"Things aren't good out here." Roman reported over a secure connection. The signal wasn't perfect, but that was expected when calling from Mt. Glenn. "Most of these idiots couldn't fight if their lives depended on it. Ever since Neo got caught, more Grimm are getting through. She thinned out most of the ones that came close, but now it's pretty much up to me and a couple others."

There was more than a hint of irritation in his voice. He'd had a more emotional outburst when he'd first learned his partner had been caught, requiring Cinder to put him in his place. He was still bitter, but there would be plenty of opportunity for him to collect his partner when her plans for Mt. Glenn came to fruition. That fact played a significant role in his compliance.

"Are you certain you can't handle it yourselves?" she asked. He and the White Fang were underground, few Grimm should be getting through.

"We could try, but then we probably won't be on schedule."

Cinder clenched her fist. No, the train needed to be ready when most of Vale's huntsmen were out supervising students on missions. Roman and the White Fang's incompetence was no excuse.

"I understand, I'll have more White Fang sent over."

"Oh goodie, more cannon fodder." His sarcasm was evident.

"Yes, but they should live just long enough to be useful," reasoned Cinder. "Do try to at least keep some of them alive."

"Yeah yeah, anything else?"

"No, just keep me aware of any further developments."

"Got it."

Cinder ended the call. Truly, Roman had been unruly ever since Neo had been captured. That had irked Cinder as well, since she'd lost her chance to learn about Clark Kent. The enigmatic young huntsman that Ozpin had in his employ. She'd considered sending White Fang in to fight him, but concluded that it would be pointless. Even if she decided to record the attack, if Neo had been captured, so would they, and any huntsman would be able to defeat those peons without a Semblance.

No matter, soon the train at Mt. Glenn would be ready.

\\\\\

An office building in downtown Vale, this was the location that General Ironwood's technicians had tracked down as the source of the scroll number. The general had been short and to the point when mentioning it to Clark. It hadn't been easy to trace, apparently the signal had been rerouted to the CCT, the building Vale relied on for communication, and various client servers from other Kingdoms to hide the trail.

At first glance, this place made it seem like those Atlesian technicians had gotten it wrong. It was a totally ordinary, gray building made of steel and concrete. A company logo shown at the front.

But X-ray vision showed that they were holding some powerful computers in the basement. A basement with a hidden entrance and a serious security system.

Most of the employees probably didn't have a clue that it existed, but Clark waited and watched from the top of a nearby building. Eventually, someone went inside and used the computers. Clark took a few peeks, but the man didn't do anything obviously illegal. Just typing away at the screens and taking a few scroll calls.

The room was also soundproof, but that only meant Clark had to focus a bit harder to listen in.

"There's a new assignment. Payment is in the range of forty-thousand lien, details will be sent over."

"Understood."

"What is the status of the high priority C-2 assignment? The client is willing to increase payment for completion."

"No update on its progress from before."

Again, it wasn't anything that would hold up in a court. They never spoke about what the jobs were, just payment and a few other specifics that could have applied to pretty much any business transaction. The fact that they were being so vague showed how careful they were, and that there was more going on than met the eye.

Later, the man stopped typing and made a call to his wife that he'd be home soon. Clark had perked up at that. He'd been waiting for hours, leaving only once in a while to stop any trouble he heard in the city.

The man stood from his seat, turned off some computers but left others on, and grabbed his briefcase before leaving. The stairs led up to a door, hidden in a storage closet, and locked by a keypad. A portion of the wall extended to cover both the door and the keypad after the man input a code. 4827, Clark remembered it just in case it would be useful again.

When the man stepped out of the building, Clark made his move. Carrying the man off at super-speed into a dark alley.

When Clark stopped and placed the man on his feet, the man looked around in confusion. "Wh-what the-

"Hi there." Clark began, the man wouldn't be able to see his face without any light, but Clark could see his clearly. Neat brown hair, glasses, and a thin mustache. He looked like he was in his early forties. A quick X-ray peek at the ID in his wallet revealed his name.

The man stared back at him. "W-who are you? Where am I?"

"I'm sure you can guess who I am."

A moment passed before the man answered. "The Dart."

Clark nodded. "That's right Mr. Marrwell." The man froze at the mention of his last name. "And as for where you are, you're only a few blocks from where you work."

"What do you want from me?" asked Vincent Marrwell. His voice and heartbeat were calm and steady.

That was impressive, most people would have been a lot more rattled in this scenario. Then again, Clark had already seen that this man wasn't 'most people'. "I just have a few questions about what you were doing back in your firm's basement."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please, there's no point hiding it."

"Hiding what?" The man asked, he wasn't a bad actor. He almost sounded genuinely confused. "This basement you're talking about, do you have any evidence?"

Clark bit his lip, and shoved his fist into the brick wall. It crumbled under the force. He didn't want to threaten Marrwell, but he would if he needed to. "That doesn't matter, you're going to tell me what I want to know."

The man's pulse had jumped at the sound, but he demonstrated remarkable self-control. It was already beginning to steady. "Fine, what would that be?"

"First, what were you doing in that basement? What kind of business are you running?"

"Again, I don't know what basement you're talking about. I work at an advertising agency, and I was just taking care of some things before leaving."

"Stop lying to me." The young man shook his head. "Don't you get it? I'll hurt you if you don't tell me what I want."

A few seconds passed, and the man tilted his head. "No, you won't."

Clark shoved his hand into the wall again, this time next to the man's head. Then grabbed him by his collar. "You think I can't?"

"I see that you can, but you won't. If you wanted to hurt me, you would have done so already. If you were an amateur who wanted to hurt me, you would have gotten angry and done it already, and if you had any experience, you wouldn't have wasted any time."

Clark's eyes widened. Was this man serious? He was right. Clark wasn't going to beat this man for information, the threats alone left a bad taste in his mouth. Even if they were proving useless against Marrwell.

"You seem to know quite a bit about hurting people for information." Clark said after he let go.

Marwell smoothed out his shirt. "That won't mean anything if you're thinking of handing me over to the police. I have rights, or are you going to knock me out instead and hand me over to them?"

"I won't." Clark answered, and pointed back at the office building Marwell worked at. "But what I will do is tell them what's under that building."

"I highly doubt that the police are going to waste their time obtaining a warrant for some imaginary basement from an anonymous, possibly prank, caller." The man replied.

"Maybe, but what they will investigate is someone breaking into that building. I could get go in there and tear that wall apart, I wonder what the police will think when they find what's down there?"

The man scowled, and Clark smiled. He had him beat.

Marwell lowered his head. "Fine, there's a basement."

"What is it for?"

"I accept clients with certain jobs that they need done."

"I need more than that." Clark said impatiently. Getting this man to talk was like pulling teeth. "What kind of jobs? What are those computers for? Who are you working with?"

"I . . . I can't tell you."

Clark grit his teeth. "Why? Would you rather have the police find out?"

"Yes." The man answered, to Clark's surprise. Was he bluffing? Normally Clark could tell, but this man was just too damn calm.

"You're that loyal to whatever organization you're part of? That doesn't make sense, the police will find out everything anyway. Just tell me." There was no time for this, Clark had to know who set a bounty on him. Who was ultimately responsible for hurting an innocent woman.

The man snorted. "So impatient. Go ahead, tear the place apart and have the police run through it." Marwell's hand drifted over to his pocket.

That was where his wallet was. Clark had already checked for any concealed weapons, was there something else important? No, just his wallet. There was some lien, credit cards, ID, and a photo. A photo of him embracing a blond woman and a little girl with brown hair.

Clark took a guess. "Would your family appreciate having you in prison?"

A sharp intake of breath, a chink in this man's composure. "You've been watching me for some time." He guessed incorrectly. His voice was even, but there was an undercurrent genuine fear there.

Clark neither confirmed nor denied it.

"My family's none of your business. Just get this over with and follow through on your threat."

The young man narrowed his eyes. What was with the complete one-eighty? Earlier, he'd been adamant in denying everything. "Not yet, I want to hear an explanation. I don't know all the details of what you've been doing in there, but you clearly care for your family. Are you going to abandon them?"

"I don't seem to have much of a choice, do I?" The man answered wryly. "You've caught me."

Clark didn't understand. The love in Marrwell's voice when he'd called his wife hadn't been an act, not to mention holding his hand over the picture of his family. He was desperate now, more emotional.

The realization hit him, Marrwell was trying to minimize the damage. He was trying to protect his family, and thought that this was the best way.

"They'll be in danger if your boss thinks you made a mistake or confessed to the police." Clark realized.

Marwell's hand clenched.

Clark continued. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"So what if you are? Will that change anything? Will that make you leave me alone and never mention what you saw?"

It wouldn't, and somehow, Marwell seemed to sense that.

"Then let's make a deal." Clark offered. "I want to know who spent money to have me killed, and why. I'll reveal the basement to the police, but I'll do it tomorrow, when no one will think that you're responsible for me finding out." Clark took a step forward, his height allowed him to cut an overbearing figure in the dark. "Otherwise, I take you back there right now, and we wait for the police."

Marrwell scowled, and he waited, likely weighing the options in his mind. "Fine, I'll take your deal."

"Good." Clark moved back. "Now start talking. Don't hide anything, and I'll also be able to tell if you're lying."

"Okay." He sighed. "I'm part of an organization which handles . . . discreet jobs in return for payment. We can have people watched, acquire any information, do almost anything as long as our clients can pay. Including offering underground bounties."

"Who are you people? What's your role in all this?"

"We don't have a name, and I was just recruited one day for my talent with computers. Even now I hardly know anything. Just that if someone rich and powerful enough wants something done, we do it for them."

Someone rich and powerful, Clark had already guessed that with the money offered and the effort involved. Now he had confirmation. "Then who wanted me dead?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I doubt anyone in our organization would even know. Our clients are rather high profile, they're at an enormous risk when requesting our services. They keep themselves anonymous."

Stolen story; please report.

"Then how do I track them down? You must have something. How are you people contacted? How do you get paid?"

"Sometimes it's unmarked bills, for larger sums we usually get electronic transfers from proxy accounts from a bank in another Kingdom. I don't know how we're contacted, I'm just told what to do."

This was ridiculous, how deep was Clark going to have to dig to figure this out? "Then give me all the information you have for who hired you. You guys were paid somehow, was this one in bills or electronic?"

"Electronic. But all the information's back down there, I can't give it to you now."

"You can," replied Clark.

With a rush of speed, Clark brouth Vincent Marwell back to the office building.

"Wh-" Marwell's head turned as he looked around, while Clark stayed out of his field of vision. "Fine."

"We're going to keep the lights off," Clark added. "And don't try to turn around or do anything, you know how fast I am."

Marwell nodded in response, and unlocked the door with a key. He fumbled a bit without any light, but Clark directed him to the closet. The man tried to hide the code as he keyed in, even though Clark had already seen it earlier.

They descended into the basement. The place was well-swept, and mostly empty besides the desk with several large monitors and computers. It was strange how normal it looked, nothing was the least bit suspicious.

"Eyes forward." Clark reminded the man.

Marwell silently booted up the computers. A few minutes later, he was able to log in and took out a flash drive from his briefcase. Clark watched over the process of copying over the data, a few folders of it. Then, without turning around, Marwell handed over the flash drive to Clark.

"If there's a virus on this, or if I think something's missing, I'll be back," warned Clark, waiting a few moments to see if Marwell's heart rate increased or showed some other sign of nervousness. He didn't.

Clark left, with only a slight breeze informing Marwell of his departure.

\\\\\

"You do realize what it looks like when you take missiles out into the Emerald Forest and fire them." Ozpin raised an eyebrow at the screen.

James Ironwood answered. "Of course I do, but I'm not doing it to test weapons. It's to make sure we have a reliable defense against the alien."

"I understand, even if I disagree with your methods. However, the public doesn't understand, and those in Vale's council are growing nervous."

James' nostrils flared. "I know, but it's worth the risk. He's ridiculously strong, fast, and invulnerable. He didn't give us the opportunity to test that last one extensively, but it's still dangerous to have him running around."

"Perhaps." Ozpin replied. Clark had shown himself to be a considerate and dedicated individual, using his powers to help rather than for his own gain. "I think you're overestimating the danger he poses. He did mention a vulnerability to magic, we are not totally without defense."

"Yes, he said he's vulnerable to magic, but do we know that?" argued James. "Even if he actually is, we have no idea to what extent. You told me you used up your remaining power for the Branwen. At the moment, we can't depend on the Fall and Spring maidens, and bringing the other two in case he turns on us is impractical."

"Hopefully, it won't have to come to that. He is trying to return to his home after all. Until then, I still have a few other countermeasures of my own prepared."

"And they are?"

"I'll inform you later," replied Ozpin. It didn't go unnoticed how his old friend's expression darkened. There was a reason for the discretion. Only a suspicion at the moment, but it couldn't hurt to be safe. James had done little to hide his methods for handling Clark, but Ozpin would do otherwise. "For the moment, I have another matter to discuss with you, it concerns this." Ozpin held up the flash drive he'd received.

"A data drive? What's on it?"

"Clark has proven rather helpful." Ozpin answered. "He acquired it last night and gave it to me earlier today. Apparently, he found a rather interesting group." The headmaster recounted what the young man had told him. Tracing the scroll number to an underground group that took large amounts money for their illegal services. Clark had led the police to them.

"I'll be doing what I can with this data, but you have resources better suited to the task. You will help of course?" asked Ozpin.

James nodded. "I'll have my people on it immediately."

"Good, I'll send its contents to you. Along with some plans I have in mind for incapacitating Clark." Ozpin added. "Although I will remind you that he has proven tremendously helpful by finding this organization."

James snorted. "You're hardly being subtle Ozpin, I won't use my plans unless I have to. I'll admit he's doing some good by playing hero in Vale's streets, but he could be doing much more in other ways. Do I have to remind you that he refuses to kill Grimm?"

"No, you don't." It was truly a shame, Qrow had remarked how effective Clark had been on their mission together. And the whole time he'd only killed a single Grimm, that one by accident. James had his suspicions for Clark's motives, but Ozpin had become a rather good judge of character over the centuries. Clark's compassion was genuine, it was just misplaced in this case.

\\\\\

Coco groaned as she collapsed back onto her bed. "Clark, you have no idea how lucky you are that you're not a student. Classes, tests, homework, all just fancy words for torture."

"Are they really that bad?" asked Clark. Team CFVY had finished their classes not long ago, and they'd called him over to their room to hang out.

"Sometimes." Fox answered.

"They're exaggerating." Yatsuhashi said. "True, classes may be less exciting now, but they're important."

"That doesn't make them any less boring." Coco called out.

"So your classes used to be more fun?" Clark said.

"Just a few of them," answered Coco. "History, Grimm theory, and all that sucks just as much as it did when we were freshmen. But now we get more boring classes, law courses so we remember everything we can and can't do, and ethics. Combat classes take a backseat when they used to be great. And it doesn't really get that much better for the next couple years."

"Yeah, I really enjoyed them." Velvet added. "But we do get more practical experience with missions."

"True." Coco said, and she turned over on her bed so she laid on her stomach, facing Clark. "And you got to skip the whole process. Kinda makes me jealous." She said with a smirk.

Clark shrugged. "I don't really deserve to. It's more because of my circumstances. If I wanted to become an actual huntsman, I'd need the classes you guys are taking."

"Ooh, implying that you don't need any more practical combat experience?" Coco teased.

"Of course I do." Technically, he needed it in the sense that he'd have to fool people into believing he fought at their level.

"Yeah, you say that, but I don't really think you believe it." Coco turned her eyes to her teammates. "What do you guys think?"

Yatsuhashi smiled. "You're not a very good liar Clark. You're not that much older than us, but you have a huntsman license for a reason, I'm very curious to see you fight."

"Same here." Fox said. Velvet nodded in agreement.

And now all eyes were on Clark. Sometimes it seemed like the only secret he could keep was him being an alien.

"Maybe some other time." He said as an excuse.

"I'll hold you to that." Coco said. "Anyway, who wants to play video games?"

They chose a multiplayer fighting game, with their scrolls as controllers. Although to Clark, the touch screen didn't feel as natural as a joystick and buttons. Still, he put up a good showing, he actually won a couple rounds. Although there were a couple times he 'cheated' and quickly thought of the best way to counter a sudden combo.

Coco and Yatsuhashi showed the most skill, they were usually the only ones left when they didn't play with handicaps. At those times, Clark openly rooted for the big guy. Although the team considered it a foregone conclusion that Coco would win, Yatsuhashi did manage to pull out a few victories against her.

After an hour or so, the five of them went down to the cafeteria for dinner. It was pretty packed, but they were able to find a table where they could sit all together.

"Is that all you're getting?" asked Velvet, eyeing Clark's tray.

He'd only taken a bowl of chicken soup and some fruit. "I'm not that hungry." He explained as he sat down and raised an eyebrow at their food. "Not like you guys must be." Their portions were pretty generous, trays heaving with cuts of pork and beef, sides of salad, baked potato, and pasta.

"We need the calories." Fox said. "Seriously though Clark, are you sure that's going to be enough?"

"Sure, I ate earlier," replied Clark. He'd had a sandwich about six or so hours ago. Honestly, he didn't want to put in the effort to stuff himself if that was what he needed to do to seem like a normal huntsman. These guys probably ate like professional athletes.

Eventually, conversation split between the group. Clark and Yatsuhashi on one side of the table with the other three to the side. That was because Clark had a few questions to ask the big guy.

"So how old were you when you killed your first Grimm?" The dark-haired young man asked.

"Thirteen," answered Yatsuhashi.

Clark blinked a couple times, taken aback. Making the big guy let out a hearty laugh.

"You're surprised." Yatsuhashi noted. "But there are many students here who got their first kills when they were even younger."

"Really?" Clark asked. That was so young, and it would mean that team CFVY had been fighting Grimm for about a third of their lives. "What was it like?"

"Frightening." Yatsuhashi answered. "I was supervised to make sure that I wouldn't get hurt too badly, but it was the first time I applied what I had learned so far. I was using a different sword, since at that point I wasn't strong or skilled enough to use the one I have today. It must have been quite the sight, since I was tall even then at six feet, but jumped at the slightest sound. After some time, we found a lone Grimm. A Beowolf out in the forest. To tell the truth, it was over rather quickly. It charged at me, and I'd been more used to sparring with intelligent opponents. It was big and fast for its size, but I managed to dodge it and cut it down."

"And you didn't feel any . . . regret?"

Yatushashi shook his head. "Not at all. It was an evil creature, and I understood that it was necessary to kill it in order to protect my home."

"But it wasn't attacking your home, you went out of your way to find and kill it." Clark pointed out.

"True, but I must ask you something. I find it hard to believe, but did you truly live in a region without any Grimm?"

Clark hesitated. "I did." He finally answered.

"How?"

"We had barriers." The best one of all, living in another dimension entirely.

Yatsuhashi wasn't satisfied with the answer. "What kind? Rivers, mountains, walls? Those wouldn't stop flying Grimm, and even if you lived underground, there are a few that should still prove troublesome. Where did you live?"

"I'm not really comfortable answering that." Clark cringed inwardly at how suspicious that sounded, but he didn't want to lie to him more than he had to. They'd become good friends in his time here.

Yatsuhashi narrowed his eyes, and sighed. "Very well, that's not relevant to the point I was about to make anyway. Which is that you're treating Grimm like normal animals, but they're not. They've been terrorizing people since the beginning of history, and that's all they do. I understand how sacred you consider life, and I believe much the same. If we want to preserve as much life as possible, don't you consider it a moral obligation to kill Grimm?"

"After I read the books you recommended, I do in most cases." Clark admitted. "But what if someone didn't have to kill Grimm to save people?"

"And how would they do that?"

That was where Clark was at a loss for words. Even with his abilities, nothing he could think of would be better than temporary solutions. Grimm couldn't be scared off, the mindless ones couldn't be convinced to stop, and keeping them away would only let them grow stronger. He couldn't even send them to the phantom zone, and even if he could, they'd probably terrorize the alien prisoners there.

"I don't know." Clark relented. "But does that mean we shouldn't try?"

"Not at all, but most people aren't going to try to find ways to incapacitate creatures that hunt them down relentlessly. Clark, is the act of killing anything anathema to you?"

"No." He answered. That kind of belief couldn't last long in a farming community, but that was different. Grimm could become intelligent over time, and they might be reasoned with at that point.

"Then I don't understand your hesitation."

"It's . . . it's the way I was raised. I believe that that no single person should have the right to kill, that it changes them."

Yatsuhashi reached for his chin. His expression one of deep thought. "If you're talking about killing people, then I agree. Although there are cases such as self-defense where I'd say otherwise. But applying that to Grimm? Considering how long you've been here, you know what Grimm are capable of. If you're in a position to stop one permanently, but decide not to, can you accept the fact that it will almost definitely hurt people later on? I'm not saying you should dedicate your entire life to the cause, even if that would be the logical conclusion of that line of thinking. However, I do think you should reexamine your beliefs, because to me it seems like you still haven't adjusted to leaving your home. A place where Grimm are no threat."

Adjusted? Yatsuhashi was right, Clark was still nowhere near comfortable in this world. Where monsters attacked people, weird crystals gave energy, and people had soul powers. Morality wasn't simple, and he especially couldn't treat it that way in a place like this.

Clark nodded. "I'll take your advice. Thanks."

"You're welcome. You've given me a lot to think about as well, considering Grimm aren't the only enemies we fight." Yatushashi sighed. "They're not very common, but dangerous criminals with aura and Semblances do exist. We're pretty much the only ones equipped to detain them, and I feel that there are more than a few of us who wouldn't hesitate to kill them and claim that it was in self-defense."

Clark narrowed his eyes. "Really? How many?" These people had powers of their own, it would be disastrous if they killed nonchalantly.

"Only a minority." Yatsuhashi said in a calm voice. "Really, it's not that big of a problem. I'm exaggerating somewhat. I just think that many of us would do well if we had a bit of the same regard for our enemies as you do."

"Oh, okay." Clark relaxed, but couldn't help glancing at some of the students and wondering.

Clark was the first to finish his food, and he stayed for a while to continue talking with the team. They polished off their plates quickly, but they couldn't stick around for long since they had homework to do.

"See ya later Clark," Coco waved. "The three of us are going back to our room, since Velvet here has something to ask you."

Velvet's easy smile disappeared at her leader's words. Still, she nodded and nervously cleared her throat. "Yeah, I do. Could you come with me Clark?"

"Sure." He gave her a questioning look, but followed as she led the way.

\\\\\

Velvet gulped as she walked towards the doors, hearing Clark only a few steps behind her. Things had gotten easier between the two of them over the last month, but there were still moments of awkwardness.

At least she wasn't reduced to a bumbling mess around him anymore, Clark was a friend. More familiar now. He was nice, humble, smart, a bit of an astronomy nerd, a dog person, and he'd grown up on a farm. Which was a bit funny when Velvet thought about Coco's comments about his fashion choices.

The faunus led him outside, and into the courtyard. There was a crescent moon, and the little moonlets surrounding it were almost like little fingernails. It didn't provide much light, but that didn't really hinder her the slightest.

"Okay, by this point I think I should ask where you're taking me." He said.

"Just someplace I feel more comfortable in. Sorry." God, this was stupid. Why couldn't she just ask him like a normal person? Instead, she had to go here to muster up the courage.

'Here' being the side of one of the pillars farthest from the main building. Not really a long walk, but Clark probably thought she was a total weirdo for taking him here.

She stopped and turned back to him. "So . . . this is it."

"Okay, why are we here?"

"W-well, it's a place I feel safe in. This is actually where I met Coco for the first time." Velvet looked around fondly. "I was here, a freshman and a faunus, in a totally new place. Even then I could handle Grimm easily, but other people . . . that was basically impossible for me."

In some ways, it still was. That was how Clark had seen her when they'd first met after all. "Anyway, there were some guys who were making fun of me, and Coco wouldn't have it. She just came in, and sent them packing. Then, she started to yell at me."

"What?"

Velvet giggled at Clark's confused expression. "Yeah, she scared me out of my mind, and told me that I should stand up for myself. I'm . . . still working on it, but she's been helping me. She's a great friend, like everyone else on my team."

"Yeah, I haven't known you guys for long, but you're all really nice." Clark said with a smile. No way his pearly white teeth could be real, they were too perfect.

"Thanks." Velvet said. She took a deep breath, she was ready. It was going to be easy, but she'd practiced plenty of times with Coco. "Anyway, there's this dance coming up in a couple weeks and . . ."

His troubled expression made her hesitate. God, she'd made things awkward. She should have just blurted it out quickly. Who couldn't have seen it coming from a million miles away with a setup like that?

"A-and I was wondering whether you'd like to go hang out with the team during it." She said weakly.

"Okay, sure. When is it?"

Velvet bit her lip. No, she was going to say it. She fought Grimm on a regular basis, but couldn't do this? Hell no. "Actually, I wouldn't mind if we went together. As a . . . a date."

"Well, I'm flattered, but I don't think it would be a good idea."

"Oh." That was all she said as her eyes fell, and even then she could see her ears drooping into the corner of her vision. She couldn't even get mad at how they revealed her feelings so easily. Of course, what had she expected? That he'd magically change his mind after a few weeks?

"Is it something wrong with me?" She asked.

"No, not at all!" Of course he'd say that, he was too nice to say otherwise. "Hey, come on, chin up."

She couldn't. If she met his eyes, he'd see how humiliated she felt.

"Really, it's not you." He said in a reassuring voice. "I . . . I already told you about my old girlfriend and that things didn't end well between us. But it's been long enough that I've moved on. There's another reason why I don't think we should date. It's because I don't plan to stay here for long."

"You don't?" Velvet looked up. Had he mentioned that before?

"I don't know how long exactly, but I have to get back home. I have family and friends waiting for me."

"Right, I remember now. Coco told me. Do you have an idea for how long you have left?"

He sighed. "Not exactly, it's looking like it could be another month or two. Maybe longer if I'm unlucky."

Unlucky? "Do you not like it here?" she asked.

"That's not what I meant. It's not bad here, just . . . different."

"Yeah, it must be." She'd heard a little bit of the conversation between him and Yatsu. "Thanks for telling me, it makes me feel a lot better. I . . . have another question though, if you could stay, would you have said yes?"

"To a dance? Yes. You're a great girl Velvet, and I would have at least tried to see if things could work between us. But I don't think I should pursue something that would only be short-term."

Velvet nodded. She could understand Clark's reasoning, she wasn't sure she'd want something like that either.

"Anyway, I'll still have plenty of fun with you guys there. Bye."

"Bye." Velvet waved as he left. Wait! It was dark out, even if his eyes had adjusted, Clark probably needed her to guide him back. They were pretty far out from the main building's lights.

Or not, as he just walked back, even moving out of the way of some uneven stones in his way. How? Was she overestimating how dark it was?

She walked forward and took a picture with her scroll, setting it not to flash. The camera didn't have her night vision, it would give her a better idea of how dark it was. She took the picture of what she easily saw as a gray path, but the screen showed almost complete darkness.