Chapter 94: Investment 94: Introductions, Properly This Time
"Absolutely not," Futaba said, arms crossed, standing between Kael and the rest of the group like an especially hostile wind gale given human form. "You don’t just get to waltz into our lunch table because Elliot and Seria vouched for you. There’s a process."
"A process," Kael repeated, glancing toward Elliot with the faint, long-suffering expression of a man who suspected he’d walked into a considerably more chaotic social situation than his own family’s political circles had ever prepared him for.
"There is not a process," Edith said, rolling her eyes. "Futaba’s just being dramatic because she hasn’t gotten to properly interrogate someone new in weeks."
"I resent that characterization." Futaba sniffed. "I simply have standards for who gets to sit at this table."
"You once let August sit here after he set fire to the dormitory’s east wing," Deria pointed out.
"That was an emergency exception."
"It was an accident with a cooking spell," August said, mildly offended. "And I’ve apologized for that at least a dozen times."
"The wing still smells faintly of smoke," Futaba said. "Every apology is noted and appreciated, but the smell remains."
Kael, still standing somewhat awkwardly at the table’s edge, glanced toward Elliot with an expression that clearly conveyed a silent, pleading request for guidance.
"They’re always like this," Elliot said, taking pity on him. "Sit down. Futaba’s all bark."
"I have considerable bite too, for the record," Futaba said, though she finally waved Kael toward an open seat with theatrical reluctance. "Fine. Sit. But know that I’ll be watching you very closely, new boy."
"Everyone here seems to be watching me very closely," Kael observed, settling into the offered seat with visible caution. "I’m beginning to sense a pattern."
"You’ll get used to it," Deria said, not unkindly. "We watched Elliot pretty closely too, when he first started actually mattering to the group instead of just being Seria’s quiet, oddly polite fiancé."
"I was never just quiet," Elliot protested.
"You absolutely were," Futaba said. "For the first month, at least, before you started casually saving everyone’s lives on a semi-regular basis and forced us all to take you seriously."
"That’s a considerably more flattering summary than I remember experiencing it," Elliot muttered.
"You’re carrying a fragment tied to the being that supposedly destroyed several worlds," Rose said evenly, not looking up from her own meal. "I’d say the scrutiny is reasonably proportionate."
"Rose!" Elliot hissed.
"What? He knows we know. I fail to see the harm in acknowledging it directly rather than dancing around the subject with excessive delicacy." Rose finally glanced up, studying Kael with the same clinical, assessing focus she applied to nearly everything. "For what it’s worth, I don’t believe carrying Helix’s fragment makes you inherently dangerous, any more than carrying Skion’s makes Elliot inherently safe. Character matters considerably more than origin."
Kael studied her for a long moment, something like genuine surprise settling into his expression. "That’s a remarkably fair assessment. Considerably more fair than I expected from a group I’ve known for exactly one lunch period."
"We contain multitudes," Taumus said cheerfully, stealing a roll from August’s plate without any apparent concern for the theft. "Some of us are terrifying. Some of us are surprisingly reasonable. All of us, unfortunately, are stuck dealing with whatever primordial nonsense you and Elliot have apparently gotten yourselves tangled up in."
"On the bright side," Deria added, "at least we’re all stuck dealing with it together. Misery loves company, and all that."
"Speak for yourself," Leonard said, though his tone carried more weariness than genuine complaint. "I’d rather call it solidarity than misery. Sounds considerably more noble in front of the underclassmen."
"You would," Futaba said, rolling her eyes fondly.
The conversation drifted into easier, more familiar territory after that—academic gossip, complaints about upcoming assignments, Taumus and August’s ongoing, good-natured rivalry over whose combat spell had actually done more damage during their fight with Liam weeks earlier. Kael, though clearly still adjusting to the group’s particular chaotic rhythm, gradually relaxed into the conversation, offering the occasional dry, understated comment that drew genuine, surprised laughter from around the table.
"You know," Edith said eventually, studying him with renewed interest, "you’re considerably less insufferable than your first-impression combat demonstration suggested."
"High praise," Kael said dryly, echoing almost exactly what he’d told Seria days earlier.
"Don’t let it go to your head," Seria said, though there was no real bite behind it now, only quiet, watchful acceptance settling into something closer to genuine welcome.
As the lunch period wound toward its end, Elliot glanced around the table—familiar faces bonded through shared trauma and hard-won trust, and now, tentatively, a new face beginning to settle into that same fragile, precious circle.
Whatever the Architect intended next, Elliot thought, watching Futaba interrogate Kael about his family’s crest with entirely too much theatrical intensity, he suspected their enemy had drastically underestimated exactly how difficult it would be to isolate anyone who fell within this particular group’s growing, stubborn orbit.
"So," Futaba said, leaning across the table toward Kael with predatory curiosity, "tell us something embarrassing about yourself. It’s tradition. Everyone at this table has had to suffer through it eventually."
"I don’t believe that’s actually tradition," Kael said carefully.
"It absolutely is," Deria confirmed solemnly. "August had to admit he cried during a puppet show at age fourteen."
"It was a very moving puppet show," August said, entirely unbothered by the memory being resurrected. "The puppet lost his whole family to a dragon. Anyone with a soul would have cried."
"I didn’t cry," Taumus said.
"You absolutely did," Rose said mildly. "I was sitting right beside you."
Kael glanced between them all, something warm and genuinely amused finally settling fully into his expression, the last of his careful, guarded composure melting away into something considerably more relaxed.
"Fine," he said. "When I was nine, I once tried to duel my own reflection in a hall of mirrors because I genuinely believed it was mocking me."
The table erupted into delighted laughter, and Elliot found himself laughing along with them, watching Kael’s shoulders finally, fully relax into the easy, chaotic warmth of a group that had clearly, without much fuss at all, decided to simply adopt him.