Archive of Our Own

“Stop white knuckling, you’ll wear your hands out.”

Azul wrenches his eyes away from his knees to look at Jamil. He’s floating on his broom effortlessly, arms crossed and unimpressed, completely unconcerned by the three story drop below them. The one Azul is trying to forget about.

“That’s easy for you to say.” Azul straightens up, but does not let go. “You’re naturally athletic; you can’t know what it’s like for me.”

“Flying’s just more common where I’m from,” Jamil says, and Azul can’t help but give him a critical, searching look. Jamil makes an irritated noise under his breath, guiding his broom up and away. “Vargas sent me down here to get you. Come on already.”

Azul cranes his head back; his classmates are all flying several meters above him, going through drills. Just thinking of being that high makes Azul’s head spin.

“I think I’m perfectly fine right where I am.”

“Not if you want to pass PE.”

“Don’t worry yourself about my grades, Jamil.” Azul tries to sound airy, but he can’t help the way his voice tremors when a gust of wind bats him around. Why is flying a required activity? It’s not like he’ll ever use it again, once he returns to the Coral Sea.

And what’s worse is that everyone can see his failure. If Azul were down on the ground he’d sink into it.

“Why am I the one who has to deal with this?” Jamil mutters, though his voice is still loud enough for Azul to hear. Normally, Azul would be happy to draw out even small crumbs of what he suspects is the true Jamil, but right now his thoughts are otherwise preoccupied. “Fine, just stay here, then. Coach will come down to yell at you soon enough.”

Azul gives him his best customer service smile. “I’ll deal with him when he comes; thank you, Jamil.”

Jamil makes that same irritated noise, then he rises up into the sky to join the others. Azul watches, trying to follow whatever drills they’re doing from his place below them, even though he can’t hear what Vargas is saying. The wind is picking up now, more and more - it whistles around Azul’s ears, making it difficult to control the broom.

Why couldn’t he just swim for PE instead, he wonders, as he tries to finish his laps. Then again, he was never a fast swimmer, and he hardly wants anyone to see his true form… Alas, no matter how he looks at it, he’s doomed to suffer this injustice.

He’s going over what blackmail material he has that might persuade Crowley to let him out of PE for the rest of the year (some kind of medical exemption, perhaps?), when the wind gusts harder than ever, whipping the front of his broom up, and then over.

“Gah!”

Azul’s legs slip from the broom, and he’s left dangling by his hands where they desperately grip to the handle. The wind rises, yanking him up another two or three meters, and Azul’s stomach swoops when he looks down at the retreating ground. His glasses, knocked askew by his tumble, slip from his nose and fall out of sight.

“No, no, no,” he mumbles to himself, gripping the broomstick as tight as he can. He attempts to pull his legs back up onto it, but he knows that’s a futile endeavor before he even tries; his arms just can’t fight the force of gravity.

He looks up to his classmates above him, now all blurry, indistinguishable blobs without his glasses. None of them seem to have noticed his struggles yet, so he opens his mouth to call out, but in his terror he can barely make a sound, and the wind forces the words back.

Azul’s heart hammers in his ears, his mind going foggy from panic. He needs to focus, needs to get control of his broom and get to the ground, but for once in his life the hardest thing for him to do is think.

The broom is going haywire; it jerks Azul around like it’s trying to shake him loose. His hands are giving out, his legs flailing for purchase that isn’t there, and he knows he’s going to fall before he finally does.

For a moment, it’s almost like floating in the sea, the sense of weightlessness he feels tranquil. The blue sky opens up above him like the water’s surface, his reaching hands stretched out towards it like the story of the Mermaid Princess who once longed for the land.

And then his stomach drops - a heavy weight tugs on his limbs, and his face turns to the ground below, rapidly approaching.

He thinks he might have screamed as he started dropping, but he isn’t sure. The taste of iron suddenly blooms in his mouth.

Wind and terror roaring in his ears, Azul knows he has to do something, anything, or it’s over. Dying in flight class… No, he can’t accept that. Not here, not now, not when he has so much left to accomplish!

He throws his arms out, and summons all the wind magic he knows, blasting it at the ground in a last desperate attempt.

Cushion the fall, cushion the fall, cushion the-

Before Night Raven College, Azul had never experienced the sensation of falling.

He’d been pushed and shoved and knocked around, he’d tripped and stumbled over coral and seafloor debris, but he’d never actually fallen; the sea was always there to catch him. The water cradled its inhabitants, thicker and kinder than the air on land. Of all the dangers of the ocean, that was one he had been spared.

The first time he fell down was the day he got his human form. He’d hoped to take to walking quickly, with his experience on his octopus legs, but he’d stumbled and fallen after only a few steps like a newborn foal. Floyd had laughed, then gone down himself almost immediately afterward, a gangly pile of limbs spread on the floor. Jade, who had stumbled first, sat chuckling at the pair of them in his revenge.

They’d hardly been the only ones - the other new students from the Coral Sea were equally uncoordinated, many of them leaning on each other for support or grabbing onto walls. Humans headed to orientation looked at them like they were freaks, most going ahead without stopping to offer help.

Like so many other things that made him seem weak, Azul knew he hated falling. For the helpless swoop of his stomach as he went down, for the jelly-like feeling in his body after impact with the ground, for the way others looked at him.

Jade had gotten back on his feet; he offered a hand, but Azul didn’t take it. He forced himself up by his own power, straightened his back, and took step after step forward, putting each foot down solidly before starting the next.

He didn’t fall again that night. He wouldn’t let himself fall again.

“...zul. Azul.”

Azul opens his eyes, and immediately wishes he hadn’t.

Shockwaves of pain course through him, each time a different body part battling for his attention. Black spots burst constantly in his sight line, threatening to blind him. The pounding in his head makes him nauseous, and the light from the sun isn’t helping. He tries to throw an arm over his eyes to block it, but even the slightest movement hurts so badly he nearly passes out again.

“Hey, don’t try to move,” someone says, and they bend over him. They’re close enough that Azul realizes it’s Jamil, even without his glasses - his braids slip over his shoulder and brush against Azul’s cheek.

“Wha-” Azul starts to say, but chokes on hot bile working its way up his throat. Jamil mutters a curse under his breath and turns Azul’s head, just in time for him to vomit all over the grass. Something red is mixed in with the remains of his lunch, and Azul shudders.

“Blood…”

“It’s okay,” says Jamil, pulling his head back straight. “I think… I think you just bit your tongue on the way down.”

That’s hardly reassuring. Azul shudders again.

“That was quick thinking, using wind magic to break your fall,” Jamil continues. “That’s not a compliment, by the way. What kind of idiot falls off their broom…”

Azul would love to respond to that eloquently, but all he can do is whine. He winces and closes his eyes.

“Hey, don’t pass out again.” Jamil gives his shoulder the lightest nudge, and it’s enough to make sparks burst across Azul’s vision. “You may have a concussion. I’d be more surprised if you don’t, actually.”

Azul understands the wisdom in what Jamil is saying, but keeping his eyes open takes a lot of energy. The pain wracking his body is unbearable, the sun makes his headache pound harder. His arms hurt, his back hurts, his legs…

His two legs hurt. His two legs? Two?

Somehow it doesn’t feel right to Azul. Why can he only feel two? Where are the other six? What happened to them?

Azul’s thoughts jumble together so fast he can’t make sense of them. He fell off his broom? PE? Why was he in the air? Why wasn’t he swimming? Where are his legs? Why can’t he feel them? Where are Jade and Floyd?

His eyes tear up. He wishes Jamil would stop staring at him.

“My legs…” The words are hard to get out; his tongue feels swollen in his mouth, and the nausea threatens him again, but he forces himself to swallow. “Why can’t I… feel them?”

Jamil’s eyes go wide. “You can’t feel your legs!?” He sounds panicked now.

Azul gives his head the smallest shake in answer.

Jamil curses again, sitting up to look him over. “We thought you slowed yourself down enough you didn’t crack your spine…” He trails off, gives his head a shake. “Coach Vargas went to get help, alright? He’ll be back soon. You’ll be fine, Azul.”

Azul doesn’t feel like he’ll be fine. Where are his legs? What happened to them? Tears start to form in earnest now. He wonders if the rest of the class is staring at him and he wishes they wouldn’t.

Almost like he can read Azul’s thoughts, Jamil turns back to the other students and waves a hand. “Give him some space, guys, come on.” Azul can’t see how close they were, but he hears some shuffling as they move away.

It doesn’t change the fact that Jamil is still staring at him, but Azul will have to live with that.

“You’ll be fine,” Jamil repeats, his voice a little softer this time, or maybe Azul is just imagining things. He wonders again where Jade and Floyd are, before remembering they don’t have class together anymore.

He feels like he’s forgetting other key details, but before he can drum up the energy to ask, Vargas appears over him.

“Hey, he’s awake,” he says, sounding more jovial than Azul would think he should, when a student almost died in his care. “That’s a good sign.”

“Yes.” That’s Crewel now, much more composed, sinking to his knees next to Azul, careful to keep from sitting on his elegant coat.

“Here, Ashengrotto, drink this up.” Crewel holds something to his lips, and Azul doesn’t know what it is, but he has no choice but to swallow as the liquid fills his mouth. It tastes terrible, only worsening as it mixes with blood and bile, but almost immediately he feels a numbing sensation come over his limbs, the pain finally receding.

Above him, Crewel is doing something; Azul can’t track it, his mind becoming increasingly hazy. More magic falls over his body, but he can’t feel it now.

“Good boy. You can sleep now, if you want.”

Azul’s eyes fall closed gratefully. The last thing he hears is Jamil. “He said he can’t feel his legs.”

When Azul wakes again, it’s not to the sky and the grass but to fluorescent lights, white walls, and the heavy smell of antiseptic. There’s something cool and heavy laying next to him, and the sound of someone flipping the pages of a book periodically.

He groans, low in his throat, and blinks his eyes to clear them of sleep. There’s a light thump as the book is set aside, then Jade is leaning over him, just close enough that he’s in focus even with Azul’s poor eyesight.

“Ah… seems you’re actually with us, this time.”

Azul tries to say something to that, but his tongue feels swollen in his mouth and his throat is like sandpaper, so all that comes out is a gravelly, hoarse, “What?”

“Hold on.”

Jade moves back for a moment, then returns with a cup, a straw poking out. He guides the straw to Azul’s lips.

“Slow sips. Your tongue is still healing.”

Azul wraps his lips around the straw and sucks gently, the water instantly cooling his parched throat. It’s hard to obey Jade’s command when all he wants is to drain the whole glass at once, but he manages.

Finally, once he feels hydrated enough to speak again, he says, “What happened to my tongue?”

“You very nearly bit through it.” Jade sets the cup aside. “Don’t worry, though; Professor Crewel says it will thoroughly heal once the magic’s done working.”

“Oh,” says Azul. Then, “Ah… I fell off my broom.”

Jade chuckles, and Azul throws a glare his way, stern even though his body feels like lead. Jade is not intimidated, but when is he ever?

“I’m not sure how you managed to forget that.”

“I’m on what I assume is a great deal of numbing potion.” The unbearable pain that had consumed him after his fall is mostly gone now, replaced by the soreness of stiff muscles and the odd tugging feeling of bones healing at a rapid pace. It’s not the most comfortable sensation, but it’s better than the alternative.

“Of course,” says Jade, his voice still amused, but then his tone turns more businesslike. “You broke your left arm when you caught yourself on the ground, and your left leg. You’ve cracked a few ribs, and you have a concussion.” Jade’s voice gets a little quieter. “The wind magic you used broke your fall, or it would have been… much worse.”

Azul doesn’t want to think about how much worse it could have been. Every time he remembers the helpless feeling of dangling from his broom, knowing no one was coming for him, that he was going to fall, he feels his stomach drop, his head spinning.

Like he’s falling all over again.

“Breathe,” says Jade, and Azul realizes he’s stopped. He takes a deep breath in, then lets it out, matching Jade’s pace.

(He half expects Jade to mock him for that, but Jade doesn’t. Perhaps he’s overthinking…)

“How long do I have to stay here?” he asks after he has his breathing under control. Jade settles back in his chair.

“Professor Crewel said it will take two or three days for the bones to heal completely, and he suggests bedrest for forty eight hours for your concussion. After that, you can start easing yourself back into things until you feel better. You’re excused from class for the rest of the week. I’ll collect your homework.”

“Bring it here, and my paperwork, too. I’ll need something to do while I’m stuck here.”

Jade shakes his head. “No. While you’re healing from your concussion, it’s better that you don’t work on anything.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Doctor’s orders.” Jade is grinning again, amused by Azul’s irritation.

“This is ridiculous. I’m going to get so behind.” Azul huffs moodily, eying Jade. “And you’re here, too. Did you leave Floyd in charge of the lounge?”

In answer, Jade points to the right side of Azul’s bed, and for the first time he looks over.

The cool and heavy thing he felt is Floyd, who is propped up on one arm when Azul faces him, grinning mischievously. “Heehee, Azul didn’t notice me.”

“Floyd.” Azul glares at him, trying to hide his surprise. “I’m amazed you were able to keep quiet that long.”

“It was sooooo booooriiiing.” Floyd stretches out languidly, his arm flopping right over Azul’s injured chest. “I thought you would never look.”

“Careful, Floyd,” says Jade, but his voice is far more amused than chastising. “He may shatter if you hit him wrong.”

“Nee, but Azul isn’t hurt on this side.” Floyd pokes Azul’s right arm experimentally, and though it doesn’t hurt at all, Azul still winces.

“Please, be gentle. If something rebreaks because of you I’ll have to stay here even longer.”

“Fiiiine, but only because this place is boring.”

Floyd sits up, and Azul does too (Jade quickly leans in to help him prop up on a pillow), looking down at himself to take stock. His left arm is in a cast, laid out beside him; his leg is similarly bound in plaster. Both of them, he notes, are covered in doodles. He’s mostly naked, other than his underwear.

“The casts are just to keep the bones set while they heal,” says Jade, and Azul nods. “I brought you your pajama top, and some athletic shorts, if you’d like to get dressed. And here,” he holds out a pair of glasses, “I brought your spares.”

“Thank you, Jade. Just give me the top for now.”

Getting it on is more difficult than he would like, especially when Floyd keeps reaching over to “help,” but eventually he has it on. He struggles one-handed with the buttons until Jade reaches over and does them for him - it’s humiliating, but at least Jade doesn’t tease him.

“How do your legs feel?” Jade asks once they’re done, and Azul has collapsed back against his pillows again (he knew, theoretically, that magic that mends bones takes a lot of energy, but experiencing it himself is taking more out of him than he expected).

“Hm, not really like anything. But I guess that’s the magic at work.”

Jade’s face is impassive. So is Floyd’s, which is what makes Azul suddenly feel worry in the pit of his stomach. “I see…” Jade’s voice is hesitant.

“What? What is it?” Azul looks between the two of them, dread growing. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

“Ah, it’s probably nothing.” Jade waves his hand, but his tone has not improved. “It’s just that… when you first woke up, you were saying that you couldn’t feel your legs. Professor Crewel examined you for spinal injuries-”

“What!?”

Azul sits up again, pulling the sheets back to look at his legs more fully. What are they saying? That he’s paralyzed!?

“-but he didn’t find anything,” Jade finishes quickly, leaning over him. “Breathe, Azul.”

“Why don’t you try wiggling your toes?” Floyd suggests, his voice light even though he’s watching them both more sharply than normal. Azul, still panicking, looks back at his legs.

He tries to move them, terror mounting until he sees his toes wiggle - first the right leg, then the left, where they peek out from his cast.

Then he pulls his right leg up and lowers it back down, and all three of them seem to let out a breath at once.

“Why did you two scare me like that!?” snaps Azul, looking between them. “I think I’ve been terrorized enough today, thank you!”

“Apologies, Azul.”

“Why’d you say you can’t feel them then?” asks Floyd, moving to the end of the bed to pinch Azul’s toes playfully. Azul gives him a half-hearted kick.

“Who knows? I had just fallen four stories and was in immense pain, I was probably…”

Delirious.

Oh.

Azul feels his face grow warm. “I… was asking about my other six legs.”

Floyd and Jade exchange a look over the top of his head, and then Floyd starts laughing. “Heh heh heh! Azul forgot he only has two legs right now!”

“Now, now, he was in quite a lot of pain,” scolds Jade, but his voice sounds just as amused, and he puts a hand to his face to hide his smile.

“Both of you are awful,” Azul grumbles, hiding his face from them with his uninjured hand and resisting Floyd’s attempts to tug it back. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be running the lounge?”

“Nah, Jade thought we should close up shop tonight.”

“Someone had to be here to take care of you. And Floyd was not excited about the idea of staying in the dorm while the two of us were here.”

“I decorated your casts while you were sleeping,” says Floyd. Azul thinks he could have put that together himself.

“It’s getting late, now, anyway.” Jade glances away, to the window. “No sense in opening at this time on a school night.”

“Behind on schoolwork, behind on profits… could this be any worse?” Azul moans, throwing his arm dramatically over his face.

“You could be dead,” says Floyd, a little too seriously, and Azul flinches. The room suddenly feels too cold.

“He could be, but he isn’t,” says Jade, quiet but sure. “Rest for now, Azul. If you need anything, just let us know.”

Rest sounds good - the energy is all sapped out of him at this point. Still, he lowers his arm and eyes Jade.

“And what do the two of you want, for your services?”

“Awww, Octy. Just get better for us, okay?” Floyd snuggles back down on the bed next to him, and Azul notes he takes up more than half the space. “It’d be boring without you around.”

Somehow, Azul appreciates that. He appreciates it a lot, truth be told. Appreciates that they aren’t leaving him.

He chalks the way his eyes suddenly mist up to being tired. That’s all it is.

“Well.” His throat is tight. He clears it. “Thank you both. Goodnight.”

Jade pulls the cover back up over both him and Floyd, then reaches for his book. “Goodnight, Azul.”

“Night, Azuuuul!”

Floyd is cool against him. The turning of pages lulls him back to sleep.

The next afternoon, Azul lays in his bed, feeling like he might go crazy.

He’s never just sat around with nothing to do, not since he was a child. He was always studying, working on grimoires, or perfecting his signature spell. Now, he’s not allowed to do much besides sleep, and talk to his occasional visitors.

Who, so far, have only been the twins and Crewel, who came to check on how he was healing. Jade and Floyd brought him breakfast before leaving to get ready for class, and came back when it was lunchtime. They even brought him some fried chicken, and when he’d protested, Jade had said, “You need energy to heal your bones.”

That had livened things up a bit, but now no one else is in the room, everyone finishing their afternoon classes and heading to clubs. Azul wouldn’t mind the time to himself if he were allowed to be working, but instead he stares at the wall and laments how many more days of this he’ll have to endure.

He’s debating taking yet another nap, when there’s a noise like someone grumbling outside, and then the door suddenly bursts open, a giant gift basket with legs walking through.

The basket is piled high with food, snacks and cakes and chocolates of all kinds, and he can see a few books and CD cases crammed inside as well. It’s so much that he can’t see the face of the person carrying it, though from the continued grumbling he has a guess.

“Jamil?”

The gift basket is unceremoniously dropped at the foot of his bed, revealing Jamil himself, who rolls his shoulders in relief. “I told him not to go overboard…”

“Jamil,” Azul repeats, to get his attention. “What is this?”

“It’s for you. Kalim wanted me to bring it over. A get well present, he said.” Jamil gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “He would have come, too, but he had a club meeting.”

Azul appreciates that, actually; much as Kalim makes for a great target, he’s also a little… much, at times. “Ah, I see. Please extend my deepest gratitude to him; and thank you too, Jamil.” Although, now he would have to find some way to repay them… A nearly impossible task with Jamil taking care of Kalim’s every whim.

“Don’t thank me, I just hauled it over here.”

“You say that, but…” Azul eyes the food in the basket; none of it looks store bought. “Am I mistaken, or are you responsible for all the food?”

Jamil glances at him, then at the food, then sighs and rubs the back of his head. “I only did it because Kalim told me to.”

“Of course, but still, it must have been a lot of work. And it all looks so appetizing!” Azul smiles, spreading his uninjured hand out in invitation. “You know, we could always use such a gifted chef at Mostro Lounge-”

“No.”

“Ah, well, it never hurts to try.”

“Even laid up in bed, you’re the same as ever.” Jamil walks around the gift basket to stand at Azul’s side, looking him over. Azul is glad Jade helped him get into an actual shirt so he looks somewhat presentable. “So does that mean you’ll make a full recovery?”

“Yes. Professor Crewel thinks my bones will have healed by tomorrow, and I can return to my dorm. But I’m meant to refrain from classes until next week…” He sighs dramatically. “I’ll have to pull some late nights to catch up.”

“Knowing you, you’re already a few days ahead, anyway.” Before Azul can ask if that’s a compliment, Jamil continues. “What about your legs?”

“The left one was broken in the fall, but I should be up and walking on it by tomorrow.”

“So you can feel them now?”

Azul fights to keep his expression impassive. Is he going to have to keep explaining that…? “Ah, well, I was in a lot of pain at the time, you know… Who knows what I was saying?”

“You sounded pretty sure.” Jamil sounds unconvinced, and Azul curses his past self.

“I was only… well. Confused. Why I could only feel two legs.”

Jamil’s eyebrow goes up. “Only two?”

“I was asking about the other six. The ones I naturally have in my merman form.”

At that, Jamil actually looks surprised for a moment. “...Huh.”

“What?”

“I knew you were a merman, but I never thought about the “octopus” part being literal.”

“Well, it is. Not that it’s any concern of yours.” Azul goes to fold his arms over his chest, then winces at a sudden sharp pain from both his arm and his ribs. The numbing potion must be wearing off.

Jamil catches his look of discomfort; annoyingly perceptive, Azul can’t help but think. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just… need more potion. For the pain.”

“I can get it for you.”

Before Azul can say anything to stop him, Jamil goes to the potion cabinet against the wall, opening it and examining the shelves. He plucks out a vial, then comes back, holding it out. “Here.”

“...You’re sure this is the correct one? If you’ve gotten me something weird-”

“If you want me to go get Professor Crewel, I can.” Jamil shakes the vial. “But I know the potions in the infirmary. It’s fine.”

Azul debates it for a moment. Jamil has never been particularly fond of him, but Azul doubts he would actually try to poison him in the infirmary. Moreover, he’s seen Jamil in alchemy - much as he stifles himself, Azul knows he knows what he’s doing.

He takes it, downing the foul tasting liquid in one gulp. He knows from the taste that it’s the right one, and the numbing effect that quickly takes hold after only confirms it. He sighs in relief as the pain subsides, sinking back into the pillows.

“Thank you, Jamil. You certainly do know your potions.”

“I have to, in case something happens to Kalim.”

Azul expects him to leave after that, so it’s a surprise when he sits down in Jade’s chair instead, watching Azul thoughtfully.

“...Something on your mind?” he asks when he can’t take the scrutiny further, and Jamil shifts, uncomfortable.

“I was just thinking, it’s good that you didn’t die.”

“I’m… glad you think so?” Azul pulls himself up a little straighter, affronted. “Maybe I should have sent for Professor Crewel after all…”

“I didn’t poison you.” Jamil’s eyes go up, not quite rolling, but still clearly exasperated. “I meant, because Vargas sent me to check on you, and I left you, and you fell.”

“...Oh. I see.” So he… feels guilty? Azul can hardly imagine that. It’s not as though Jamil pushed him. “I see why you’re concerned, but it’s not your fault that I fell. The wind simply caught me unawares.”

“It’s because you haven’t worked on your fundamentals enough,” Jamil says, then sighs and leans back in his chair. “That aside… Vargas still made you my responsibility, even if I didn’t want it. Protecting Kalim is my lifelong job; you can see why it wouldn’t reflect well on me, if a classmate died while I was supposed to be looking out for them.”

“Ah, so that’s how it is.” Azul sighs dramatically, closing his eyes. “And here I thought you might be worried about me, but you were only worried about your reputation!”

“Heh. That’s right.” He can hear the smile in Jamil’s voice.

“And after I’ve been nothing but nice to you… Ah! I’m wounded, Jamil!” He opens his eyes again, looking over at him. “Though now that you mention it, I was your responsibility, and I’ve been so severely injured… But don’t worry, I’m sure I can come up with a way for you to make it up to me.”

Jamil’s eyes go wide, then he scoffs under his breath. “You really are irritating… Maybe it would have been better if you’d bitten your tongue off in the fall.”

Azul stills at that, eyes darting down to his lap. What if he had bitten off his tongue? What if he’d broken more than his arm and leg and a few ribs? What if-

“Azul? Hey. Breathe.”

People have been saying that to him often lately. Azul does as Jamil says, though, feeling the fog that threatened his brain subside. The tremor in his hand where he grips the sheets slows to a halt.

“...Sorry,” says Jamil after a moment. “That was too far.”

“No. I’m fine. I’m alright.”

Despite his insistence, Jamil doesn’t look like he believes him. Azul isn’t sure he believes himself, for that matter. Every time he thinks he’s okay, the terror from the day before catches him by the throat.

(He wishes people weren’t around to witness it, when it happens. It makes him feel vulnerable. Pathetic. He waits for Jamil to mock him, but it never comes.)

“...Do you want to know what we went over in class today?” Jamil asks him, distracting him from his thoughts. “It would give you a head start on catching up.”

“Yes, please.” Azul sighs, irritated. “They say I can’t study because of my concussion, but it’s so dull in this place with nothing to do.”

“Alright. But breaking Crewel’s rules seems like a big risk.” Jamil smirks. “So consider this my way of making it up to you.”

Azul can’t help but chuckle at that.

“It’s a deal.”

That evening the twins come back in shifts, so the other can stay and oversee the lounge while they’re with Azul. Floyd sneaks in a deck of cards when it’s his turn, declaring the infirmary too boring without it, and the two of them play various games while snacking on the food Jamil left. (Mostly Floyd, though Azul does eat a bit of it. It would be a shame not to accept a gift, after all.)

Jade comes back after closing and reminds them both that Azul is “supposed to be resting his bruised brain,” but it isn’t difficult to cajole him into a round of poker, using some of the chocolate for bets. They keep playing until Azul feels himself being tugged down by the fatigue of the healing magic, falling asleep midway through a hand.

It had been a good one too, he thinks when he wakes up to the chocolate and cards cleared away. Ah well.

The morning routine from the day before repeats: the twins bring him breakfast, Crewel comes to check on him and declares his broken bones mostly healed. He says he’ll take the casts off after class, but that Azul will still have to take it slow for a few days while he regains his strength. Not that Azul plans to be running any marathons after this.

He’s glad he can take the casts off soon. Though the only place he’s had to go this whole time is the bathroom, getting around with them on is still cumbersome. He’s also looking forward to washing his hair.

He’s thinking these things and idly playing Solitaire with the cards Floyd left behind when the door opens a crack. A quick glance at the clock tells him lunch just started, so he’s expecting it to be the twins with food. However, the door remains where it is, not opening any further.

After a moment, Azul calls, “Ah, hello?”

“Ah, Azul… I w-wasn’t expecting- I mean, you’re awake…?”

Azul stares at the direction of the voice, then sighs, half-amused and half-exasperated. “Come in, please, Idia. There’s no reason for us to talk through the door like this.”

The door opens further, with Idia poking his head in. Azul beckons him on, and he steps all the way inside, quickly closing the door behind him.

“I thought you would be napping,” he says, and Azul shrugs.

“My bones are mostly healed, and I feel much more awake than I did yesterday.” Azul smiles. “Is there something you need? Ah, my apologies, but I won’t be able to make it to club today.”

“Yeah, I thought not…” Idia approaches the bed like Azul might suddenly come out of it and bite him, but Azul waits patiently. Usually Idia is not so timid around him as this, but he has a feeling the unfamiliar setting of the infirmary has more to do with it than Azul himself. “I heard what happened to you was a TKO.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that,” says Azul, partly because he’s not entirely sure what TKO means. “I merely fell.”

“This is why outside activities are evil…” Idia sits down in the chair, ruffling through his bag. After a moment, he holds a small box out to Azul. “Here. I got this in yesterday.”

“Is this… the Scalding Sands expansion pack for Fiefdom?” It’s one of Azul’s preferred deck building games; the expansion only released a few days ago.

“Yeah. I know you like that one… Even if it’s not a proper board game,” Idia adds in a whisper Azul can still plainly hear. “I was gonna get it anyway, but I thought, since you’re bedstuck and all, I’d give it to you now.” He reaches into his bag again. “And I brought the base game… if you want to play.”

Azul glances at the clock, then shrugs. “Alright… if it won’t take up your entire lunch.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just snack.”

Azul pulls his one uninjured leg up to give them a flatter surface on the bed (he expects to have to explain how he “couldn’t feel his legs” again, but Idia doesn’t ask), and the two of them set up the cards. The game is really best played with more people, but they’re used to modulating for two by now. Azul opens the new expansion box, taking a moment to admire the card art before picking the ones he feels are most interesting to add to the game.

“How long do you have to stay here?” asks Idia after they start their first hand.

“Crewel says I’ll be out of here this afternoon.” Azul sighs dramatically. “It will be nice to finally sleep in my own bed.”

“Mm. I can’t imagine being kept from my room this long.”

“It hasn’t been enjoyable. Besides being dull, I’m behind on all my work as Housewarden.”

“I was thinking more because my gaming rig is set up in my room.” Idia shrugs. “But yeah… guess you’d get behind on that too.”

“You’re quite clever, if only you had more work ethic.”

“I have plenty of work ethic. I spent all morning grinding an event.” Idia grins. “I only came here because I have some time before my LP fills back up.”

Azul never fully understands Idia when he talks about his mobile games like this, but he does know if he’s grinding then he’s probably tiering. Whatever that means. “Are you trying to “tier,” then?”

“Yeah. It’s best girl’s event. Gotta get the number one title. I’m even whaling for this one.”

More incomprehensible words. Except the last one. “Whaling is when someone spends a lot of money on it, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm…” Azul pauses to think of his next move, before laying down his cards for the hand. “Have you ever considered programming one of those games yourself? We could go into business together!”

“No way. I wouldn’t have time. Tonight an event in my MMO starts and I won’t have any downtime, even while my LP’s refilling.”

“Ah well. It was worth suggesting.”

A few more hands pass in relative silence, the two of them focused on the game. Azul is feeling good about it; of course, he’s generally better than Idia in strategy games, even if Idia has a strangely strong advantage over him when it comes to things based on luck.

Then Idia speaks up again. “Was it scary? Falling off your broom, I mean.”

Azul pauses, pulling his cards a little closer to his face protectively. He’d actually been distracted from everything by the game, but now…

He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly.

“I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Well, obviously not. Probably a zero out of ten, right?”

“Precisely.”

“I was always scared I would fall, but never actually did. Still hate doing it, though.”

“Mm…”

“...You’re not going to try again, are you?”

Azul stares at the cards. He hadn’t considered that. Hadn’t thought beyond getting out of the infirmary and catching up on work.

On Monday, he’ll have another PE class. Vargas may not make him jump back into flying right away, but Azul knows he won’t be able to get out of it forever.

“Uh, Azul… I think you should, um… take a breath-”

“Can everyone stop telling me to breathe!” Azul snaps, but the sharp gasp he takes after reminds him that he actually hadn’t been breathing. Why does that keep happening!?

Idia’s eyes are wide - he’s dropped his cards in his lap, hands pulled defensively against his chest. He looks like he wants to bolt, but he stays, watching Azul cautiously.

(He isn’t making fun of Azul, either. Still, Azul can’t help but expect it every time…)

He gets a few more deep breaths in, then leans back against the pillows, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. He must have dropped his cards at some point, too.

“...Sorry, Idia. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“It’s… okay? I shouldn’t have brought it up…”

“No, it’s fine.” Azul says it with determination. He’s not going to let this silly incident keep making a fool of him, not if he can help it. “I just haven’t decided what I’ll do about PE yet, that’s all. If it means my grade… then I will have to try again.”

He is not sacrificing his grade point average for something this ridiculous. That’s just the way it has to be. Even if the idea of getting back on that broom makes his hands shake-

“I think it was your turn!” says Idia quickly, and it pulls Azul back to the present. He jerks against the pillows, startled, remembering that his cards are in his lap.

Some of them are face up, which is irritating. Azul quickly gathers them.

“It’s your turn, so…” Idia gestures again at the cards, and Azul gives his head a little shake and pulls from his deck.

“Right… Hmm.”

He studies the cards in his hand, then smiles, chaining together actions to make a direct attack on Idia.

“I believe with this move… you are out.”

“What…” Idia looks over the cards, then groans, leaning back. “F in the chat. You win.”

Azul does not know what “F in the chat” means and he never cares to ask. “You’ll have to work harder than that to beat me, Idia.”

He feels better, somehow, now that he’s won. The icy feeling that had been gripping him since Idia asked if he would fly again recedes to a quiet ache, easily ignored.

Idia starts to gather up the cards, glancing at the clock as he does. “Want to play again? We still have some time.”

“Why not? If you want to lose again.”

“I still have some tricks up my sleeve,” says Idia, a sly smile he only lets out when he’s playing games sliding onto his face, and Azul can’t help but smile back. When Idia isn’t being timid, he’s honestly intriguing…

They fall into the easy rhythm of the game, Azul managing to focus. They’ve just about finished, and it’s looking like Idia might just have the upper hand on him this time, when the door to the infirmary bursts open with more force than necessary, their only warning the thump of feet before Floyd jumps and lands sprawled across Azul’s bed.

“Aaaah- Floyd!” Azul sucks in a breath, trying to pull his injured leg out from under Floyd’s body. “Do you want to break my leg again!?”

“Does it matter? You have seven more!” Floyd rolls over, grinning up at him. “What are you playing?”

“A card game, which you have utterly wrecked.” Azul sighs, adjusting his glasses. He knows Floyd did this solely to irritate him, but damn did it succeed. “Apologize to Idia!”

“Eeeeh?” Floyd looks over at Idia, who is frozen with wide eyes, arms pulled tight around himself. “Firefly squid, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Hee hee!”

“Floyd, I think you’ve frightened him.” Jade walks around the bed, carrying a tray of food meant for Azul, which he lays down on the side table. There’s no fried chicken this time, instead his normal fare of some soup and salad, and Azul feels a little disappointed, even if it’s what he generally asks for.

Ah well… If he stops eating healthy for too long, it will be hard to start again. It’s already been difficult enough with Jamil’s snacks still around.

“Sooorryyy,” sings Floyd, not sounding sorry at all. He rolls off the bed and onto his feet, reaching over and stealing some of the crackers from Azul’s plate.

Azul looks over the state of the cards, now scattered all around his bed, and sighs. “My apologies, Idia, but it looks like our game is ruined.”

“Th-that’s, uh…” Idia stands up from his chair quickly, making an aborted reach for the box. “It’s fine. We can… have a rematch? Next club meeting.”

“That sounds excellent. Here…” Azul helps him gather up the cards and put them back in their correct slots, then hands both boxes back to Idia. He slips them in his bag, taking a few steps toward the door while the twins settle down.

“Uh… Azul?”

“Hm?” Azul looks away from his food, surprised Idia hasn’t already bolted. He hesitates in the doorway, glancing at the twins in turn before looking back at Azul.

“...I think, if you want to try again… you’ll get it eventually. When you get determined about something, you don’t give up…” Idia shuffles back a bit more. “It’s kinda scary, actually.”

“...Thank you? I think.” Azul isn’t sure if that’s a compliment or not. He decides he may as well take it as one.

“Sure.” Idia looks between their faces one more time, an awkward air starting to settle back in, before finally stepping through the door. “Ok bye!”

He’s gone. Azul watches the spot where he previously was for a moment, before turning back to his meal.

“And what is it you’re so determined to do that it scares Idia?” asks Jade.

Azul spears a piece of broccoli, pushing it around to soak up what dressing he can. “Flight class.”

“Oh?” Jade sounds entirely too amused. “So you haven’t given up, then?”

“When have I ever given up on anything?”

“Heh, that’s true!” Floyd reaches over and tries to steal a carrot, and Azul stabs at his hand with his fork. (He misses. Floyd is quick.) “Hey, why don’t we put a big trampoline under you!”

“That’s not-”

“Or a large cushion,” Jade suggests.

“No-”

“Oooh, or a big pool of jello!”

“I do not think jello would be enough to break his fall.”

“What if it’s a lot of jello?”

“There is no need for any of this,” Azul snaps, cutting them off, “because I’m not going to fall again.”

The twins share a look, matching smiles spreading across their faces.

“It sounds like he means it, Floyd.”

“Then he’ll probably do it. That’s how Azul sounds when he’s about to win.”

Azul isn’t sure how much he believes that - despite his tone, he still feels his stomach drop out every time he thinks about flying again. But if he’s convinced the twins, then he’ll just have to convince himself, too. It’s the only way.

“Exactly.” He grins, spearing some of his lettuce with more force than necessary. “Next time, I won’t lose.”

In the end, Vargas doesn’t make Azul so much as touch a broom for three weeks.

He still had to run laps and do aerobics, which was less dangerous but just as exhausting, but flying stayed out of the question until Vargas felt like they would not have a “repeat of the incident.” Azul was only too happy to comply, keeping his feet firmly on solid ground.

But now, he has his broom back, holding it in his hands without actually getting on it. His classmates are already rising up in the air, leaving him behind, but he makes no move to join them.

Despite his determined words back in the infirmary, he feels his hands shake just holding the wood. The last time he gripped this handle, he’d tumbled to the ground.

He doesn’t want to do this. But he doesn’t want to be the only one who won’t do it, either.

He manages to get his legs over the broomstick just as Jamil touches down next to him.

“Vargas sent me to get you. Again.”

“Did he?”

“You don’t have to go as high as the others, but you do have to get off the ground. And you aren’t allowed to fly without a buddy anymore. So of course he picked me…”

Jamil adds the last part at a lower volume, but Azul can still hear it.

“So. What do you want?”

Jamil’s face contorts without settling on an exact expression. “Are you really starting this again?”

“It’s a simple question. No one in this school offers their services for free!”

“All I want is to not be held back in PE today.” Jamil pushes off the ground, hovering just a few feet up. “Fine. Can I get a free drink at Mostro Lounge?”

Azul considers it for a moment. “...Yes. That will do.”

“Great.” He waves his arm. “Now get up here.”

Azul lifts his feet, then immediately puts them back down. Just the momentary feeling of weightlessness was enough to make him feel queasy.

Jamil comes back down. When he speaks, his tone is even. “How about we go up six feet? You won’t break anything from that height.”

“I’m not going to fall,” Azul snaps, looking up at him sharply.

Jamil actually smirks at that, rising up again. “Then prove it, Ashengrotto.”

Azul looks back at his broom. His hands shake where they grip the wood, his stomach is tying itself in knots. The solid ground is under his feet, but his classmates are all up above him, and Azul doesn’t want to be the only one left behind. That’s more terrifying than falling.

He takes a breath.

Azul pushes off the ground, and rises.