— seize ; sixteen —

LOREN'S ROOM WAS DOWN the Red Hall, so for the first time during his stay at Castle Evermore, Henri got take a trip down the right wing of dormitories. It didn't appear to be any different, the same black walls and doors. Loren's room was four doors down and didn't appear to be any different from Henri's room, besides being slightly smaller. He soon realised that wasn't much of a problem when he saw the far side of Loren's room was untouched and empty. The bed was made and didn't look as if it had ever been slept in.

He looked at her in disbelief. "You get your own room?"

"Apparently so," she said. "There are only three women on the team, and the other two share a room. They didn't have a choice but to let me have my own room."

"That is so incredibly unfair," Henri said sullenly. "I'm stuck fighting for bathroom time and you get this place all to yourself."

Although, Henri wasn't sure why he was complaining when his rooming situation certainly reaped its own benefits. It had been insufferable to begin with, arguing with Soren over everything — keeping the room clean, who was allowed a shower and why Henri took such an ungodly time showering (he didn't, Soren was just finding excuses to hate him) and Henri's biggest pet peeve, the lamp. He couldn't sleep with any light but Soren insisted on keeping it on so he could read. Long fruitless bickering over it ended in Henri having to curl up under the covers to block the stupid lamp out.

Now it was a private place he could do whatever he wanted with Soren and no one would intrude. Whoever had thought to give the bedrooms locks had had the right idea.

Loren led him into her bathroom, which was considerably cleaner than his own, and motioned for him to take a seat on the edge of the bathtub. She rummaged around in her cabinet before removing a comb and scissors.

"Any particular look you're going for?"

"I'm not picky," Henri said, amused. "If I could pull off a Mohawk, I'd go for that. Guess I'll just settle for a trim to get the hair out of my eyes."

Loren smiled and stood in front of him, tipping his chin up so she could reach his hair easily. "For what it's worth, I think you'd look great with a Mohawk."

"Maybe next time, then."

Loren sprinkled water over his hair to make it damp and combed the curls down over his eyes. Henri went still as she brought the scissors up to his face, hovering a little too close to his eyes for his liking.

"How did you end up being Soren's hairdresser, anyway?" Henri asked, more to distract himself from the sharp object an inch away from his face than anything. "It doesn't sound like the best career to land."

Loren snipped at his hair. "I didn't exactly have a choice. My mum wouldn't give us money to pay for a haircut and she certainly wouldn't do it herself."

"Your mum?"

"Didn't Soren tell you?" Loren brushed some stray black strands into the sink. "We grew up with her."

"Soren doesn't speak to me unless strictly necessary, but yeah, I think he mentioned it," Henri said. "If she's your mum, then she must be his aunt. Why did he stay with you?"

Loren didn't reply and Henri glanced up at her through jagged pieces of hair, wondering whether he'd overstepped the boundaries. She didn't look angry but her green eyes, so similar to Soren's, were thoughtful as if considering what response to give. "I think that's his story to tell," she said finally.

Right. It would never be that easy when it came to Soren. Henri felt like he had to fight for every snippet of information and every secret about him. He changed the topic, knowing they were wandering into personal territory.

"How did your interrogation go with Aria and Alixis? They slam you into a locker too?"

"Girls don't fight with their fists, at least not as readily," Loren said, glancing down for a moment to meet Henri's gaze. He realised what she was looking at when she lightly touched the faint bruise along his cheekbone, courtesy of Jude. "It's all a mind game as far as they're concerned. They warned me that to stay here, I had to prove my worth and they'd be testing it. That I wouldn't get an easy ride because of Soren. As if I didn't know that."

"Having a relative probably makes them go harder on us. Maybe it feels too much like a free ride to them."

Loren went back to carefully combing through his hair. "Have you really never met Jean before?"

"Never."

"I'm sorry, Henri," she murmured. "That can't be easy."

Henri had to glance away at the sympathy in her voice. "Yeah, well. Whatever. Doesn't matter. I don't want to meet him."

"You don't?" She sounded astonished. "Why?"

"Too much of a burden," Henri said, not sure that made any sense even though it was the only way he knew how to explain it without going into any details. Such as the fact he would have to explain how and why their parents were dead. "It's easier just thinking of him as a stranger who shares my blood."

"That makes sense," Loren said quietly. "I think."

They fell into a silence as Loren finished with his hair, both of them wrapped up in their own thoughts. Henri knew coming face-to-face with Jean eventually would be inevitable. When the country learnt that he had an unknown brother, the public would be desperate for some kind of reunion, the same way they'd cheered on for one between Riko and Kevin. It didn't matter that with hindsight, it had been a somewhat messy affair. Even if it was just facing off on court on opposite teams, it would be enough to send the media on a field day.

"There." She set her scissors aside and studied the finished product with a pleased look. "All finished."

Henri brushed the freshly trimmed ends of his hair with his fingers, relieved to find he didn't have to constantly push his fringe out of the way now. He looked in the mirror above the sink when Loren motioned for him to see for himself and smiled at her, an actually genuine one. "Thank you," he said.

"No problem. It suits you, now that I can see your eyes better."

"I like to think so too," Henri said. "Now I can actually see."

It was bizarre not to have to return to the court in the afternoon and Henri felt a little jilted at the sudden hours of extra time he had. He killed some of it by grabbing a light lunch but it was only two in the afternoon when he finished. Jude was still out of sight when the two of them returned to the living area, so after a moment of hesitation Henri accepted Loren's invitation to hang around for a bit. For weeks, Henri had gone out of his way to avoid this part of the Nest except when he couldn't, because he wanted to avoid the other Ravens as much as possible. Now most of them had cleared out and he finally had a chance to make use of the huge plasma screen TV installed in here.

"Mission Impossible," Kit said, when Loren and Henri joined them on the sofas. He and Lucas were already partway through a movie but paused at their arrival. "I'd kill to be Tom Cruise."

"Really?" Lucas said. "I'd rather be The Rock."

"Nah, dude. Tom is way cooler than Dwayne Johnson. He would get way more girls."

"Tom," Henri snorted. "Are you two on first name basis, then?"

Kit grinned. "We will be. Once I'm a famous Exy player, he'll come to one of the Court games and we'll become best friends after I bag a gold medal."

"Sounds like something straight out of your gay fantasy," Henri said casually.

Kit chucked a cushion at Henri when Loren and Lucas laughed, but he was still grinning. As they settled into a comfortable conversation with the movie playing in the background, without a single mention of Exy, Henri realised how long it had been since he'd had the normalcy of just hanging out with friends. Henri wasn't sure he could call the three new Ravens his friends yet, but it was as close as anyone had come to it down here after Xander and Matthias. Henri wondered if all Ravens started out this way, fresh-faced and eager to be the best, only to slowly wilt under the poisonous corruption of this place.

Not Henri. He had already been defeated and bought off when he was shipped here.

Henri wasted the afternoon watching the entire Mission Impossible series, not entirely because of how interesting he found it but just because he could. Soren would nag at him about how unproductively he was spending his time but Henri couldn't bring himself to care. It was a reminder that Henri couldn't avoid Soren forever, and more importantly, he probably didn't want to be in the same room as Jude for the rest of the day. He slipped off the sofas as the final movie came to the end and Kit was trying to argue whether Ethan Hunt or James Bond was cooler.

Soren had his headphones plugged into his laptop and didn't so much as look at him when he entered. Henri stalled as long as possible, kicking off his shoes and taking advantage of the free bathroom to take a shower without Soren snapping at him to get out. As the water spilled over him, he imagined how much easier this whole thing would be if Soren wasn't so unpredictable. Some nights, they'd spend the hours leading into late night sharing each other's heat and others Soren would flick the light off without so much as a goodnight. Henri's own lack of control in whatever this was between them was beginning to feel more than a little frustrating.

Soren was still watching something on his laptop when he came out, no doubt an Exy match, and Henri stopped at the foot of his bed. "What did you talk to Jude about?" He knew Soren heard him from the way his eyes stilled on the screen but predictably, he didn't reply. Henri waited less than a second before continuing with an irritated, "Hey. Don't ignore me."

Soren looked up at that, the words Henri was throwing back in his face. He yanked out one of his headphones and glared at Henri. "Go away," he snapped.

"No," Henri scowled. "Not until you tell me what I want."

"And who says I give a shit what you want?" Soren's green gaze was so stony that Henri blinked. "Don't presume you hold any relevance to me, rookie."

Henri didn't think he was stupid enough believe he meant anything to Soren but he still felt a little caught off-guard by his glacial tone. Soren was treating him the way he had when Henri had first been sent here — less as a nuisance that could be tolerated and more as a problem that had be gotten rid of. Before Henri could think of a response to that, Soren turned his attention back to his laptop as if Henri didn't even exist. An indignant flare of anger sparked in his chest and Henri slammed his hand down on Soren's laptop, snapping it shut.

The look Soren shot him was deadly. "Do you want to get hit?"

"I want you to stop acting like an entitled asshole and I want an explanation."

Henri really thought he was about to get punched in the face, and a small twisted part of him wanted it — he wanted Soren to hit him so he could finally put to rest the confusion about his feelings. Instead, Soren took a deep breath and slowly pushed his laptop aside. "Let me make one thing clear," he said in a low, deadly voice. "Being forced into your presence does not mean I have to tell you anything. Don't ever try to stick your nose in my business again and don't think I care what happens to you. Even you can't be that stupid."

"Okay," Henri said, forcing his voice to remain steady. He would have rather Soren have punched him than sit there and say that to his face. "Fine. Guess what? Fuck you, Soren. Fuck you very much."

He left the room without a backwards glance, simmering with barely contained fury, but he didn't move any further down the hall. He could hear voices from the Nest, KJ's abrasive tone and Aria's snicker. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with any of them. He wanted to tell himself he was just pissed off at Soren's blatant dismissal but the emotion burning stronger beneath his temper was stronger and impossible to ignore — hurt. He'd let himself think there was something more; no, he'd felt something more, and secretly hoped that would be reciprocated.

"Stupid," Henri muttered in French, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "You're a stupid idiot."

They'd all said it and Soren himself had made it clear that hooking up with him was nothing more than a distraction. Henri was the one to blame for letting himself think there would ever be anything more than physical attraction. Maybe he was just a child, a naive sixteen year old who had never kissed the same person twice before he had come here and recklessly allowed feelings to develop. Well, not anymore. Soren had made it clear where they stood and Henri wanted nothing to do with him anymore. No kisses, no touching. Henri didn't even want to talk to him. Even if that was a lie he was telling himself, he could believe it soon enough. He had to.

At least before he ended up like Jude.

Henri snuck upstairs to the stadium and spent the rest of the evening on court, slamming heavy Exy balls down court in an attempt to work off the confusing mix of emotions running through his body. He lost track of time, running his body into sore exhaustion to distract himself from his thoughts, and his arms felt like spaghetti by the time he finally stepped off the court. It was late into the night when he finally returned to his bedroom and he made sure Soren was asleep before slipping inside.

— — — —

Henri woke up feeling like he was crashing through ice water, and thought for a moment he'd woken up from yet another nightmare before he realised it really was ice water. He sat up with a splutter just as someone dumped another bucket full of freezing cold water over his head, drenching his whole body and soaking through the bed. Henri instinctively shoved away from his body and caught someone in the shoulders, knocking them back with a grunt and a clatter of plastic on the floor. The cold was already sinking through his skin and settling into his bones.

"What the fuck?" Henri yelled.

The light flicked on and Henri blinked around the sudden brightness to see KJ standing at the foot of his bed. Matthias stood by the door with one hand on the light switch and the other ready to stop Henri if he tried to bolt. Henri already knew what this was about before KJ's next words.

"Morning, shrimp," KJ said with a smirk. "Welcome to your third trial."

Henri shoved soaking hair off his face. "Dumping water on me?" he scoffed, eyeing the buckets on the floor and his wet sheets. "That's your idea of a trial? Stop wasting my time."

Matthias laughed. "You wish that was the trial. This was just our fun way of waking you guys up."

"It was my idea," KJ said. "You're welcome."

Henri flipped him off and shoved his covers off the bed, where they lay in a soggy pile on the floor. There was a time when he would have argued and refused but he knew everything was considerably easier with the Ravens when he just played along with their games. It didn't matter that he'd come back to the bedroom after midnight or that he was sore all over from his solo practice — KJ would drag him out by his leg if he had to. Whatever this entailed, he might as well get it over with now.

"What time is it?" Henri asked.

"4AM," Soren's irritated voice answered. Henri glanced over to see he was sitting up and glaring around at all of them. "Is this going to be a frequent occurrence? Because it's becoming seriously inconvenient."

"Oh yeah," Henri said, in a withering tone. "Because you're the one being inconvenienced by this."

KJ grew bored of waiting and hauled Henri out of the bed. He shoved him towards the door, ignoring the colourful curses Henri directed towards him, and Henri knocked his arm away.

"Can I at least put a shirt on?"

"No," KJ retorted.

Matthias winked at him. "I'd rather you didn't."

"Bite me," Henri said flatly.

"Gladly."

In the living area, the other three had already already been corralled out of their room and rounded up. They were all just as wet as him, shivering in their pyjamas, and Lucas looked about two seconds away from shitting himself. Henri might have told him that they'd probably be fine and the upperclassmen couldn't actually do anything, not without incurring the Master's wrath for putting four Ravens out of commission, but Alixis wouldn't appreciate that. Her hazings were founded on fear and she wouldn't want Henri ruining that fun.

"Okay, kiddies." Aria clapped her hands. "Now we're all here, let's have some fun, hm? This is your first trial."

"Unless you're me," Henri muttered, dropping down on one of the sofas next to Loren. "Then it's your third."

Kit looked at him with wide eyes. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Henri narrowed his eyes at Alixis. "Why am I here? Haven't I passed enough of your stupid rituals?"

Jude scowled at him. "No. Shut the fuck up."

"In this trial, we'll be testing your Exy ability," Alixis said, and shot Henri an unimpressed look at his scornful snort. "No, shortarse, not just a basic scrimmage. There'll be a little something else thrown into the mix to make things more interesting."

Benjamin, who Henri hadn't even realised had left, re-emerged from the Black Hall dragging a large cooler behind him. Henri could guess where this trial was going when he popped open the lid and alcohol was nestled inside, bottles of cider and beer along with a large bottle of vodka. The sight of it dredged up his fuzzy memories of his last hazing.

"No one's stepping foot on that court until they're at least five shots in," Jude said, with a nasty look in Henri's direction. Henri could guess he would be getting more than that forced down his throat. "Then we'll be mixing things up. Christopher, ever played backliner before?"

Kit blinked. "Uh, no. Been a striker since Little Leagues."

"Great. Then that's your newly assigned position for tonight. Loren," Alixis said, ignoring Kit's startled expression, "we'll have you taking up Kit's place as striker and Lucas can become our newest dealer. That leaves Moreau Junior as goalkeeper."

Henri could tell they'd planned this in a way that would place each of them into a position that threw them most out of their depth. A striker never had a reason to play defensively, in the same way a goalkeeper was further from the offence line and would never be trained to take a shot. Lucas might be least at risk considering dealer were the most flexible players in the game, as they could take defence or offence, but Henri suspected he'd be forced to take an offensive position. And then Henri was stuck with possibly the most difficult position unless you were trained for it, goalkeeper. It was so different from all other positions you couldn't just switch to it halfway through training.

Matthias handed Henri his first shot and grinned at his baleful look. "Enjoy, cutie," he said. "Maybe we can get you drunk enough to finish off what we started last time."

"I've got tolerance now," Henri said, hoping that was true. "So it won't be that easy."

"We'll see, we'll see."

The others had their own shot ready and Henri could tell which of them had drunk before. Kit looked entirely unfazed by the drinking aspect of this challenge, gripping the shot glass with the ease of familiarity, whereas Loren sniffed her shot and grimaced at the vulgar scent. Lucas had turned pale as he stared down at the clear shot of vodka.

"Um, is this okay?" he said uncertainly. "My high school coach would never let us drink because of how it affects your body — "

"Can it," KJ said impatiently. "I don't give a shit about whatever your high school coach thinks. If you don't want to drink? I'll be glad to funnel the shit down your throat. Still got a problem?"

Lucas shook his head fervently.

"Alright then." Aria clicked her fingers impatiently. "Lets get started. Three...two...one...drink!"

Henri tipped his head as he knocked the shot back and the bitter vodka burnt it's path down the back of his throat, already kicking into effect.