In the complete darkness, Len felt himself whiz through space. The buzz of cars faded, replaced by the light howling of wind from the outside, and he could even smell the blooming flowers from the roadside twelve stories below, with no sign of smoke or that noxious car exhaust.

The clusters of phosphenes floating and merging and splitting and forming new shapes. Squares and circles and stars, a lightning, a ring, Oliver, then suddenly they all moved—they gathered in a line and there it stayed, glowing in the empty. Len reached out to it, and as he neared, he felt power slowly pour around him, like a fluid of energy. Then he could see pure nothing, in bright light—and he felt warm, as though he were engulfed in a mystical fire.

He thought of Oliver again, how he wanted to be with him, then the stream surged and raged and before he could be overwhelmed, his eyes shot open and he shakily collapsed onto his bed, panting.

But the energy still lingered around him; a radiating glow that thinly shrouded him—his hands. He moved them and it seemed to follow; he tried to throw it but it seemed to dissipate only after a couple centimetres.

It turned him to a smile. He knew this was what Kiyoteru meant. He knew this was success. Perhaps he could now hold his ground against Oliver's brother. That would mean he could date Oliver again, and God did he want that.

With the warmth of satisfaction Len laid himself back on his bed, yawned, and with most of his worries melted for the night, he let himself slip adoze.

＊＊＊

Morning came and Len ran to his school with a lingering grin, in his heart a lowkey desire for a bit of praise. Frankly, he didn't expect to be able to complete that 'homework' Kiyoteru had given him. And to be able to pass it—

Maybe he could tell Oliver too, He'd be so happy, I hope.

I know I am.

First lesson was Biology, and for once, Len was half-an-hour early to class. He threw his bag onto the table and sat on the front row, where Oliver liked to sit, and where they had first met. He pulled his bag, took out a few common necessities, and deposited it under.

Of course, he didn't know what he'd do with the extra time, but he really wanted to tell him as soon as possible.

Fifteen minutes passed with Len fiddling and gazing out of the window. But then Oliver entered the classroom, and he could see his eye widen for an instant. Len took it that he didn't expect it, which he could honestly one-hundred-percent forgive.

"You're early," Oliver said, still trying to stay inconspicuous.

"Uh-huh," Len quickly answered, adding with a grin, "Wanted to tell you I did it."

"Did—" for a moment Oliver's mouth hanged open in a sort of disbelief, but he quickly concealed it, sitting beside Len and placing his bag on the desk. Then facing front, he whispered "That's great, have you told Mr Kiyoteru?"

Len wanted to shake his head but quickly decided against it, "Not yet."

"Alright." Oliver paused, as if in thought. "I'll come by later after school."

"Okay," Len tried to hide his grin.

But both couldn't help but to smile, just a little.

Soon the class filled up with the other students, and the teacher placed her pile of papers and laptop down on her table.

"Right, class," she said, and the buzz quieted down. "Next week, we will be dissecting the eye."

Len flinched at the mention of the organ, while half the class ooh'ed and ew'ed. Oliver was mostly unfazed. But Len couldn't bear of the thought of touching an eye, even looking at one detached from where-it-should-be, in a picture, was far enough grotesque. To think that in a week he'd be slicing one open. He shivered at the thought, and shook his head to rid of the repulsive mental image.

Yet someone decided it was right to ask, "What's next?"

"Getting excited are we?" the teacher mused, "After that will be the heart, but that will be a few months from now."

Len was still no less disgusted.

＊＊＊

Contrary to what Len had expected, the atmosphere in Kiyoteru's classroom that day was much more tense than usual. Len fidgeted as Oliver stood quietly, waiting for the teacher to say something.

Meanwhile Kiyoteru had his head in his hand, shaking them every other moment.

"So—" Len tried to break the ice.

"Oliver," He immediately said, "What's the situation with Yohio?"

Oliver answered, "He's still being really vigilant about this. He's been watching over me every day since that happened."

"Does he know Len's—?"

Oliver shook his head tentatively, "but I—Fukase might have gone into it. And we can't be sure if he's going to tell him or not."

Kiyoteru closed his eyes in thought. Len wanted to say something, but he really didn't know what to say. It's like one of those awkward moments when you want to join in a conversation, but you don't know enough of anything to talk about the topic.

"Len, Oliver," Kiyoteru said suddenly, "Pack your things. We're leaving on Friday."

"What!?"

"I know a safe place for you two," he told, "we're leaving on Friday first thing in the morning."

Len looked to Oliver, and he stared back at Len with a just-as-dumbstruck look.

Suddenly, Len began to question his teacher. He hadn't revealed anything about himself that would explain why he'd know magic, or Oliver, or Yohio, or even why he'd be willing to help Len. Instinctively he'd go with it, he had a feeling that things would work out well.

But if anything these past couple weeks have taught me. They aren't always right.

It was then he felt gentle fingers wrap around his hand. Oliver. "Len, what do you think?" he asked.

Len opened his mouth. But no answer.

"What do you feel?" Oliver asked again.

Feel?

Len felt his eyes water a little. It was times like this that made him think it was a mistake he was born boy. Not that he didn't like his body, he was perfectly fine with it. But the effect any emotion would have on him was so immense that he sometimes felt shameful. Even Oliver. Cute Oliver. Had been able to suppress them. So why can't he?

"Len," he voice was soft, and so empathetic. It was the first time he could feel even a shred Oliver's true emotions in his words. "Tell me what you feel."

"Go." Len answered, as short as possible in fear of breaking his voice in tears. He didn't even know why he was doing it. To preserve an image he didn't even have? Maybe it was to be more like Oliver. Or maybe it was his parents' lectures finally getting to him after all the years.

"Then we're going," Oliver said, looking to Kiyoteru for his reaction.

Kiyoteru nodded, "Don't bring too many things, or you'll attract attention, and try to bring only a few things each day."

Afterwards the two left separately, with Oliver leaving ten minutes earlier than Len. On his walk home Len wondered if it was right to go with his instinct. If they would soon regret it, then he would be entirely at fault for not thinking it through.

In that sense he idolised Oliver. Being able to hide his feelings, control them, think through every little detail and pick the best for every situation. He was much more of a man than him, and honestly, it stung, if only just a little.