Voltaire presses a caressing hand to his jaw as he lays in bed one night. The soreness is all but gone, but the wound to his pride will take much longer to heal. How in the hell did Niel beat him that badly? Voltaire can—and has—made grown men cry with his electric shocks, yet he can't even make Niel flinch? Their fight in the alley, their fight in the woods, when Niel choked him... He saw a light and what looked like his veins darkening, but that's probably just because he was losing consciousness. There hasn't been any kind of material, element, or breeze moving when Niel pushes him or something else around. He also didn't feel anything out of the ordinary during both attempts to shock Niel. Out of everyone, his is the only Mute that doesn't get talked about. What are they hiding from him? And why?

Just across the hall, Niel is also deep in thought. He'll never regret protecting Mabel from Voltaire, but with enough time having passed, he is mournful of how he escalated things. Every time something happens, it seems like he's always responding with violence. Voltaire, protecting Callum and saving Alanna from Invictus, even when he crossed Reed and Lydia in the woods. Minus that last one, he isn't quite regretful of his actions—like himself, bad people deserve their comeuppance—but a part of him still is. It's something along the lines of: he doesn't regret the outcome, only how he got to it. Maybe the simplest explanation is that he doesn't want to become that violent monster again, that he's afraid to fall back on old habits.

His phone buzzes; it's Lydia. They've all been texting a lot more since Voltaire arrived, and she's been serving as his confidant tonight. He's relayed most of his current thoughts to her, and he forgot how much she can relate to him. After all, how did their first meeting go? Lydia to Niel, Niel to Voltaire—violence begat violence.

>>>>>>

"And they've been fighting ever since?" Mavrick questions. He and Reed are sitting on a short stone wall outside during their school's lunch hour.

"Yeah," Reed responds as he unwraps a granola bar. "They fight more often than me and Lydia do, except they get physical. Voltaire isn't afraid to throw punches, and Niel isn't afraid to throw Voltaire."

Mavrick suppresses a morbid chuckle from that last line. "Sounds like Voltaire's got a lot of pent-up aggression."

"Tell me about it."

As they sit and listen to the outside-school environment, an idea forms in Mavrick's mind. "Do you guys have anything in place to help Voltaire vent his anger?"

"Not that I know of."

He brings up a website on his phone and shows it to Reed: Tri-Peaks Martial Arts. "This gym has three different classes you can sign up for: boxing, Muay Thai, and judo. If Voltaire tires himself out here, he might be calmer at home."

"Plus, it might teach him some discipline."

"Exactly."

Reed likes this idea. So much so, in fact, that when he gets home, he brings it up with his guardians.

"It's not a bad idea..." Mabel contemplates. Gabriel checks the price for each class on his phone.

"Not bad, if not a little pricey..." Gabriel observes.

"The first class for each is free. If something happens or Voltaire doesn't want to go back, then we don't lose anything," Reed says.

"If Voltaire goes in the first place."

"Then..."

After hearing Voltaire's name from across the house, Niel clues into the conversation and approaches. "What's going on?"

"We're thinking if Voltaire joining a sports club will help him get his energy out."

"What kind of sport?"

Gabriel and Reed run Niel through the gym's website, and the latter is surprised to see nothing but combat sports. Is it okay to let someone combative like Voltaire participate in a sport that involves fighting? Then again, this could be just what he needs, if someone is there to make sure he doesn't go too far.

"You want him to go?" Niel asks.

"It would be nice," Reed responds.

"Give me a moment," Niel says as he leaves and travels upstairs. They wonder what he's doing at first, but the stomping and Voltaire's raised voice give away his actions. More stomping and shouting nearly sends Gabriel after Niel, but two pairs of footsteps hold his own as the two boys reach the first floor.

"What is it?" Voltaire grumbles, annoyed by Niel's pestering. Gabriel gives him his phone to look at the website.

"Would you want to go to one of these classes?" Gabriel asks as the Electric Mute Thief scans through each sport contemplatively.

"You said you want to make your own choices? Here you go," Niel says sternly to Voltaire.

"And if I say no?" Voltaire says with a scowl.

"Then you won't, and nothing will happen. You get to choose which one you want to go to, or none if you don't."

"You get to punch and/or throw people. Or none," Reed adds.

"That's a bit over-simplistic," Mabel says. "There won't always be sparring. It'll mostly be exercises and the like."

The thought of being allowed to punch people and not get in trouble for it does sound tempting. Judo also sounds interesting with its mix of strikes and takedowns, though he doesn't like how structured it is. Above both of them, Muay Thai and its teachings of using multiple parts of the body to hit people sounds like just the edge he'd need in a fight, plus it would compliment his Mute very well. Though, if he's going to any one of these, he'll do it on one condition alone.

"I choose Muay Thai," Voltaire confirms, "but only if Niel comes with me."

"But—"

"Deal," Niel says with minimal hesitation, cutting Mabel off. "You got to make your own choice. Now, behave yourself when we go."

"I'll do what I want," Voltaire growls, instigating another fight.

"Don't push your luck."

With another feud between them heating up, Reed invites Niel to his room to break them up. Now with nothing left for him downstairs, Voltaire returns to his room, sure to hide this newfound enthusiasm behind the other emotional scars on his face.

In the space between now and their first class this coming Monday, Niel researches what Muay Thai classes are like. The first thing he finds from other people's testimonies is that workouts are very energy intensive and will leave you exhausted and sore, especially for beginners and those with little to no cardio or stamina. Second is that he should expect to be bad at it when starting out. Stances and techniques will feel awkward at first and will only improve with time and experience. Third is that he should simply try to have fun. While Muay Thai can be a competitive sport, many people simply use it as a means for exercise or to learn methods of self-defence.

Something else he does is drag Voltaire outside to get a head start on cardio. Voltaire's not very enthusiastic about being roped along, but he does give up and join Niel for runs to the glade and back. It's pretty clear that they are both out of shape, Niel surprisingly more so. Illia even tries joining them once, but she tires even faster than the boys do and nearly gets left behind. She'll stick to walks from now on.

It's finally time for their first class. Due to school the mixed-ability morning classes are unavailable to them, and the advanced classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays are obviously off-limits for them, but they can still catch the evening regular classes each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 7:15 to 8:45. They arrive 15 minutes early to learn the gym layout and to meet their instructors. Dwayne, who had driven the boys here (and who did further research into the gym to see if it was a good fit) leaves them only when he feels they'll be okay without him. After getting changed into workout clothes, they step out to the mat and find a relatively small group of people roughly their age or older mingling and stretching before the lesson begins.

"Hello! Are you two new?" an adult asks upon seeing them walk over. He's a shorter man—being not much taller than Niel—with even shorter hair, olive skin, and a body structure that suggests a foreign descent.

"We are," Niel responds flatly but politely.

"Excellent! My name is Sakchai, one of Tri-Peaks' Muay Thai instructors, but you can just call me Chai," the first of their instructors greets.

Another adult approaches, one with matching height to Dwayne, bald, and pale skin. "And my name is Theo, the other Muay Thai instructor. It's great seeing younger ones like yourselves try Muay Thai."

Niel introduces himself and Voltaire. "Thank you for having us," he says.

"I hope you two are prepared!" someone from the group of eleven students calls out, "you're gonna get one hell of a workout here!" Light-hearted laughter and verbal agreements from the others echo this sentiment.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

One hell of a workout turns out to be one hell of an understatement. After stretching, the warm-up already proves to be fairly demanding for the two boys, with minimal experience skipping rope or doing callisthenics leading to myriad mistakes and extra energy burned. They're not the only ones struggling, much to their relief, but Niel reigns supreme with how many times he hits himself in the foot with a jump rope, much to his annoyance.

The class breaks up into two groups after this, with more experienced students going with Chai and the newbies with Theo. Here, Niel, Voltaire, and a few others are taught fundamentals like proper stance and movement, and how to throw a jab, cross, and swing kick. Shadowboxing helps to reinforce these motions, with Theo correcting mistakes and giving pointers. Push-ups, sit-ups, or burpees follow three rounds of shadowboxing. The pads and gloves come out next.

Because they don't have their own, Niel and Voltaire have to borrow gloves from the gym. They also think they're going to be paired up together, with one holding the pads and the other with the gloves, but they're instead paired with different, slightly more experienced students who can help them better; Niel with Brock, and Voltaire with Nathan. Not only are the punches and kicks tough and make them feel inflexible, but even holding the pads has its own learning curve. Niel isn't concerned by his partner—in fact Brock is quite helpful and informative—but rather for Voltaire. It looks like the fatigue is making him crabby on top of his pre-existing volatility, something Nathan is having to put up with directly.

Voltaire is abandoning technique and isn't pulling his punches, and whenever Nathan tries correcting him on how to hold the pads, he's always met with an 'I know!' among other things. He's treating this almost like they're sparring, even though they're not. Niel very nearly breaks off from Brock to get him to stand down, but Theo makes the move first. The instructor is quick and decisive with his words, telling Voltaire to cool it and relax. Voltaire shows slight resistance to this, and that's enough for Niel to excuse himself from Brock and pull the thief off to the side.

"Did you forget what I told you before? To behave yourself?" Niel growls, though quietly enough to not be overheard by the others.

"Shut up," Voltaire hisses back.

"If you don't want to be here, then tell the others after we're done." Voltaire is still acting defiant, so Niel takes a different approach. "You were given a choice to come here. If you get yourself kicked out, you won't be given another one. Do you want that?"

"...No."

"Then show me, our instructor, and our guardians that you can control yourself."

With this one-on-one over, both boys stop disrupting their partners' time and return to class. Voltaire still looks angry, but he's acting more favourably now. Well, it's either that or the fatigue everyone else is also strongly feeling. Pad drills continue for several more rounds with water breaks in between, up until the two groups come back together for one last round of conditioning.

50 sit-ups and 50 push-ups may not sound that bad on paper, but it's painful after over an hour of exhaustion, especially when you're out of shape. Some of the more advanced guys are capable of doing it and more, but the boys and most of the other newer students struggle. One even has to excuse himself to go vomit, and Niel would be right behind him if he didn't give in and start crutching on his Dust. Despite all of this, Voltaire somehow keeps up with Niel, though they're both still slow. Chai and Theo give repeated encouragement for everyone to keep going until their reps are done. To close out the session, everyone cools down with one final stretch.

"So how was that for your first class?" Brock asks, standing over Niel before helping him to his feet.

"Exhausting," Niel replies with fatigue heavy in his voice. Brock chuckles. Sweat drips from beneath his longer brown hair and gets caught in the towel around his neck.

"You'll get used to it."

"And you are?"

"Nope. But that's what the guys who've been here for a few years tell me."

Niel lets out a quiet, dry chuckle. Nathan and a couple of other guys approach to chat, and though Niel signals for Voltaire to join them, the thief instead decides to go change in peace.

"He's a tough one, isn't he?" Nathan comments.

"He's..." Niel begins, though he's unsure if he should continue. "He's got some problems to work through."

"Well, as long as he doesn't cause problems, I don't mind him figuring things out here," someone with a blonde ponytail says.

"He'll get used to us eventually," someone else says. "We're all one unit here, so I guess he kinda has to."

This socialization continues into the changing room until everyone decides to drop off one after another and head home. Voltaire has been waiting for Niel in the gym lobby, and they go out into the dark evening where Dwayne's car awaits.

"So, how was your first class? Tiring, I assume?" Dwayne asks jovially once they're in the car.

"Tiring is an understatement. That was the most amount of exercising I've done in..." He was going to say 'in my life,' but that's not true. "...in a long time."

"Ah." Dwayne knows exactly what Niel is referring to. On the other hand, Voltaire assumes that Niel is alluding to his time on the street and is wondering why he doesn't just say it. "What about you, Voltaire?"

"I just want to go lie down," the thief grumbles, eager to go home.

Dwayne chuckles. "Alright, we're going home now."

Back at home, everyone predictably wants to know how things went, but a short explanation will have to suffice until tomorrow when they've rested. After a quick shower each, they both call it an early night and go to bed.

Niel awakens to his alarm the next morning—a rarity, as he usually wakes up an hour or so before it. It's been a while since exhaustion has taken him to sleep so quickly, and he doesn't recall a time when he slept so deeply. Also in his trip down bad-memory lane, it's been a while since he's been so sore. His shoulders are rigid and his legs stiff, and it feels like his arms are going to fall off if he moves them wrongly. Upon convening with the others downstairs, he learns that Voltaire is just as sore and twice as grumpy. Now, with both of them together in front of the adults, they're given the million-dollar question:

"Do you want to go again tomorrow?" Mabel asks.

Niel looks to Voltaire. He'll go if the thief will, but only in that case.

"Do you?" Niel asks Voltaire.

Voltaire grumbles. Even when he's given a choice to, he doesn't like having so many eyes on him waiting for his answer.

"Only if you're going," the thief answers.

"I didn't forget your condition. I'm still going if you're going."

"Then sure."

"I'll let Dwayne know to sign you two up!" Mabel approves.

Thankfully for the two boys, their soreness slowly dissipates as they move again throughout the day—though it never fully disappears, only becoming more manageable as time passes. Voltaire is more than keen to laze in his room after supper, but Niel has a different plan in mind.

"I don't wanna go outside," Voltaire groans from his bed.

Niel sighs. "If we don't work on our cardio, we're going to be hurting in each class we go to."

"Then you can go and run or whatever, and I'll stay here."

It looks like Niel is going to have to compromise. "Then instead of running, why don't we take a walk into the city instead?"

"Why?"

"Because walking is easier than running."

Voltaire groans louder and pulls himself standing. If he doesn't make Niel happy, he's not going to hear the end of it, so he gives up and reluctantly joins him for a walk to the city.

With fall's recent arrival combined with the evening hours, the air is a lot cooler than it's been even a few days ago. It's not cold per se, but it's nowhere near the blistering summer nights that they've had before. It's a pleasant coolness. What isn't pleasant is Voltaire's grumbling.

"Why'd you pick coming into the city over that spot in the woods?" the thief complains as they follow the flow of people along the sidewalk.

"It's a change of pace," Niel elaborates. "If you wanted to go back to the woods, you could've said so earlier."

"Why would I want to be around more people?"

"You say that, yet you want to go to a Muay Thai class with other people."

Voltaire's eyes narrow and his jaw clenches as his annoyance grows. Right when he's about to say something else, a woman who looks to be in her thirties approaches them in a panic.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but have either of you seen a phone in a purple case somewhere around here? I think I might have dropped it..." she says hurriedly.

"I haven't seen anything, sorry," Niel apologizes. But right when she's about to ask someone else, he deploys his Dust and scans the length of the sidewalk, plus her purse and pockets just to be sure she isn't mistaking it as lost. Sure enough, near the bottom of her purse is a peculiarly thin rectangle.

"Excuse me," Niel says to get the woman's attention. "Is it possible that you left it in your purse?"

"No, I already check my purse..." She unzips the bag and shuffles through its contents again, and just as Niel thought, there it is. "Oh my god, it was in here!" she exclaims with a mixture of relief, embarrassment, and self-disappointment.

Niel forces a chuckle and concocts a lie to explain away his Dusty clairvoyance. "I lose my wallet in my pockets all the time, so I was wondering if that was the case for you. Now I triple-check every bag and pocket just to make sure I'm not forgetting anything."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one!" she sighs in relief. "Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed..."

With this phone forgetfulness forum finalized, the woman bids them a good evening and the boys continue their walk. Niel is glad to be of assistance, but Voltaire has other choice words to say.

"If you lose your stuff that easily, then you deserve to have it stolen."

Niel is taken aback by this comment. "Why?"

"Because idiots are the easiest to steal from, especially you if you're dumb enough to lose your wallet in your pocket."

"I was lying when I said that to her."

"Sure you were. Or, what, were you just saying that to make her feel better?" Shit. Voltaire being annoying made Niel lose check of his pride. The thief muses on this increasingly interesting line of thought further. "Actually, if you were just saying that, then how did you know her phone was in her purse? Was it just luck? Or was it because of your Mute that everyone, including you, keeps hiding from me?"

Since when did this annoying asshole get so clever?

"No," Niel blurts out, this rushed response only deepening the hole he dug himself.

"Cool. Okay. Lie and hide it from me then, just like everything else all you assholes do. And somehow you're the one talking about trust."

"I'll share more about myself when I trust you more," Niel refutes, though he knows that Voltaire is correct. His thinking of hiding his Dust from Voltaire is flawed and hypocritical, especially when he told both his surrogate family and Mavrick when he trusted them far less. Then again, that was when he felt he had far less to lose. Despite everything, he still isn't ready to share one of his biggest secrets with someone as scornful and hot-headed as Voltaire, though perhaps he can give a little slack.

"...Fine. I saw her phone using my Mute and lied to cover it up," Niel concedes with a sigh. "But that's all I'm saying for now. Show me I can trust you with my secrets, and I'll tell you more."

"I don't know why it's that big of a deal, but okay," Voltaire responds in a surprisingly tempered tone. "But if you can see things like phones and push people around, then you could take whatever you wanted from people. Hell, you might be a better thief than me."

"I don't steal anymore. And just because someone can be stolen from, doesn't mean that they should be."

"Really? I think of it like, if you're dumb enough to get yourself scammed or stolen from, then you had it coming. How did it go again? 'A fool and his money are soon separated' or something? Why not take advantage of someone stupid like that before someone else does?"

"Because I'm not an asshole."

"So you're a goody two-shoes and a moron, then. Got it."

God, he's an asshole, is all Niel can think of for the rest of the night.