried. He managed to get her over to the couch and let her fall there, holding her in place with his weight so she wouldn't spring back up.

Jeanne frowned. If she hadn't seen how the two came to be placed so, she would probably have said something. This kind of fit... was weird...

A few breahtless moments came, and went.

"Are you calm now?"

Strange how sweet, how calm Luchist's voice was suddenly, strange how Jeanne felt like he was taming a wild animal. A weird impression of déjà-vu came to her, but she chased it away. She had nothing close as far as personality went to the... lack of control, that Kanna showed.

Finally, the young blue-haired girl nodded. So Luchist nodded as well, before slowly releasing the hold he had on the teenage girl. Ryô was already sitting up, his best friend at his side. Jeanne felt like he would make another blunder, say something dumb... But he didn't. Instead he sulkily disappeared towards his private room.

Kanna straightened up. Her eyes seemed darker than usual as she stared at Luchist for a long, long time. "I'm going to change," she said softly, shrugging. "Then we're going shopping. Someone fix this idiot's nose." Then she, too, left the room, slamming the door behind her. Her footsteps echoed loudly in the silent building. Jeanne was still rocking Marion, who seemed calmer now. Luchist sighed, turned to face her. Stopped. "I'll get her to calm down. Get ready."

And then there were only the three girls in the living room. Mathilda noticed her sister's situation, rushed to Jeanne. For a moment she simply tried to get Marion's attention. After making sure the blond girl was okay, she straightened a little, untangled her from Jeanne's hold. "Don't touch her without her permission, princess. You're lucky it helped this time, but... Ask her if you have to, don't do it without indication that it'll help. Got it?"

Jeanne nodded. Then the trio rose to their feet, and, under Mathilda's guidance, the trio set to getting ready.

"Kanna puleaaaase!"

Jeanne and Luchist sighed at exactly the same time. Then Jeanne threw him a dark look, and sighed again when the German girl replied with a colorful insult.

Their mission was supposedly simple. Leave the house and mingle with the humans, find the supplies, obtain them, go back. And who had been designated for this noble deed? Kanna, first, because she spoke German, Luchist because older adults were supposedly more respected (an argument that produced more than one growl), Zen and Ryo because they needed someone to actually carry the supplies (Kanna couldn't be bothered) Mathilda and Marion because they looked innocent, and Jeanne... well she wasn't sure why she had to come as well, but everyone had more or less acted like she had to. And given she was the lowest ranking member (though she didn't see herself as one, anyways), she couldn't just decide to opt out. Plus, she had to carry the 'ultimate treasure': the shopping list.

All of this explained why she was currently walking down Munich's streets, trying hard to keep up with a growling Kanna and an over-excited Mathilda. Everyone but her seemed to be at ease roaming these unknown streets, which... Hardly pleased her. The young albino did not understand a single word of German and was scared of getting lost among all those foreign-sounding street names; for this reason she was rather eager to finish their tasks and get back to the safehouse.

The problem was that, Mathilda being Mathilda, she had stopped in front of the very first darker-looking shop they passed. Her eyes were shining with the power of a thousand stars as she counted the ribbons with cartoon skulls she could see through the store front. Oh, Jeanne had learned not to worry, she wouldn't ruin the group by buying those overprized fashion accessories - but if Kanna gave her the permission, she would gladly steal them. And even if she didn't have the permission...

"I've already told you no, you pumpkin-headed brat," growled the German girl while the smaller child grabbed her leg. "We don't have time to waste and that'll bring us unwanted attention. Work comes first.
- But they'll be sold out by then!
- Well in that case you'll find the buyers and you'll take your damn ribbons from them, then!"

They were luckily speaking in English, Jeanne thought, a little weirded out by the altercation. Discretion wasn't their forte, honestly.

"I'm not moving," Mathilda shouted, now sitting on the floor, "not until I get those ribbons!
- They're selling needles-for-Chuck," noted Marion with a gentle, soft voice. Said Chuck raised hungry eyes. He didn't like being torn, since every move made straw fall out in small amounts, which made his duties (punishing Those Who Bothered His Sweet Mistress) more complicated.

"You're really starting to get on my nerves, brats! I'm telling you, we're not going!"

But if there was one thing Kanna couldn't do, it was convince Mathilda not to do something, apparently. And Zen saw the shop also had hiking boots, started to whine to get a pair, used the excuse that Jeanne's needed to be used, etc. So twenty minutes later, they were still in front of the shop, Mathilda had the ribbons in her hair, and Zen was trying on his shoes.

"... I need a new lighter anyways," Kanna finally shrugged as she entered the shop. One terrified shopkeeper later - he had tried to card the teenage girl - the group left it. Mathilda had her ribbons, Marion her sewing supplies, Jeanne shoes she didn't want, Zen shoes he did want, and Kanna her lighter. All this should have cost a lot; but apparently, Jeanne learned, money was not a thing Hao considered important. Uh...

Thus weighted down by their new possessions, they trudged on. Jeanne fished the shoplist from her pocket, instinctively reading it through before passing it on. What was written on there could have troubled more than one bystander.

Twenty feet of rope and plenty of fabric, that could be justified at least, the tents were weary. Guitar strings for Peyote and Ryô (though maybe, given the musical talent of the Bozu, the latter didn't really need those), a button to replace Chuck's eye, sure, that still seemed normal. But fifteen curry breadsticks (knowing that only one person actually ate them, and that it wasn't a very... German flavour), or a dozen of baby oil bottles (without any known target, very suspicious)... those were harder to justify. There was also helmet paint (Bill had cracked it by headbutting nearly everything around him, Jeanne learned), hair gel, color pencils, new books (in German, so only Kanna would be able to read them...).

The group thus set to gather those things.

No other incident disturbed their little hunt. The little group left behind perplex and often scared shopkeepers. Perplex, because of the mysterious disappearance of some of their furniture, and scared for the few who had caught the culprits. However Jeanne and Luchist had managed, both with she supposed different intentions at heart, to keep the others in line. After they were done, Zen and Ryô left with the heavy bags, leaving only the three girls, Luchist, and Jeanne.

"Okay," said the priest as they reached a little park. "We're almost done, so I'm leaving you here for a moment. Don't upset anyone or anything, if you can," he whispered towards Kanna and her little protégées.

"Where do you think you're going, old man?
- Do not speak with that tone of voice, Kanna. I think you deserve a break, that's all."

Jeanne frowned. Something in the way Luchist spoke seemed... off, to her. The tall priest was trying to get them off his back. To get her off his back? Couldn't be sure. What for? She would have tried to follow him, but Marion firmly held her hand. The blond girl seemed to know something. Frustrating...

"Can we go, Kanna? It seems so cool!" Mathilda, of course Mathilda, had just found a new whim to satisfy. "Oh, I really want to go there! And you'll be able to smoke in a corner and we won't even have to see the bildoungs anymore!" The foreign words made her tongue twist and hiss, but she didn't seem to care. Kanna resisted for a little while; but in the end she let herself be convinced, and they went to find a little green corner. The tall, colorful trees were easier on the eyes for Jeanne than the tall skyscrapers around; that pause was very welcome, she realized.

"Go play somewhere else, brats," Kanna said while lighting a cigarette. A young man, dressed in a green uniform, told her in mediocre english (he must have taken her for a tourist), that the park was a no-smoke zone, being close to the hospital. He received only a cold stare; thus started to stammer. Avoiding her gaze, his attention fell to the tatoo covering her shoulder. Frowning, he reached out to grasp her arm and look closer.

An action he would soon learn to avoid.

In a second, Kanna had grabbed him by the collar, her blue eyes scanning the flushed face of her prey. "You," she growled, and Jeanne felt Shamash wake up close to her, "I really don't like you." And she head-butted him.

The boy fell to the ground. Mathilda sighed. "We'll need to go. Jeanne, you can run right?" A bit confused, the albino nodded. Marion tugged at her arm and led her away. They had to find another park after running. The one Mathilda decided to settle in was on a large square. Said square was divided between a kiddie park, with seesaws and trees, and a small plaza made out of pure white stone.

Once in, Kanna almost managed to enter a fight with a young woman who didn't want "a junkie" near her children. Jeanne thanked God that the German girl didn't hack the poor human girl into pieces, something she suspected was a very real possibility.

"Come on, Kanna-nee, you'll get us into trouble again," chuckled Mathilda.

"I hate this pointless trip and this awful city," growled Kanna. A long... silence followed her words, which surprised Jeanne - Mathilda seemed to love teasing her sister, why was she letting go of such an occasion...? Ah, maybe that was because she had left Jack at home (following a bet made by Zen). Hn. She'd have to delve deeper into that. Would she...? Ah, well. Why would the albino care? Those folk weren't her own. It had just been a week... She couldn't be forming attachment to people after just a week.

Kanna quickly told them to get lost so she could smoke in peace, leaning against a tree. Slightly defiant, the little albino, and soon enough the trio was hopping over the barriers circling the kid area. Well, Mathilda hopped over it just fine, but then had to go back to help Marion climb over it, and laughed her head off when she noticed Jeanne's dress had caught in the metal hooks. At least she helped afterwards. That was definitely unexpected. Oh well; in the end they reached their goals: the merry-go-rounds and other seesaws were spread out in front of their eyes. Marion set her sights on a brightly-colored roundabout. There were human kids riding it, of course, but Chuck's dark aura was enough to make them reconsider, and soon the blond girl was sitting on it. Mathilda grabbed the handles and pulled hard to make it turn before jumping onboard; and soon the two witches were laughing loudly.

Jeanne was still standing uneasily in front of them. Those were... The two cruel and cold-hearted Shamans who had threatened a shopkeeper only minutes before. But now they were playing like little wee children... Like people of their actual age, in fact. It was a little weird. Just a tiny bit weird. Especially given how wide Marion smiled; she never smiled that way before.

She would have discreetly left them there and tried to hunt Luchist down, but too much time had been lost already. She would have next to no luck finding him again, in such a crowded city filled with foreign people. And if she got lost - she would never hear the end of it. So she stayed there, standing awkwardly and silently talking to Shamash.

Marion was looking at her with her wide green eyes, her smile still wide and kind as the ride slowly came to a halt. When it was finally stopped, she hopped down, strode over to grab the albino's hand, and brought her back to the platform. Dumbstruck (find non ableist synonym), Jeanne didn't protest, and let herself be seated on what to her seemed to be a devil-produced torture instrument. Mathilda whined a little, not really happy to be pushing not only one but two girls at once, but then quickly got to pushing again.

This strangely common game lasted probably half an hour, Jeanne and Mathilda pushing the metal bars in turns (Mathilda had provoked Jeanne to get her to participate. The albino was having trouble with reverse psychology... Oh well, it would come in time, Shamash decided.)

When the trio finally left the ride, the three girls waddled over to a grass patch and fell on their backs, trying to regain control of their breathing. The world was spinning around them, dangerously fast as far as Jeanne's stomach was concerned. Shamash himself seemed uneasy, unable to comprehend what Jeanne was transmitting to him.

"I'm hungry," suddenly decided Mathilda, standing back up. "After what just happened?" Jeanne's voice was maybe a little nauseous still, she wasn't sure she could actually stand. Well that would for sure be the last time she ever climbed atop such a thing, if she listened to her upset stomach...

"Come on now, don't be a baby," scolded the redhead while taking Marion's hand to help her get back to her feet. The albino followed suit, slowly, and the trio turned back towards the entrance of the square, where Kanna waited for them.

What had just happened... it was still replaying in her mind. So very... strange. Marion was holding Chuck in a different manner now, and she was... smiling. Mathilda walked more... freely as well, humming to herself.

"Kanna-nee, we're here!"

The young teenager almost jumped, swearing under her breath as her cigarette fell to the ground. Then she turned to face the trio, her hands on her hips. She was trying to act calmly, Jeanne knew, but... Something was off. The cobalt gaze lingered too long on her; instead of ignoring her like she usually did, Kanna seemed... worried about the albino? And when she spoke, her voice was off too, too rough, too uncertain:

"You brats are already here? Don't you want to stay in the park for a little longer?"

Frowning, the albino took a few more steps towards the city hall, and scanned the place. The white stone reflected sunlight like a mirror; making it hurtful for anyone daring to set their untrained sights towards it. Jeanne, whose eyes did not ever take kindly to light, stumbled forward before Kanna's hand grabbed her, and brought her back under the dark trees. "Don't go too far up without me," she hissed, her eyes stuck on something Jeanne didn't see at first. Then she froze, her breath halting in her throat.

In front of her, less than twenty feet away, stood Marco Maxwell.

Marco. Marco. Marco was there, as if this whole week had been a mere dream. All dressed up in the blinding white garb of the X-Laws, he stood firm and straight in the afternoon sunlight. From afar, Jeanne could not distinguish his expression, but she could imagine his harsh blue gaze all the same, focused on the person in front of her. He held his weapon like he always did during training, with his right hand, and the arm did not tremble. At his side stood a woman Jeanne did not know, who also had her weapon trained on their opponent. She seemed even more tense than Marco, and even though she tried to show as much confidence, it was pure bluff on her part. She... probably did not have a quarter of Marco's furyoku. It had to be... Meene? She remembered Marco writing of a young recruit... But yet another element heightened Jeanne's shock. The man who was being currently targeted by the pair of angels - it was Luchist.

No, no, no. It should not have been happening this way. They wouldn't fight, would they? Not against one another. They couldn't - they wouldn't -

Suddenly a ray of light fell on Luchist's pistol - she hadn't noticed it, it was trained on Marco, no that was not possible - and the three adults were momentarily blinded. The young woman standing on Marrco's side did not have time to think twice: she shot, and an Archangel Jeanne had never seen before shot towards the former priest. The albino swallowed back a shriek, but it was for naught; two other gunshots were fired.

The blinding light of the Archangels hurt Jeanne's eyes, and she had to shield them for a while; but as soon as she could she looked again. Lucifel's mace was blocked a few centimeters away from the young woman's Archangel by Michael's sword. Now the three spirits were still, everyone waiting for the opponent's move.

"Don't waste your energy against him, Meene." growled the blond man with this voice, this voice she so dearly loved, all rough with emotion (she was instantly convinced that the blondie thought he was being unreadable). "Such a despicable traitor deserves a public execution, to make an exemple out of his deed. We will accomplish it during the tournament, not now." Luchist replied with a laugh. The steely blue eyes of his former student moved towards him. His voice then took on a new edge, one only Jeanne and Luchist could notice. "What happened to the Lady Maiden, traitor?"

Jeanne took a step towards them, wanting to announce herself, but she didn't have the time. Luchist got the words out first. And as he spoke, the smile he sported took for Jeanne an hideous curve. "There's never been a Lady Maiden, Marco. Only a small lost kid who stayed under my protection." He gestured to the corner where Jeanne and the other girls stood. Marco turned his head, and despite being too far to actually see his features, she sensed shock and surprise mingle with the dull hatred filling his brain.

"... I see. Meene, let's go. This place stinks of betrayal and madness, we're out of here." Jeanne couldn't say a word. She was frozen into place, her hands joined in front of her. She should... say something, scream, run, she would convince him, she would -

She did nothing. The young brunette who accompanied Marco nodded, and their Over-Souls vanished as they turned their heels and left the square.

Kanna made a disgruntled, spiteful noise. "He should kill them now. It's a waste of time, what he's doing here..."

Something in Jeanne broke, likely the last cable keeping her sanity locked in place. Up until then, she had obeyed Kanna, staying silent and still - but she couldn't let the blond man leave without talking to him. Not like this, not after all this time spent pining after him and her home, not when he clearly thought she had betrayed him. Her stomach twisted into knots, she felt so clearly close to breaking down... But... wasn't this the exit door she'd dreamed of? Wasn't it the way out of this awful horrid place she'd wanted to leave since day one? She would find Marco, and Hans, and everything would be normal and fine again, and she'd be alright, and -

Her feet moved before she asked them to, and before she even understood what her brain was screaming at her. She was running by then, running towards the narrow alleyway the X-Laws had disappeared in. She couldn't let him get away like this. It was - it was the only way she would get closure. And Shamash had said... Shamash had said that would make her happy, hadn't he? Closure would sate her heart.

"Don't go," warned a new voice, freezing her in place.

Jeanne twirled around, her teary eyes recognizing Hao standing there. How long had he been here? What did he plan to do? Would he try to hurt them...? She didn't care.

"Watch me," was her simple response, as she stared him down.

Then she ran after her angel, hopefully never to return. No one stopped her, no one tried to restrain her; anyways no one would have managed to. She was small, and not very athletic, but it took her less than a minute to reach the end of the square and flee in the really tiny alleyway. Shamash zoomed in behind her, watching the others to make sure she wasn't followed.

Once in the alley, Jeanne almost had to stop running. The 'street' was no larger than maybe two of her standing side by side; which meant only one adult could walk through, and would have to back away if someone came from the opposite side. A few meters ahead, she could see her angel's large back, his messy blond hair. The girl walked in front of him, probably so he could protect her from any attacks were such things to come. It really was him...

"Marco," Jeanne shouted, out of breath. She wasn't used to running at her top speed for long, especially since her body was still tired. Marco turned to face her, and from behind him the albino could also see the young woman halting.

"And what are you doing here?"

The blondie's tone was all but friendly. The pure hatred he had shown in front of Hao was still there, just as sharp and piercing. Someone who knew him well, though – as was the case for Jeanne – could easily see he was troubled.

She didn't answer. Her whole body was tense, and she shivered as the blondie looked her up and down, but she didn't answer. Didn't move, either.

Marco's hand clamped over his lieutenant's arm. "Meene, go forth. I'll take care of this girl." She – Meene – looked at him inquisitively, but he was staring back at Jeanne. She hesitated. "You… know each other?"
- Let's put it that way. I said go."

The brunette obeyed, leaving Marco and Jeanne alone. A few moments of silence vanished before they could actually pronounce a word.

She couldn't stop staring. He was the exact same person she knew, fourteen days hadn't changed him at all. She could still count every line on his forehead, could still guess his every move because he actually made it. He was still the very same person, just as tall, just as… radiant as he usually was.

Everything was going to be just fine. She would give him the whole story, from its very start, Luchist, Hao, the camp, Shamash. He would be outraged first, then proud, then worried, but he would understand. He would understand and he would bring her back home, and he would convince Luchist too…

"Why are you staying here looking at me that way?" He growled, crossing his arms. "I should have executed you the second I saw you, so get out of my sight. Do not tempt me."

Her eyes widened. His words seemed to dance before her eyes. It would almost have felt better if he just kicked her in the stomach. In front of her unnerving stillness, and more probably in front of her shocked, wounded expression, he tensed and went on: "have you gone deaf? I will not have any dealings with traitors. To say I trusted you…
- Marco, Marco," she found herself repeating. Her mind was swirling with words she had to say, but could not. It was easy, so very easy, she just had to explain everything, to say it all, and then it would make sense to him, and then she could go back home and…

She took a step forward, her arms coming up to embrace the blond man.

It only upset him more. "No!"

He violently shoved her away, sending her flying and crashing against the street wall with a dull sound. Bouncing, the child ended up sitting on the floor, her legs and skirt right in the water pooling in the gutter. Shell-shocked, she found herself to be unable to breathe. She couldn't – he had just…

Marco himself seemed to hesitate, as if taken aback by his own move. For a while, he appeared unable to react, unconsciously moving towards her to help her up, to check whether she was okay, to apologize – no. In spite of his own feelings, she was still a traitor. She had joined Hao. She had joined a group of murderers, and for that, he had to –

"Do consider that everything I owed you, I have now paid in full," he growled, as if breathless. His voice sounded forced, his manners were fake, she knew he wasn't being true to himself! She heard him swallow, hard. Then he looked at her one last time, and turned away, took a few steps. "M-marco," she whispered, shaken. But he didn't come back, and his steps faded into nothing.

Jeanne remained there, a little broken doll without anyone looking for her, just like someone had said, so long ago...

She blanked out, for a second or an eternity.

Then, softly:

"You'll end up dead, you know, if you keep wandering around enemies defenseless."

Jeanne did not stir. Her eyes were stuck on a particular brick of the other wall, and her soul in a world no one else could see. She was still sitting against the stone pavement, her once bright white dress drenched in putrid rainwater. It had rained a little since Marco had left, one could deduce it from the way her hair was sticking to her skin, the way she shivered, the water droplets on her hands. Or maybe those came from a different type of cloud.

The brown-haired shaman walked up to her, his fists deep in the pockets of his pants. Small as she was, those were the only part of him she could see in this position, and she didn't move to look at his face. For a while, nobody talked; Jeanne was elsewhere, and the Fire Shaman watched her carefully. She must have looked quite ridiculous, with her wet clothes and shattered illusions.

"Have you understood yet?" The voice wasn't hard or sharp, not even mocking. It was... gentle, soft; this tone showed... that he wasn't out for revenge. Maybe. She had trouble focusing. He sighed, and a slender hand came into her field of vision. He was offering it to help her stand back up.

There was a pause, a silence, a blink.

Then she raised her head, slightly. Her hair fell out of her face, letting her see him better as she tried to decipher his intentions. Mouth agape, wide unfocused eyes, she really didn't look like much. "I... This... doesn't change anything," she managed to say. "My mission is still..." She couldn't finish. Her voice shook, her former strength was gone. The water felt icy cold on the tender flesh of her feet, and there were dark marks there, where the plastic of her sandals had dyed them brown.

"Why would it still be important to you?" He seemed almost... interested. The young girl didn't answer for the longest time, her eyes filled with an emotion that chocked her out of her words. Then she took his hand and stood back up, apparently oblivious to the dirty water that immediately began to pour from her dress. She stared still, her eyes empty of all emotion. "That's... Because that's all... All I have?" What she meant by that, she wasn't sure. What it meant was too complex, and too hard to hear for her, so she turned around, unable to face him any longer.

Another sigh. She annoyed him. Obviously.

"What about Luchist? Or Mattie?" Don't go around telling me you don't like them. What did your precious Marco do for you to care this much? You wouldn't let anyone else scold you the way he did. Aren't you stronger than this? You survived the Iron Maiden. You survived the initiation. Will you let this pitiful man's rejection be your downfall?"

She didn't think she could respond. She wasn't sure what to do. Tears welled up in her eyes. This seemed... Too hard a choice for her to make. What was she supposed to do? Say that, yes, she was stronger than this? She wanted to, but... was she?

"It's all up to you, Jeanne. If you say you are. then you will be. If you can't say it, you can stop hoping to kill me right now. You won't be able to."

She gritted her teeth. She wasn't sure. She wanted to say... to say she was afraid, to admit she didn't think she could go on without Marco at her side, without all the reassurance and the joy he brought... He was her world. Had been for almost two years. Every move, every thought led her back to him. Training, fighting, eating... Everything she did made her want to run to him and tell him about it. Standing alone...? She would never be able to...

"You've done it for two weeks already, Jeanne. You've grown. Don't take that step back. Don't stay in the past. Else your fears will come true, and you'll have a reason to be afraid. Don't be weak, Jeanne," was the last thing Hao whispered, before she heard him turn away, walk away, no... Her feet refused to budge. Would she be alone now? On the streets again?

... No. Jeanne managed to shake off the ice that seemed to have locked her into place. She wasn't sure. Couldn't be sure. But she sure would try as if she were. Turning around, she ran behind him, grabbed his hand. She was crying now, loud sobs, she was being really pathetic, but she couldn't help it. At first she tried to conceal it, but gradually it wasn't just possible anymore, and she threw her head back, weeping openly.

"Closure... Hurts more than I could ever have imagined," she admitted in between wracking sobs.

"Closure hurts more than anything," Hao nodded quietly. "Getting closure is ripping out the part of your heart that belonged to the other person. It frees you, but it leaves you bleeding out. I told you not to go.
- I know. Thank you for that. It's odd, to be thanking an enemy like this..."

He didn't reply, and they went back to camp together.