Word count: 3820

"𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐖 February, so I expect that you understand how hard you should be working," said Reginald, his black journal firmly clutched in hand. "Now, we shall work on invisibility. Do you understand, Number Eight?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened, something she found happening quite often whenever she was told a new ability that she possessed. "I can become invisible?"

"Yes. Your power of energy manipulation allows you to do such. As with most of your other powers, you must simply feel the energy within you and will yourself to become invisible," he explained simply. "Now, make your attempt."

She nodded. "All right."

She closed her eyes and tried to do as he said, but nothing happened. She peeked her eyes open, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to think, but her brain was coming up with nothing.

Finally, she confessed, "I don't know how to."

Reginald scoffed. "You would think that you would use some of your intelligence for once, Number Eight."

Elizabeth held back her tears. This was an insult he used often, and it never failed to make her feel terrible.

He paid no mind to her sudden change of emotion as he straightened up and demanded, "Try again."

Feeling the energy course through her veins once more, Elizabeth instructed herself to camouflage with the room around her, and soon, she becomes unnoticeable to the human eye. She became visible once more after Reginald gave her a nod of approval.

Elizabeth thanked whatever God existed for letting her be able to perform the technique.

"Good work at last. I must say, I wish you had come along with the other children, you prove to be far more powerful than most—if not all—although, you still could use some work. Nonetheless, some are completely useless in comparison to you. You should be Number One, rather than Eight." Reginald had a twinkle in his eye as he examined her face. "That will be all for today, Number Eight."

—☾—

"I still don't get the Sagatora thing," Five sighed as he laid back on Elizabeth's bed, ruffling a hand through his hair.

Everyone was gathered in Elizabeth's room, preparing for the history test on the Civil War that would be taking place the next day. Elizabeth, Five, and Allison were situated on her bed, Klaus had taken her desk chair, and the others were sitting cross-legged on the ground.

"Sagatora?" Elizabeth repeated with confusion, her eyebrows knitting together tightly as she tried to decode the word. She suddenly realized what he had meant and rolled her eyes. "You mean Saratoga?"

"Sure." Five shrugged, giving a small wave of dismissal.

"Yeah, I don't remember much about it, either." Luther nodded in agreement, a small frown coming upon his face as he looked down at his notebook and scanned over his notes. "I zoned out while Pogo was halfway through the lesson."

"Luther!" Allison scolded, disapproval laced into her voice as she leaned over and slapped his arm.

"It was a two-hour lecture on one battle!" Luther defended himself, letting go of his notebook and raising his hands in defence.

Ben nodded with a small sigh. "I don't remember a single thing. And he told us this stuff, like, ten years ago!"

"We learned about Saratoga three days ago, Bennie," Klaus giggled, shaking his head before he turned to Elizabeth and gave her a shrug. "But he's got a point. I don't remember jack-shit."

"You've already mm-me-memorized everything, nerd, so tell us." Diego nodded towards Elizabeth, a grin settled on his lips.

She scoffed. "First of all, I am not a nerd. And, second, how do you know I've memorized it? Maybe I haven't."

"You memorize everything after reading it once, plus you learn things in a second," Vanya pointed out with a small smile as she picked her notebook up from the ground. "Your IQ is, like, four trillion."

"For once in her life, V-Va-Vanya makes a good point." Diego nodded as he opened his notebook to a blank page, giving a lift of his shoulders to accompany. "So, tell us about Sar-Saratoga, Goldie."

"First of all, Vanya has made many good points. Like that one time, she said broccoli was gross. That was a fantastic point." Elizabeth sighed before she admitted defeat, "Okay, fine, listen up, gals and pals. Got your pencils ready?"

Klaus immediately took his pencil out of his mouth and nodded eagerly as the others picked up their own.

Elizabeth began, "So, British strategy in 1777 involved two main ways of attack in order to separate New England—where the rebellion had the most popular support—from the other colonies. To that end, General John Burgoyne's army marched south from Canada toward a planned meeting with Howe's forces on the Hudson River. Burgoyne's men dealt a devastating loss to the Americans in July by retaking Fort Ticonderoga, while Howe decided to move his troops towards the south from New York to face Washington's army near the Chesapeake Bay.

"The British conquered the Americans at Brandywine Creek, Pennsylvania, on September 11th and entered Philadelphia on September 25th. Washington then struck Germantown in early October before retracting to winter quarters near Valley Forge."

"Wait, when did they enter Philadelphia?" Ben cut in before she could continue, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at his notes.

"The 25th of September," she answered before he gave a nod of understanding and scrawled it down.

She continued, "Howe's move had left Burgoyne's army exposed near Saratoga, New York, and the British underwent the consequences of this on September 19th, when an American force under General Horatio Gates defeated them at Freeman's Farm in the first Battle of Saratoga. After suffering another defeat on October 7th at Bemis Heights—the Second Battle of Saratoga, Burgoyne surrendered the rest of his forces on October 17th. 

"The American victory Saratoga would prove to be a turning point of the American Revolution, as it urged France—which had been secretly aiding the rebels since 1776—to enter the war openly on the American side, though it would not officially declare war on Great Britain until June of 1778. The American Revolution, which had started as a civil dispute between Britain and its colonies, had then become a world war."

After a few minutes of scratching pencils and rubbing erasers, everyone finished writing the notes down.

Allison examined her writing once more before looking back up at her, her eyebrows furrowed. "How do you even remember all this stuff, Ellie?"

"I don't know," she answered as she gave a lift of her shoulders. "I just read the textbook, and then remember it. Anyway, do you guys understand? Do I need to go over anything?"

Five waved a dismissive hand through the air as he reassured, "No, I'm all good with Rasagota."

Elizabeth stared at him in exasperation; she knew he was enjoying this. "Saratoga."

"Yeah, that's what I said." Five nodded with the big grin she was used to. "Tarasoga."

"Saratoga."

"Mhm, Garatosa."

"Oh my God," Elizabeth sighed as she leaned back in the chair, rubbing her forehead. "Ben, you get it?"

"Yeah, I understand." Ben nodded. "Saratoga" —he raised his eyebrows at Five— "isn't as complicated as I thought."

"Not complicated?" Klaus echoed with a scoff. "It's barely comprehensible!"

"Need me to make it easier?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Yes, please." Klaus grinned.

"Oh my God, yes." Diego nodded furiously.

She nodded, thinking for a moment before stating, "The Battle of Saratoga is considered the turning point of the American Revolution. The battle was fought in late 1777. It was split into two battles: the Battle of Freeman's Farm and the Battle of Bemis Heights. The Americans were led by General Horatio Gates. The British were led by General John Burgoyne. On October 17th, Burgoyne surrendered his army of nearly six thousand British soldiers. The American victory helped convince France to come to the aid of America. Oh no, it's now a world war."

Klaus processed her words for a moment before giving a large nod, a dramatic smile on his face. "Yes! Thank you, Queen Elizabeth, you've saved my life from a life full of suffering!"

"Speaking of suffering," Five grumbled as he got up from his spot, his eyes glancing over to the clock before sighing, "we have to go downstairs now."

"For what?" Vanya questioned, her eyebrows furrowing as she followed the others in closing her notebook.

"The tattoos, remember?" Luther reminded before a smug smirk crept onto his lips. "Although, I guess you aren't getting one . . . you're not like us."

Reginald had informed them the day before that they would be getting the logo of the Umbrella Academy tattooed onto their wrist, as a symbol of unity and a representation of where they came from. Of course, all of the students were more than nervous about this—it wasn't usual for fourteen-year-olds to get tattoos. And, quite obviously, they weren't particularly fans of being in pain.

"Oh," Vanya mumbled with a small frown as her gaze lowered to the ground, "right."

"First of all, Luther, terrible word choice." Elizabeth shook her head, sending him a glare that wiped the smirk off of his face. She got up and crouched next to Vanya, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth as she whispered into Vanya's ear, "Don't listen to them, they're stupid. You're not one of them, because you're not stupid. Got it?"

Vanya let out a soft giggle, the crease in her forehead lessening as she nodded. "Got it."

"Good." She got up, ignoring the questioning looks on everyone else's faces. "Anyway, we should get going." She nodded as the others got up, beckoning for them to follow her as she instructed, "Leave your blazers in here."

After taking off their blazers so that there was no fabric to cover their wrists, the seven of them headed into the main foyer, where seven chairs awaited them. 

Reginald and Grace were already waiting there as they arrived, and their mother offered them a kind smile that only slightly reassured their escalating nerves.

A bald tattoo artist, who wore a leather vest and had vivid tattoos that adorned his arms, sat on top of a stool, his supplies on one side of him while a chair with an overhanging light rested on the other. 

He glanced over at them as they walked in, and it was quite obvious that he, too, was questioning why children of such young age were getting tattooed. And, like the others, he was also probably far too intimidated by the wiry man in front of him to ask why.

"Now, children, take a seat," Reginald ordered, gesturing towards the empty, yellow-cushioned chairs. "One by one, you will get your brand. Try to restrain yourself. If your training has paid off so far, you should be more than capable to endure this minuscule amount of pain without any tears. Number Four" —he directed his attention to Klaus, who then cursed under his breath— "you will be going first."

Reluctantly, the children all took their seats. Elizabeth sat between Diego and Five, nervously playing with her fingers as Klaus sat down on the chair next to the tattoo artist.

She winced as the drilling sound of the needle began to fill the air a few minutes later. Klaus was trying to keep his tears in, but it was more than evident that the process was extremely painful.

Although they tried to distract themselves in various ways, all six children found themselves unable to take their eyes off of the process, and their nerves only intensified.

After about ten minutes, Klaus was finished, and Allison was called to go next.

She was less stubborn than Klaus was, allowing tears to slip down her cheeks as the artist drew on her left wrist. 

Elizabeth could see Luther tensing from a few seats over, his eyes trained on Allison's tear-stained face as his fingers curled up tightly.

Another ten minutes, and she was done. She walked over to Klaus, who consoled her with an arm around her shoulder as he himself cried.

Tough Man Diego didn't allow a single tear to even shine in his brown eyes, but he closed them not too long later. He let out soft whimpers of pain as the tattoo artist worked, and his right leg twitched every so often.

Grace reached out to hold his hand, but he recoiled, clearly wanting to keep his Tough Man look as he slightly shook his head. 

Elizabeth winced with every grunt Diego made, out of both fear for the boy and herself.

Another ten minutes, and it was Elizabeth's turn. Five gave her a comforting smile that didn't seem too confident in itself as she got up, and she found her lips suddenly becoming paralyzed as she tried to return the smile.

She tentatively walked up to the chair and sat down in it, taking a deep breath as she tried to calm her heightened nerves. She swallowed nervously as the man began to clean her wrist, preparing it for the tattoo, and she found herself unable to look away as he grabbed the tattoo gun.

Tears immediately pricked her eyes as soon as the tattoo artist brought the hot needle to her skin. It felt as though a cat was scratching her in the same area over and over, forcing an already deep cut to grow deeper and deeper. She had no idea how Diego was able to not cry, although it was probably through the sheer will that she did not have.

Elizabeth used her right hand to grip the arm of the chair, but it didn't make anything any better. Trying to hold her tears in, she bit her lip, feeling her energy rush through her in search of what was wrong. 

Small, gold sparks began to fly out from the fingertips of her right hand as her eyes began to flash a glow of yellow on and off, immediately concerning Reginald.

"Control yourself, Number Eight," he warned quietly, his eyes set on her own.

She could only whimper in response, the pain not allowing her to speak. Her knuckles were turning white from the amount of strength she was using to grip the chair, but still, her eyes were growing a stronger gold with each second.

With a small frown, Grace stepped forward and rested a consoling hand on Elizabeth's arm, but it didn't seem to relieve her from the pain any further.

Seeming to be agitated seeing how distressed she was, Five leaned forward in his seat and whispered reassuringly, "Elle, it's okay. Look at me."

Reginald clearly wasn't pleased with Five speaking when he was supposed to be silent but didn't reprimand him as she was soothed while looking at Five. 

The glow in her eyes was fading, and her soft cries were quieting as he nodded encouragingly and gave her a smile that didn't appear on him too often.

As soon as she was finished, she immediately got out of the chair and joined the other children who were already finished.

Diego comforted her, wrapping his right arm around her shoulder as she cried. His cheeks were dry, but the stone-cold look on his face told her that it was only because he didn't allow himself to shed any tears. 

He pulled her closer to him, gently caressing her arm, and she pressed against the side of his body as she sought consolation.

"A-ar-are you o-okay?" he murmured softly to her, his own pain evident in his stutters.

Elizabeth hummed a small reassurance in response, still not sure if she could say a word without bursting into tears. 

The skin that surrounded the tattoo was now a violent shade of red, swelling slightly from the needle, and she was sure that it would look that way for a little while. It seemed as though even the mere sight of it caused her more pain, so she kept her eyes on anything but.

Five was done after yet another ten minutes, him only having let out a few grunts and sharp inhales of pain during the procedure.

He walked over to Elizabeth as Luther's turn arose, pushing a disgruntled Diego's arm off of her as he put his right hand on her shoulder. He peered towards her, his eyes worriedly searching her face as his hand's grip tightened on her.

"You okay?" Five asked quietly. 

"I'm fine," she whispered, glancing past him to make sure that Reginald, who was watching as Ben got his tattoo, didn't see them talking. Her words were only half-true; while it still hurt pretty bad, the pain was lessening by the second.

Five swallowed, also clearly in agony. "It'll only hurt for a little bit longer," he said, seeming to be reassuring both himself and Elizabeth. "Probably."

She gave a quick nod as she muttered, "I know."

Five, noticing something, then used his index finger to lift her chin up so her eyes met his. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he leaned in closer to get a better look, his baffled expression worrying her. "Your eyes."

His statement slightly startled her; what could possibly be wrong with her eyes right now? "What about them?"

"They're glowing," he answered, his eyes peering intently into hers.

"Goldie," Diego spoke gently from beside her, his eyebrows knit together tightly as he stared down at her wrist. "Look."

"Wha—" Elizabeth raised her wrist to see that the redness was fading and the swollenness was decreasing. Streaks of gold that matched the colour of her energy were flickering from underneath her skin, seeming to be the cause of healing. "Oh. Hm."

"What's happening?" Five whispered, his eyes wide as he stared at her wrist, seemingly entranced by the streaks.

She pursed her lips for a moment before muttering, "I think I have an idea."

After Reginald dismissed them, telling them to get back to their studies, Elizabeth gestured for Five and Diego to follow her back into her room. 

She noticed that others seemed to be heading back to their own rooms, and she rolled her eyes; they had left all of their studying stuff and their blazers in her room. She would have to return those later if they didn't come to collect them themselves.

"What's your idea?" Five asked curiously as she shut the door behind them, clearly using this as a distraction from the lingering pain as he unconsciously ran a gentle finger over his tattoo.

"Uh . . . Diego, do you have a knife on you?" Elizabeth questioned as she turned to face him, her eyes roaming the pockets of his blazer for the imprint of a weapon.

A wicked smile came onto his face as he took his favourite knife out of his pocket, the sharp, silver edge glimmering in the light as he lifted it up for her to see. "I always do. Why?"

"Use it to cut me," she directed as she took a step towards him and raised her right arm towards him, exposing her forearm to him. "Nice and deep. Don't worry about it hurting me, just do it."

His smile dropped as he and Five gave her incredulous looks.

"What? No!" Diego immediately refused, shoving the knife back into his pocket and taking a step away from her as he furiously shook his head.

"Oh, come on, do it!" Elizabeth insisted, taking another step towards him with her arm still outstretched. She gave him a reassuring smile, but it seemed to have no effect as he shook his head once more.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?!" Five questioned in disbelief, shaking his head as he walked towards her. He pushed her arm down, forcing it to fall back to her side before he folded his arms. "No one's cutting you."

She groaned, running a hand through her dark hair as she irritatedly muttered to herself, "Jesus, I have to do everything myself."

"W-what do you—hey!" Diego exclaimed as she swiftly reached into his pocket and snatched the knife out, moving too quickly for Diego to take the knife back. "Give it back!"

Five furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes wide with his mouth agape. "What are you—don't do that!"

Ignoring the two boys' pleas for her to stop, Elizabeth pressed the sharp tip of the knife against her right forearm, and a line of blood trailed as she carefully dragged it across. Her face scrunched in pain and she let out a small groan as the knife plunged into her are; the pain was much, much worse than the tattoo.

The two boys watched in horror, not knowing what to do; they couldn't take the knife from her without risking the chance of accidentally hurting her further.

"Hey, dumbass, don't do stupid stuff like that." Five grabbed a tissue from the purple tissue box on her desk and gently wiped away the blood that was beginning to drip down her arm once she was finished. "What kind of stupid idea was that?"

"One that works. Look." A grin spread onto her face as the glow of gold appeared, seeming to stretch and heal her skin until the cut was completely gone. "Just what I thought: self-healing."

"That was a bad deci—decision." Diego shook his head, his eyes still set on where the cut had just been. "Y-you could've gotten rea-really hurt."

"Oh, come on, it's just a cut." Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she took another tissue from her desk and wiped the slight bit of blood off of the tip of the knife before holding it out towards Diego. "Even if it didn't work, I wouldn't have died or something. Although, I wonder if it would still work if I got stabbed . . . I think it would work just fine . . ."

"I-I'm not stabbing you, and you-you're not stabbing yourself either," Diego immediately said as he quickly seized the knife from her and pocketed it, keeping his hand inside his pocket as he gripped and protected the weapon from her. "No one is stabbing you."

"I wasn't going to ask you to, it was just hypothetical," she reassured him with a small giggle before raising her eyebrows. "Unless you want—"

"No!"

"I guess that's pretty useful, though." Five shrugged as he took the blazer that he had left on her bed and slipped it back on, straightening the bottom as he looked over towards her.

Elizabeth nodded, a grin coming onto her face. "Now you guys can beat me up during training without worrying about killing me."

"Wait—how did you not di-dis-discover this healing thing before?" Diego spoke out, his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes moved away from her arm and to her face. "You've been doing all the combat and stuff during training with us for the last fi-five months."

Elizabeth thought for a moment before giving a small shrug. "I mean, I've never really gotten hurt."

"Yeah, she kicks my ass every time we partner up," Five admitted grudgingly, scrunching his nose as she sent him a wink. He looked towards the other boy and suggestively raised his eyebrows. "Unless you've ever hurt her, Diego?"

Diego stared back at him for a moment before he shook his head and muttered, "I haven't."

Elizabeth grinned as she slapped one hand against Diego's shoulder. "Well, now you can stab—"

"I'm not stabbing you!"

She scrunched her face. "Fine. Don't stab me. Jeez, what kind of friend are you?"