When We Circle Around The Bend

You Came Like A Cloud
The sun has long since fallen from its peak, a navy blanket covering the sky, a few twinkling stars and a sliver of a moon illuminating the ground. Chase is doubled over, heaving his breath as he attempts to regain his lost air and magical energy. He’d long absorbed all of the ethernano in the area in his attempt to get this damned spell to work, and still it was out of his reach. How long had he even been here? He’d gotten there long before dawn, that he knew, and with little break in between each attempt, it was a wonder he hadn’t passed out yet. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he stands back to his full height and begins trudging back to Crocus, a hard glare adorning his features. Why the hell couldn’t he do it? It wasn’t as though it was a super easy spell to achieve, but after a collective week of nonstop training, surely he’d have been able to temporarily access it? But no, not even close. He’d get a certain feeling in his chest where his lacrima resided, but before it could fully activate, he’d just collapse in on himself, his entire body shutting down for a minimum of ten minutes. Chase scrubs his face roughly, trying to keep from falling asleep on his way home. But it was to not avail. Before even the first of the city light could reach him, he’d fallen face first into the dirt, completely exhausted.

Several hours later, Chase discovered himself to be in a bed, covered in blankets that felt much too heavy for what he normally kept with him. Shrugging it off, he assumes he had been too cold after his constant training, which seemed a bit backward, but his sleep-muddled mind did not care one bit about logic.

Peeking out from the top blankets, the sun immediately assaulted his retinas, forcing him to hurriedly shut his eyes again. He squints in the bright light, slowly becoming accustomed to them as he looked at his surroundings. He soon realized the blankets draped over him were not his own, nor was the bed he was sleeping in. He tossed the blankets off himself, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

Still unable to recognized his surroundings, he got the whole way out of the bed. Nothing was amiss in terms of his clothing &mdash; even his sweatshirt was still on &mdash; so he knew that he had fallen asleep because of his exhaustian, rather than getting drugged. Of course, he hadn't eaten anything in the last thirty six hours, and he rarely had anything to drink save for a bottle of water every 6 or so hours, so that alternative was impossible anyway. Shaking off the rest of his sleep with a stretch and a yawn, he creeps out the bedroom he was in and towards the next room, which he assumed was the living room.

After he had stepped into the living room, he was met with no one, which made him a bit disgruntled. Who brought a stranger into their house and then just left them there? What a good way to get your stuff stolen. Fortunately for the owner of the house, Chase wasn’t a robber, nor would he do anything to disrupt their home. However, he wasn’t going to leave without finding out who brought him here and why. So he continued to explore the house.

Two bathrooms, another bedroom, three closets, and a foyer later, Chase has yet to find anybody in this house, and he’s become a more than a little frustrated. Grumbling audibly about airheaded homeowners not keeping a watch over their things, he begins to tread towards the kitchen and is suddenly alerted to a sizzling noise. Were they seriously in the damn kitchen making bacon the whole damned time?! He storms over, a furious glare on his face. Before he steps through the threshold leading into the room, he takes a deep breath in, calming himself. They helped you, don’t be rude. He reminds himself, attempting a friendly smile, which looked more neutral than anything else. He walked through the archway, clearing his throat to gain the other person’s person’s attention, which based on their curvaceous figure and neatly styled medium length hair, was a woman. As they turned around, his suspicions were revealed to be true, and she gave him a small smile when she recognized who he was.

“Good morning,” She says as she turns around, a pan full of bacon in her hand. After a moment, she turns around to place it back on the stove, then turns back to him. Chase is much too confused and angry to even think about questioning her behavior, so he just takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Why am I in your house?” He asks abruptly. A confused and offended look takes over the woman’s features, and it takes her a moment to answer.

“On my morning jog, I found you passed out in the middle of the field. It’s my duty to protect those too dull to go home to sleep, so I took you into my home and allowed you to sleep,” She says, as though just about everyone in the world would do the same thing.

“Well, thanks,” Chase says, unnerved and offended by her words. He skirted his gaze off to the side to avoid looking at her, feeling that he would be unable to convey his gratitude properly, especially being that she hadn’t been very kind about her explanation.

“Well, um, I better be on my way then,” He says, turning around and beginning to exit the room rather hurriedly. However, he gets perhaps four feet before the woman grabs onto the back of his hoodie, holding firm but not pulling on him. Chase stops, turning around slowly.

“Since you are here, you might as well stay for breakfast,” She says, releasing her grip. He thinks he recognizes the look on her face, but he can’t put a name to it, so he pushes it to the back of his mind.

It is enough to convince him to stay, however, being that he is starving and it looked like the woman had prepared too much food anyways. She pointed towards a small table in the next room over, and he walked over there, sitting down in a chair so he could still see the opening to the kitchen. He twiddles his thumbs absentmindedly as he began to study his surroundings.

The house was fairly empty, only having the bare necessities. Each room was painted off-white and one or more windows allowed him to see the outside, with pale, thin drapes hanging on them to allow the sun in. After a few moments of looking, she wandered back in, holding two plates. She set one in front of Chase, and then set the other one in front of the chair across from him.

“I’m Levina, by the way, Levina Yamashita,” She says, as she took a seat. After a moment, Chase realizes he should give his name as well, and quickly swallows his mouthful of food.

“My name is Chase Grimsted,” he answers in return, still not looking directly at her. She hasn't, and still doesn't, say anything about his behavior, which he's been told, is blatantly rude. However, the thought of her looking at him with disgust is enough to allow him to continue.

“So, Chase, what were you doing passed out in the middle of a clearing?” she asks. Chase doesn't feel particularly threatened by the question, so he decides to answer honestly. Not that he could lie about it anyway. He was terrible at lying. Or doing anything other than being direct and blunt.

“Trying to unlock Dragon Dance. The Grand Magic Games are coming up soon and I need to make sure I am not the weakest link.” he says, picking around at his food. Again, she says nothing of his behavior, instead making a small humming sound to show she was listening.

“That’s very noble of you. Don’t overwork yourself,” She says, quickly finishing off the remainder of her breakfast, causing Chase to do the same. She motions for his plate, and he passes it over to her, looking up for a small moment before his gaze quickly shoots back down. Levina takes the dish and disappears into the kitchen again, staying hidden for a few moments, washing the dishes judging by the sound of running water, and then returns again.

“If it is not too much to ask, I would like to assist you in your training. I am also a Dragon Slayer, though a First Generation rather than a Second, so I could not help you with the spell specifically, but I can give you some pointers.” Chase mulls over her offer though ultimately decides to decline, shaking his head before rising out his chair.

“Thank you, but I would rather train alone,” He says, and then he leaves the small dining area. As he passes her, she wishes him luck and allows him to leave.

As it turns out, Chase doesn’t even train at all anyway, just heads home. The soreness in his muscles and the woman’s words, “Don’t overwork yourself,” is enough to ensure he doesn’t activate a single spell. As he steps into his apartment, the sound of his door shutting echoed endlessly in the room, the bleak and gloomy appearance something he’d gotten used to. He toes off his shoes, stepping into his bathroom to wipe all the grime he’d acquired from training. He pities the woman who’d offered him a place to sleep, because the bed he’d slept in, if not the whole room, would reek horribly of his sweat, and he doubted he’d be able to get it out of his clothes after just one wash. He grimaced at the thought, briefly considering burning his clothes though he decides against it. After all, he quite liked his new hoodie.

After a long, frigid shower, he feels refreshed, though still sore and tired. He stops in front of his mirror for a moment to see if he looks as bad as he feels, and is unsurprised to see the same blank and dreary look as he always does. Levina's face flashes in his mind, and he suddenly realizes what the look on her face had been; loneliness. The same loneliness that he stared at every single day when he saw his reflection. After staring at such an expression for only a few moments, rage began to overtake him, and before he quite realizes what he’s doing, he smashes his fist into the glass, his skin breaking and red beginning to bubble up to the surface, the pieces cracking and distorting his image. Cursing, he stares at the blood on his knuckles, taking a few deep breaths in before turning on the sink and washing out his wound. He wraps them in bandages, then heads to his bedroom, collapsing onto his bed and finding sleep almost immediately. However, like most nights, he would feel even worse than when he had gone to sleep, as the nightmares that flashed through his mind as his body rested were impossible to stop.