Belaphorde was at a loss. What could he possibly do to save the idiotic meth-head? He didn't want to be someone who used people and then left them in the dust. Too many had already died under Belaphorde's command. People who had trusted his Guild to make their lives better.

“Hey, kiddo. Serve me some tea and we can both study that book.”

Vigo's voice brought Bel back to reality. He had not noticed that he had been shaking. There were boxes in his mind that would all pop like a jack-in-the-box if he approached them. He sighed and slumped his shoulders.

“Perhaps you need a moment alone? You have been doing this passive guiding all through the day and night. A short break to freshen up should enhance your performance.”

“As you say, sir. We must both smell horrendous after being glued together.”

Vigo lifted his arm to sniff his armpit. “Yeap. Stinks like a pissed-down leather seat. Be so kind and send in some help for me.”

Belaphorde let out a huff of air, his version of a snicker, and finished his cup of tea despite the bitter taste.

Adults keep it together.

***

Belaphorde had never bathed in a bathtub. A bucket and cloth were what he knew, for water was a necessity. Taking too much was a sign of opulence, an option only given to those who have.

The engulfing warmth. The weight that melted into the water. It was divine.

Belaphorde cupped his hand and let the droplets fall through his fingers.

There was a whole cupboard filled with bottles and colorful knick-knacks. Belaphorde did not know what a third of it was used for. He reached for a yellow bar of soap and scrubbed himself down.

Something about the echoing bathroom reminded him of the grand churches he’d seen on postcards. He and Marianne would go every Sunday to their local chapel. It was a quaint place. You could not tell it was a church at all from the outside. They had an arrangement of second-hand benches for pews and the green carpet floor had spots and patches like a sick animal. But the place was still special. Holy.

They did have a grand altar cabinet with finely carved crosses, arches, and vibrant paint. It was the finest piece of woodwork Belaphorde had ever laid eyes upon. He could picture the eyes of the Virgin Mary looking down upon him as the priest absolved the assembly of their sins.

Belaphorde’s breath caught in his throat. The eyes burned down on him with shame. He had been acting so sinful and weak. He had a clear mission; to become a good enough Guide to save Kaigo. Then he could be in a potion to demand rights, power, and be of some good to people.

He pulled the plug on the disgusting water and put on a fluffy pink bathrobe. The fog over his mind parted at a gentle pace. He had never wanted to be a Guide but right now he would do anything he could to to become just as extraordinary as he was expected to be. Every minute he should be spending studying.

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The pain of the cold felt better than the comfort.

Wrapped in towels he opened the door and found the housekeeper sitting on a bench in the hallway with a neat stack of clothes next to him.

“Hello Belaphorde.” Balm’s face wrinkled as he smiled. “I got some clothes for you. The young master might have a smaller stature but I think these will fit you. Would you like some help with getting dressed?”

“That's alright. Thank you, uncle.”

Balm handed over the stack. His eagerness to serve was off-putting.

“It's been a difficult couple of days for everyone. I worry for the young master. He has the most noble spirit. He fights like no other.” Balm turned to the window with a wistful look.

“Kaigo must be an important person to you.”

“I'm so grateful to him and his family. I come from far away and they offered me this job. They have given me so much. I'm sure you feel a similar way. I've heard you come from the dreadful Outskirts.”

Belaphorde rubbed the fabric on the beige sweatshirt on top of the stack. On the inside of the neck, there was a pair of black embroidered wings.

“I'm very grateful for this opportunity. I will do all in my power to help Kaigo, so while I stay here please continue to look after me, uncle.” Belaphorde stated with a customer service smile to match Balm.

***

Five days passed.

Tobi was not happy when Belaphorde called. All the Guide could do was advise Tobi to hide or find some other alternative until Bel got money. Tobi used everything he had to guilt trip Belaphorde but he remained stoic. There was nothing he could do for him but listen when Tobi called to plead again and again. Reality doesn't change with complaints.

Belaphorde devoured any study materials provided. Vigo had to tell him to back off when his limit for how long he could be touching another person was met. The elderly man was recovering at a steady pace. He no longer looked like a Halloween mummy. His arms were still weak but he could hold a bowl of soup by himself. The nurses that came by always said he was doing great, just needed the right amount of exercise and rest. Vigo would always flirt or brag about his son when he got the chance. It was a bit creepy but Belaphorde was happy to see him recover.

Sleeping was difficult. He was too busy to rest and he only had nightmares. At night it was quiet enough that he could hear noises from upstairs. Thud. Crack. Crash.

The beast was on an unknown time limit. Bel had to hurry up.

The Gates were more intuitive than Belaphorde had first thought. Tina had explained the basics were like that of the science of hugs. Hugs were known to cause the body to produce positive hormones. However, if one or both participants were uncomfortable with the hug the effect was negligible or even stressful. Participants who were close and had a positive attitude toward physical contact had a much greater effect.

Gates described different relationships between the Guide, and Esper, and their interpersonal attitudes. A Gate was reached when a mindset had gone far enough that there was an observable effect that cannot be explained with either capacity or technique.

“So you want me to psycho-analyze all my mental blocks away and fall in love with Esper Kaigo?” Belaphorde asked in a sarcastic tone after revving the materials.

“Preferably, yes.” was Tina’s nonchalant answer.

Belaphorde had needed a moment to quench his anger after that.

Breathe. Focus.

He still could only hope he was doing alright with the Passive Guiding since Tina reminded him after every daily check-up with breathing and blood tests that his body was still too burned out to handle ichor. Until he was strong enough he could only study the theoretical material. Even his legs had stagnated into a state where he could walk but the feeling of glass shards forced him to use the wheelchair.

Vigo watched Bel pray by the window at night. Belaphorde didn't know why this sudden urge had come over him. During those moments it felt like he had something no one could ask to take away from him. Perhaps he was just sentimental for his mother.

On Tina’s directive, Belaphorde had to meet with a therapist. Sitting by the kitchen table he had been handed a form to fill in.

“How often have you been bothered by feeling nervous, anxious, or worried over the last two weeks?” “Do you have trouble sleeping?” “Rate your mood from 1 to 5.” It felt ridiculous. Belaphorde nearly snapped when the therapist asked if he had any history of self-harm. He faced the session with aggressive politeness. He promptly informed Professor Tina that he did not wish to see any therapists after that.

***

On the fight night, Belaphorde lay awake and listened for the noises. Nothing. Hours passed. This was not normal. The anxiety grew. He had been staying at this house for a while but he still had not seen the third floor. Kaigo’s state was a complete mystery. All the thoughts that had gone through his mind the previous nights came rushing. He could just run away if he needed to.

He decided to get up and ride the elevator to the third floor.