The Fight

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?!"

They both turned at the direction of the voice. It came from a green-haired girl with a bob cut which reached her shoulders. She was holding several papers in one hand that was clipped together on one side.

"Stefina."

"Unbelievable, you two." She stomped towards them, her small built was nothing like the power she had. "How could you fight so near to the Headmaster's office?!"

Remy stepped back and Malcolm climbed to his feet. "I thought you're still out on your mission."

"Shut up, Malcolm." She jabbed a finger at him. "You. Have you learned nothing from when we were trainees together? Have you ever, for once, use your brain and not your muscles? Or are you that daft, huh?"

Malcolm's jaw dropped. Remy snickered behind him and Stefina turned towards him, eyes equally furious.

"You too, Remy." She placed her hands on her hips and stomped until she was right in front of him. "I know you have a fucking brain."

Remy stepped around her. "I have things to do. I will see you later."

Her hand shot out to grab his arm. "Oh no, you don't. Don't you fucking dare walk away after creating a ruckus."

Remy turned towards her. He could yank his arm free, but he didn't. "Stefina, please."

"I'm amazed that Headmaster didn't just put you two in detention."

Remy rolled his eyes and Stefina stomped his feet. He winced as the pain spread on his feet.

"Stefina-"

She ignored him and looked at Malcolm. "I suggest you go do some work. Actual work, instead of secretly trying to go off and find leads about Carcarem."

Malcolm gulped. "How..."

"You're fucking stupid if you think you're secretive, Malcolm. Go before I report you to our team leader." Stefina glared at him. She wasn't tall and her dyed green hair made her look cute, plus her face was soft, without any sharp edges, but when she was glaring, it was like she had become a completely different person. The tales that parents tell their children of dragons kidnapping princesses and the knight who slain it to rescue the princesses, Stefina fit in it. But the thing was, she fit with all the characters.

She was the princess when she was happy, spreading smiles and telling jokes to make others laugh. She was a knight on the field, on their missions, strong and clever and just the right amount of cunning. But she was most terrifying when she was pissed, like now. Her gaze didn't only bore a hole in your head, it was as if she was trying to set you ablaze with only her eyes, like you're one of those side characters whose only purpose was to annoy the dragon in the story and die afterwards.

Perhaps, Malcolm was exaggerating. But that was honestly how he felt about Stefina. She was cute and beautiful and had the happy-go-lucky label on her, she was immensely brave and extremely smart, but she could also be ruthless and unforgiving.

Malcolm wasn't going to play with the dragon, he was going to run the hell away. That wouldn't be bravery, just pure stupidity. So he gave a miniscule nod and hastily made his way down the hall.

After his partner turned down the hallway and disappeared from both their sights, Remy spoke up. "So are you ever going to let me go? And stop doing that."

"Hm?" Stefina hummed innocently as she continued to move her ankle so that the heel of her boot was digging into Remy's foot.

He yanked his arm and stepped away from his childhood friend. His left feet felt like fire and nothing else. He knew that he would be limping to get back to his table. "Where's Meline?"

"You're not going to change the subject." She crossed her arms. "I'm disappointed, Remy. You beat me in everything and yet you're not using your gifts the proper way."

"Don't you have to submit your report?"

She squinted her eyes at him. "Are you telling me to fuck off?"

"I'm just asking." He sighed. "Also, you need to tone down on the fucks."

"Don't try to lecture me like my mother."

"Then don't lecture me."

She let her hands fall to her side. "I do what I want, when I want. Also, I'll be going to your house tonight."

Remy groaned. "What for?"

Stefina smiled at his annoyance-filled face. "To bother you, obviously."

He sighed and turned away. "I'm going to my office."

"You mean 'our'."

"Whatever." He waved a hand dismissively. "Go ahead and submit your report."

The door to the Headmaster's office opened just then.

"Oh, what perfect timing." Stefina smiled and walked in.

Back at his table, Malcolm wasn't sure what to do. Remy had submitted the report, so there wasn't really anything for him to do except wait for the next mission assigned to them. He was sitting on his chair, staring at Remy's desk beside his own. He wondered if the black-haired male was withholding any information from him.

He wouldn't be surprised if he did.

Asshole.

Malcolm was in the middle of thinking about going through his partner's desk when the door opened and Remy stepped in. Malcolm's eyebrows instinctively turned into a frown and he looked away from the door - which meant that he wouldn't be looking at his desk anymore.

Remy closed the door quietly and crossed the room in silent footsteps to get to his desk. He gave Malcolm a glance, but chose not to say anything and sat down. Taking out a folder from his pile and a notebook, he began jotting down notes.

For minutes, that was the only sound in the room: the ticking of the clock and the scribbling of pen against paper.

Until Malcolm couldn't hold back anymore.

He finally turned to Remy. "What did they say?"

"What?" He answered without looking up; his pen was still moving.

Malcolm sighed loudly. He knew that Remy knew exactly what he meant, and the fact that the other had blatantly refused to tell him annoyed him. Immensely. "Do you have to be difficult at all times?"

"Not sure what you mean."

He sighed again. "After you fucking punched me, you went with them, right?"

Remy didn't answer, but his pen stopped.

"That's how you knew about the meeting. What else did they tell you?"

The scribbling resumed. "Nothing else. I have told the Headmaster everything."

"Don't you think I deserve to know?"

"You're right."

"So?" He pressed on, finding himself leaning towards the other.

Remy didn't bat an eyelash. "You can read the report once it's handed back to us."

Malcolm groaned and fell back on his chair.

"It shouldn't take too long. Probably a day or two. After all, there aren't many new recruits in our division."

Malcolm turned his eyes at the empty office room. "I suppose."

There used to be the total of hundreds of new recruits each year, tens for each division. Nearly all of the Elementals - those who could control one of the four elements - had enrolled into Schole. It was a great honor to be accepted, even more so when they graduate and joined one of the five divisions, especially the division Malcolm, Remy, Stefina, and Meline were in: the Warriors. There were actually six divisions, but the highest one, the Council, required a certain amount of contribution and experience for one to be accepted.

The second most praised division were the Warriors. Like its name, the Warriors were the soldiers of Schole, which meant that the most talented, the ones most capable of controlling their element and keeping their calm under pressure were the ones who get accepted. There used to be many who aimed for this position even though it meant that they would be sent off to missions more dangerous than the other divisions and get their hands dirty.

Now, after Carcarem was found, the scale had started to tip.

After graduating the academy, many of their peers had opted for the other four divisions that they could enter: Medic, Administrative, Relations, or Development - which meant that they would be staying in the academy as teachers for the younger Elementals.

His chair creaked as the brown-haired male lifted a leg over the other. "I never thought only the four of us would sign up for the Warrior division in our year..."

"There aren't exactly a lot of Elementals now to begin with."

Malcolm's lips were a line. He knew what Remy meant.

Most of the Elementals now have chosen to marry a Normal, a human without any powers, in order to weaken the bloodline of the Elementals, though it would take ages to fully get rid of the genes which carried the gift. Elementals' blood were very powerful. They had to choose a side: either with Schole or Carcarem, and most didn't want to choose. Others who didn't choose to marry a Normal chose to hide their powers instead.

"I don't understand." The male leaned back on his chair to look up at the ceiling.

Remy let out a sigh and shook his head.

Malcolm continued on, "What's so wrong with being an Elemental?" There was bitterness in his tone, "We're just humans that can do something different."

"It's not about being one." Remy closed his notebook. "It's about choosing sides."

Deep down, Malcolm already knew the answer, even before Remy had said it. He knew all about choosing sides, of having to separate from others in order to chase after his dreams and to be able to continue believing in what he wanted to believe.

"Carcarem only appeared recently..."

Remy finally turned towards his partner, raising his eyebrows. "What do you mean? It's been around for years."

"No, but," he frowned at the ceiling, "the name itself only appeared a couple years back..."

He shook his head and stood up, heading over to the door. "Go and be melancholic alone, Cinzento. I don't need my day ruined yet."

"Asshole."

Remy rolled his eyes and walked out of the room.

Malcolm opened his eyes. He looked at the only door in the room, which Remy had just closed seconds prior. He was still pissed at him and would still very much like to continue their fight, but Stefina was right.

What the hell were they doing?

"Control yourself, Malcolm." That was what their teacher used to say. "Control your emotions."

He tried, he really did.

But for so long he had worn his heart on his sleeve, to allow his heart win over rational thoughts. He had never liked putting on a mask in order to fit in. In his childhood, this had been his greatest trait. Especially, for his late mother.

"In a world full of so much thinking and lies and calculations, you remain pure, Malcolm. Unchangeable. You have the courage to show the world who you are, what you can become. It's refreshing. However..."

That was what his mother had said, so he tried to stay that way in order to please her. Showing rather than talking, laughing when he found something funny and crying when he was sad. Malcolm was a child loved by his family and neighbors alike, for he was always willing to help, always tried his best for others, all while remaining honest.

Malcolm Cinzento had never lied in his lifetime.

Except once.

Because his mother had pleaded him to do it.

A lie which had turned to worse when the truth was found out. A lie which had cost him everything. A lie which forced him to choose sides.

A lie which changed him.

"Are you still being melancholic?" Remy's voice came from the doorway, and he looked up.

"If you're looking for another fight," Malcolm scowled, "I'm not in the mood for it anymore."

"Scared you'll lose?"

"Fuck off."

Remy exhaled and made his way back to his desk. "Instead of moping around for no apparent reason, how about you do some work?"

"Like what?" Malcolm spun in his chair to look at him. "You already did everything."

The black-haired male grabbed a folder and dumped it on Malcolm's desk. "Make yourself useful and help me connect the dots."

He picked up the folder. "The dots?"

Remy sighed again and sank to his chair. Malcolm frowned at him. He was making him feel like a child again.

His cheek stung when he snarled at his partner, but he didn't show it. "I know what it means, you asshole."

"Can't you come up with a better insult?"

Malcolm tore his eyes away from his partner and flipped open the folder. "You're not worth my better insults."

Remy rolled his eyes again.

Malcolm didn't have to look to know. "How am I supposed to connect the dots when you haven't given me any information."

Remy shrugged.

"You're a fucking-"

"-asshole, I know." Remy completed his sentence for him. "You don't really need the newest information. I've worked on it."

Malcolm's fists slammed down on the table and Remy flinched. "We're supposed to be goddamn partners, Remy!"

The black-haired male frowned at him but didn't say anything.

"Doesn't it matter to you that Carcarem is turning things to crap?! Don't you care about others at all aside from yourself, you narcissistic asshole?!" He was standing now, looking down at the other. His fists were by his sides, clenched until his knuckles turned white. Malcolm was shaking from the anger and his teeth were gritted together. His wounds meant nothing now. "You make all this bullshit about working when in truth, you are the one who didn't do anything that mattered."

Remy stood up too. "Listen, Cinzento." He jabbed a finger at Malcolm's shoulder. "I fucking care too, and I actually do work even though you think otherwise. You know why I don't like you?"

"We're not supposed to bring in personal feelings, Rouge." He seethed.

"Speak for yourself," Remy retorted with spite, "Ever since we enrolled into the Warrior division, who was it who kept nearly exposing our disguise? Who was it who could never keep his calm? Just this morning, who was it who almost made us lost our lead?"

His finger was digging into Malcolm's shoulder and his words stung the brunette like knives. It was the truth. He gritted his teeth but failed to find it in himself to look into Remy's eyes.

When no reply came, Remy stepped back. "That's what I thought." He sat back in his chair and turned towards his table. "Get to work and shut up."

Malcolm knew that he was shaking; his vision was turning red with Remy in the center of it all. He wanted to tackle him, to yell at him, to get all of this fire inside of him, out.

Instead, he picked up the folder and stormed out of the room, stomping.

Remy watched him until the door slammed shut loudly behind Malcolm.

"This is why you're not supposed to be here." Remy muttered to the empty room. "You feel too much."