I slept the righteous sleep of the victorious sportswoman. We had not only won on points and scores, but we had also won the most important victory: morale. We had gone home in cheers and song, they had slunk away with grass-stains and healed injuries. As it turns out, even if you can't translate the lyrics to fit the meter, stomp-stomp-clap is still wonderfully triumphant. We were not poor sports, we did not gloat or rub their noses in their loss, but we had that electric charge of Winning running through us all!

  And from there, to the showers, and to the beds, where I'm sure every camogie player had the same exhausted exultation stamped in their dreams.

  There's nothing quite like having such a great evening that it bleeds over into a wonderful night's sleep that carries a buzzing jubilant excitement even the next day. But that's what I had, and everyone that I could see that had also been on that camogie pitch with us had the same smile I could feel on my own face.

  The next morning was a day of classes and when I got to homeroom, I found that Nathan was waiting for me in Quarl Billiams' usual spot, while the assassin was sitting across the room looking totally nonchalant like nothing was out of the ordinary no sir. He did not even glance over in my direction to make sure things were on the level- but I still had the distinct impression of his awareness. A neat trick.

  "Good morning Nathan," I said, sitting down. "How have you been?" I tried not to either brash into him with my bubbling good mood, or to visibly tamp it down as if seeing him here was a downer for me.

  "Good morning Natalie," he said, his voice dry and even. "Word is you killed two girls yesterday." I saw the sparkling mischief, teasing me. Siblings will sibble, I guess. But when the sibling wants to tease, you can never let them know they're under your skin.

  I tossed my hair. No one as nonchalant as I. "Hah. I injured only one, and she was mostly just shaken up."

  "And you did not chase half the camogie team around the field screaming and threatening them?" His eyebrow was accusatory but his smile was amused.

  "Not half, like... four at the most. And I did not scream. Or threaten. Wait, I threatened one girl." I had to chuckle a little at myself. Trying to play it down but I still was bound to be accurate.

  He looked even more amused by this point. "I have never even heard of camogie until a few weeks ago. When did you learn to play it?"

  "Ah that's the secret, Nathan," I said. "The hardest move in camogie is soloing. You would recognize it as an egg-and-spoon race. I've been in training for years on the quiet."

  He looked skeptical. "That's... partly true, but.. I don't know. I'm not even sure how you could fib about this. Anyway, I did not come to discuss your suddenly-revealed penchant for violent field sport. Despite how very amusing it is. Do they really call you Killer?"

  "They actually do," I chuckled a little softer.

  "That... I don't know, I wouldn't necessarily be okay with that if I was in your shoes," he said. "That has to be some difficult memories."

  I shrugged. "I'm tough. Everyone knows I'm tough. I'll be fine."

  Nathan was not looking at me as if he knows I'm tough and fine. He was looking at me like I might be sensitive and hurting.

  "But," I said back, "you said you're not actually here for that?" Gotta change the subject. It's probably not a bad sign that I'm uncomfortable talking about my very real insecurities right?

  "That is correct," he said. "As you suggested, Curigi and I went to the Silver Brick Inn." The words sounded like a very casual lead-in, but his tone let me know that this was not a light subject for him.

  "Good," I said, glancing across at Skeici Gianwen. Fortunately the yandere stalker was not glaring at me, she seemed to understand that I was not a threat to her obsession with my brother. I don't need to navigate whatever he's about to lay on me and also fear for my life.

  "Natalie, people tried to kill us down there," he said. He sounded affronted. Not quite like I had set him up, but just offended that people would want him dead just for investigating a supply depot.

  I glanced at him, a little incredulous. "You did take the cane-sword like I suggested, right?"

  "Yes, and I was able to take care of them," he said. "You did know they were going to try to kill me?"

  I folded one hand over my mouth, and tried to formulate my response. I had a lot of thoughts to work through.

  He doesn't know he's in a video game. It's very reasonable for him to act like a real person who's investigating a conspiracy and gets attacked by thugs. He's only had someone try to kill him once or twice before, ever. He did not sign up for this. It's very normal for him to be upset about this.

  But why the fuck does he think I sent him for a sword?

  Okay, he's been training as a fencer but that's not the same thing as training as a warrior. He's on the spy track, not the swashbuckler track. It's very reasonable that he's never really considered life-and-death battle. So, the thing to do is to ask him to consider that and ease him into this.

  "Nathan, going forward, things are frequently going to be dangerous. You will often need to be prepared. I'm going to recommend that you never go anywhere unarmed. Especially when you are engaged in these investigations. You are very capable and very clever, and those are going to be your greatest assets, to be sure. But violence should rarely be entirely out of consideration, from now on. You are looking for the trail of dangerous people, and much like hunting dangerous animals you must be prepared to find what you seek."

  Gods help me. I've already killed dozens of gangsters and pirates, blown up a lich, robbed a bank, nearly been killed by my own magic, detonated two monster cities, commissioned an adventurer's mission, dodged assassins... and my brother is down to frown because he had to fight a couple of bandits. He has got a lot of catching up to do.

  No no, that's not fair. He's still in the "dating sim visual novel" part of the gameplay. He's just now entering the action adventure. I need to be patient with him.

  On the other hand (a much less charitable hand, that is), my title here is "Rival". I'm intended to be better than him at everything, constantly forcing him to push himself to meet my standard. Grades, athletics, popularity, love interests, and I suppose that might even include his role as a hero and a savior. We're nearly to the first posting of the class rankings, time to really let my Rival credentials show.

  It's hard to have a rival for a brother. On the one hand, there's the need to not gloat because that's mean. On the other hand, there's the need to push him to meet me on my level because that's my role. It's hard to meet both of those consistently.

  He tapped his fingers against the tabletop. "Natalie... Is there anything you can tell me about our future? Anything that would ease my mind?"

  This requires a thoughtful answer. But it also deserves a natural, unprompted answer. I channeled lightning with my off-hand so that I could accelerate my thinking, and spent a good few minutes thinking about the right words to say, without leaving him hanging on a long pause. I wanted this to feel off-the-cuff and not rehearsed, so I needed time.

  I also needed a moment to shut down my snarky, sarcastic stream-of-consciousness answer, which would play out something like Nathan, baby, you don't think I've been dragging around soul-shattering tragedies for my whole life alongside you because everything is going to be safe, did you? Can you really be surprised that our lives include difficulty, pain, risk, and adversity when you know goddamn well that I've been haunted by these visions for every moment you've been alive?

  That conversation would not be productive. Satisfying, maybe, but not productive. So instead, I need to say something that builds him up and prepares him for greater trials in the future.

  "It's going to be hard. It's going to be frightening, difficult and confusing. The challenges that you and I face are going to be very different. Of the two.. yours are going to be much more straightforward. Your ability to connect to people is going to be your most valuable asset. I'm going to say that again: your ability to connect to people is going to be your most valuable asset. Understood? Your mind, sword, skills, plans and your training all build off of that. Now: you're a great man, already, Nathan. You want to save lives. So do that. And I'll try to always be close. When I can tell you more, I shall. And someday, everything."

  "Thank you." He looked me right in the eye, and I made sure not to flinch this time. Sometimes I turn away- sometimes when I'm trying to get away with a fib, or I'm ashamed of how close I'm coming to skirting a fib. Or, sometimes even because I'm ashamed of how sincere I'm being. To me they all feel like the same flinch, the same eyes turned away. But nobody else seems to think so. This time I hold his eyes and force myself not to flinch form my promise and not to shy away from sincerity. This time I force myself to be genuine on purpose.

  It felt good.

  Even though I know that I'm going to have to stand in front of him and say I need to fight you, I need us to be enemies. How can I expect him to trust me? How can I come to him and say this time we're not on the same side but this is us fighting for the same thing, and have him not think I'm fucking with him? He's not an idiot. He would have to think I'm manipulating him.

  "Tell me there will be a day that we don't need secrets," he said to me.

  I had a single bubble of laughter force its way out of my chest. "After fifteen years, we're almost there. Five years, and no more."

  Nathan is a man of wonderful expression. His smiles are so warm, so genuine, so real. And right now, in the homeroom side by side, I have told him exactly how long he has to wait before he has all of my secrets, all of my sadness, all of the time I've been hiding from him. And it is the brightest, most honest smile I've ever seen from him.

  Which worries me most?: that I will lose his trust, or that I will not deserve his trust?

  Josse Salles had her notebooks clutched to her chest as she approached, and Nathan gave her a welcoming smile. The girl was his number-one sidekick, helping to keep everything organized and always ready to give him a sympathetic ear to bounce ideas off of. She's his main wingman as he navigates the first year of romance options. But right now, neither of them is aware of her growing crush on him.

  "Sorry to intrude, Nathan, Lady Harigold. I believe that something I've just overheard may be relevant and fruitful, and you had told me that-"

  She's a favorite of mine for my playthroughs: a petite cutie with ponytailed blue hair that tufts up in the front. She's not available to romance early, and you can only get her good endings if you are stringing along at least one other girl right up until the wedding day, which makes her contentious among the fandom. They label her a homewrecker even though she is literally never portrayed that way. But I often include at least some of her path; you do need her with you to unlock the Trapstar and she does give you the only ending cutscene with unique music. All of those are very valid reasons to pursue her path later in the game. But in our first year, she's basically a secretary that has useful input on the other romantic interests.

  And if she's overheard something in homeroom class, then it must be nearly time for the Fogdove Association to enter the story. One of many, many buffers and layers of organization between Nathan and the actual leadership of the conspiracy that is working against the Harigolds. In a way I feel like I'm cheating, I've already got the names, I've spoken to some of the hidden cover double-secret underworld bosses that are behind this. He's still fishing through the various money-laundering schemes and working his way up the food chain.

  "You go on, Nathan, be the hero," I said, and patted him on the shoulder. This was where he needed to be, starting at the bottom, building to a level that he can challenge the final bosses. I could be proud of him, doing the hard work. He stood up and moved to Josse's side, intently interested in this new clue she had unearthed.

  The rest of class went quietly. I had music to work on, after all. I had invested almost everything I had in the commodities exchange, and now I needed to make sure I could finance a treasure-hunting expedition soon. Once my geography teacher assigns the survey homework I should be eligible to pick up the main quest XP rewards for the Wanfarrun barbarian temple in Uchislowi Jungle. And I was going to need that money to finance the expedition in the Hearstcliff crypts, with those damned mathematicians and their diabolical traps.

  So damn many of my goals require money. I understand that this is just as true of everyone, but you'd think that having money would alleviate some of the need to have more money to do what I need to do. Is that the nature of the game, or just the nature of money?

  Or, am I really just rich, entitled, privileged and as money-hungry as everyone else from that background, but doing a better job justifying it to myself? I'm not arrogant enough to think that I'm uniquely immune to the usual pitfalls of my social class, especially the ones that always feel justified from their perspective.

  ... But it sure feels like all of my money is going towards specific and concrete goals and not just feeding an endless cycle of acquisition and consumption.

  Quarl was settled in where he was, and he stayed put after Nathan moved away. Maybe it would be conspicuous for him to uproot and come take that seat as if he was waiting for Nathan to leave. He is allergic to looking conspicuous. Or maybe it was just genuinely comfortable for him to chill out over there and he was not going to make a production out of this. I should try not to project my own expectations onto people's behavior quite so much. Especially when so few of my expectations are flattering to them.

  I should work on that.

  Ding. Dong.

  I tossed my pages into the pocket dimension and headed for the front door, jostling good-naturedly with the other students that filled the halls, all of us already thinking about our next classes. I felt good. And not just the overflow from last night's game, I've got a good feeling about the future. Good conversation, and I think that Nathan is going to do just fine without me micromanaging his investigation. He's already bypassed the main stumbling blocks because he's not losing half his free time to Kiri Sizomaji, and he's got Josse actively helping him. I really don't want to have to obsess over the details of his -

  CRACK

  And, freeze. Outside the front doors was a wide portico supported by marble columns, and there was a terrible shattering cracking noise as six of the columns blew outward, blasted out away from me and into the quad, narrowly missing two students out there. The noise of shattering stone was thunderous at this range, and I stared in shock as the massive pillars were blown to smithereens.

  And then the stone awning supported by those pillars collapsed, tumbling inward. It was moving too fast.

  This was a building I had seen plenty of, and this had never happened in the game. I hate surprises. The building has that typically Greco-Roman styling, with the row of columns in front holding up a massive marble tablature and pediment, the overhang awning with the relief-fa?ade carved into it. And it was coming down in pieces right onto the wave of exiting pupils.

  Time slowed to a crawl, I brought essence of lightning into my mind and body. The stones were breaking into sharp blocks, massive slabs of jagged marble that would crush anyone to death. I could not channel enough steel essence to save myself from this. And no amount of steel essence would save the other two-dozen students on the veranda with me. They would all be crushed to death.

  They were too spread out, I would never be able to get more than two or three of them into a portal or shoved out of the way of falling death. Too much stone, too much to move, I don't have that strength. I can only save myself if I let them die. In this moment, I am extremely aware of my limitations. Too slow, too weak, too limited.

  I have split-seconds to decide. I cross my fingers, and I do the unthinkable.