"Yukimura-san, you don't know why Aya-san wasn't as practice this morning, do you?" Flayn asked softly, before the teacher came in. "Only I promised Mimi-san and Usagi-san I would ask you, just in case."

More than a few friends must have whispered similar questions up and down the hallways. Seteth was fending off Manuela and Youji both at different points. The sinking feeling that comes from knowing all-too-intimately what the worst case scenario might be left him a little more snappish with them than he would otherwise be.

When the call finally came, he said all the right words to the Fujimiyas' representative on the other side of the phone line (he couldn't remember if they identified themselves as an uncle or a doctor, but there was documentation in his email account), then he put his face in his hands for about three minutes and tried not to fall down a winding staircase of empathy for her family and friends. He would have to tell--

Flayn found him like that, poking her head in to repeat her inquiry on behalf of the girls' tennis team, in between classes.

A deep chill muted her entire being, seeing him like that. She had no evidence it was connected to the fear she and her friends were slowly entertaining, but she knew, in the quiet way you sometimes did.

"Father?"

"Yes, my dearest," he said, automatic and heavy. Propriety be damned, this was his office and if his daughter was going to be upset by hearing about her friend, he was going to hold her as he explained what he could about what happened.

"We must go and visit her," Flayn insisted, tears very much about to fall but held back by her resolve to act.

"You will," he promised. "You'll go and tell her everything she needs to know and make her recovery a great deal less scary to her than it must be, I am sure, but let her family have some peace with her until school is out, please. I'm going to tell her class the same thing, and I am sure it will spread from there."

The sight of him stepping to the front of the class and conferencing with their teacher definitely filled everyone with dread, Yanagi included. More than a few people glanced at the empty seat.

But to his credit, Seteth explained things concisely. Yanagi appreciated his professional lack of sensationalism, his refusal to speculate despite demands to do so. He preferred that feeling of appreciation to the sinking feeling in his gut. He hated to imagine Aya stilled and silent, and the reassurance that she was already in recovery was a needed balm, but it was hard not drifting back to that first shock of bad news and dwelling there. How was he going to get through the rest of the year if Aya didn't make it back in time? Anyone could provide data, but Aya was a friend who knew him well enough to know what he wanted to know and tell him to keep his nose to himself when he went too far.

It was all, all too familiar.

Seteth expected the rumor mill to do the rest and Yanagi walked in a bit of a daze to where he usually met up with Yukimura and Sanada. Sanada had a dark look on his face that made Yanagi hope for a moment he'd been spared the duty of messenger, but after a moment it was clear the anger was from not knowing.

"The tennis clubs' gossip circuit is getting out of control," he said roughly.

"It's not gossip to wonder, and it's not gossiping if it's true, Genichiro," Yanagi said, slowly to choose his words. "The headmaster just spoke to my class."


Sanada turned to him with such speed and menace that Yanagi almost took a step back. "Himself?"

"Yes. Her family called the school in the morning to report it was an accident. Not-- not sickness. Injury. Already in recovery."

Syncopated information bytes. Yanagi had no idea if they helped, he just saw Sanada clouding over in the old familiar way.

"Cancel practice. On my authority. I'll tell Yukimura and Nami."