THE ONE WHO TALKS

The moment Ragna's bell rang, Godori was out the door.
He didn't wait for Amana, who called something after him about *lunch*. He didn't wait for Zeika, who muttered something about *idiots with no sense of time*. He took the corridors at a run, sandals slapping the polished boards, dodging a river of Class 5 trainees spilling out of the classroom behind him, all fifty-odd of them talking at once.
"Did you hear that part about the beasts?"
"I'm never sleeping again."
"Hey, who has my brush?"
Godori reached the upper hall in record time and skidded to a stop in front of a pair of sliding doors. Beyond them, a calm voice was droning on about the finer points of kai circulation. He pressed his ear to the paper screen.
*Still in class.*
He grinned. He had so much to tell her. He wanted to tell her about the beasts, and the lecture, and the way Ragna had drawn the circles without even looking. So he did the only sensible thing. He turned around, set his back against the cool wooden wall beside the door, slid down until he was sitting with his knees up, and waited.
A breeze drifted through the corridor window. Somewhere outside, a bird was complaining. Godori hummed a little tune, tapping his fingers on his knee.
He had been there for perhaps five minutes when he noticed the girl.
She was standing at the far end of the corridor, half hidden behind a pillar, and she was not being subtle about it. Her braid was hanging over one shoulder. One hand was clutching the other. She was whispering something to herself, very fast, with her eyes squeezed shut.
> **STATUS**> **Name:** Hana Tsukishiro> **Class:** 5> **Affinity:** Wind
"Okay," she breathed. "Okay, okay, okay. You can do this. Just walk up and say it. *Hi, Godori. Would you like to...* No, that's too stiff. *Hey, Godori!* No, too loud. *Godori-kun?* No no no, too..."
"Hana, you've said it four times," hissed a voice from the pillar next to her. Two other girls from Class 5 stood pressed behind it, craning their necks. "Just *go!*"
"I'm going!"
"You've been going for ten minutes!"
"I'm *going!*"
She was not going. Her feet had apparently forgotten what to do. She took a deep breath, smoothed her sleeves, squared her shoulders like a soldier marching into battle, and took exactly one step forward.
Then she stepped on the hem of her own robe, tripped, caught herself on the pillar, and stood there frozen with her face burning red.
Godori glanced up. "Oh, hey!" he called, waving cheerfully. "Hana, right? From my class?"
Hana made a sound like a startled kettle.
"Y-yes! Hi! Hello!" She marched toward him in a stiff, jerky walk, hands pressed against her sides. Behind the pillar, one of the girls covered her face with her sleeve.
"What's up?" Godori asked, and patted the floor next to him. "Are you waiting for somebody too?"
"No! Yes! I mean, not exactly..." Hana stopped a polite two steps from him and stared at the wall, the ceiling, and her own sandals, anywhere but his face. "I wanted to... um. Say something. To you."
"Sure! Go ahead!"
"It's about... the thing. The, um." Her voice cracked. "I saw your duel."
"Oh!" Godori's face lit up. "You did? Did you see Kai Reverse? Isn't it amazing? I still don't know how it works!"
"It was... really cool," Hana mumbled, and her ears turned pink. "You were really cool. And, um... the way you didn't give up. Even when he hit you. I thought... I thought that was..."
"Thanks!" Godori beamed. "That's what Irel keeps telling me. Don't give up!"
"Right. Irel." Hana's smile faltered for half a second, and then she squeezed her fists and forced the words out in a single breath. "Would you like to meet me by the pond tomorrow evening? Just the two of us?"
Silence.
Behind the pillar, one of the girls clapped her hands over her mouth. Somewhere down the corridor, a door slid open an inch.
Godori blinked.
Then his face lit up like a lantern.
"The pond?" he said. "Oh! Oh, that's a *great* idea!"
Hana's heart leapt. "R-really?"
"Yeah! It's perfect! There's tons of open space around there, and the water's good for balance drills!" He sprang to his feet, fists clenched with excitement. "I was just thinking I needed a bigger place to practise Kai Reverse! You've got a really good eye, Hana. I didn't even think of the pond!"
Hana's smile slid off her face.
"Um," she said. "That's not..."
"Evening's perfect! Less crowded!" Godori went on, counting on his fingers. "I'll ask Irel to come, she's the best at corrections. And Amana can do the water control! Oh, and Zeika can bring her sparks, we could use some pressure!" He turned back to her, shining. "Is that okay? Is it okay if I invite everyone?"
"...Everyone."
"Yeah! The more the better!"
Hana's face went through several colours at once. She opened her mouth, shut it, and opened it again. "I... was thinking... just the two..."
"Don't worry, I'll tell them all! It'll be great!"
And that was when the door behind him slid open.
It did not so much slide as *explode*. The paper screen of the classroom next door burst outward, and out spilled an avalanche of bodies, a tangle of Class 5 trainees stacked three deep, arms and legs and sandals everywhere. They hit the corridor floor in a heap.
"*Ow!* Get off me!"
"Stop pushing!"
"I can't see! Is she crying?"
"Who's crying?"
"I told you the screen wouldn't hold!"
At the bottom of the pile, with a stranger's elbow in her ribs, Zeika glared up at the ceiling. "I *told* you he'd ruin it," she growled. "I said it. I said it from the beginning."
"You were pressing as hard as anyone!"
"I was *investigating!*"
Fifty-odd faces, or what felt like fifty, turned slowly toward Hana. Dead silence fell over the corridor.
Hana stood stiff as a statue. Her face had gone from pink to scarlet to an alarming shade of white. Somewhere in the pile, a boy whispered, a little too loudly, "She asked him out. He said *training.*"
"I can *hear* you!" Hana squeaked.
"Wait, what?" said Godori. "Asked me *out*?"
The silence that followed was terrible.
Hana made one small, strangled noise. Then she spun on her heel, snatched up the edge of her robe, and walked away down the corridor with her head held high and her back rigid, the way a person walks when they are trying very hard not to run. Her two friends scrambled out from behind the pillar and hurried after her, throwing furious looks over their shoulders at the heap of trainees.
She made it all the way to the corner. Then, very clearly, they heard her break into a sprint.
"...Out where?" Godori said blankly, scratching his head. "Out to the pond? She did say the pond..."
A groan rose from the pile.
"Godori," Amana said wearily, picking herself up from the middle of it, her braid half undone. "You are *hopeless.*"
"What? What did I do?"
"Nothing," Dan said, rubbing his temple from somewhere near the floor. "That's the problem."
"Tragic," murmured a lazy voice above them.
Every head tilted back. Perched on the windowsill at the end of the corridor, sandals dangling, was Ragna Flamesworth, holding a rice ball in one hand and wearing a mask that couldn't hide the amusement in his eyes. "Truly tragic. And I only came to find my brush." He took a thoughtful bite. "Rule six. Don't ruin other people's confessions. I'll add it to the list. I've forgotten the rest."
"We weren't ruining anything!" a trainee at the bottom of the pile shouted.
"Mm," said Ragna, chewing. "Evidently."
The classroom door behind them slid open once more, softly this time, and the corridor went quiet.
Irel stood in the doorway with her notebook under one arm, looking at the heap of trainees, at the torn paper screen, at Zeika flat on her back, and finally at Godori, who was standing in the middle of it all with a baffled expression and a cheerful grin.
"Godori," she said. "What happened here?"
"Oh, Irel! You're done!" He beamed. "Someone invited me to train at the pond tomorrow! I told her you'd come!"
Irel's gaze travelled slowly across the corridor. It rested for a moment on the empty corner where Hana had vanished, then on the tangle of trainees staring at her with their mouths open, and last on Godori's perfectly innocent face.
"Is that what she asked," Irel said.
"Yeah! Why? Wasn't it?"
For a long moment, the Stone Queen did not answer. Something twitched at the corner of her mouth, so small that only Amana noticed.
"I'll come," Irel said at last. "I wouldn't miss it."
"Great!"
Behind her, Zeika let out a long, wheezing laugh and put her face in her hands. Amana turned to the ceiling as though praying for patience. And out in the courtyard, somewhere beyond the corner, a very embarrassed girl was never going to be seen near the pond again.