Topher was still trying to wrap his mind around the interaction he'd just had with Sugimoto when Haruko ran up the hall behind him, panting a little. "Bailey-sensei, please excuse me! I was talking to my friends and lost track of time."

Topher shook his head. "It's fine, kid. I'd be in the same boat if I had friends to talk to." He kept staring into space, trying to figure out how to process the information he'd just learned; his brain, already reeling and stuffed with magical factoids, was choking on the vision of Sugimoto chopping a mountain off at its roots so that Arima could turn it into a ten-million-ton railgun bullet, and having that be insufficient to obliterate any aspect at all of the Demon Lord's forces. Learning that he and the other F-Rankers were the sacrificial goats of the war effort was so far down on the list of things he had to process that it might as well have been next year's dentist appointment.

Haruko, following his gaze, misunderstood entirely. "You're staring at the dungeon entrance; are you thinking about Watanabe-san?"

Topher choked. Shit! It's been, what, three or four days? Cailu might already be dead. "Crap. Come on, hurry." Grabbing Haruko by the hand, he hustled out the gate and half-ran, half-staggered to the nearest food stall, where he purchased a sack of bread and water rations at ruinous expense; turning on his heel, he dashed back to the castle, but the guards were eyeing him suspiciously.

"What's your hurry, F-Ranker?" asked one of the guards, picking his teeth and giving Topher the stink-eye. "It's bad enough you've stunk up the castle once already today. Maybe you should take a bath before you go back for seconds."

This piece of shit, thought Topher tiredly. He fished a cigarette out of his pocket -- the last one from his last pack, which meant he'd have to deal with Oguro soon for some more -- and lit it sullenly, then looked over at the guard. Like you're not F-Rank too, pal. "Some fancy kid named Sugimoto asked me to take care of something. But if you don't want to let me in, that's fine."

If name-dropping Takano had opened doors for them in the past, mentioning Sugimoto metaphorically disintegrated them; the guards turned white, and Topher could practically hear their sphincters tightening. Without a word, they scrambled out of the way and stood painfully erect at the sides of the entrance, not even daring to make eye contact. Topher smirked and took a pull off his cigarette, letting it out slowly as he stalked between the guards; it was cheap and petty, but there was very little Topher was above at this point. "Appreciate it, gentlemen."

Haruko stood stock-still for a moment, then dashed to catch up with him. "You spoke to Sugimoto-sama?! What did he want? What did he say?"

Topher winced. "He said a lot of things." He grappled with his ego and resentment for a moment, trying to figure out how to word it in a way that would make sense to the young woman, but eventually gave up with a sigh. "Mostly, he said to try your best. That..." -- he had to choke down a little bile -- "...we have our role to play in the war too, however small."

"Oh my gosh! Oh, gosh!" Haruko's eyes were shining like it was Christmas; Topher felt a burning mote of self-hatred settle into his belly. "Sugimoto-sama... cheering me on...!" She practically floated the rest of the way to the dungeon entrance; Topher shoved open the door perfunctorily and descended down the stairs into the darkness. It was much easier this time, since he had actual boots on.

As they approached Cailu's cell, Topher cautioned Haruko to stay back; he crept forward, holding the bag over his shoulder so as not to strain his arms. As the elf's form (still disguised as Ichirou) came into view, it began to fuzz, fray, and waver; Topher cursed. Right. Stupid Disrupt Illusion. Cailu sat up, alarmed; Topher cleared his throat. "Chill out. It's me."

The elf darted to the bars. "What is happening? Something seems to be interfering with the magic of the amulet."

Topher winced. "Yeah, that's probably me. I somehow got stuck with a Disrupt Illusion skill that activates whenever I get near one, whether I want it to or not." He handed the bag unceremoniously to the elf, then gestured Haruko forward. "Haruko, this is Cailu Leafwind. Don't ask why he's here instead of Ichirou; it's too complicated for me to explain right now."

Haruko, shyly, bowed a little. "Leafwind-san. Pleased to meet you."

Cailu's eyes flicked from Haruko to Topher and back, but the elf stayed silent. Opening the bag, he sighed with relief. "Provisions. I had almost run out of water from your previous visit."

"Yeah, getting down here's been a little challenging." Topher sat down on the floor, crossing his legs, and eyed the elf; Cailu did the same. "I went to see Oguro; I tried to negotiate a cut for you; things got complicated, and there was violence. But we were able to sell a few things; tell me what kind of cut you were expecting from the sale, and I'll see what I can work out." Topher was a little worried Haruko would chip in about his heavily edited version of events, but she stayed quiet; hooray for small blessings.

Cailu pondered. "Ideally, about two hundred gold; but given the circumstances, I'd be happy just to be released from captivity. Any amount of money you see fit to send my way on top of that would be a bonus."

"Yeah, about that." Topher leaned forward. "If you were running out of food and water, I'm guessing the guards haven't been down here to feed or check on you; sound about right?"

The elf nodded, a disgusted expression on his face. "As before, I have seen no one since I was imprisoned here. I believe our previous suspicions were correct; they have either forgotten about me, or are hoping I will perish down here in the darkness."

"That's about what I expected. I talked with a few of the people in charge; the short version is they don't give a crap about any of us, including you." Topher took a pull on his cigarette, then let out a long, slow breath of smoke. "So I think you should disappear."

Cailu's thin, long-fingered hands gripped the bars. "When?"

"Pretty soon. I think it should be at least a few days from now; otherwise, people might still put two and two together that you vanished right after we were speaking to you." Topher doubted the elf cared at all about what happened to them, but he wouldn't say that out loud. "So what I think we should do is make a plan tonight, then execute it in a few days when we all have an alibi; the bread and water in that bag should hold you over at least until then."

"Very well." The elf stowed the bag under a pile of straw. "What is your plan?"

Topher shook his head. "Buddy, I don't have a plan. That's your department. What I do have are a couple of facts that might let you make a plan." He held up two fingers. "First, the door to the dungeon is basically never locked; so if you can get out of your cell, you should be home free. Two, if you come out of the dungeon as someone other than Ichirou, I don't think anyone will notice or care; to be honest, you could probably walk out of the dungeon right now and have about a fifty-fifty chance of just strolling out of the castle. But I imagine you'd like better odds than that."

The elf nodded, then looked thoughtful. "If you could get me a concealing garment -- particularly the sorts of things that another Otherworlder might wear -- I could likely pass myself off as one. Although it might be challenging, given my race."

"What about using your illusion amulet?" countered Topher. "Can you make yourself look like anyone in particular, or just Ichirou?"

The elf frowned. "I could change the image stored within it to another, but they would have to be within my line of sight. It is possible that I could wait for you to enter, assume your form, and then depart, and no one would be the wiser. Until, of course, you departed yourself."

"Yeah, well, I have some ideas about that." Topher didn't want to overplay his hand; best to keep things simple for now. "But that still leaves us stuck unless we can find a way to get you out of your cell. What about the Copy Mundane Object Skill?" Topher had to assume that the amulet didn't allow Cailu to copy the real Ichirou's Unique Skill; if illusion magic was that powerful, everyone would be using it. "Can we sneak you a crowbar, or a lockpick, or something?"

Cailu shook his head. "These doors are magically locked. If you could steal the key, I could copy it, and then you could return it before the theft was noticed; other than that, however, I do not know."

"Huh. Well, we'll see if we can think of something else; if not, we'll try to pull off the Great Key Heist." Topher stood up, dusting off his jeans. "But that's definitely gonna be a last resort; we're a bunch of F-Rankers, not a crack team of thieves."

The elf nodded. "Understood. I'll await further instructions."

Topher turned to leave; Haruko lingered for a moment, then gave a shy half-wave. "Farewell, Leafwind-san. It was nice to meet you."

Unexpectedly, the elf bowed deeply; Topher hadn't expected that. "Fair skies and flowering paths, human girl." Haruko blushed.

"Come on, let's go." Topher tugged Haruko away, leaving Cailu behind in the darkness. Shoulda brought him a book, Topher realized. Oh well, too late now. Hopefully the elf wouldn't hold a grudge when -- if, Topher's brain snidely corrected -- he got out.

"Bailey-sensei? Can I ask for an explanation now?" The shy girl's hesitant voice made him pause, then shake his head.

"The short version is that the Ichirou Watanabe you met was that elf in disguise; someone tried to kill him because they thought he was the real Ichirou, and the rest you know. Without him, we wouldn't have been able to sell our stuff to Oguro; so I figure we owe him at least a little. I don't know if we owe him enough to try to steal the dungeon keys, though."

"Don't we?" Haruko was obviously not being objective here, in Topher's opinion. "He was the only one to help us."

"He helped us because he was trying to screw us over, kid," snapped Topher irritably. "The only reason he told us how to find Oguro was because he couldn't steal everything we had and sell it to Oguro himself. He's a thief and a con-man --" con-elf? "-- and the only reason I'm even considering trying to save him is because I don't like how these assholes at the castle have left him to starve all alone in the dark without even bothering to try to find out if he's innocent." He glared balefully up the stairs and sighed, then began the unpleasant climb back to the dungeon exit.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Haruko followed along, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, Bailey-sensei. I just..." she trailed off. "I don't know. It feels wrong."

Topher slowed, then stopped. He stared ahead into the darkness for a long moment, then sighed. "It does, doesn't it." He looked back at the young woman, who was looking away shyly, then turned back again. "Damn it. Me and my big mouth."

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Upon returning to the inn, Topher dropped off all his notes in Haruko's room, then stomped down the hall to the room Hotaka and Noboru shared; he paused a moment, then knocked on the door roughly. "Hotaka? You in there?"

After a moment, the door opened; but instead of Hotaka's slight, owlish visage, he was instead greeted by Noboru. The fat boy was looking a little slimmer, Topher noticed, and was dressed in a white robe this time instead of a beige one. "Bailey-sensei. Hotaka-kun is out; is it something I can help you with?"

Topher twitched, already itching for another hit of Noboru's Chant of Vigor, but he forced himself to shake his head. "Thanks. I'll just wait for him."

"As you wish." The larger boy turned and walked softly back to one of the low desks which butted up against the beds on each wall of the room; Topher noticed that a number of wooden plates were stacked on it. "Practicing your Skill?"

Noboru seated himself at the desk, then shook his head. "I am studying, Bailey-sensei. Training to become a priest."

A...? Topher was shocked; he'd never heard Noboru say anything religious or even spiritual. "What the heck you want to do that for?"

The fat boy shrugged, continuing to peruse the wooden plates. "It is a vocation; one may earn a few coins. As a Cantor, there are few other options available to me."

Topher couldn't even process this information; after a moment, he sat on the bed near Noboru. "Kid, I'm probably not the greatest person to dispense life advice, but I think it might be worth investigating those other options. Being a priest of a foreign religion doesn't seem like the kind of thing you should do lightly."

Noboru sighed, then looked up at the ceiling. "As an F-Ranker, I am not allowed to serve with the other support-class members of the armies; I do not have the disposition to be an adventurer. That leaves the options of 'priest' or 'beggar', and I have little doubt that my Cantor powers would be better put to use as one of the former." He closed his eyes. "Feeble as they are."

Topher wanted to reassure the kid, but his heart wasn't in it; not after hearing Sugimoto describe the real scope of what was happening here. "Still, though. You aren't wrong, but you probably don't want to wind up worshipping some crazy sky elemental, either."

"You might be surprised, Topher-sensei." Noboru resumed looking through the wooden plates. "The priesthood here is strange to our sensibilities. They worship divinity, rather than the divine; there is no pantheon, no Almighty God like the Christians. One merely espouses a set of principles which are assumed to be pleasing to both oneself and one's audience; in time, I may even learn to cast some small amount of healing magic. It is the best of a very small list of options."

Topher contemplated it, then nodded. "Okay. It's your life, I guess."

"Quite so." The fat boy seemed satisfied, but a little sad. For the first time, Topher noticed that his hands were covered with small scars.

"Uh... right." Topher got the impression Noboru wanted to be left alone, so he stood up. "On second thought, I'll go wait in my suite. If you could send Hotaka over when he gets back, that'd be great."

"I shall." Noboru rose and showed Topher out into the hall, then closed the door behind him.

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It took more than an hour for Hotaka to return; Topher wanted to ask where he'd been, but abstained. I don't need whatever his drama is on top of Noboru's and Haruko's. Thank God for Makoto, who just wants to punch the world. Maybe I shouldn't have left the loft either.

When Hotaka knocked on Topher's door, he was ready; he opened it, then gestured for the bookish boy to follow him. He knocked on Haruko's door, then entered when the shy girl opened it. "Hey. Hotaka, have a look at these." Topher gathered up the notes they'd both taken in class and shoved them into the young man's hands. "I don't have time to explain everything, but the short version is that Haruko needs to figure all this out by tomorrow, and we're gonna help her. Got it?"

Hotaka opened his mouth, closed it, and smiled. "Of course, Bailey-sensei. I will endeavor to assist however I may." He began reading through the notes quickly, giving Topher a feeling of satisfaction; apparently his hunch to enlist the little nerd had been right on the money. Turning away, he sat down with Haruko. "Now, let's pick our battles. We only need you to cast one spell, so let's figure out which one." Haruko nodded, and pulled out the page with the list of options. Topher sighed, adjusted his glasses, and got down to work.

The instructor had made it clear that different spells would be easier or more difficult for each person, based on their Class and Skills; he had outlined five possible spells for each student to attempt. Immediately, Topher crossed the Minor Illusion spell off the list; its runic formula was by far the longest, and he'd understood enough of its discussion in class to know that it was easily the most complicated -- something about having to adjust your casting for the number of witnesses, total bullshit. That left four options: Mage Light, Mage Hand, Mage Shield, and Magic Dart.

Haruko puzzled over the list for a long time, then tentatively settled her dainty fingertip on the Mage Light spell. "I think this one will be the easiest for my Skill, Bailey-sensei. It also only has a few runes, and all of them are of the common series; no high runes or grand runes."

Topher nodded. "Okay. Looks like there's four runes; let's start there." He turned to Hotaka. "You caught up?"

"Not remotely, Bailey-sensei. But I believe I have a basic grasp of the sixty-four common runes; I can assist with constructing the runic sequence, although what one does with it is still beyond my understanding."

"That goes for all three of us," growled Topher. "But let's start at the beginning."

The three of them worked far into the night; they tried combination after combination, strategy after strategy. The entire thing confused Topher; not only were there complex calculations in determining which runes to be used for the spell, based on the parameters of the spell, but also more obscure and esoteric elements such as channeling one's mana and rigorously visualizing structures or concepts. His brain hurt just trying to understand it; he couldn't imagine how difficult it must be for Haruko to actually attempt it.

It was the sixteenth attempt, or perhaps the seventeenth, that finally produced a result other than disappointment and acrimony; a fat spark jumped from Haruko's fingers and singed Topher's pant leg. They were able to put it out, but it was disheartening; Topher could tell Haruko was getting worn down. "Maybe we should take a break. What would you kids say to something to eat?"

Haruko shook her head, bending her head low over the pages of notes. "I can keep working, Bailey-sensei. I can do it."

"Haruko-chan, Bailey-sensei might need a rest. We'll go get everyone something to eat." Hotaka gently guided Topher out the door and out into the hall, then quietly closed the door behind them.

Topher blew out a long breath, then took off his glasses and massaged his aching eyes. "That kid is gonna kill herself."

Hotaka smiled. "I think she will succeed, Bailey-sensei. You don't know her as we do." He gestured for Topher to lead the way, and they went down the stairs and out into the street, looking for any food stalls that might still be open.

As they walked, a thought struck Topher. "Hotaka, did you know someone named Saiki in your school?"

"Saiki-sama? I did." Hotaka's expression was unreadable. "We were... not friends."

Topher grimaced. "Let me guess. Rich kid, amazing at everything, super pretty? Popular, but kind of a bitch about it?"

Hotaka chuckled. "Quite so, Bailey-sensei. How did you know?"

"Let's just say I'm sensing a pattern." They finally found a stand selling steamed wraps; Topher did not know what animal the meat came from, and did not ask. "Would it surprise you to learn she's one of the S-Rankers, with some kind of ridiculous monster skill called Air Command that can apparently stomp whole armies?"

"It would not." Hotaka took a bite of his wrap and chewed thoughtfully. "What are you getting at, Bailey-sensei?"

"One more question first." Topher shifted the bag in his other hand, carrying his meal and Haruko's, carefully; belatedly, he wondered if they should have gotten something for Noboru. "That kid with the crush on Haruko -- Takano, or whatever -- was he also rich and popular and talented, but less so? In other words, would you say he was B-Rank before the summoning?"

"I suppose that would depend on one's point of view. I was not personally friends with Takano-san, but your assessment does not strike me as inaccurate." The young man's calm, serious eyes searched Topher's. "What are you saying, precisely?"

Topher sighed. "I'm saying -- and sorry, kid, this is gonna sound harsh -- that whether or not we were determined to be F-Rank here wasn't an accident. That the spell sorted our statuses along pretty much the same lines it had in life; the pretty and talented become more pretty and talented here, and the losers..." he gestured around. "You can figure out the rest."

Hotaka nodded, more than a little sadly. "I cannot argue with your logic, Bailey-sensei. We were, to use your phrasing, losers."

"Right." Topher bulled ahead. "So what happened to Haruko? To be blunt, she's not like the rest of us. Noboru's fat; you're a nerd. Makoto's a tomboy. What was Haruko ostracized for? She seemed to have a lot of friends, back in the class."

Hotaka laughed; it was not a cheerful laugh. Topher squinted, confused. "Bailey-sensei, did you see Haruko-chan's skills? When you were copying them down from our statuses?"

"Uhhh..." Topher tried to remember. "I remember she had something at A-Rank, but..."

"It was Anger Management, Bailey-sensei. Does Haruko-chan strike you as the sort of person to normally struggle with anger?"

Topher got it, finally. "You're saying she was bullied worse than any of you. But why? She's such a sweet, pretty girl."

Hotaka coughed. "Her family is not... normal. One of her grandparents was Korean."

"So what? Isn't Korea pretty close to Japan?" Hotaka gave him a wide-eyed look, then laughed again.

"Bailey-sensei," he began, hesitantly, "would it surprise you to learn that racism in Japan is a serious problem? Haruko-chan is constantly called all manner of horrible names; 'dog-blooded' is probably the most kind of them. And the girls she regards as her friends mostly just humor her; in our culture, she is someone who 'cannot read the air'. She doesn't know they're making fun of her." His gaze grew contemplative. "Which is, perhaps, a blessing; most of the other girls have always been actively abusive to her."

"Jesus." Topher couldn't believe that anyone would ever want to be shitty to Haruko. "Anybody ever tell you kids that you're a bunch of assholes?"

Hotaka looked up at the stars. "It is surprisingly common. But I suspect our cultures are not that different." He looked back at Topher. "In America, when you go to the funeral of a good man, do people speak well of him, or do they complain that he was not as virtuous as he pretended? And when they go to the funeral of an evil man, do they condemn his reprehensible actions, or do they make every effort to justify his victories?"

Topher spat, disgusted. "You know the answer."

"I suppose that I do." Hotaka didn't speak again the entire way back to the inn.

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It must have been past midnight; Hotaka had passed out, and Topher didn't have the heart to wake him. Haruko was clearly at the edge of her strength; each time she assembled another set of runes, Topher thought for sure it would be the one that broke her willpower. Failure after failure, nearly all of them total; she might as well be trying to bite her earlobe, thought Topher tiredly. He wished Hotaka could have inspected her status; for all they knew, she might not even have any MP, and none of this would do anything.

He almost missed it when it happened; a dim little glow in her cupped hands, where there should have been only the wan flickering of the candles on the table. Then, when he realized what he was seeing, he held his breath; he didn't want to distract her.

"Bailey-sensei," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Bailey-sensei."

As they both watched, dumbstruck with awe and fatigue, a beautiful shape bloomed between her fingers: a six-inch manifestation, half light and half flame, that unfolded like petals around an inner heart of golden radiance. "I did it. Oh, Bailey-sensei, I did it!" Struggling to her feet, she raised her hands above her head; the radiant blossom hung in the air, unsupported, like a benediction.

Her eyes were fixed on the flower, tears streaming down her cheeks; but Topher couldn't look away from her face. It had an expression of pure, rapturous joy; he'd never seen anything like it.

Well, shit. Now we have to go to class again tomorrow.