“I’m Roy Garland,” he repeated. He tapped the chalk board and underlined his name. “Roy. Garland,” he repeated again, like he was rehearsing it.

The instructor, Roy Garland, picked up a wooden sword from a nearby rack and leaped up to the ring, a play area for swordplay. He swung his sword about, demonstrating passable skill. Hildebrand was no expert, and she never learned to wield a sword herself beyond a single, long-forgotten lesson, but she was certain she had seen better.

Roy pointed his sword at the students. “Any challengers?”

Someone asked, “Shouldn’t you teach us something first?”

“I’m gonna teach you what an ass kicking feels like,” Roy said, pointing at the student with his sword. “Get up here.”

“A what?”

“A thrashing. Now get up here,” Roy repeated.

The challenger rose out of the crowd and stood tall, stretching his back like an old man.

Hildebrand gawked.

“What’s your name?” Roy asked the challenger.

“My name is Hugo. Hugo Rosenthal,” he answered, glancing back at Hildebrand. He winked at her. He was as handsome as he was in her dream, but different.

Hildebrand stood too. “Hey!” she shouted with a pointed finger. She couldn’t control herself. She was bristling with young, emotional energy. Too much of it. Just as much as Hildebrand wanted to run to Hugo and hug him, she wanted to wring his neck. She imagined things she didn’t think she could ever imagine.

“Sit down, missy,” Roy said to Hildebrand. “One at a time.”

Hildebrand, red in the face, red like a beet, quietly sat down. She could hardly control herself, but didn’t even know what to do with all of her newfound energy. She shook her legs in frustration. The two swordsmen were simply slowly circling each other, inching around the large play area.

“I’ll give you the first move,” Roy said, waving Hugo to approach him.

“No no,” Hugo said. “I’m here to learn. Show me how it’s done.” He added, “Sir,” tauntingly.

He wasn’t quite like the Hugo Hildebrand remembered. The person she remembered did like to poke and prod, but he only openly taunted opponents when he was on edge. And he was left-hand dominant, not right-handed like the young man in the ring. The young Hugo in the ring shook his stiff left arm loose, only to fold it behind his back. Roy, on the other hand, held his sword with his left hand.

“Ok,” Roy said. “The first lesson—” Roy gripped his sword so tight Hildebrand could hear his skin tightening around the wood from a distance. “Take every advantage you can get,” he said in a cold, slithering tone, like he was about to do something wicked.

He raised his sword high, his arm coiling with strength, and all the sawdust on the floor flew up like a raging wind had blown through the gym. There were loud gasps, the loudest from Hildebrand herself.

“Hugo!” she screamed.

There was a loud crash, and when the dust cleared, Hugo was defeated. He had blocked the overhead swing correctly, or maybe he had tried to deflect it. It didn’t work. The instructor had simply overpowered Hugo, pushing his arm down until the sword tapped his head.

Roy hadn’t overpowered the guard; he hadn’t overcome the technique. He overpowered all the strength behind the technique. It was an uncommon sight in any duel, let alone one against Hugo. Perhaps a giant could overpower a knight’s guard, but not even they could overpower Hugo.

Even Hugo looked dumbfounded. His mouth was agape. His practice sword—made of tough, even mythical, Bloody Ironwood—was bent and splintering. It had just barely held on. Roy’s own bent sword rested on Hugo’s hair.

Roy pulled his sword back and then gave Hugo a good thump on the head with his fist. It made a hollow thud. “Did you learn something?” he asked, smirking. “Knucklehead?”

Hugo rubbed his head, still trying to take control of his slack jaw. “Yes,” he said. This time he added, “Sir” with quiet respect. He rotated and stretched his shoulders, wincing as he did.

“Take a seat,” Roy said, turning Hugo around and giving him a loud smack on his bum. It sent the young man almost flying off the ring. “I promised an ass-kicking,” he said. “But that’ll have to do.” He laughed, and he cackled, like a demon.

Disgusting, Hildebrand thought. Poor Hugo…

“Who’s next?” Roy asked.

Surprisingly, Erika ran up while Hugo came down. He came up to Hildebrand.

“Hugo!” Hildebrand squeaked, standing to greet him.

“Yes,” he said, rubbing his head. “I am he.” It looked like a bump was forming under his dark auburn hair. It was darker and its color duller than Hildebrand remembered. And his skin wasn’t as rough and tanned as she remembered; it was fair and well cared for. But his eyes were the same sea green as she remembered. His hair was out of his eyes for once; it was fluffy and coifed.

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Hugo blinked a few times, gathering his bearings before putting a hand to his chin in thought. Hugo gave Hildebrand a charming smile that quickly became a toothy grin. He placed his hand over his heart and bowed slightly. “May I know your name, oh beautiful one?” he asked, holding his hand out to Hildebrand.

“Huh? It’s me,” Hildebrand said with an awkward smile, failing to notice his wagging fingers beckoning her hand.

Hugo blinked a few more times, cluelessly trying to gather his thoughts. “I’m afraid we’ve never met before,” he said. “At least, not so intimately. I would never forget the name of a lovely princess, such as yourself.”

Hildebrand blushed madly. She couldn’t help herself.

“Now,” Hugo said, gingerly taking a lock of Hildebrand’s copper hair. He raised it closer to his face, letting it slip out of his hands just before it could reach his lips. “May I know your name?”

“I’m Hilde—” Hildebrand stammered.

“Hilde. That’s a lovely name,” he said. “Hilde,” he repeated. “Hilde.” He smiled sweetly. “Hilde, may I know why you were looking for me?”

“I wasn’t,” she muttered. “I wasn’t particularly looking for you…” She looked away. He wasn’t at all like she remembered. He was acting weird. It was like he didn’t remember her or even Hilde. Or was he just toying with her? Or was the boy before her not the Hugo she remembered, the one she wanted to meet? Thoughts raced through her mind. Too many to think straight. She thoughtlessly covered her blind eye, the ghoul’s eye, placing a hand over that side of her face. She wanted to hide away.

Hugo took that same hand and brushed his thumb over her fingers, hardly noting the scars that ringed the Saintess’s fingers. He didn’t notice them at all. He locked eyes with her, both eyes. “Odd,” he said. “I could have sworn you called my name earlier. You were looking for me.”

“No,” Hildebrand shyly denied. She couldn’t face him. “I was looking for a different Hugo,” she said.

“No,” he said, leaning closer. “You were looking for me,” he whispered, his lips almost touching her ear. “Here I am.”

Hildebrand shoved her hands out, pushing him back. “I told you I wasn’t,” she said. She was burning up and trying her best to lower and hide her face.

Hugo gently grasped her wrists.

“Let go. If you don’t—” Hildebrand mumbled under her breath. “I’ll hit you,” she muttered, trying to pull away from him.

“You will?” he said, stepping closer. He cornered her back against the wall. He towered over her, a full head taller. And yet this Hugo wasn’t quite as tall as her Hugo. He was younger, after all.

“I will,” she said.

“You will?”

“I will!” Hildebrand said, pulling her fist back from Hugo’s side. He quietly crumpled like a sack of potatoes folding over on itself. She didn’t even remember hitting him.

“Agh…” he moaned on the ground.

She gasped, covering her mouth with both hands in shock. “T-That’s what you get!” Hildebrand said, trying to straighten herself out. “Why would I be looking for you? Stupid! Stupid Hugo!” She crossed her arms and turned her nose up at him, trying not to look at the pitiful young man.

“Hmm,” Roy said, stepping down from the ring alongside a whining Erika, who was nursing a bump on her head. “Love troubles already, tsk tsk.”

“I think you broke my ribs,” Hugo moaned. He sounded like he was going to die.

Hildebrand freed her hands with a panicked yelp and placed them on Hugo’s back. “I’ll heal you!” she said. Nothing happened. She closed her eyes and focused. And then she squealed noisily as she tried to squeeze even the tiniest bit of divinity out. Nothing. Her powers weren’t working. It’s just stress, she told herself. From traveling through time.

“That’s enough, little miss troublemaker,” Roy said, picking Hildebrand up by the back of her collar. He set her aside. “Let an adult deal with this,” he said.

Roy immediately looked to the crowd of students. “Who wants to take this knucklehead to the infirmary?” he asked.

One young man raised his hand. “I will,” he said.

“What’s your name?” Roy asked.

“Gregorius,” said the blonde boy. He was Old Reliable, the friend Hugo could always count on, in any life. It made Hildebrand smile with relief.

“You get a gold star for the day,” Roy said.

“A gold star?” Greg blurted out. “Is that true?”

Roy chuckled, much to Greg’s confusion. Hildebrand joined Greg in being confused. She hadn’t a clue what that meant.

Someone from the crowd said, “It’s a figure of speech, probably.”

Roy hummed with displeasure. “It means you’re in my good book,” he hesitantly explained. “Now, get going.”

Greg ran over to Hugo and tried to provide a shoulder, but neither Roy nor Hugo seemed too impressed by the smaller boy’s strength, or lack thereof. He wasn’t as tall as Hugo, and he was daintier than Hugo. That was always the case, but this Greg was much too weak. The Greg Hildebrand knew could toss around boulders with vigor, but the boy before her had yet to reach that level of strength.

Roy walked up to Hugo and placed a hand on his back. “I’ll take care of this guy,” he said to the students. “Don’t cause any trouble.” He turned to Hildebrand, staring with his seemingly closed fox-eyes. He said nothing, but she could tell he meant to say, “Don’t cause any more trouble.”

“I can take him!” Hildebrand said, running up to slip under Hugo’s shoulder. It was a familiar sensation, but not quite the same.

But Hugo looked at her with frightened eyes and reeled away towards Roy. “Help me,” he groaned to Roy. “Sir.”

Although she couldn’t see even the whites of his eyes, she could tell Roy was judging her. The snake-faced man shook his head with a click of his tongue before whisking Hugo off of his feet. “Hold tight, princess!” he said. He kicked the gym doors open and ran out in a hurry, with Greg cluelessly following.

As Hugo got further and further away, Hildebrand wobbled backwards more and more, feeling weak in the knees. She hit the wall again and collapsed onto her butt. The other students steered clear of her, giving enough space for Erika to sit beside her.

Nothing had gone as she imagined when she saw Hugo again. She had imagined him smiling, beaming like the sun. She imagined him calling her name. She imagined the Hugo who was searching for Hilde, for her. She imagined holding Hugo in her hands, her Hugo. Hildebrand buried her face in her palms to stop the tears that were welling up. To prevent them from flowing.

Hildebrand fell back onto an old talent that belonged to her, assigning blame.

“Stupid Hugo,” she muttered. It was his fault she was late for class. It was his fault she embarrassed herself. It was his fault for not remembering. It was his fault for not being the same person. Everything was his fault.

A hand patted her head and then petted it.

“There, there,” Erika said.

Hildebrand thought about brushing her hand away. About saying, “Hey, I’m not a child.” But she accepted the kind gesture. It was an unexpected comfort.

She shook her head, trying to banish the thoughts. It wasn’t his fault, but it was a little his fault. He always knew how to annoy her. He could do it without doing anything at all. He didn’t even have to exist.

Hildebrand sighed. She had thought life would be a little easier, being an adult in a young body. Even if things didn’t go the way she expected, she should have been mature enough to exercise some self-control. She found it wasn’t so easy. It was hard. It was hard to be young again.