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Chapter Text

As the winged envelope chased him through the office, using its gaping maw to snap at his head and spit fire balls at his face, Toris couldn’t help but scream.

“What did I do to deserve this?!”

The thing was spitting foam and guts out of its fanged mouth. Instinctively, he reached into his right pocket for his wand, but it was empty — as it had been for the last year.

It was completely ridiculous. He wasn’t supposed to even need to carry a wand at this job. His former coach had promised him a desk job where he could interact with magic without having to use it. And it had been that way in the beginning. For a solid two weeks, Toris had checked into the glass building, given his daily morning report to Jones, and sat down for the rest of the day to catalogue magical incidents. It was the best possible job for someone like him, who couldn’t do much of any magic anymore. But then, on the third Monday of his new job, the first letter came in—

And everything became a disaster.

Smoke rose from the burning papers on Toris’s desk. Vargas and Williams had trampled over their cubicles in their rush to get out, and Toris had to jump over their broken chairs to sprint to the door at the front of the room. The letter was so close that he could feel its hot breath on the nape of his neck.

“Go away! I’m not the person you’re looking for!” he yelled. But his high, panicked voice only made the letter flap faster. Toris had dealt with cursed letters before, but this one was particularly vicious. It wouldn’t stop until it had torn Toris limb from limb.

“Laurinaitis! Stand back!”

Toris turned to the front. Jones shuddered in the doorway. With a flourish, he unsheathed his wand and aimed it at the letter. The tip of the wand glowed pale red with charging fire magic.

Toris’s eyes widened.

“No! It feeds on fire!”

“What?! Shit!” Jones yelled.

He jerked his wand back to try to withdraw the magic. But it was too late. The glowing light pulsated and burst forward — and a stream of white-hot fire magic barreled towards Toris’s face.

Behind him, the letter screeched in delight. It flew ahead of him and opened its maw wide to ingest the flame magic. It was impossible for Jones to cast another spell now. Ingesting the fire magic would give the letter the power to blow up the whole building if it wanted. If Toris still could, he would have thrown up one of his shields. But he had no other choice. He sucked in a deep breath.

And then he yanked the letter back, pressed its fanged mouth to his ass, and ducked – just in time  to barrel under the blazing stream of Jones’s fire magic.

The magic exploded into the wall, sending bricks and plaster flying everywhere.

On the floor, Toris coughed violently. Just like old times.

As expected, the letter had also bit into his ass – hard.

“Agh!” he hissed. 

It was terrible, but not the worst pain he’d ever felt – what was worse was the ringing in his ears and the bruising on his arms from sliding on the carpet. But at least he could feel everything, which meant that he was alive. Toris propped himself up on his side. With his left hand, he wrenched the letter off his ass, held it up, and gripped it by its writhing wings so it couldn’t move.

“Look, you — agh! Look!” Gods, these magical objects were stubborn! Even while incapacitated, the letter screeched and spat small fireballs at his shirt. Toris was so exasperated that he just gripped it tighter. “Listen! I’m not him! I’m not the person you’re looking for! That’s not his blood, see?! Go on! Taste it!”

The letter’s forked tongue slopped some of his blood into its mouth. It paused to swallow.

“See? I’m not him. So leave me alone. Go home!”

The letter shuddered.

Then, with a gag, it vomited blood and mouse guts and charred paper scraps all over Toris’s hands.

Agh.

Toris had just accepted that there were animal guts all over his formerly clean hands when the letter moved again. It chirped happily… then nestled right into the curve of his hand.

In one go, he’d lost blood, flesh, and new pants… to a fanged letter that was now mewing into his skin like a housecat.

Toris groaned. He slumped against the floor.

Always something new at this job.

“You have to go home now,” Toris pleaded, but the letter just chirped again.

“Laurinaitis!”

Toris looked up. Jones ran up to him, wand at the ready.

“No, no – it’s okay, it’s okay!” Toris said. “It’s not – I don’t know what it’s doing, but it’s not killing me.”

Panting, Jones finally slowed to a stop in front of him. His boss squinted at the letter – and blanched. Toris had never seen someone look so terrified of a cursed letter in all his life, and honestly, he was glad. Only unlucky people were used to mean tricks like this.

“What the hell – is that another cursed letter?” Jones asked. His voice wavered. Even after all his work in the Department, Toris knew that Jones had a naturally weak stomach when it came to anything creepy, so he tried to shield the letter.

“Yes, sir,” Toris said. “It—”

“Is it from that freaking criminal guy?”

“Yes, sir. I sat down—”

“God, are you okay?”

Jones was pale. To anyone else, he would have looked dazed – but Toris watched Jones swallow, then square his shoulders. All the while, his boss was glancing between the blood on his pants and the letter’s mewling mouth. He wasn’t dazed. He was righteous.

“I’m fine, sir,” Toris said. “It just – bit me. That’s all.”

“Bit you? God!” Jones was fuming. “This guy is crazy. Absolutely crazy. I’m sorry, Laurinaitis, this is just – crazy.”

“This is the job I signed up for, sir,” Toris said.

“Yeah, but this isn’t the job that you deserve. It’s not the job that any of us deserve. Fuckin’ Artie,” Jones spat. Toris sighed. At least Jones had a conscience. But before he could say anything, Jones held up his wand. “I’m calling you a medic. They’re gonna be here soon, so just stay put, okay?”

“Thank you,” Toris said weakly.

“I’ll stay here with you until they get here. God, at least we’re competent –”

On the other side of the office, a pipe burst.

Jones groaned.

“Always something new,” he muttered. “Hold on, stay here, Laurinaitis. And keep that thing with you. Artie’s gonna have to give us our damn funding when he sees whatever the hell that is.”

It was a good thing that Jones wandered away when he did, because Toris didn’t have the energy to talk; he slumped back down to the floor immediately, buried his face in the charred carpet.

All around him, his colleagues’ tables burned to smithereens. He doubted he would see Williams again – the boy had been missing more and more days ever since the first letter came in. If it wasn’t for the fact that the Department only had three employees, Toris was sure that Jones would have let him go a long time ago. Vargas would come back because he loved the stress – the running from disasters on one day and fixing them on another.

And Toris?

He was only there because he was too broken to do anything else besides low-level magic work. He wasn’t a hero like Jones. He was just trying to carve out a decent life for himself. If that really existed.

For what seemed like the nine billionth time in the past three months, Toris Laurinaitis laid on the office floor with his broken body and tried to live. He breathed. In and out. And, like always, his eyes went to the upper left-hand part of the address, where that one name continued to taunt him.

Gods.

He really was tired of Felix Łukasiewicz.

___

That night, when he finally limped back to his apartment, Toris stood in front of the door. And for a moment, he just listened.

He shivered in the dimly lit hallway, which smelled like old spices and musty wall. He should’ve walked inside already. But it was nice to have a moment, just one moment, where all he had to do was breathe. He breathed in deeply.

No hurried steps came from inside the apartment – no clinking glasses, no scratching pens. Oskars was probably writing poetry in his room. Thank God for that. All night, Toris worried about how he would hide this injury from this brother. The last time he came home with an injury like this, Oskars sat all night by his bedside to ask questions – first about the Tournament, and then about the injury itself. How did the medic apply the gauze? Does your hand hurt? Did Beilschmidt put up a good fight?

Toris did his best to answer each question in kind. Tight across my arm. Yes. The best I’ve ever seen him give. But then Oskars leaned forward and asked, with his eyes round like bowls, Can you still use magic?, and Toris’s breath caught in the soft pit of his throat. And all his words seemed down to die.

No, Toris said.

What? Why? Is it—

No, Toris said, and he turned away. No, I can’t. It’s late, now. You should go to sleep.

I’m s—

Just leave me be. Go to sleep.

And the next morning, Oskars only asked about how the weather felt that day.

It wasn’t malicious. Toris knew that for a fact. Oskars had always just wanted to understand people with his questions. It was why he was such a good poet. But it was better, Toris realized, to stop his brother from getting any strange flights of idea in his head. It was better if he just went straight to his bedroom to sleep off the pain. God knows he needed it, especially when he had to be back at work next week.

The apartment was still. Oskars’ shoes lay slightly askew on the side of the hall; his maroon hoodie was thrown on the first rung of the coat rack, covering the yellow scarf Eduard had paid Toris to repair last week. Other than that, the kitchen and the living room were completely empty. Darkness enveloped him as he closed the door. He locked the doorknob and the door chain, and afterwards he sighed, softly. (He really needed to get Oskars into the habit of locking the door chain when he came back.) If Oskars was in his room, he had probably already scrounged up dinner for himself – and Toris could get away with not cooking up something, just for one night. Slowly, he walked toward his bedroom.

“Toris!”

“Ah?!”

“Hi,” Oskars said. He stepped out of his room. “Welcome home.”

Oskars scratched his head. Harrowing as it was to see him, Toris was still glad. “Jeez, Oska, you took me by surprise… I thought you were writing?”

“I mean, I was, but I just came out to get another snack.”

“Ah. What are you eating?”

Oskars scrounged in his pocket, then lifted his hand. “Pickles.”

Toris squinted. Oskars was holding a sandwich bag stuffed with whole dill pickles.

“What… pickles? Just plain pickles?”

“Yeah!”

“You’re not eating them with anything?”

“Nope.”

Oskars had always loved eating pickles in burgers, but Toris had never seen him eat pickles just plain. “My God, those are salty… but they’re better than potato chips, I suppose,” he said with a sigh.

“That’s why you wash them down with the drink of champions,” Oskars said, and held up a bottle of vodka with his other hand.

Toris’s eyes widened.

“Oh no, no, no, absolutely not,” he said.

“What? Want me to save you some?”

“No! I don’t want you to drink that at all!”

“But you like this combo, right?” Oskars asked.

“Pickles and vodka?! Never in my life!”

“No, vodka and anything salty,” Oskars clarified.

Toris rubbed his temples. Trust Oskars to remember something he tried so hard to forget. “I liked it, yes, but it wasn’t good for me, and it’s not good for you,” he said. Huffing, he dropped his work bag to the floor and turned to switch on the kitchen lights. Even if his leg still hurt, he was not going to let his brother descend the path to alcoholism.

“So why’d you like it?”

Toris moved in front of the kitchen counters. How could he explain that stressful time where he drank in between competitions without sounding completely unhinged? There was no way he could, really… so he just shook his head. “It’s more for the effect than the taste,” he said finally. “Anyways. If you want a real meal, there are pierogi and chicken thighs in the fridge.”

Oskars was quiet for a moment.

“I wanna eat pierogi,” he said finally.

“Good,” Toris said. He sighed. “It’s about time we got some real nutrients in you.”

And then, instinctively, he started pulling out the equipment – the pans, the bowls, the utensils, the bag of dumplings – and setting them on the counter. There went his plan of sleeping early. But at least he could spend more time with Oskars. They hadn’t seen each other that much lately, if he thought about it. With Oskars at university and him at work in the Department, it was hard to carve out time for an actual conversation.

“What was the last real meal you ate, Oska?” Toris asked. He set a pan on their coil stove, then turned the heat to medium.

Behind him, Toris heard Oskars settle down into one of the wooden chairs around their kitchen table. “Let’s see…. Oh. Emil and I split chicken tenders for lunch today.”

“Split?!”

“I’m broke, Toris.”

“My God…”

“Actually, the pickles were an improvement over yesterday, because yesterday, we had to borrow instant noodles from Leon.”

“Ah… that’s good thinking,” Toris said at last. He was hit by a swirl of memories from his own university days, which weren’t so far away – memories of the big trays of frozen cepelinai he used to share with Eduard during the winter months. In those months, security deposits and health insurance and other start of the year expenses drained their student loan money instantly.

“Isn’t it?” Oskars sighed. “But I wish we didn’t have to do it. I wish I just have it all together already. Like, you were younger than I am now when you started competing, and you were great. But I don’t even know what I want to do next semester.”

The pan was getting hot. Toris added oil, then rotated the pan so it would coat the surface evenly.

“You’ll get there if you just keep at it. I know you will.”

As Toris warmed their pierogi in the pan, the rich smell of buttered potatoes and soft dough blanketed the kitchen. It only took him a few minutes to set everything up. He was so used to putting out literal fires at work that setting out two plates and silverware was actually relaxing in comparison. But the best part was when Oskars took a pierogi, bit into it, and smiled.

“Do they taste good?” Toris asked.

“Yummy. Mm… how do you get them so crispy but soft?”

“Just watch the heat. I’ll show you later, once I finish getting everything sorted.”

“After work tomorrow?” Oskars asked.

Toris hesitated. For a moment, he just watched Oskars scarf down pierogi after pierogi. There was still no way that he could tell his brother about the injury. Well, there was another thing for him to do – find some place to work outside of the office while he healed… “Yes, if you’re not busy with schoolwork,” he said.

Oskars grumbled. “I have so many essays to work on tomorrow that I feel like my brain is gonna burst…”

“So finish them, and we’ll cook after.”

“That’s gonna take forever.”

“You’re only in university for a short time; you have to make the most of it.” Here, Toris took a bite of pierogi, then swallowed. “But I’m always here.”

“I mean, not really,” Oskars said glumly.

Toris paused.

“You’re going to be busy at work again, right?” Oskars asked. He opened his mouth to say more, to launch into one of the unknowingly blunt assessments of his entire personality—

And then tapping came at the door.

Not a knock – but tapping. Repeated, fluttering, and soft-sounding tapping, like the scratchy thump of the broom their mother used to use to clean the floor in the old house. Toris shared a glance with Oskars.

“Is that Ed?” Oskars asked, in a lower voice this time.

Toris shook his head. He hadn’t seen Eduard in at least three weeks.

“Stay here. I’ll get it,” Toris mouthed.

Instinctively, he reached for his wand. It wasn’t there. He pulled out his pepper spray instead, and he made his way to the door, where the tapping came more and more insistently. And with more force.

Toris looked out the peephole.

There was no one standing at eye level.

He stepped back. Stilled.

And then –

A brown mass threw itself into the peephole.

It hit the glass with the softest thud Toris had ever heard. And another. And another. It wasn’t a human, nor an animal, nor any kind of magic. In fact, when Toris leaned forward to squint through the peephole, he saw… that it wasn’t even living.

When he realized what it was, a jolt went through his entire body. Flabbergasted, Toris unlocked the knob. Then, with the door chain still in place, he cracked the door open halfway.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered in exasperation.

And in response –

The letter that had nearly bitten his ass off chirped a lovely tune and smiled.

___

Toris had just barely shut the door when Oskars started asking questions.

“Who is it? Why are they singing? Are they looking for money?”

For once in his life, Toris didn’t answer all of them. “It’s just business,” he said, shaking his head. And he crossed his arms without saying a word until Oskars pouted and tactically retreated to his room. “But I want to know who it is when you get back from work tomorrow,” Oskars said before closing the door.

When Toris opened the living room door again, the fanged and blood-spackled letter fluttered straight into his arms. It meowed. Purred gently into his arms. Toris ushered it into his workbag, where it nestled in between his work files and his blood-stained former pants.

The next day, he left for work even earlier than usual to make an uninterrupted beeline for Jones’s office. It was unlikely that Jones would have the time to talk to him after the fiasco that happened yesterday. Still, he hoped – even prayed – that the stars would align for once to just give him a break.

But it was just as expected. After twenty minutes, when Jones finally emerged from his cavernous office, he was shuddering with caffeine.

“Huh? The letter?” Jones said. “I sent it over to Artie. His guys grabbed it yesterday. Speaking of guys, you’re not gonna believe this shit – those sons-of-bitches won’t expedite our funding request. Can you believe it? Unbe-fucking-leviable. That damn thing just about mauled you to death!” Jones’s eyes burned with a fervent desire for justice. Before Toris could say anything, Jones slapped him on the shoulders and started walking them towards the plaster-covered coffee station. “Ooh, they’re gonna wish they listened to us the first time when I’m done with them! Here’s what we’re gonna say: Dear Artie, you absolute massive asswad…”

And for the rest of the working day, Toris crafted the most diplomatic insults possible for Arthur Kirkland, swept up rubble, and compartmentalized his last remaining hope for bureaucracy into a very small cardboard box in his heart.

That was how he found himself sitting across Eduard’s desk.

Despite living in an apartment on a main city street, Eduard’s office was quiet. Quaint. His desk was made of thin birch wood and only covered with his white Mac desktop. It was the last place that a blood-thirsty, blood-covered letter should be in, but that’s exactly where Eduard decided it needed to be.

Behind the desk, Eduard leaned forward in his birch wood chair. He was petting the letter with his ring finger. The letter purred as it snuggled into a pile of white muslin. Occasionally, it extended its red tongue to lick at Eduard’s finger, but for the most part, it sat quietly while Eduard observed it.

“Well… it’s a well-behaved cursed letter, I’ll give it that,” Eduard said.

Toris exhaled. “You should ask it about the fireballs.”

Eduard’s eyes widened. “Fireballs?” he asked.

Toris nodded.

Eduard raised an eyebrow. Turning back to the letter, he gently patted it with three fingers.

“That can’t be true, can it?” he asked softly. “Did you shoot Toris with fireballs, you little dragon you?”

In response, the letter mewed.

Eduard chuckled. “You’re a courageous little creature,” he murmured.

He gave it a small, generous smile. He opened a drawer beneath his desk and lifted out a golden birdcage with a key, which he set next to the letter. “Prepared especially for you,” he said.

The letter sat up. It floated into the birdcage, peering around it curiously. And once it settled into the muslin that blanketed the bottom, Eduard locked the cage. A pale blue glow that smelled faintly of lavender surrounded it – and suddenly, the letter stilled… and began to snore.

Toris gaped at the cage. Eduard winked at him, then once again lowered the birdcage into the same drawer.

“And you are smart to have neutralized it,” Eduard said, finally fully turning towards Toris. “Had it gone unchecked, it would have burnt off both your legs and your stomach.”

Toris blanched.

“Legs and stomach?”

“Yes. Your wizarding correspondents have gotten their hands on a new breed of cursed letter. It mixes the large teeth of the old breeds with the potent fire magic of the new ones. I identified it by looking at the glands at the back of its throat – they’re large. Quite knotty. So, again – you’re smart to have neutralized it.”

Toris sank back into Eduard’s chair.

“That’s it,” he said. “I need your help tracking this person down, Ed. I can’t… There’s no way I can deal with this anymore.”

“And you know me – I’m more than happy to help you find them.” Eduard pushed up his glasses with his finger. He leaned forward, focusing all his attention on Toris.

Toris sighed. He felt a little better after hearing that Eduard was on his side – but then again, Eduard always was. Even after 10 years of competing together in tournaments, Eduard had never let him down. “Thank you. I just can’t have this happening at work anymore.”

“Of course.”

“Not with Oskars in school.”

Eduard paused. “And with you working, too,” he added mildly.

Toris nodded. “Yes, that, too,” he said. “It’s too, ah… distracting. Every week, a new cursed letter attacks me, and I don’t know who they’re from. All I know is that they’re addressed to someone named Felix Łukasiewicz.”

“Hm.”

“Yes.”

“Based on the first name, I’m going to assume they’re a man. Or they’re posing as one, at the very least.”

“I think that’s true, because the only letter I’ve read called him ‘the most hated man in the city’ and ‘a blight upon all of humankind’”.

“These wizards certainly are eloquent,” Eduard hummed. Tapping his fingers on his desk, he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. “Are there any records of him working at the Department?”

“No, not that I could find. But that’s not the strange part. There are no public records of him even living in the city, either.”

“Public records,” Eduard mused.

“Yes, public records. Which is why, ah…”

Toris gestured at Eduard.

Which is why Eduard did him the dignity of saying it for him. “Understood. I’ll start my investigation as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, Ed.”

Eduard nodded. “Do you have any of the other letters?”

“No. I have to destroy them before they can kill me.”

At this, Eduard stifled a chuckle.

“What? What was funny there?”

“It’s an absurd situation, that’s all.”

“Ahh… we’ve been in too many of them,” Toris sighed.

“Well, I’ll make this the last.”

Eduard smiled at him, small but genuine, and it was then that Toris once again realized how lucky he was to be friends with Eduard von Bock. There was no one else who he trusted more. Already, Eduard was opening his desk drawer; he pulled out manila files and a rolodex, and once he had laid them all neatly out on his table, he pulled out a pair of googles, too. When they still competed in tournaments, Eduard always wore those goggles into every fight. They helped him deal with everything.

It was time to go. Once Eduard put his goggles on, no one could distract him from his work.

“Thanks again, Ed,” Toris said. He stood up and grabbed his green jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll leave you to your work, then?”

“Oh – you’re leaving already?” Eduard asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

“I don’t want to distract you from your work. And I have to get back home, too – Oskars asked me to show him how to make dumplings.”

“Understood. Well, could I at least offer you some potato salad to take back? Or some coffee?”

“Ah, not tonight. But thank you.”

Toris finished zipping up his jacket. At that, Eduard nodded. “Well, maybe another time. Please send Oskars my greetings, too.”

“I will. I’ll see you later, Ed.”

“Goodnight.”

Toris quietly shut the door to Eduard’s office. The moment it shut, the sounds of rustling papers filled the hallway. Eduard was already hard at work. And as Toris walked out of Eduard’s apartment and into the night, he decided that he would work hard, too.

For the sake of his job and for the sake of the people he loved, Toris made up his mind:

He was going to track down Felix Łukasiewicz.

Chapter Text

By the end of that work week, Toris had written more than a dozen letters telling Mr. Arthur Kirkland, President of the Department of Magical Matters, to essentially “go fuck himself”. The sentiment was all from Jones. His boss was so infuriated, so indignant at the whole situation, that he could not focus on his other work until he bombarded the head office with as many letters as he could possibly send to criticize their incompetence.

It was touching that his boss would go to such lengths to defend their department. And Toris was grateful that Jones cared so much about him as an employee. But the long hours he spent following Jones around the office to write down his dictations were exhausting. When they finally finished their work at 11 PM on Friday, Toris’s right hand was cramped. His left eye twitched uncontrollably. For once, he regretted that the hallway outside the office was well-lit, because Jones could see every bit of stress on his face if he wanted to.

Thankfully, Jones didn’t see it at all – and if he did, he didn’t mention it. “Great job this week, Laurinaitis!” was what he said instead. Somehow, his boss still managed to flash him a toothy grin, too. Toris was flabbergasted. Did he just love the stress that much? He pulled up a trembling smile to reciprocate, but Jones had turned back to lock the office door, and he was already speaking again, anyways. “Make sure to rest up this weekend. If Artie doesn’t respond by Monday, I swear – we’re showing up to his office so I can kick his ass myself.”

In the moment, Toris nodded. There was nothing wrong with taking on more work… and Jones would give him a decent overtime check, too. It was only when he was walking home alone under the starry, starry sky that thinking about the offer made him blanch. Working with a Jones in overdrive was already intense enough. But if he had to do that while tracking down Łukasiewicz by himself? It seemed like a recipe for disaster.

There was only one solution: he just needed to find Łukasiewicz as soon as possible. But that all depended on Eduard. Toris waited with bated breath. There was no word on Saturday. Nothing either, of course, on Sunday. Monday morning, too, came and went without news. But Toris let the pit in his stomach sit. Eduard had never let him down.

That night, when he returned home to his apartment, he made a beeline for his mailbox. He found a stack of the usual bills and coupon magazines… and then, on top everything, there was a crisp white envelope with no return address. Toris slid it into his coat pocket. Once he entered his kitchen, he slit it open – and his eyes widened.

Inside, there was a note written in Eduard’s neat cursive:

Meet me tomorrow at 7 PM. I’ll make dinner.

___

The walk up to Eduard’s apartment was nerve-wracking. In just a few hours, he and Eduard would be – hopefully – apprehending the wizarding criminal who had haunted him for months. Some of his nervousness, though, went away when he saw what Eduard had cooked for dinner. Lemon-dill salmon with dill, potatoes, and a side salad with radishes. After they finished eating, he nearly slumped over onto Eduard’s dining room table.

“You’re incredible, Ed,” he said.

Eduard smiled. He stood at the head of the table as he grabbed their plates. “I’m glad my dinner was a hit, heheh.”

“It was delicious! Can you write down the recipe for me? I’ll have to try making it for Oskars one of these days.” Once he could afford salmon, that was. With that thought, Toris sat up. There was no point in letting his anxiety get to him now. He just had to control it. “Ah, let’s do that later. We should get going now.”

“Of course,” Eduard said. He walked across the room to slide their plates into the dishwasher, and then they shuffled to the front hall to leave.

It was a shame, because Eduard’s condo was so nice. The white walls and white furniture were… definitely different from the brown leather couches and potted plants in Toris’s apartment, that was for sure. But Eduard kept everything clean, which Toris appreciated. He hummed as he squatted to put on his work shoes. It was relaxing to be in a place where he didn’t have to worry about plaster flakes catching in his hair.

“Toris.”

Toris looked up – and then furrowed his eyebrows. Eduard was holding out a brown paper bag.

“Ah, what’s up?” he asked.

“My apologies – I should have mentioned this before dinner. But we’ll have to change into these clothes to go where we’re going.”

Strange. Still, Toris opened the bag. Inside, Eduard had packed a green button-down, a white t-shirt, and jeans.

“Casual clothes, huh?” he said.

“Yes. Specifically, casual clothes for college students.” Eduard cocked his eyebrows up. “It seems that we’re headed into a place frequented by them.”

Toris blew out a breath. “Really?” he asked, half-incredulous and half full of dread. What was a criminal mastermind doing in the same place as college students?

“Yes. Don’t worry – I’m bringing my wand with me, and I have contacts who can assist us if anything goes awry. And Oskars is occupied with something else tonight.”

“Ah, is he?”

Eduard nodded. “He’s currently at Emil’s apartment.”

At that, Toris sighed in relief. How Eduard knew that, Toris had no idea. He knew that Eduard had used their time competing in the Wizarding Tournaments to network with people all across the city, but he didn’t know the extent of that network. It was sometimes uncanny that Eduard could locate people in the blink of an eye… but Toris knew that Eduard loved Oskars, so he felt slightly better.

“Ah… it’s so strange that we have to dress up as university students now. Time flies!”

“It certainly does, doesn’t it?” Eduard mused.

“Mm. Okay, I’ll go change in your bathroom, then.” Toris stood up, cradling the bag in his arms. “Thank you for this, Ed.”

“Go ahead. I’ll use my bedroom.”

“But, ah – I have one question. Is my current outfit not youthful?”

Before Eduard said anything, Toris thought that he could still pass as an older student. He was wearing the black blazer, white button down, and black slacks that he always wore to work. Which, granted, was still formal… but he swore that he saw older students wearing outfits like this when he still attended the university.

Eduard assessed him.

“It’s a practical office worker’s uniform,” he said finally.

“Ah, so we’re old now. Got it.”

Toris resigned himself to adulthood. Eduard choked back laughter.

“What’s funny now?” Toris asked in exasperation.

“It’s your tone again,” Eduard chuckled. Before Toris could ask him to explain – for the millionth time – what was funny about his tone, Eduard went on. “I didn’t mean to say we’re antiquated. I only meant that we have to adjust to the atmosphere.”

“And what’s the atmosphere?”

Eduard was still chuckling. “It’s – we can discuss it on the way. Let’s go get dressed first.” With that, they changed into their youthful clothes and headed into the university district.

The August evening was flush with heat. As they weaved through the brightly lit streets of the campus, Toris watched the groups of laughing students walking away from them. They smiled so happily with their new jeans and their glossy hair. Of course they did – they’d managed to secure spots at the university, after all, unlike him, who had to take a medical leave at the very end of last semester. These were the student who still had potential. These were the desired subjects of the advertisements on every single lamp post and café window in the district. Tutors wanted! $15 cover! Social event next week!

As he and Eduard walked up to the crosswalk at the campus’s main street, Toris searched the stoplight and the streetlamps for one poster in particular. There had to be at least one, he thought. If they weren’t here, they wouldn’t be anywhere else on campus. And sure enough, he found one. There, pasted on top of every other poster on the stoplight, was the familiar red poster advertising the city’s 63^rd Annual Wizarding Tournament.

Toris only looked at it for a moment before he and Eduard crossed the street. Even so, his breath still caught in his throat. Thank God all the students were chatting with their friends. He didn’t know what he’d do if anyone recognized him.

Recognition, though, was something he realized he didn’t have to worry about as much. Eduard led him out of the heart of the university to its outskirts, where it again merged with the downtown. The coffee shops with fairy lights were replaced by liquor stores lit by neon lights. Soon, groups of older adults strode alongside the students. Their sharp laughs cut the air just as just as the night above started to twinkle with tiny stars.

At the end of the street, Eduard approached a bustling bar that sat next to – of all things – a bookstore that was closed for the day. Toris furrowed his eyebrows. Was Felix Łukasiewicz so powerful that he could be a regular at a downtown bar?

Apparently not, because Eduard didn’t take him to there. Instead, he entered the narrow alleyway between the bookstore and the bar. The alleyway was lined with trash cans and flickering yellow lights. They walked a little down the alley, and then Eduard stopped.

“Here,” he said.

He pointed to a set of stairs next to the bookstore that Toris assumed led down to their basement. Or maybe not, judging by Eduard’s serious expression. It was at times like these that a small part of Toris wished he hadn’t given up his wand – or any other of his magical channeling devices, either. Back then, he could have handled any threat easily.

With Eduard in front, they descended the stairs. Was it going to be a bar? A shady convenience store? Maybe a dusty florist’s shop that really just served as a front for Łukasiewicz’s criminal enterprises? Toris didn’t know, so he gripped his pepper spray tight. He prepared himself for a fight as he turned to the entrance –

Instead, he jolted back.

There was a buff muscled man with boxing gloves glaring at him.

Actually, it was a cartoon of a buff muscled man wearing boxing gloves, but it still threw him off. To be more specific… Toris was pretty sure that the man was what Oskars and Emil called an “anime”. Or maybe he was from “anime”? He didn’t know enough to confirm.

He just knew the space was not at all what he expected. Pink neon lights lined the top of the door. To the right of it, someone had pasted a laminated poster that listed out… match dates. Toris blinked. Match dates for what? He peered closer at the poster.

“…An arcade?” he whispered.

Eduard nodded. “Apparently,” he whispered back.

Sure, Toris had heard of criminals running casinos, but he had never heard of any who ran arcades. Unless Łukasiewicz was just that scummy. Or intelligent, depending on how you analyzed him.

“Are you guys going in?” someone asked.

“Ah!”

He should’ve been paying more attention—! Toris turned. A black-haired boy and a girl stood behind him and Eduard, shivering in their hoodies. They looked like they were in their very first years at the university.

“Ah, sorry,” Toris said. He and Eduard shuffled to the side to let the two teenagers approach the door.

Eduard looked at him. Raised his eyebrow. What’s our move? he asked.

The teenagers were about to open the door. There was no way that he would let Łukasiewicz ruin the lives of two young people the same age as his brother – and there was no way that he was going to let Łukasiewicz get away from him, either. Toris moved his head towards the door, and they followed right behind the teenagers to enter the arcade.

Toris had never seen so many arcade machines in his life. They were bulky things that lined all four walls, and their screens displayed bright pixel fighters grappling each other or shooting magic spells. In front of the screens, other students sat on stools to mash the controllers furiously. If they weren’t playing, they were standing in groups to talk with each other.

These weren’t the gamers he had imagined. Toris imagined that they would be a rough, sketchy crowd. At best, he imagined that they would be quiet and introverted like Emil. Instead, these gamers were having fun. The Christmas lights and neon pink signs hanging from the walls illuminated their happy, youthful smiles.

Toris glanced at Eduard. It was hard to believe that they were really in the right place. There was a bar at the back of the room, but instead of being stocked with alcohol, it had… bowls of candy and bags of chips. Nothing that felt shady at all.

But Eduard just nodded. Toris reasoned that if Eduard heard the arcade was the right place, it was at least worth investigating. With another glance, they decided to split up. While Eduard stuck by the front half of the room closest to the door, Toris headed to the back, where there were fewer people. It would be much easier for him to manage a dangerous situation here. And the relative quiet was better for his nerves.

Truth be told, everything in the arcade reminded him of the Wizarding Tournaments. Everywhere he looked, there was a new machine with a new fight on it. Even though they weren’t magical fights, they still made Toris queasy. For a moment, he stood and stared at the machines. It might be interesting, he thought, to try out one of the games. For some reason, they almost looked… fun. And it would be a good way to gather information. But his stomach was too nauseous. Agh. It was better if he just waited for the nausea to pass. In the end, he sat down on the wooden stool next to the minifridge at the very corner of the arcade. From his seat, he could observe all the players while resting his back against the wall. Assuming no one told him to leave.

There was only one person who was close to him. He was a guy wearing a red hoodie, and he sat rigid-backed in front of the arcade machine closest to the minifridge. Toris peered at his screen. His character – a long-limbed fighter with red boxing gloves – darted around a brick alleyway. He snatched up pixelated hams and sandwiches and bright yellow bananas from the street. It was strange video game logic, but apparently it had a purpose – because they made the guy’s fighter glow orange. A moment later, he pummeled his opponent – a stocky boxer – with powerful punches that the boxer couldn’t block. Each time the fighter hit, the boxer flinched back. After every third hit, the boxer wouldn’t flinch, and he could move back – but regardless, the fighter punched again and again and again. It looked like the fighter would win. And then the orange glow faded away.

The guy continued bombarding the boxer with a flurry of punches. Boom! Pow! But without the power ups, his attacks only gave minimal damage.

Just as the fighter lost his buffs, the boxer finally found his footing. He finally figured out how to defend himself against the fighter’s punching. The guy huffed. He shifted in his seat. Impatiently, his fighter took every opportunity to lunge at the defending boxer – sometimes hitting, sometimes not. The boxer waited.

“So annoying,” the guy muttered under his breath. He backed up, trying to bait the boxer into attacking. The boxer stopped defending. The guy’s eyes widened. He jumped, rushing in for an air kick –

But he misjudged the timing, and he landed unguarded right in front of the boxer, who pummeled the fighter with heavy-hitting punches that he couldn’t run away from. After every third punch, he would back up to defend himself, while the guy – who was gripping the controller with white-knuckles – just dove headlong into attacking the boxer. It was obvious that the boxer had the patience advantage. In the end, he used that advantage to win.

“Eh?! You’re kidding!” the guy cried.

A cheer went up from Eduard’s side of the room.

“Good game!” someone shouted.

It sounded like a genuine congratulations. But the guy just shook his head. “No way, you can’t be serious… Matthias! Play me again!” he shouted.

“Huh? Ya still have the energy for another round?!”

“Yeah!” the guy huffed. “I, like, wasn’t using my full power back there!”

“You know what? Sure! Sounds like fun!” Matthias said. When Toris looked, he saw a tall man with wild blond hair stretching his arms above his head. “But lemme drink some water first. And then I gotta go home soon!”

“Yeah, sure,” the blond guy said. After that, he leaned back in his chair, huffed again, and closed his eyes..

“Darn it,” he muttered. “That was seriously…”

He trailed off with a frown. Toris winced in sympathy. Losing was never a pleasant experience. He was about to look away, to give the guy a moment of privacy with his loss, when the guy turned directly towards him.

“Oh!” the guy exclaimed. “Oh my gosh. I did not expect to see anyone there.”

“Ah! It’s okay,” Toris said. “Sorry. I’m in your way.”

The guy shrugged. “It’s cool.” He tugged off his hoodie, then yawned. “I got, like, way into that game…”

Toris knew this was the part where he smiled and continued their conversation. Like normal.

But every word he had ever known was suddenly impossible to unstick from his tongue. Like not normal.

The guy had tied his blond hair back into a neat ponytail – and his green eyes and nose were sharp and fine, just like a certain someone’s… No. Focus on talking to him, Toris. Focus on finding Łukasiewicz. But even after he swallowed, all the potential words he could say stayed stuck in his throat like a bunch of clumsy potatoes.

Thankfully, the guy spoke first. “Hey, can you, like, pass me a soda?” he asked.

Toris nodded in relief. “What kind?”

“Just, like, an orange soda or something.”

Toris made sure that their fingers wouldn’t touch when he passed the orange soda over. Good. Stay in control of yourself, Toris. Don’t let things end like last time.

“Thanks,” the guy said. Without waiting, he chugged it completely. Once he was done, he tossed the can into the trashcan next to the fridge and huffed again.

“Man, Matthias seriously swept me back there,” he said. “Ugh. I’m totally gonna beat him next game.”

The guy… was talking to him. For what reason, Toris had no idea. But it was an opening, so he decided to jump in anyways. “Ah… you can do it. You played decently in the first half.”

The guy cocked his head to the side. “Ooh, do you play Alley Warriors, Too?”

Ah. How could he explain this? There was no way that he could mention the Wizarding Tournament… so Toris just shook his head. “Ah, no. I just saw your gameplay from back here,” he said. “You have good reaction time.”

At this, the guy perked up. “I know, right?” he said. “I was really leaning into that. I swore my strategy was foolproof.”

“What was your strategy?” Toris asked.

“Okay, so – wait a sec. Have you played, like, any fighting games at all?”

“Not at all,” Toris admitted. It was better to be honest. And it seemed this guy liked to talk about these “fighting games”.

The guy’s eyes widened. “Really?! Oh my gosh, how have you lived without ever playing a fighting game?!”

Toris shrugged. “Ah, it seems like I’ve missed out on a lot.”

“Yeah, seriously! Okay, well, I’ll explain the whole thing to you. Basically – you have these two characters, right? And each character has different stats and attacks that they can use. But that’s just one part of the game. Do you remember those food items at the beginning of the match? They’re stat-boosting items that raise your attack and HP and stuff. So my strategy was – I tried grabbing a bunch of those so I could knock out Matthias super quickly. But Matthias just swooped in to beat the crap out of me.” The guy sighed. “He’s, like, super good for some reason.”

Stats? HP? What did any of that mean? Toris didn’t know at all. He had an idea of the guy’s mistakes, but he wasn’t sure at all. Bringing them up would be risky in conversation… but somehow, doing so felt like the right decision. The guy seemed honestly invested in his game. Maybe, then, there would be hope for him.

“…So you were relying on your items more than your own abilities?” Toris asked.

As expected, the guy flushed pink.

“Eh, you could say that, yeah,” he admitted.

Toris nodded. The guy was honest. A little prideful… yet honest. And anyone who could be honest about their faults could win a competitive game. Immediately, Toris’s mind filled with advice that he could give him. He wanted to tell the guy that he absolutely needed to improve his attack technique… but Toris knew he also had to give that advice tactfully. “I see. Ah… if you’d like, I could give you some tips?”

The guy hummed in consideration. Finally, he nodded. “Mm, you know what? Sure,” he said. “Lay it on me. I seriously wanna beat this guy.”

A determined smile spread across the guy’s face. Toris had to stop himself from chuckling. Even though he knew he had to be on guard, he couldn’t help it. “I’ll give you my best advice.”

“Yeah, you should. I wanna hear it.”

Toris took a deep breath before he looked at the screen. He spoke softly, so as not to embarrass the guy and to keep their strategy discussion private. “Ah… the first thing I noticed is that you have faster reaction time than Matthias. This means that you can attack him quicker than he can attack you. It also means that you can dodge his attacks more easily, too. But while you have the speed advantage, Matthias makes up for it with his attack technique and his patience.” The guy bristled, as almost everyone did when receiving critique on their attack technique, but Toris continued. “During the late game, you rushed at Matthias too impatiently. Because of this, he eventually knocked you out with the same flinch strategy that you used at the start of the game.”

Toris considered his next advice carefully. In the end, he decided that it was always better for a competitor to play to their strengths instead of their weaknesses. “If you want to continue utilizing your fast reaction time, I think you need to do two things,” he said. “First, you need to use more patience when attacking, or else your opponent will be able to easily predict your attack strategy. Try bluffing Matthias more. Second, you need to learn this game’s rules around flinching. It seems that characters can only flinch their opponents a certain number of times in a row before the game forces them to step back. Try to plan your strategy around those rules instead of relying on the items.”

“Focus on strategy, huh…?” the guy repeated.

Toris nodded. “Ah, that’s only if you want to continue playing that way.”

Without hesitating, the guy said, “Yeah, I do. I like the rush.”

The guy was already settling back into his seat. He was ready.

“Observe how he plays, too,” Toris said.

“Yup, I will,” the guy said. He swiveled around to face Matthias, who was leaning against the wall – and laughing it up with Eduard of all people. Eduard moved fast. “Hey, Mat! Are you, like, ready now?”

“Oh, yeah! Let’s do this!” Matthias shouted. “But this is my last one for the night, okay?”

“’kay!”

“Good luck,” Toris said.

The guy cracked his knuckles. “Thanks much, Mr. Teacher,” he said with a wink. “Watch as I totally wipe the floor with him.”

Mr. Teacher?! In any other situation, Toris might have blushed. He didn’t, though. He just sat back to watch the guy face off against Matthias for the final time.

Toris knew that it wasn’t easy for people to implement feedback right away. Back in his tournament days, he needed days – or even weeks – to properly learn a new technique. When the match began, it seemed like the guy would be the same. He rushed to grab the power-ups as soon as they appeared on the screen. Seconds later, he was punching at Matthias again. Boom! Boom! Boom!

The boxer flinched backwards two times. Toris was about to look away when, miraculously, the guy drew his character back. For the first time, the fighter shielded himself from attacks. Matthias ran his character towards the fighter. The guy blocked.

And with a shit-eating grin, the guy pummeled Matthias with air-kicks.

Toris’s eyes widened. The fighter was running so fast that it almost seemed unreal. How did the player have so much energy?! Maybe it was the adrenaline rush. His face was bright and smirking in the way that happens only when competitors are truly in the zone. His passion combined with his rudimentary strategy, and in the end…

The guy won.

“Aha!” he crowed. “Take that, Mat!”

“Woo! Good game!” Matthias said.

A few of the other players shouted their congratulations. Toris, too, couldn’t help but smile at the guy’s enthusiasm – although he wished that the guy was a bit more humble.

“That was a good game,” he said.

“Yeah, it totally was! Oh my gosh, I really got him. Did you see that super fast thing I did with the flinching—?”

“Great move, too.”

“Hehe! I’m totally gonna use that to kick Matthias’s ass from now on,” the guy said. He hummed happily. “Thanks a lot, dude.”

“Ah, you’re welcome! I’m glad that I could help.”

“Do you wanna play?” the guy asked. “I can totally show you how. It’s really fun.”

Yes, Toris almost said. It did seem like it would be a lot of fun to learn this fighting game with this friendly stranger. But as much as he wanted to have fun… he had to remind himself that he was really there for business. “Ah, well…”

Toris checked his watch. When he saw the time, he almost choked.

“It’s midnight?!”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess it really is only midnight, huh?”

“Only midnight?” Toris asked.

“Yeah! We’re, like, just getting started here. These are like, the best gamer hours.”

“Ahhh, I see…” Toris’s stomach ached. Sighing, he slid his hands into his pockets. “Unfortunately, I have to get going now.”

“Aw, really? Okay,” the guy said, frowning slightly.

“I’m sure you can teach me another time,” Toris said, which was true. He did have to find Łukasiewicz, after all.

“Yeah, seriously. We’re open again tomorrow, so just stop on by whenever, okay?”

Toris knew that he would at least have to stop by again before the end of the week. He had gotten so wrapped up in the game that he hadn’t made as many contacts as he would have liked. At the very least, he had established himself as someone who was friendly and helpful.

Eduard, though, seemed to have fared much better. His friend was smiling more than pleasantly as he approached the back of the room.

It was time to take his leave. “I will. Thank you,” Toris said. “Ah, but before I go – what’s your name?”

“Huh? Oh!” The guy said. At that, he finally stood up and stretched his long arms over his head. He was shorter than Toris, but his eyes burned with the same intensity. “Oops. I guess I, like, forgot to mention that, huh? Gaming is seriously fun. Anyways.”

The guy grinned at him.

“My name’s Felix. It was nice to meet you.”

Chapter Text

As Eduard led the way back to their apartments, Toris shook like a leaf. His stomach ached from the anxious thoughts racing through his head. Was that guy really Łukasiewicz? Why was he spending his evening at an arcade? And why – why – did he spend so much of that evening playing Alley Warriors with him?!

He absolutely had to talk about everything with Eduard. Still, as much as he wanted to discuss it all immediately, he knew it would be best to keep everything to himself until they got back to their apartments. You never knew who was listening in the city.

He had never had a longer walk back to Eduard’s building. When they finally stepped into Eduard’s entryway, and Eduard finally clicked the door shut behind them, Toris had to lean against the wall for support – he was a little out of breath. He made eye contact with Eduard, who was taking off his shoes.

Toris glanced at the door, then tilted his head slightly to the side. Is it safe?

“Yes,” Eduard said.

Toris used every ounce of strength in his body to take off his shoes in a calm human manner. And then his mouth began to move.

“Ed, it was really him,” he said.

“How do you know?” Eduard asked.

“He told me his name.”

“Which was?”

Toris breathed out unsteadily. “Felix.”

Eduard’s eyes widened. He, too, was frazzled – but Toris knew that he was trying his best to stay calm. “Did he mention his last name?”

“No. But what are the odds that we would find another Felix?”

“Right,” Eduard said.

“It’s an uncommon name. Let’s put it this way: there’s a non-zero chance that could be him.”

Eduard hummed in consideration. “That’s true.”

Toris’s blood hummed. “We need to go back to talk with him.” They needed to do it immediately – before they lost their chance again.

“Well – before doing that, let’s pull together the other information we have on him,” Eduard said.

Shaking, Toris clasped his hands together to calm down. It wasn’t right to throw all his impulsive thoughts at Eduard. It wasn’t something he liked to do, either. Anxious as he was, he needed to think about this situation rationally. All the events were just unbelievable. What were the odds that he would talk to Felix Łukasiewicz – or someone who could be Felix Łukasiewicz – on the first night of their investigation?

“You’re right,” Toris admitted. He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, Ed.”

“I’m happy to help you out as much as I can,” Eduard said.

“Right. Thank you.”

“You're welcome. So – what else did you notice about him?”

Toris thought. “He was blond,” he said. “Short. Green eyes." And cute…

Toris stopped himself.

Oh, there was no way that he was going in that direction.

Eduard’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “…Unfortunately, I’m quite tired,” he said. “Could we talk more tomorrow?”

“Ah – oh, sure, Ed. Sorry – I didn’t mean to keep you up for so long. I’m too used to this.”

Eduard gave him an understanding smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

“Have a good night, Ed.”

As Toris left Eduard’s apartment, he was calm – maybe even a little confident that they could track down the real Felix Łukasiewicz. But as he wound his way back through the dark streets, the questions started popping back into his mind again. Łukasiewicz just looked so normal. It was never wise to assume things about people, but… “Felix” didn’t have the air of a magic user at all. He just had a loud, nerdy air. And a very, very cute nose.

A very cute nose that he shouldn’t have been thinking about at all.

Oh, God!

When he got back to the apartment, Toris beelined straight for his bedroom. He flung his work clothes straight into the laundry basket, and he flopped straight into his bed. He buried his head into his pillow. And then he screamed. Silently. The universe was punishing him for some past crime. It had to be.

There was no way that he had a crush on a wizarding criminal mastermind.

___

Still, Toris reminded himself of his end goal. On Sunday, he decided with Eduard that they would go back to the arcade next Monday. The following work week passed by with the slowness of washing sunflower oil out of a white button-down shirt.

Even though he was doing so much… sometimes, as Toris was writing letters for Mr. Jones or rushing back home at night or washing beets in the sink for dinner, he got the feeling that he wasn’t really making life happen for himself. Instead, it was happening to him. It wasn’t how he thought his life would be at 23 years old. But there was no other way that he could go.

___

In the new life he had, Saturdays were the few days where doing the housework was relaxing – because Saturday was laundry day.

Out of all his chores, Toris loved doing laundry… moderately. Doing laundry wasn’t as fun as cooking, but it wasn’t as intensive as cleaning, either. What he appreciated about doing laundry was the sitting. Loading the clothes into the laundry machines was tiring. Each time, Toris had to walk to and from the communal laundry room down the hallway while lugging his white basket behind him. But once he was back in his apartment, he had at least ten minutes where he could sit on the couch to fold a pile of warm, clean clothes… all while watching television.

After the long hours he had worked, laundry day television was just what he needed. Laundry wasn’t so difficult when a chef with a warm smile was explaining the steps to prepare chicken for coq au vin on the television screen. Toris relaxed his shoulders. Feeling this comfortable was strange… but he supposed he could indulge in it for a little bit. He wore his favorite green shirt, and he had tied his hair in a ponytail that let the August air warm the back of his neck. Sunlight filtered into the apartment from the sliding glass door in the living room. On the other side of the apartment, Oskars was writing poetry in his bedroom with the door open. The sounds of him murmuring to himself and shifting around excitedly whenever he thought of a particularly good sentence were enough to make Toris happy. Even his laundry felt good. The towels warmed his lap like a small dog.

Toris folded his towels on the coffee table while the chef praised the beauty of a good marinade. He half-smiled at his pile of folded towels. Then the doorbell rang.

A bigger smile had made its way onto his face when he opened the door. Eduard stood at the entrance, looking as fresh and relaxed as ever.

“Hi, Ed,” Toris said.

“Good morning,” Eduard said. As Toris shut the door behind him, he slid his leather loafers off next to the entryway mat. “Thank you for having me so early.”

Toris shook his head. “You’re always welcome here. Just give me one minute to fold these clothes, and then I’ll get started on the pancakes.”

“Would you like any help with the laundry?”

“No, no – thank you. Just relax.”

“Understood.”

Toris nodded. Truth be told, it would have been nice to have Eduard’s help with the chores, but Eduard was already doing so much for him. After Eduard ate breakfast, they were going to head to his apartment to discuss their plan for talking with Felix Łukasiewicz on Monday. It didn’t feel right to have Eduard tire himself out with something as trivial as house chores.

They sat next to each other on the couch.

“Where’s Oskars?” Eduard asked.

“Right here,” Oskars called.

Oskars stood outside his room. To Toris’s dismay, he was eating another pickle from a plastic bag.

“Good morning,” Toris called out.

Oskars waved to him briefly, then turned back to Eduard. “Ooh, it’s been a while, Ed.”

“Hi, Oska,” Eduard replied. “How’s my favorite poet coming along?”

“Bad,” Oskars said simply. He chewed on a bite of pickle, swallowed, and sighed. “I can’t write about anything, and I kind of wish I could disintegrate into the ground like a worm.”

Eduard hummed in consideration. “Well, isn’t that feeling something you could write about? Just as Gregor Samsa awoke as a human-sized bug, Oskars Galante wants to metamorphosize into a ground-dwelling worm?”

“I mean, I don’t want to be a worm… but it’d be nice to live like one,” Oskars said. He considered for a moment. “Actually, that’s a good idea.”

“Well, you’re a good creative.”

Oskars nodded. “You know, Ed, we should hang out more often."

Eduard chuckled. “I can hang out whenever you have the time.”

Oskars waved his pickle bag around. “I’ll let you know when I’ve finished writing all my poems,” he said. “Actually, I’m almost done with one… ooh, what if we get dinner today to celebrate?”

“Ah, we can’t today, Oska,” Toris said.

“Why not?”

Thankfully, Eduard covered for him. “Your brother is helping me with some work today.”

“Oh… the usual stuff?”

“And more. We’re creating new spreadsheets for the shops,” Eduard said. “But I’ll be done by next week if you want to grab dinner then.”

Toris hesitated. Eating a fried takeout platter from the university district would upset his stomach… but eating dinner with Oskars and Eduard was a memory that he didn’t want to miss. Eventually, he nodded. “I’m free then, too. We could all eat together if you want to, Oska.”

“Mm, that'll be good inspiration for my poetry,” Oskars said.

The three of them fell into silence for a little bit. Toris folded his laundry, Oskars munched on his pickle, and Eduard watched the chef explain his scalloped potato side dish on the television. It was nice, Toris thought, to have a moment like that – a still moment where they could just enjoy each other’s company. He laid the last folded towel on the coffee table, and for a second, he just breathed in the clean, fuzzy scent of dryer sheets.

But the world had to keep moving. When the chef on the television cut off for a commercial break, Toris turned back to look at Oskars, who was still watching them. “Oska, shouldn’t you get back to writing?”

“Oh. Yeah, okay,” Oskars said. He yawned. “I wish I could hang out more…”

“Don’t worry – we’ll be leaving in a bit, anyways, so we wouldn’t be able to do much. Ah! I just remembered – if we’re gone by the time you’re finished, there’s food in the fridge.”

“Is it chicken again?”

“Pork dumplings.”

“Ooh, tasty.”

“Now go work. You can do this!”

Eduard waved. “We’ll see you next week, Oska.”

“Bye, guys,” Oskars said.

Oskars stepped into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. Toris leaned back into the couch.

“Are you hungry?” he asked Eduard.

“Yes,” Eduard said. “I’ve been looking forward to your pancakes all week, you know.”

“Ah, thanks, Ed. Okay – I’ll put these towels away, and then I’ll get started cooking.”

Sometimes, working in the Department was tiring. But it was much, much easier to manage with Oskars and Eduard with him.

___

The arcade was warm when Toris and Eduard entered it again. Toris almost wished he had chosen different clothes. He wore a green shirt with loose jeans to “blend in” with the youth. And he did blend in… but he was also starting to sweat, too.

Wearing a tank top, though, would have been impossible. Underneath his button down, Toris wore his identification lanyard from the Department of Magical Emergencies. He’d be ready to show it when they finally got the chance to arrest Felix Łukasiewicz.

Only a few other people stood in the arcade. Most of them were playing the games closest to the entrance. But at the back of the arcade, two familiar people bustled around Alley Warriors.

“Good game, Felix!” Matthias shouted.

“Thanks!”

Felix Łukasiewicz sat right in front of the arcade machine. Toris could tell just from his voice that he was smirking. He leaned back in his chair lazily with his red hoodie unzipped, looking like had no worries in the world. He probably didn’t have any – not if he was really a wizarding criminal.

Toris approached the two of them. He knew he had to greet Felix – he just didn’t know the best way to do it. Did he greet Felix? Or did he wait until Felix acknowledged him?

Before he could decide, Matthias glanced behind him. His face lit up with a bright grin.

“Hey, Ed!” Matthias shouted.

Good – they had an opening now. Eduard tipped his head in greeting. “Hi, Matthias.”

“Nice to see ya again! Felix and I are playing some Alley Warriors – that game from last time – if ya wanna watch.”

“We’d love to,” Eduard said.

“Ah, that’d be great,” Toris added.

As they gathered around the machine, Felix turned around, too, to look at them.

“Oh, hey,” he said, nodding at Toris.

Toris gave a short wave. “Ah— hey.”

Agh – it was awkward! So awkward! Even after Toris had had a week to prepare, Łukasiewicz’s green eyes were still just too much! Toris had to use all his willpower to focus on the screen. Ah… as long as Eduard was there, he could still manage…

“Whew, I’m beat! Hey, Felix – ‘m gonna take a break for a bit, okay?” Matthias said. He stood up from his chair and yawned.

“Sure,” Felix replied.

“I’m gonna work... Oh, hey – Eduard! Ya said you’re interested in woodworking, right? Wanna watch me work on these chairs?”

“If you’d be willing to have me there, then yes,” Eduard said.

“Yeah! Come on over!”

Toris nearly collapsed.

Wait, wait, no!

But it would be too suspicious to say anything, and so –

Matthias and Eduard walked over to the other side of the arcade, leaving him alone with Felix Łukasiewicz.

Just his luck.

“Hey, you should watch me play,” Felix said. “I’m running through that play from last week.”

“Ah! How is it working for you?”

Toris sat in Matthias’s old chair as Felix leaned towards the arcade machine. “It’s going amazing. I totally kicked Matthias’s ass with it."

“Congratulations!”

“Yeah, thanks! It’s super easy. I just mash this button, and I go, like, boom! And pow! And bam! And I just rush him completely. It’s really fun.”

Felix grinned at the screen. He was selecting his character from the game’s entire roster. Like last time, he chose the fighter – which made Toris think. “Ah… I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

For a supposed criminal mastermind, Felix was very open to feedback. Almost too open. Still, Toris kept his tone polite as he asked. “What happens if your opponent is just as fast as you?”

Felix hummed. “That’s what I’m figuring out right now. So, like… hold on.”

Toris watched as the game started. Felix’s fighter was paired up against another character he hadn’t seen before. Before the other character could attack, Felix paused the game. A menu with many options appeared. Felix selected the last of the options, and just like that, the game displayed a list of many different symbols.

“Okay, you see this list of codes?”

“Yes...?”

“These are all the combos I can use in the game. It’s like… I can use multiple moves in one go. They take a lot more time to do, but they’re also way more powerful.”

It’s like the Wizarding Tournament, Toris realized. A flicker of nostalgia ran through him as he remembered all the long nights he had spent practicing earth magic spells. “Ah.”

“So, right now, I need to like, figure out how I can string them together to get the most damage possible… hm. Hey, wait a second.” Felix turned to him. “Dude, you should totally fight me.”

Toris blinked.

“In the game?”

“Yeah!”

“Wait – I can do that?”

“Mhm! You just use the buttons over there.” Felix pointed to a set of buttons next to his. “Ooh, yeah, you should totally play with me!”

“Ah… I’ve never played an arcade video game before,” Toris said haltingly.

“That’s fine. I can show you all my secret strategies and stuff.” Felix threw him a wink. “But, like… if you just want to chill, that’s okay, too. You can watch me destroy this guy. Ooh, and if you want, you can give me tips like last time.”

Toris hesitated. Competing with anyone was the last thing he wanted to do, especially after the disaster of his last Wizarding Tournament. But if it meant that he could talk to Łukasiewicz… then he would just suck it up.

“It’d be fun to try out one match,” Toris said.

“Ooh, heck yeah!” Felix said. “I’ll set everything up. Welcome to the club.”

Toris took a deep breath.

Well. He'd do his best.

He sat down next to Felix, then looked at the buttons. “Where do I start?”

“Okay… first thing’s first, you’re gonna select your character from this screen,” Felix said. He pressed a button, and the character selection screen reappeared. A roster of buff, muscled, and shirtless fighters yelled and flexed on screen.

Toris blinked. “How do you know who to choose?”

“So, each of these characters has different stats. Some have more attack, some have more stamina, and some are just super bulky, like this dude… this is gonna be a lot, so just stay with me, okay?”

Felix explained the entire game. Toris had to use all his energy to pay attention. Every time Felix wiped his hair away from his eyes, Toris’s breath caught in his throat. It was hard to ask follow up questions when he couldn’t speak. Thankfully, Felix didn’t really seem to notice. He was too busy explaining. There were dozens and dozens of “stats” and moves to remember. Still, overwhelming as it was, a twinge of excitement ran through Toris as he considered his strategy.

In the end, Toris chose a burly fighter who supposedly had a “sick grappler moveset”. It was a completely different fighting style from the one he used at the Wizarding Tournaments, but he thought learning it wouldn’t hurt.

“Okay, I’m gonna start a round for us now,” Felix said. “Just get used to the controls and stuff, okay? And I’ll practice these moves on you.”

“Right,” Toris nodded. He leaned forward to ready himself. It was time for him to learn everything that he could.

Felix pressed a button. Their characters dropped from the sky into a brick alleyway strewn with litter. Trash cans overflowing with fly-infested garbage bags stood to their left and their right.

“How do I move him?” Toris asked.

“With the joystick,” Felix said. “Like this. See?”

Felix shifted the stick. His character danced around Toris’s. Toris did the same. Soon, their characters both danced around each other.

“Ah! Thank you… and how do I attack?”

“With those two buttons. The first is a punch, and the second is a kick. Try it out.”

Felix backed up his character as Toris made his character punch at the air. He squinted at the screen. Attacking with delay like this was strange. At the Wizarding Tournaments, he was used to having most of his attacks manifest as soon as he waved his wand. “Ah… I see.”

“Mhm! Watch this!”

Felix inched his character in front of Toris’s. He tapped the buttons, and then – boom! His character suplexed Toris’s characer across the screen.

“So fast!” Toris muttered

“That was a special attack,” Felix said. “It’s super powerful, but it also takes a lot of stamina. See that yellow bar beneath your HP?” Felix pointed. “That’s your stamina bar. You can’t use any more special attacks when that runs out.”

“H…P?” Toris repeated.

“Hit points!” Felix said. “When you run out of those, you die. Like this. Just watch.”

Felix’s character punched Toris’s character again and again. With each hit, the HP bar went lower and lower, until finally, the last hit emptied it entirely. Toris’s character flopped to the ground.

“K.O.!” The game screamed.

“And that’s how you win,” Felix said. “You just have to beat the crap out of the other guy until they have no more HP. It’s kinda like one of those Wizarding Tournaments on TV, where they fight each other until they don’t have any more magic left.”

Oh, didn’t Toris know about that. “I... think I understand,” he said. “How about we play a real match now?”

“Ooh, you’re ready to enter the ring?”

“More than ready.”

“Mm, game on,” Felix said, smirking.

Toris leaned back in his chair as Felix started the match.

Right.

It was game time.

A jaunty fighting song rang out as their characters began dancing around each other. Immediately, Felix’s character tried to flip behind his. Toris backed up. When Felix approached him again, he lingered back, hoping that Felix took the bait. Felix rushed at him – but he was too quick. Toris jumped over him and unleashed a fury of punches. His character oofed in pain.

Felix yelped.

“Oh, you’re seriously going down,” he said.

“You can try your best,” Toris said, just as he landed a special attack on Felix’s character.

“Gah! That was seriously dirty!”

Toris held back a victorious chuckle. “Ah, that was just—”

Competition, he almost said, but he stopped himself. Agh. He couldn’t get overconfident again.

“—luck,” he finished.

“Uh, yeah, no kidding,” Felix huffed. “But watch this.”

They went blow for blow, exchanging rapid fire punches and kicks until, finally, Toris lost, and Felix won – but just barely.

“Ooh, good game!” Matthias shouted. He was passing behind them to head to the minifridge.

Toris sighed. “Thank you,” he said simply. He was still too slow to hit all the buttons in time, but he thought he was decent enough. For now.

Felix huffed. “Yeah, gg,” he said. “That was seriously impressive for your first time.”

Toris tilted his head to the side. "G-g?”

“It means good game. It’s slang for us gamers.”

“Ahh."

“Wanna play another?” Felix asked.

“I’m ready when you are,” he said.

“Bring it.”

Soon, Toris was completely immersed in Alley Warriors. He had to be if he wanted to counter Felix. Felix preferred to hit hard and fast. If he couldn’t, he would dodge aggressively until he could throw the opponent off balance, and then he would hit them again. To throw him off, Toris tried the reverse: he tried to shield himself, and he tried to use an array of special attacks that Felix couldn’t counter. But he needed to develop his hand-eye coordination more to accomplish that. In the first couple of games, he lost more times than he could count.

He didn’t mind, though. Each punch that he threw and each kick that he dodged filled him with energy. It had been years since he had been able to think like this, and now that he was… he was almost having something close to fun.

“Ah, I understand why so many people come here to play these games,” Toris said.

The comment just slipped out of his mouth unexpectedly. His concentration had wavered, which made sense – they had just started their fifteenth round. Felix had caught onto his strategy, and he was backing up to avoid any hits. They were both parrying away from each other in a digital game of chicken.

“Yeah?” Felix asked.

Toris nodded. “It’s engaging.”

“Yeah, it totally is,” Felix said. He walked his character back and forth, back and forth on screen. He was getting a little distracted. “There are like, a ton of regulars that come here.”

“Ah, that’s wonderful.”

“Yeah!”

Felix was getting distracted and volunteering personal information, too? The stars were aligning. It was the perfect time to start asking questions.

“Who are they?” Toris asked.

“Oh, let’s see…” Felix hummed. “Okay, you’ve met Matthias. Then there’s Leon, and his sister, Mei, and their other friend, Erland, but I don’t really see him that often ‘cause he’s busy with school.” Toris blinked. Was that the same Leon who was friends with Emil? “But yeah. We’re like, pretty tight-knit.”

“I see,” Toris said. “Ah… it sounds nice, to hang out with your friends all day.”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Felix sighed. “That’s why I, like, love it here. I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

Felix’s tone was fond. For a split second, Toris chanced a glance at him. In the glow of the arcade machine, Felix looked soft. Kind.

It didn’t look like Felix was baiting him. It was impossible to fake a look like that. Toris tried his best to settle the strange feeling in his chest as he asked another question. “How long have you been here?”

“Hm… about, like, three months, maybe? Not that long, but it feels like forever."

And that, too, was strange. Three months? That was when the anonymous wizards had started sending him the letters.

Just what was going on with this person?

He didn’t want Felix to figure anything out, though, so he changed the subject.

“Felix,” Toris said quietly.

Felix yawned. “What’s up?”

“Look out.”

And Toris unleashed a combo of attacks on him.

“Gah!” Felix screamed.

Felix put up a good fight, but it was no match. The damage kept piling up. By the time Felix broke out of Toris’s stranglehold, it was no use. Toris’s character had too much HP. Felix lost… and Toris won his first fight.

And it felt good.

Toris tried his best to hold back a smile, but it was no use. A small one slipped out anyways.

“What? Darn!” Felix huffed. “Oh my gosh, that was my bad. I seriously got distracted… good game! You really wiped me out.”

“G-g, Felix,” Toris said.

Felix laughed.

“What’s funny?” Toris asked.

“Oh my gosh. It’s just the way you’re saying it.” Felix laughed again. “It’s, like, one word. Geegee. You’re saying it like it’s two letters.”

“Gee-gee…?”

“Kinda better, but still off. It’s cute, though,” Felix said.

Toris’s heart pounded. “Ah…?!”

How was he supposed to respond to a wizarding criminal mastermind complimenting him? Did he say thank you?!

But before he could answer, someone poked Felix’s shoulder. “Yo! Felix!”

Felix craned his neck back. “What’s up?”

“I gotta head home soon,” Matthias said. “Are you okay ta close shop by yourself?”

“Oh, yeah, totally! Just, like, leave the keys on the door hook,” Felix said. He looked down at Toris, then back at the door. “Gimme a second. I gotta, like, shut everything down for the night,” he said, and he stood up – as if nothing had ever happened.

Toris’s head was spinning. Just be normal, he told himself. “It’s closing time already?”

“Yup!” Matthias shouted. “It’s 12 AM.”

“Ah?!”

As Felix walked away, Toris also grabbed his jacket and stood up. How had that much time passed so quickly?

“Time flies, doesn’t it?”

Eduard had walked over to him. He was rubbing his eyes and sighing – a rare sight for Eduard von Bock.

“That was fantastic,” he murmured.

“Did you have fun playing?” Toris asked.

Eduard nodded. “I did,” he said. He cracked a smile. “I managed to win five games, too, if you can believe it.”

“Five! That’s great!”

Eduard smiled a little wider. “I’ve played video games before, so I had a leg up when figuring out the controls. I’ll have to practice more, though.”

“Well, there’ll be more time for that.”

Eduard raised an eyebrow. “Meaning…?”

Toris glanced at Felix. “I can come back next week,” he said.

Recognition of the unspoken message flickered across Eduard’s face. He nodded. “So can I,” he said.

Putting on their coats to leave was an incredibly strange experience. On the one hand, Toris didn’t want to leave this arcade with its magically fun games. On the other hand, he had to get some space from Felix to think about everything that had happened that night. Felix was nonchalant – he powered down the machines and pushed in the chairs, humming to himself all the while. Either he was simply the most composed wizarding criminal mastermind in the world… or he really had nothing to do with the letters.

Or Toris was just getting biased.

With their coats on, he and Eduard approached the door.

Eduard waved over at Matthias. “Thank you, Mat,” Eduard said.

Matthias gave them a bright grin and wave. “See ya next time!”

“Oh! Wait a second!”

Felix came running from the back of the room with a broom in his hands. He stopped in front of the two of them.

“Hey, thanks for playing today.”

“You’re welcome. I had a lot of fun.”

“Same! I’m here, like, every day if you wanna play again.”

“Ah! I’ll see when I can make it.”

There was a moment where he and Felix just stared at each other. Felix opened his mouth slightly. Words were forming in his mouth – but then Toris saw Eduard step over the threshold out of the corner of his eye, and he knew it was time to leave. “It was nice playing with you,” he said.

Felix nodded. “See ya.”

But as he was leaving—

Toris saw something fly over Eduard’s shoulder.

Not just one thing.

A barrage of letters.

They all hovered in the doorframe. Leading the charge was the red-tongued letter, who chirped cheerfully at Toris.

Toris froze.

“Oh, dear,” Eduard said.

The letter yowled.

And all at once, it barreled into the arcade.

The swarm of letters flooded the arcade. They slammed into the machines and tangled themselves into the Christmas lights. They knocked into the bar, spilling soda all over the floor. Screams burst into the air.

The onslaught of letters was unavoidable. Toris slammed Eduard into the side of the machines to avoid them.

“Shit, sorry, Ed!”

Eduard hissed. “It's fine. But how in the world did they get here?!”

“Oh, this is bad.” Toris almost felt like vomiting. “But – ah, Ed, in the back!”

The letters had swarmed Matthias. They lunged at his hair and his shirt.

“Felix, throw me the fire extinguisher!” Matthias screamed.

The bottom of Matthias’s pants had caught fire.

Toris grabbed his pepper spray. Without thinking, he blitzed the nearest letter, then the next. A group turned to scream at him. “We’re coming, Matthias!”

Eduard pulled out his wand, too. They had to get to Matthias. They had to –

“Oh my god, not these guys again!”

Felix stood in the middle of the chaos, broom still in his hand. He rubbed his nose. “God… can’t you guys just leave me alone?!” he cried.

And with surprising force, he lifted the broom that he had been using to sweep just moments before and swung it in the air.

“Hey, watch it! You’re ruining my arcade!”

The broom trembled. The bristles glowed green. Like a wand. Like earth magic.

Toris's eyes widened.

Sparks of magic spat out of it. Toris shoved Eduard behind him, but he couldn’t look away. And then –

KABOOM.

A white-green arc of magic exploded out of the broom. Toris just barely managed to push him and Eduard to the floor as the magic hit the letters, then all the arcade machines in the room.

The letters froze in mid-air. They gurgled. They mewled. Their paper bodies stiffened, then turned yellow, and then brown, until finally, their edges crumpled inwards. Flecks of decaying black paper fell off them – until, finally, the entire swarm shuddered –

And disintegrated into pulp.

The arcade machines went haywire. They replayed their animations over and over again.

Felix stood in the middle of the room, shaking. He was pale, like all the life force had been drained out of him. Because it had been. Toris recognized that magic. It was the same magic he had used for his entire competitive life. The same magic that made him a wizard.

It happened all at once. Felix turned to smile at him, and Toris lunged at him –

To pin him straight to the back wall.

Felix choked. They were so close, their faces were nearly twitching. Matthias was yelling in the background, and Eduard was saying something, too, but Toris only cared about the complete and utter shock in Felix’s eyes.

“I knew it,” Toris breathed.

Even after everything that happened, he couldn't believe he was still so shockingly naïve. There was no other ending to this scenario.

Of course Felix was the criminal.

He was so, so angry. For years he had wanted to use magic again. He spent hours staring at his ceiling praying that the gift would come back to him. Felix Łukasiewicz had the gift of magic for free, without any baggage – and he chose to use it to hurt people. Didn’t he know just how lucky he was?!

He tensed, waiting for Felix to yelp, or cast some sort of spell. Instead, Felix just looked into his eyes. Eternities passed by in the burning summer air.

Felix cleared his throat.

“Um, listen… I know you think I’m cute as hell, but let’s, like, get some dinner first.”

“…What?”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think you’re cute, too. But we’d have way more energy if we ate something first.”

“What—what are you talking about?”

Felix’s tone was so casual that he almost lost his composure. His grip loosened a bit. Toris thought that Felix would try to break free. But he just continued staring at him.

“Wait, aren’t you, like, jumping my bones because I totally saved you back there?” Felix asked.

Toris was so shocked that he just stared at Felix.

“What? No! I’m—” at this, he remembered what he was doing, and he retightened his grip on Felix. Felix yelped. “I’m Toris Laurinaitis, secretary for the Department of Magic Emergencies, and I’m arresting you for your criminal activity!”

Felix’s face was genuinely baffled. “Huh?”

“The letters!” Toris shouted.

He looked back at the ashes. In spite of everything, there was one letter remaining… the letter that had started the whole mess.

Great.

How the thing survived, Toris had no idea. For once, he was glad it did. It was coughing and spitting up debris. “Ed! Hand me the letter, please!”

Eduard handed the letter off to him. Toris grabbed it, then held it right in front of Felix’s face. “You’re Felix Łukasiewicz!”

Felix read the letter. His face went still… and then, slowly, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Wait – wait, wait, wait –” Felix coughed. He squinted. “Okay, wait, wait, wait, is this spelled Felix? Like, F-E-L-I-X? That—that Felix?”

“Yes!"

“Wait, hold on, hold on, wait—” Felix dug in his back pocket. Toris instinctively reached for his wand – it wasn’t there, so he pulled out his pepper spray and aimed it at Felix.

“Wait!” Felix pleaded. “Look at this. Seriously, just look at this!”

“Eduard!” Toris shouted.

But before Eduard pull out his wand, Felix pulled out –

His government ID.

It had a picture of Felix, blond and grinning. It glowed with government certified identification magic.

“Look at my name,” the blond man pleaded. “What is it? Actually, no – how does it spell my name?!”

Toris read it. His anger morphed into confusion, and then... dismay.

Toris’s eyes shot back to Felix.

“…F-E-L-I-K-S?” He said incredulously.

The blond man nodded furiously.

“Yeah,” Feliks Łukasiewicz gasped out. “F-E-L-I-X Łukasiewicz is my uncle.”

Chapter Text

“Your uncle?” Toris repeated.

“Yeah!” Feliks said.

Feliks had stilled completely under his hands. He spoke with such conviction that Toris’s gut was tempted to believe him.

The logical part of him, though, kept one hand firmly fixed on Feliks’s shoulder.

The letter in his other hand was getting in the way, so he tucked it into his pants pocket and used his newly freed hand to secure Feliks’s other shoulder.

“Where’s his identification, then?” Toris asked.

“Hold on— I, like, have it in my room – I can totally go grab it if you need to see it.”

They had nothing to lose at this point. Toris nodded his head at Eduard. “Ed?”

“I’ll take him,” Eduard said.

Toris released Feliks to Eduard, who secured him with a pair of magical handcuffs.

“Just in case,” Eduard clarified. “Could you take me to your room, then?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Feliks said.

The two of them rushed to the back of the bar, with Feliks leading the way. Feliks gestured for Eduard to open a door in the corner. Once it was open, they ascended a set of stairs glowing with the same pink neon lights that decorated the arcade.

Feliks walked with his head lifted high and his back held straight. Was it really possible, Toris wondered, for him to be telling the truth?

He didn’t have to wonder for long. A few minutes later, Eduard and Feliks came bounding down the stairs. Toris released his breath – thank God Eduard was safe. He scanned Eduard’s face as the two stepped over the burnt letters to get back to him. Eduard’s eyes were wide with astonishment.

“Okay— this is his card,” Feliks said.

Eduard nodded. He held up the small rectangle of plastic.

“Well… it’s here,” Eduard said.

Heart pounding, Toris leaned in to examine the card.

An older blond man smirked back at him. His hair was wavier than Feliks’s hair. His forehead was a little lower, too. But he had the same high cheekbones and sharp, sharp nose. And his name…

“See?” Feliks said. “Look.”

“…F-E-L-I-X,” Toris murmured.

Felix Łukasiewicz.

Same last name. Same face. And same government identification magic.

Maybe, in another universe, this information would have actually surprised him into feeling some sort of shock response.

Instead, Toris accepted it.

This was just the newest incident in a long series of events that confirmed life was absurd.

It wasn’t terrible. Absurdity made life real.

It was just baffling.

“How is this possible?” Toris asked. The Department would never let him rest if he didn’t recount the entire story of this wild goose chase.

“Okay, maybe we should, like, sit down for this one,” Feliks said.

At this point, I’d love to lay down, too, Toris thought. Instead, he said, “Ah, I don’t think there’s anywhere we can…”

Toris looked around the arcade. Smoldering piles of letters covered the floor. People leaned against the walls to cough, or they staggered outside into the humid night, where they clumped together. Toris couldn’t hear their exact words, but he could pick up enough of their tone to know that they were frazzled.

“Ah— Ed? Could you go around to check on everyone while I talk with Feliks?”

Eduard nodded. “Yes, of course.”

There were so many worried people outside. Toris had to use all his strength to root himself to the arcade. “We’ll stay here.”

Eduard began to leave, but Feliks leaned towards him. “Hey, wait – I need to like, check on Matthias, too.”

Eduard shook his head. “I’ll look for him.”

Feliks frowned. “I, like, seriously need to see if his legs are okay.”

“Don’t worry,” Toris said. “Eduard will find Matthias.”

“Yeah, but Mat’s, like, my friend, and he works for my arcade—so I have to check on him.”

Toris still shook his head.

“You can check on him later,” Toris said. “Ed, just go.”

Feliks pursed his lips as Eduard made his way around the arcade.

“This is my entire life,” he protested.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Toris said, genuinely. “You check on Matthias – and everyone else – later.” He kept his tone gentle, but firm. He would have reacted the same way if the cursed letters had hurt Oskars. “For now, I have to ask you some questions for the Department of Magical Emergencies.”

Feliks huffed. Finally, he just nodded. “Okay, yeah. I can tell you the whole thing.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Feliks said. “Let’s, like, take a seat.”

They sat down on the wooden floors. Toris sat with his legs crossed while Feliks stretched his legs out in front of him.

“So, I’m guessing the handcuffs come off once I’ve told you the whole story?” Feliks asked.

“Right.”

“’kay,” Feliks said, sighing. For someone who was being questioned by a government official, he looked incredibly calm. “Blegh. What a day.”

Toris nodded. Always.

Feliks rested his hands in his lap. With that, he looked at Toris.

“Okay, so, like – I didn’t grow up with uncle Felix,” he began.

“What do you mean?”

“I just never saw him. Mama hated him, and Tata hated him, too. So they just never invited him over to family holidays. The only time I ever met him was apparently at my christening, but I don’t remember that, either, because I was like, just born.”

“Why did they hate him?” Toris asked.

Feliks shrugged. “Apparently, he was just a total jackass. I tried asking, but they would only tell me that he left home to live in the city.”

Toris blew out a breath. “And home is…?”

“In the countryside,” Feliks said.

Toris held back a smile. It reminded him of his grandmother’s house. “It’s a nice place.”

“Mm, yeah.”

“Ah, then… how did you find him again?”

Here, Feliks stretched his arms out. “Basically, a year ago, I left home. I wanted to, like, live in the city,” he said quickly. Like he wanted to get rid of the subject as quickly as possible. “I wanted to have my own place so I could just do what I wanted. But living without roommates was too expensive, so what the heck was I supposed to do? Well, I remembered uncle Felix lived here, so I asked around about him. That’s how I met Matthias. He was, like, looking for places to rent for his woodworking studio, and he told me about this old bar that was on sale because the old owner didn’t have anyone who could take it over. And that’s how I learned that uncle Felix died.”

“Jeez,” Toris breathed.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry… even if he was just a distant relative.”

Feliks smiled a bit. “Thanks. Seriously, though, it’s okay. I really knew nothing about him.”

“Do you know what he did?”

“I mean, I know he was definitely selling weird stuff to college students. I found a ton of stuff in bags when I first got here. But Matthias and I just threw it all out,” Feliks said.

“What about the wizards…?”

Feliks shrugged. “No idea.”

It was such an unbelievable story. But Feliks’s eyes were so clear that Toris didn’t doubt that he was telling the truth. After considering him for a little longer, Toris sighed.

“It’s incredible that you fended them off for so long,” he said.

Feliks smiled. “That’s because I’m really good with the energy now.”

Toris blinked. Energy…?

“…Do you mean your magic?” he asked.

“Huh? Wait, is that what that is?”

“Yes,” Toris said. “The energy that you used to wilt those letters was earth magic.”

“Seriously?! Oh my gosh,” Feliks said. “That’s incredible.”

Was Feliks being serious? “What did you think it was?”

“I mean, I just always thought I was naturally strong.” Feliks paused for a second. “Actually… okay, I knew something strange was happening whenever I used it to play games. Sometimes, I think I can use my energy to make my characters move faster. But I thought that I had, like, super fast reflexes, and good Internet, too, so I just ignored it.”

“Incredible,” Toris breathed out.

It was strange that such a naturally strong wizard wouldn’t know anything about his own powers… but then again, it was unusual for most people to know about the Wizarding Tournaments in the first place. Toris was lucky that his parents earned enough money to pay for his wizarding lessons when he was younger. What, he wondered, could Feliks have done by now if he had lessons at that age, too…?

Toris let out a breath. After a moment, he looked back over at Felix. “You said the letters have been here before, right?” he asked. “How long ago did they start coming here?”

“We got some, like, two months ago. But there were only three of them – and Matthias chased them out before they could do anything.”

“Ah! I started getting them around the same time.”

“No way.”

Toris nodded. “Someone has been sending them to the Department of Magical Emergencies.”

“Seriously?!”

“Yes. It’s not just you.”

Feliks shook his head. “Oh my god, those guys are determined.”

“Ah, they’re a major hassle.”

Feliks sighed in relief. “Man, I’m so glad you guys got here when you did. I could not have handled another two months of those guys. I would have tried to attack them all or something.”

Oh, if only Toris still had the same ability. Well… he might not have had the strength for that. But he did have the determination to stop the anonymous wizards. With that, he fixed Feliks with a serious look. “Ah… I have a favor to ask you, if you don’t mind.”

“What’s up? If it’s yelling at those wizards, then yeah, I’ll totally do it.”

“Ah – no, no, it’s not that! It’d be difficult and dangerous to track them down. But, if you want to help… could you please write a letter to the wizards explaining that your uncle is dead?” Toris asked. He knew that it was a strange request to make, especially since the wizards were anonymous, so he quickly filled Feliks in on the rest of the information. “I’m not sure how I would find them yet. But when I do find them, I think your explanation could convince them to stop sending the letters…”

Feliks puffed up his chest. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get to, like, tell them off for ruining my arcade.”

Toris’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you!” he said. “But please don’t pick a fight with them. I don’t know what they could do to you.” Or me.

“But they’re so rude!” Feliks huffed.

“They were only rude because they thought you were your uncle…”

“Mmph, I guess,” Feliks said. “Anyways, what should I say? ‘Hey, my uncle F-E-L-I-X is dead, so stop sending these nasty letters?’”

“That works – if you write with more formal language.”

“K-k.”

Toris nodded.

There was nothing else he needed to ask about, so he let their conversation fall into a lull. He nearly leaned his head against the wall, too, but he didn’t do it. He couldn’t let his guard down… even though he was so very tired.

Even if he couldn’t rest yet, he was glad that everything was over. Now that he had finally solved his problem with “Felix Łukasiewicz”, he could go back to his stable job in his boring – but stable – life, and he never had to see Feliks Łukasiewicz again.

For some reason…

…the thought made him sad.

“Hey, want a soda?” Feliks asked.

Toris blinked.

“Ah… no thank you,” he said. “But thank you for asking.” As much as he wanted to like Feliks, accepting a drink from a stranger in a strange place was never a good decision.

“You’re sure?” Feliks asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m gonna grab one,” Feliks said. He stood up, then walked to the debris-covered bar.

A few minutes later, he came back with two 3 liter bottles – both unreadable because of the dust that coated them.

“Fanta and Sprite are my favorites,” Feliks said. With a grin, he leaned against the wall and opened the bottle of Fanta.

Toris’s eyes widened. “You’re drinking the whole thing?”

“The letter melted all the cups,” Feliks explained.

“Ah…”

Feliks swung his Fanta bottle towards him.

“Zdrowie,” Feliks said.

Toris hesitated. Again, it was never a good idea to drink with a stranger…

…But in this case, he thought it wouldn’t hurt to be a little friendly.

After a moment, he swung an invisible cup of soda back at Feliks.

“Į sveikatą,” Toris added

“Woo!” Feliks said. And he swigged his soda in the middle of the burning arcade.

And as Toris took a swig of his own invisible soda, he couldn’t help the small, wistful smile that came to his face.

___

The days after the arcade incident were filled with a massive backlog of paperwork and phone calls. Every evening, Toris settled in Eduard’s office for damage control. While Eduard tracked down the anonymous wizards and fixed their favorite letter’s former cage, Toris documented everything that happened for the Department of Magical Emergencies. Occasionally, he also answered phone calls from Feliks, who called to ask about filing for insurance for the arcade’s damaged equipment.

Even though he was always in contact with Eduard and Feliks, Toris didn’t have time to chat with them. They were only ever working. But he felt better that way. He had detoured too much from his work over the past few weeks. He needed to focus on what really mattered.

On Tuesday, Feliks sent Eduard the letter he wrote for the anonymous wizards. He included two copies of his uncle’s death records, too. Toris’s gaze lingered on Feliks’s curly cursive address line for just a second. Then he slid the envelope into his file folder for the Department of Magical Emergencies.

___

Toris went into the office early on Wednesday morning. At 7:00 AM, Vargas and Williams hadn’t clocked in yet, so the only sounds on the floor were the coffee maker percolating and the air conditioner humming. Toris appreciated the silence, though. It helped him concentrate while he reported the entire series of events in front of Jones’s desk.

“…and that’s what happened with Feliks Łukasiewicz, sir,” Toris finished.

Jones slid Toris’s file folder to the side. “Wild stuff,” he said, laughing a bit. “But man, that was great work you did out there. You’re the real deal, you know that?”

Toris rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s thanks to your support, Mr. Jones.”

“Nah, dude, you did that all on your own.”

Toris gave a wan smile. “Thank you.”

“And you already sent the report out to Artie?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve sent everything.”

“Man, Laurinaitis – you’ve been working your ass off!”

Toris nodded. Really, he didn’t think he was putting in any extra effort – it was just normal. And there was always more to do. “Is there anything more that we have to do, sir?”

Jones blinked. “Well… there’s these,” he said. He gestured to a stack of papers towering over his desk. “But we can start them next week.”

“I can start them today, Mr. Jones,” Toris said.

Jones furrowed his brow. “You sure?” he asked. “I mean, dude, feel free to take it easy for a bit—”

At that moment, Jones’s rotary phone rang. His face darkened when he saw the number.

“Artie again?” he said. “Man, this guy… sorry, Laurinaitis, I’ve gotta take this. Seriously, don’t touch those papers if you don’t want to—”

“No, no, I can work, Mr. Jones. It’ll clear my head,” Toris said.

Jones picked up the phone. “You’re a good guy, Laurinaitis,” he mouthed – before a stream of expletives came out of the phone.

“Alfred, you are such a bollocksed wanker—"

“Hey, Artie, it's nice to hear from you, too!”

With that, Toris picked up the stack of papers and guided them back to his desk.

Ah.

Back to his boring life.

___

Resuming his work life meant receiving his so, so stable paycheck. Which meant…

…finally taking Eduard and Oskars to their favorite Chinese restaurant in the University district.

“Ah, everyone is so young…!” Toris whispered.

The restaurant hummed with the conversations of university students wearing big t-shirts and baggy jeans. Groups of them sat at the tables to savor fried rice in white takeout containers.

“That’s because they’re all my age,” Oskars said.

“I guess we’re old now, huh…?” Toris sighed.

“Yup,” Oskars confirmed.

The three of them filed into a table close to the counter. Each table had a menu on it, and Toris flipped through his slowly. Most of them were recipes that he could have cooked at his apartment, but some were entirely new to him. The restaurant had updated the dishes since the last time he ate there. In the end, he went with his favorite.

“I’ll eat the chicken chow mein,” he said. “Ed?”

Eduard folded up his menu. “The chicken fried rice sounds delicious.”

“Got it. Oska?”

“Wow, you guys order fast,” Oska said. “Hm… I’ll take the sweet and sour pork.”

Toris stood up. “Don’t worry – I’ll order.”

“Thank you,” Eduard said.

Oskars slid his menu to the center of the table. “Thanks.”

Toris filed into line behind a group of college students. On another day, their conversation might have made him smile, too… but that night, he only went quiet. They wore their baggy jeans and well-worn sneakers so casually. Meanwhile, he spent too much time at work worrying if his coworkers noticed the threads fraying on his black business jacket. Did these college students notice his fraying jacket, too?

No. He was still just too worked up after the arcade incident. Toris squeezed his wallet in his pocket. He didn’t have to look out for the cursed letters anymore… so he didn’t have to think so much about everything happening around him.

Still, Toris couldn’t help but observe Oskars and Eduard as he sat back down at their table.

“It went well, then?” Eduard asked.

“Yup!” Oskars beamed.

“What went well?” Toris asked. He slid his suit jacket off, revealing his white button down underneath.

“My classmates loved my poem,” Oskars said.

“Ah! Congratulations, Oska!”

“Thanks,” Oskars said. “I knew they would.”

“Why’s that?” Eduard asked.

“I do a lot of interesting stuff with the typography and the meter,” Oskars said. “And actually, your advice from the other weekend helped a lot, too, Ed.”

“I’m glad I could be of service,” Eduard said. He raised his Styrofoam cup of tea up in a toast.

Oskars toasted him back with a cup of water. “But really, I think I’m ahead of my time.”

“Ah, Oska, don’t get cocky,” Toris jumped in. “It’s smart to stay humble.”

“But I am. Ahead of my time, I mean.”

Toris leveled a firm look at him. “Still.”

Oskars huffed. “Emil liked it,” he protested.

Eduard hummed. “Emil is your friend who wants to work on a farm after he graduates, yes?”

“Yeah,” Oskars said. “And that’s how I know I’m good, because Emil normally hates avant-garde poetry, but he likes mine.”

Oskars smiled with unusual softness at his last sentence. While he sipped at his water, Toris glanced over at Eduard, who raised an eyebrow. Did Oskars like Emil? Toris wasn’t sure. He had met Emil once before when Oskars invited him over, but they’d just seemed like good friends. He’d have to figure everything out with Eduard later. For now, he would just encourage Oskars’s writing career as much as he could.

“Well, I’m happy… but try to stay on your toes with these things,” Toris finally said.

“Yup,” Oskars said, which Toris knew really meant sure, old man. “Oh, yeah, by the way—are you two busy in two months?”

“Ah, maybe… why?” Toris asked.

“I’m gonna submit my poem to the undergraduate writing contest. If I win, the department will let me read it at the end of the semester award ceremony.”

“Of course, Oska,” Toris said. “I’ll be there.” He’d try his hardest to take off from work.

“I’ll block out my schedule when we get back,” Eduard said.

Oskars smiled. “Thanks. It’s gonna be great.”

The bell at the front counter rang. Toris looked over. The cashier was placing their meals – savory-smelling and glistening with saucy goodness – on three trays.

“Ah, I’ll go get it,” Toris said.

His steaming plate of chicken chow mein made him salivate. After he placed their plates on the table, not even a second had passed by before Oskars and Eduard started devouring everything.

“Mm, takeout is so good,” Oskars sighed. He was so happy that he chewed with his mouth open.

“Your mouth, Oska,” Toris said.

Oskars swallowed. “Oh – sorry. It’s just so tasty.”

“Well,” Eduard said, “when you win the poetry award, I’ll treat you to dinner again.”

Oskars laughed. “Ooh, I’m going to eat so much sweet and sour pork…”

“Eat all you want.”

“We should get frozen yogurt, too. Ooh, and soda…”

Ah, be careful with Eduard’s money, Oska, Toris almost said – but he held his words back. If Oskars did win the contest, he would deserve a reward like that. Toris would be a terrible brother if he tried to dampen Oskars’ celebration.

He just had so much fretful and antsy energy that he had to let it out somehow. And it was because he was thinking – thinking again, of all things, about Feliks Łukasiewicz and his forest-green burst of earth magic. How lucky he was to have powerful magic like that! And so much of it, too! Battling him in the Wizarding Tournament, Toris knew, would have been a real challenge. He would have had to use strong, strong shields to protect himself against the raw power. And that wasn’t even taking Feliks’s second into consideration. With magic like that, people would have clamored to compete by Feliks’s side…

…But that would have only happened if Feliks would have wanted to compete in the Wizarding Tournament in the first place. Playing arcade games while sitting in an air-conditioned basement was fun in a relaxing way; fighting an opponent by blasting magic at them while running around a dirt packed arena was fun in an adrenaline rush way, and Toris didn’t know Feliks well enough to determine if he would like that. Now that he thought about it… they had hardly hung out at all.

Even so… there was so much he wanted to ask Feliks.

How did he learn to control his magic? How did he discover the games in the arcade? Why was Alley Warriors his favorite game?

Did he really mean it when he said that he liked him?

…What did it mean to be liked by someone, anyways?

“Hey. Toris.”

Toris blinked.

Oskars was waving his hand in front of him.

“Did you hear any of that?” he asked.

Toris took a deep breath.

“Sorry—what were we talking about?” he asked.

“We were discussing Oskars’s entry to the writing contest,” Eduard said.

“Right.”

Oskars looked at him closely. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look tired.”

Toris shook his head. “No, no, I’m fine. Ah, sorry again – what did you say, Oska?”

For a few seconds longer, Oskars continued to look at him. Then he picked up a piece of pork with his fork. “I think I’m gonna win…”

Toris relaxed his shoulders under the fluorescent lights. He breathed, softly.

Right.

After everything he had done…

…Eating a nice dinner with his family was all he could ask for.

___

On Monday morning, Toris officially went back to working on his regular duties at the Department.

He decided he’d start by properly organizing the correspondence Mr. Jones had received during the two business days he spent sending his documentation to Mr. Kirkland. Jones had stuffed the governmental communications and reports into one cardboard box, which sagged on Toris’s desk. It was incredible to see how many papers he could accumulate in just two days – which was another motivator for him Toris to start working right then and there. Toris rolled up the sleeves of his white button down. Gods. It would take him at least an hour to sort everything. And he still had to read the papers, too.

Well.

It was time to get to work.

By 11 AM, he had made decent progress. He managed to organize every document by the date Jones had received them, and he had read half of them. The other magical departments were mostly contacting Jones to coordinate their procedures for the Wizarding Tournament in December. They wrote about ways to mitigate all the various magical disasters that could occur in the city – from earth-magicked algae that could clog the sewers to fire magic that could explode in the streets. The Magical Creatures department had also included information on their bomb-sniffing dragons, and the Spells department wanted Jones to review the new charms some wizards applied to use at the Tournament –

But Toris made himself place the remaining reports on the side of his desk.

Right.

He still had to schedule Jones’s meetings for the week.

Sometime later…

Toris’s stomach growled.

Loudly.

He jolted.

Had anyone heard him? What if they thought he was slacking off at his job – that he wanted to waste the Department’s time by not eating breakfast beforehand?!

He surveyed the entire office.

Vargas had stepped away from his cubicle, and Williams sat in the reception desk at the very front of the room.

Toris sighed. He had gotten lucky. For now.

Normally, the shock would have motivated him to continue completing his work. He had finished organizing the Department’s private correspondence and Jones’s meetings, yes, but he still had to distribute the publicly available information. But he felt faint. And he was salivating over the thought of the rye and ham sandwich he made for lunch…

Unfortunately, he had to take his lunch break. He wouldn’t be able to focus if he didn’t.

Brown lunch bag in hand, Toris strode past the coffee machine up to the front desk, ready to tell Williams that he would return in 30 minutes – but he stopped behind William’s chair. Williams was talking with a man in a suit.

And the man was scowling.

“Where is that?” the man asked sourly.

William’s shoulders tensed. “Uh, it’s by the water fountains.”

“The where?”

“The water fountains,” Williams repeated slowly, so slowly that Toris winced internally. Ah, no – he sounded like he was talking to a kid! “Um, here… on this map, you’ll see it’s on the first floor…”

“Okay, this is ridiculous.” The man huffed contemptuously. “Just so you know, the fact that a government building is designed this horribly is incredibly stressful.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, sir,” Williams said.

“I’m sure you are,” the man said. He pursed his lips, then latched his gaze onto Toris. “Oh, hello. “Where can I register for the Wizarding Tournament?” he asked sharply.

Williams turned around. Normally, Toris would have let him deal with the man alone. Dealing with unfriendly people was just part of the job – and he only had 30 minutes for lunch– but Williams’s eyes were round with exasperation, and so Toris stepped forward. “You can go to their office on the first floor, sir.”

“Where is that?”

“The first floor, sir. If you walk to the end of this hallway, there will be an elevator on your right, and it’ll take you right in front of their office.”

“Thank you,” the man said. “And again, just letting you know, this is ridiculous.”

Toris put on his widest work smile. It was best to just keep people like this moving. “Ah, I apologize for inconveniencing you, sir.”

The man walked out of the office without saying another word.

When his footsteps had finally faded down the hall, Williams slumped forward and sighed. His curly blond hair fell in front of his eyes. “Thanks, Toris,” Williams said. “Ugh, that got me… I couldn’t think straight.”

Toris shook his head. Williams had just started working again regularly, so it made sense that he got overwhelmed. “I understand. But, ah… dealing with people like that is just part of the job.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Williams said, pursing his lips.

“Yeah… you’re right.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Williams shook his head. “No, not right now.”

“Okay. I’m going to eat lunch, then,” Toris said. He stepped forward – but then he paused. “Will you be alright at the desk by yourself?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? If you have any questions, I can answer them now.”

“I’ll be fine,” Williams said, smiling.

Toris sighed. “Ah… I’ll be back from lunch soon.”

“Have a good lunch.”

“You, too.”

Toris glanced at the clock on William’s desk.

23 minutes left.

How did some people have so much time in the day?

After coordinating dozens of Jones’s meetings in the afternoon, Toris was glad to end his work day by reading the reports he had set aside. It was incredible – the Wizarding Tournament was considering approving so many new spells for that year’s competition. He would have continued reading – and he almost did – but when he glanced at the clock, he realized his mouth was dry. Too dry. Eventually, he got up from his chair and walked down to water fountains on the first floor, reminding himself that he wouldn’t be able to work productively if he was dehydrated.

His legs ached as he stepped into the white-tiled lobby. It made sense, considering that he’d been sitting for 7 hours– but somehow… it didn’t feel like his body should feel that way. All around him, young interns and seasoned executives alike bustled through the glass entranceway. Their suits were sharp and crisp, and they held their heads high. They could ignore the late afternoon sun outside.

So why, then, was Toris so… drained?

Toris drank his water.

Ahh.

There was nothing better than a cold drink of water after a long day.

Now, he could push through this strange feeling and finish up his work.

Toris walked into the lobby. Yes. Once he left the office, he would go back to his apartment to cook soup, and everything would be fine.

“Hey! Toris!”

Toris froze.

He recognized that voice.

He turned around.

Feliks Łukasiewicz was approaching him, holding a folder with one hand and waving with the other.

Toris smiled.

“Feliks!” Toris exclaimed. “Ah – hello!”

“Hey, hey!” Feliks said. He stopped in front of him, then let out a huge sigh. “Oh my gosh – I was hoping I’d run into you here.”

In the sunlight, Toris could see every one of Feliks’s freckles, which speckled his face like sunflower seeds. They dotted the corners of his eyes, his cheeks, his long nose, which made him warm—

He blinked.

Feliks wanted to run into him.

“You were looking for me?” Toris asked.

Or barely asked. His throat was tight. But. Feliks wanted to talk to him, and this seemed important. He looked Feliks in the eye, trying his absolute best to breathe like a normal person while the other man nodded excitedly. “Yeah. I, like, need to ask you something.”

“Ah…” Toris said. “What is it?”

“Okay, so – I was originally here to make sure these went through,” Feliks said. He lifted the folder in his left hand. “The documents for those wizards, remember?”

“Yes.”

“They did, so we’re all good. Those wizards will leave you the heck alone now.”

“Thank you so much!” Toris said. He sighed in relief. “I apologize for all the trouble… but I truly appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome!” Feliks said.

Toris nodded. “Then… what was your question?”

Had he left something undone at the arcade? Did he need help filing for insurance? But – if that was the case – why wouldn’t Feliks just call him on the phone?

Feliks lifted his head.

“Listen, Toris… I really, really liked playing Alley Warriors with you,” he said. “You’re a good teacher, and you’re seriously good for a beginner. So, I’m thinking it’d be totally fun if we played more of it. And did other stuff together.”

Toris’s heart swelled.

“Ah – I’d love to play more when I have time,” he said breathlessly, without even thinking.

He shouldn’t have said that. He knew it the moment the words left his lips.

But for some reason –

He didn’t want to take them back.

Feliks smiled. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I had fun, too.”

Which was true. He really did mean it.

Feliks’s smiled even wider. “Oh my gosh, I’m so glad. Okay, so – I was wondering…” He gestured. “Would you, like, be my coach?”

Toris tilted his head to the side.

“Coach for what?” he asked.

And here, Feliks grinned.

“The Wizarding Tournament!” he said brightly. “I just signed up.”

Chapter Text

“You registered for the Wizarding Tournament?” Toris asked.

“Yup!” Feliks said.

Out of all the possible questions Feliks Łukasiewicz could have asked him, this was the one that bowled Toris over the most.

“I seriously think it’ll be fun,” Feliks continued. “It’s basically just Alley Warriors in real life, and I mean, I already have the game skills. Yeah, there’s the physical stuff – but you saw me with that broom. I was like, bam! Bwoosh!” Feliks swept his hand in an arc through the air. “I can totally get stronger. Plus, we have, like, four months to do it. I’ll just, like, eat a ton of chicken and lift a ton of weights. And practice my magic, too, obviously. The Wizarding Council is gonna send me my magic permits and stuff by Friday, so I’ll start seriously practicing like, next week.”

Feliks’s green eyes looked up at Toris expectantly.

“So? When do you wanna start?”

Toris could hardly open his mouth to speak.

In the days since he had last seen Feliks Łukasiewicz, Toris thought that he would do many things. Maybe he would even ask him what he meant when he said that he thought Toris was cute.

At that moment, though, the logical part of Toris’s brain pushed that all aside.

There was no way that Feliks was being serious.

“…Thank you for asking,” he said at last. “I’m, ah, flattered that you asked me…”

“I mean, yeah. You’re like, a super good teacher.”

The problem was that Toris was good at teaching video games, not wizarding. He couldn’t think of a way to word that diplomatically, though.

“Ah, thank you,” Toris said. Well… even if Feliks was naïve, he was still a little happy that his lackluster teaching skills could inspire someone. He tried to use that happiness to steel him for the most awkward part of their conversation. “Um, so… Feliks…”

“Yeah?”

There was a question on the tip of Toris’s tongue. He hesitated to ask it – he didn’t want to be cruel or condescending, or to risk Feliks discovering his past. But he had to get a better sense of Feliks’s intentions.  “…What was the last Tournament you watched?”

“I’ve, like, never watched a single one,” Feliks said openly.

“Ah.”

“I’m just super into Alley Warriors.”

“A-ah…”

It was confirmed.

Feliks Lukasiewicz had no idea what he was getting himself into.

“And I really want to do more magic,” Feliks said breathlessly.

“You do…?”

But he didn’t need to ask, because he could already see the enthusiasm glittering in Feliks’s eyes. “Yeah, I do. It’s, like, super cool. I mean, last week, I was, like, trying a bunch of different stuff, so I got these wires and – here. Look at this.”

Feliks scrounged in his pocket. A moment later, he pulled out a knot of red and blue wires. “You’re gonna, like, be amazed when you see this.”

“You magicked these wires?”

“Yeah! Look—”

“Wait, wait—” Toris said. Talking about Alley Warriors was fine, but this was different. He didn’t like the strange feeling in his chest that drew him towards the wires, towards the magic. “I have to go back to work soon. I can’t stay long—”

“It’s just gonna be a few seconds,” Feliks said. “It’s the coolest thing ever.”

Toris glanced around the lobby. Judging by the orange afternoon light streaming through the windows, it was almost the end of the work day. He didn’t have time for this.

But he was so curious.

“Okay,” he said. He could spare a few seconds. “What is it?”

He stepped closer to Feliks’s outstretched palm. Together, the two of them ducked their heads to view the wire knot.

“I had these wires,” Feliks said, “and I wanted to do something with them, so I clumped them into this ball, and then I held them in my hand… and then… watch.”

Feliks closed his eyes. He scrunched his nose, and as he did so, a faint green glow rose from the center of his palm and surrounded the knot. Toris’s eyes widened. More earth magic!

Feliks’s magic sank into the wires. One braid rose out of the mass and bent forward. An intertwined nub of wires extended out of the knot’s left side, then out of its right. At the end of the knot, a last braid flicked out onto Feliks’s palm. The mass shuddered. It twitched. It glowed green again –

And it shook itself to life.

The front wire raised itself to the air, as if it was bellowing. The nubs on the side fluttered up and down. The tail braid wagged.

“Introducing my dragon,” Feliks announced proudly.

Toris stared in awe. “It’s incredible! How long did it take you to enchant it…?”

“Five days.”

Toris did his best to keep his face calm. Five days was an unusually short amount of time for a complex enchantment like this – even if Feliks had been enchanting his arcade machines for the past three months. Still, he wouldn’t say anything. It was better if he hid his knowledge of magic for now. “It’s impressive.”

Feliks smiled. “Thanks. She totally is.”

“She’s a girl?”

“Yep.”

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. She’ll forgive you,” Feliks said. He tapped his finger in front of the dragon. “Right?”

In response, the dragon shook her head wildly. She bellowed at Toris.

“Oh my gosh. You might have to feed her some, like, copper later. She’s grumpy now,” he said. “Once I get her wings straightened out, I’m totally gonna teach her how to shoot metal scraps.”

For a beginning magic user, Feliks was very ambitious. What other traits would he want to give his dragon? Flight? Intense speed? Probably all of them, knowing how hard he worked to best Matthias at Alley Warriors.

This ambition made him think unrealistically about his own wizarding abilities. But, on second thought… Toris could also see it being useful in the Tournament. Suddenly, he saw an image clearly: Feliks standing in the middle of the Tournament arena, waving a wand in a smooth arc, and raising an army of miniature dragons from the dirt in front of him. He could be a wizard who animated earth materials for combat.

Toris stilled.

He had to stop thinking about the Tournament.

A sinking feeling dropped down his chest. To ignore it, he redirected his attention back to Feliks, who was still talking to his dragon.

“I can show you how to shoot sparks at anyone who cheats at the arcade. You’ll be, like, seriously badass. No one will ever mess with us while you’re around.”

“Ah! Don’t tell her to do that!” Toris said.

Feliks furrowed his eyebrows. “Why not?”

“You could be arrested for inciting violence!”

“I mean, they’ll just be, like, small.”

“In an arcade with wooden furniture?”

Feliks considered. “Okay, she’ll snap at them instead until they leave.”

The dragon roared her approval.

“Ah…” Toris sighed.

Once again, everything came back to his main point: there was no good reason for him to get involved with the Wizarding Tournament again.

He just needed to say his piece immediately. The sooner he could get away from the Tournament, the better. “Ah, Feliks… first, I’m glad that you introduced me to this dragon. I’m very pleased to have met her.”

“She definitely is, too.”

“But—”

Feliks focused his eyes on Toris. “But what?”

“I’m sorry. I… don’t think I’ll have time to coach you.”

Feliks frowned. “Really? Why not?”

“I…” Toris hesitated. He had to word this in a way that wouldn’t reflect poorly on the Department. “I’m busy with work during the week and the weekends. I wouldn’t be able to help you as much as you need. To do your best in this type of event, you need a coach who can work with you consistently and often. I… can’t.”

“Huh… so, like… not at all?”

Toris shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Even though he knew it was the right thing to do, rejecting Feliks so firmly made Toris’s stomach clench. Rejecting anyone had been hard for him to do ever since the last time he did it in the tournament.

But to his credit, Feliks only blew out a breath and nodded. He shrugged it off.

“It’s cool. I can just, like, update you on my progress and stuff.”

“I’m sorry – I wish I could help you…”

“Nah, I totally get it. I mean, you have stuff to do, too.”

Feliks was right. He did have things to do – important things. Wasting his weekends on wizarding wouldn’t be productive at all. Productive was washing his work clothes and cleaning his kitchen counters. Productive was not ignoring his responsibilities by focusing on the Wizarding Tournament.

Toris knew all of that.

Then why did he still feel so… bad?

It was just empathy, he figured. Toris had been an excited young wizard once, too. But that was more reason that he should encourage Feliks to find another coach. There wasn’t much Feliks could learn from him now, anyways. Other active wizards, like Irunya and Mircea, had much better handles on their earth magic. Irunya could conjure sunflowers as large as houses. Mircea could enchant pollen to make his opponents sleep.

After all he had failed to do, Toris could only work as a secretary in the Department of Magical Emergencies, and it was in the Department that he knew he should stay.

He straightened his suit jacket, which had gotten rumpled over his button down.

“I’m sorry,” Toris said. “Good luck.”

“Thanks! I’m gonna crush it.”

“Ah, I’m sorry – but I have to head back now,” Toris heard himself say.

“Oh, kk. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Please keep me updated – if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I definitely will! I’ll, like, call you or something.”

Toris gave a wan smile. “Have a good night, Feliks.”

“Bye!”

Feliks waved. In the afternoon light, he looked warm and strong, brimming with exuberance. Toris waved back. After that, he strode into the metal stairwell that would lead him back to the Department’s office.

As Toris moved up the staircase, employees bustled on both sides of him. They chatted away so easily.

“Wanna go to Green Leaf?”

“He’s so chill.”

“Fuck, we have to submit that thing by midnight…”

It was so strange. They were living their lives, and they had no idea of the way that Toris’s stomach twisted so completely when he thought about his conversation with Feliks.

Agh.

If Feliks had asked him to help with anything else, he might have said yes.

Coaching him on Alley Warriors would have been fun. Cooking would have worked, too. At worst, Feliks would strain his wrist from pressing the arcade buttons for too long, or he’d get hit by flecks of hot oil while frying sausages. It would have been fine.

But nothing was ever low stakes in the Wizarding Tournament.

In the Wizarding Tournament, Feliks could break his bones.

Or he could lose pathetically and break his heart instead.

And Toris didn’t know how to fix either of those problems yet.

___

               After Toris returned to the apartment, he and Oskars ate dinner – ground pork dumplings with a side of frozen green beans. The green beans were… convenient. They came in a bag that he could steam in the microwave. They weren’t Toris’s favorite vegetables to eat – he always missed his grandmother’s cucumber salad – but it was always better to eat some vegetables than none.

Thankfully, Oskars didn’t comment on them too much.

“These need salt,” his brother said, looking at the two green beans he had speared on his fork.

Toris sighed. Ever since Oskars had developed a fondness for inordinately salty pickles, it had always been challenging to salt their meals appropriately. “Ah – do you want the shaker?”

“Yeah, please.”

Toris passed the salt shaker. Oskars shook some onto his green beans.

“Thanks,” Oskars said.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anyways, back to what I was saying… Emil read my poetry again today,” Oskars said. He smiled briefly. “He liked my deer imagery.”

“Ah, that’s great! What else did he say?”

“He liked my third poem the most. But he liked my first draft better than the draft I showed him…”

Oskars went on to explain his poetry – the work he put into it, his craft. Toris allowed himself to sink into the conversation. For once, he didn’t immediately move to wash the pile of dishes languishing in the sink. These few snatches of time that he had with his brother were more precious than anything in the world. He could clean later. He could also (to some extent) think about his work later.

And he could most definitely think about Feliks Lukasiewicz and the Wizarding Tournament later.

For the rest of the night, Toris did his best to live his normal life. He talked with Oskars. He cleaned the kitchen. He brushed his teeth, put on his sleeping clothes, opened the bedroom window, and tucked himself under the green blanket on his old futon. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table.

It was 11 PM.

Toris nodded firmly.

11 PM was the time for resting. In the other bedroom, Oskars was already asleep, and Toris himself should have been sleeping by 9 PM if he wanted to be independently cognizant for work the next day. Now, he’d have to spend $7 on a watered-down latte from Green Leaf to make it past 12 PM.

11 PM was the time for preparing for the responsibilities that really mattered. Toris rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. Feliks’s dilemma was out of his control now. There was nothing more he could do.

He would just let a complete amateur throw himself into the city’s most competitive contest for combat wizardry.

Right.

20 minutes later, Toris grabbed the phone to call Eduard.

He had to discuss this with the only person who knew wizarding in the same way that he did. Otherwise, Feliks would lead himself into total disaster.

Shadows blanketed the room. Even with the window open, it was hot and stuffy.

“…Hello?” Eduard answered.

Toris cradled the phone between his ear and his shoulder. The cord dangled off the side of the bed. “Hi, Ed. It’s Toris. I’m sorry for calling you so late.”

“Oh… Toris?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Toris’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Ah— are you sleeping?” he asked.

On the other end, he heard Eduard shuffle. “Well, no… not exactly… I’m awake now.”

“But were you sleeping?”

There was a pause.

“…I was just about to nod off,” Eduard admitted. “I’m in bed now, actually.”

“Oh, God! I’m sorry. I’ll call you back later—”

“No, no—we can talk now, if you’d like. It’s been a bit.”

“If you’re in bed this early, you must really need your sleep.”

“I can manage.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“Ah… why were you sleeping so early?”

“I worked a lot this week. But I’m fine.”

Toris sighed. “Were you working on Feliks’s case?”

“Well, yes. Again, though, I took it upon myself.”

“Ah, Ed…”

“Thankfully, because I worked enough this week, I can work less next week. I’ll sleep properly then,” Eduard said. “At any rate, I’m interested in hearing about you.”

There was no use in chastising Eduard anymore, so Toris decided to get to his point. “I have news.”

“I see.”

Toris shifted. His blanket had somehow gotten uncomfortably warm. When he spoke into the phone, he lowered his voice in case Oskars woke up and heard him through their thin walls. “I ran into Feliks at the Department.”

“Interesting.”

“Yes. We talked in the lobby before the day ended.” Toris paused. He would start with the good news first. “He sent his letters to the anonymous wizards.”

“Good. I’ve settled it on my end, too.”

“Ah, thank God! You’re great, Ed. Thank you, again, for everything.”

“Of course. Well—is there anything else?”

Toris nodded slowly. “Ah, there is. He told me that, apparently…”

Here, he took a deep breath to steel himself.

“…he registered for the Wizarding Tournament.”

“…Well,” Eduard said, “he’s ambitious.”

Which Toris really knew meant: what.

“He’s… driven. He also asked if I would coach him.”

Eduard made a soft hm of surprise. “Why? Well – does he know about you? Or about us?”

“No, I don’t think so. He didn’t recognize either of us at the arcade, and I think he still doesn’t recognize us.”

“I agree.”

“Still… I’m worried about him. He has no idea what he’s getting into,” Toris said. “He says he’s never watched a tournament, and I believe him. He thinks that it’ll be like Alley Warriors—but no one who’s ever watched the city’s tournament would think that it’s anything like a video game. He’s going to get crushed!”

“There is definitely a learning curve for him.”

“Oh, Ed, it’s worse than that. I mean – how can he learn the basics of earth magic in only four months? And that isn’t even considering learning the other elements. He needs to know them to work with his second. Unless he just goes second-less.” Toris drew in a breath sharply. Thinking about competing in the arena without Eduard – or a second wizard in general – to bolster his defenses still made him shiver. “We—wizards spend months learning to work together with their seconds. Then he'll have to learn defense, and how to counter his opponents, too… ah, it’s so much for a beginner to learn in four months!”

“It is,” Eduard said.

He sounded like he was thinking about something – about the absurdity of the situation, maybe, or the nervousness in Toris’s voice. Toris would finish his story before asking. He had to get it out. “Yes. So… I told him I can’t do it. I don’t have the time between work and Oskars. Not to mention keeping up the apartment. And I haven’t practiced my magic in almost a year now, either. It wouldn’t make sense for either of us.” He stared at the white wall across from him, focusing on the shadows and the thin sliver of moonlight cutting through his broken blinds. (One of the slats had fallen off three months ago. He still needed to call maintenance to replace it.) “…I’m thinking of referring him to another wizard instead. Someone who can really teach him. Ah… I just can’t do it.”

With that, Toris leaned his cheek against the phone and waited. A few earth magic specialists already came to his mind. Irunya could help Feliks strengthen his enchantments – and Mircea, maybe, could train him to run around the arena efficiently. He wasn’t sure, though, if either of them would be willing to accept any requests from him. Toris hadn’t talked to them since last year.

He continued waiting for Eduard.

But Eduard said nothing.

“…Ed?”

On the other end, Eduard let out a hm of contemplation.

“What are you thinking about?” Toris asked.

“Well. I have a thought that might be worth considering.”

“Yes?”

“You could consider giving him advice,” Eduard said simply.

Toris’s heart skipped a beat.

“Me?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“But why?” He tried his best to keep his voice steady, but he was sure that he was stuttering a bit. Or maybe he felt very nervous.

“You specialized in earth magic, and you seem to get along with him. Granted, you wouldn’t be able to coach him for an extended period of time because of your schedule. But he might appreciate learning from you. It would be beneficial for him. And possibly for you, too.”

Toris hesitated. Eduard was being so – forward. “…What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” Eduard said, “that it would be good for you to take a break from work.”

“No,” Toris said immediately. “I can’t, Ed. With my responsibilities? And my job?” Oh, he could have laughed.

“I know. But it would be nice for you to have fun again.”

Toris sputtered. “I have fun.”

“When?”

“When I eat dinner with you and Oskars.”

“Once every month?” Eduard asked.

“Yes,” Toris insisted.

Eduard paused. “Well – yes. Still. I do think it would be good for you to at least consider.”

“I know, Ed, I know. I’ll...” Toris took a deep breath. “I’ll… think about it.”

So he said – but Toris knew he never would. There was nothing left for him in the arena. Nothing but the memories of him collapsing to his knees as Beilschmidt stared – or the memory of the medics escorting him back to the locker room, hands tightly gripping his shoulders like they didn’t trust him to be alone with himself. His parents wouldn’t stop hugging him. Oskars wouldn’t stop asking about what happened.

There was no reason for him to ever go back.

“Thank you, Ed,” he said – partially because he meant it, and partially because he needed to think about anything else. “For caring.”

“Of course,” Eduard said evenly. Toris knew just from his tone that he was skeptical. But thank God – he had the discretion not to say anything.

“I, ah… I need to get back to sleep now,” Toris said.

Eduard hummed. “I should, too. I do need to wake up early tomorrow.”

“Work?”

“Of course.”

“Ah. Yes. Okay – goodnight. And thank you again.”

“Goodnight, Toris.”

Toris laid the phone down firmly on its cradle. He shifted onto his side and closed his eyes. All he needed to do was sleep. Sleeping would make him forget about Feliks – and once he forgot about Feliks, everything would go back to the way it was again.

He tried to count sheep. He pictured so many of them: an entire flock jumping over the old fence that circled the meadow back home. He tried his best to go to sleep.

He couldn’t.

Everything was coming back to him.

___

Some parents of Tournament wizards knew that their children had magic from the moment they were born. Toris’s parents did not. His mother gave birth to him, and all they knew was that they loved him.

“You were such a sweet baby,” his mother said once, after Toris asked her what it was like to raise him. “You rarely cried. Still, even when you did, it was sweet.”

It was because, even back then, Toris knew how much his parents loved him. He snuggled into their arms, and he knew, somehow, that he would do anything to make sure they never went away.

Still, they did. They had to. Toris’s mother did business in the city, and his father did business in the country. When it was only him, they left him with their grandmother or the neighbors for a good part of the summer to trade. After his mother gave birth to Oskars, they had to leave for more than half the year to support their growing family.

Despite that, Toris never hated Oskars. It was always the opposite. The first time Toris peered at Oskars in his crib, Oskars grabbed his finger and cooed. He kept holding on, even when their mother tried to coax his tiny fingers away. Toris held on, too. He stroked his baby brother’s hand gently for a long, long time. From the very moment he met him, Toris loved Oskars.

Toris always watched over Oskars. During the summer afternoons, he would guide his brother around their grandmother’s large farm, passing the time until she woke up from her nap. They spent a handful of summers this way.

One day was different than the rest. It was late August, the beginning of fall. Their bellies were full with their grandmother’s fresh sunflower bread, butter, and potato soup. After dinner, they ran to the back of the barn, where they cooed over their grandmother’s sheepdog.

Toris patted the dog’s fluffy back while Oskars read. The day was quiet and warm, full with sunlight.

“Toris?” Oskars asked.

“Yes?”

“What’s ph—photosynthesis?”

Toris blinked. “Photosynthesis?”

“It’s in here,” Oskars said, pointing to his book.

Toris gave the dog one final rub before walking over to Oskars. His brother was squinting at a large book with small text.

“Where did you find this book, Oska?” Toris asked in awe.

“The library.”

“And the librarian let you borrow it?”

“No. She said it was too advanced for my grade level,” Oskars said. “So I just said it was for you.”

“Oska!” Toris admonished. “You shouldn’t have lied.”

“Why not?”

“It’s wrong.”

“I just wanted to read.”

“I know. But still – don’t do that again.”

“Mmph…”

“Oska, I’m serious.”

“Fine, fine.”

Oskars was, of course, lying – but Toris decided to let it go. “Now, could I see your book?”

“Here,” Oskars said.

Oskars handed the book to him. The cloth was rough but soft under Toris’s fingers. He scanned it. The illustrations showed a boy wearing a newsboy’s cap using a magnifying glass to stare at a blooming dandelion.

“Oh!” Toris gasped. “He’s thinking about how plants make energy – or eat.”

“That’s photosynthesis?”

“Yes,” Toris said.

“Yes,” Toris said. “We learned about it in science class.”

“How? They don’t have mouths…”

“It’s like this,” Toris said.

He bent to the ground. A few dried pieces of hay laid at their feet. He picked one stalk, then cradled it in his palm.

“Look here, Oskars,” he said.

“Where?” Oskars said, jamming his nose into Toris’s palm.

“Ah, move back a bit – there,” Toris said.  “Ah… see this plant?”

“Mhm.”

“When it’s sunny out, the plants absorb the sunlight. They can use that sunlight to make food. And then they turn green…”

As he said that, warmth pooled in Toris’s hand.

The plant shuddered. Then it straightened and grew, turning bright, vibrant green.

Toris gasped.

“What?” Oskars breathed.

“I –” Toris could only stare at the stalk. “I don’t know…”

Toris wriggled his fingers. He wasn’t sure how – or what – just happened.

But next to him, Oskars breathed out in wonder.

“So pretty,” he breathed.

And he laughed with delight.

Later that fall, when his parents told Toris they had enrolled him in wizarding lessons, the first thing he remembered was the sound of Oskars laughing.

___

Somehow, while he was remembering, the bedroom walls blurred, and his eyes drifted shut…

…and Toris’s body finally let him sleep.

___

Toris woke up with his head buried in his pillow. For the first time in months, he didn’t struggle to open his eyes. He sat up when he wanted to sit up. He felt ready to move his limbs. Tiredness? That was something he didn’t feel. He felt like a productive citizen of the world.

Which meant, of course, that something was off.

The light streaming through the window was too bright, too cool. Toris glanced at the alarm clock.

7:10 AM.

20 minutes until he had to leave for the office.

“Oh, God!” he moaned.

And then he launched himself out of bed.

Showering was out of the question. So was ironing his clothes. Toris tossed on a white button down and black slacks before rushing out of his apartment.

He just barely made it to work, five minutes before 8 AM. He didn’t even have time to buy a latte – which he hoped would be manageable. Somehow. Please.

And it was. In a way. The whole morning, Toris buzzed with the exuberant adrenaline of the truly sleep deprived – the kind that made his head feel like it was getting pinpricked with light. For lunch, he managed to drag himself to Green Leaf. He slumped his aching body in a window seat, and he downed a small latte and an $8 snack box of goat cheese, whole wheat crackers, and honey.

Sleep deprivation was fascinating. Everything felt incredible. Even spending $8 on an overpriced meal.

Until the carbs started to hit.

By 3 PM, Toris was on the verge of collapse.

He had fallen asleep at his desk no less than three times. Maybe five. He couldn’t keep track of all the sleeps he’d fallen into. His eyes would close – reopen – focus on a single word in the documents in front of him – and then close again for a completely random amount of time.

It was so bad that the coffee wasn’t even working anymore – it just made his entire chest cavity shudder. He would have holed up in an office bathroom to calm down, but there was a 96% chance that he would fall asleep on the toilet with his head against the stall.

Toris sighed. He squinted at the document on his desk. Only two more hours. Just two more…

“—Laurinaitis? Hellooo?”

“Ah!”

Toris snapped his eyes open.

Oh God. It was Mr. Jones.

Mr. Jones squinted down at him. “You doin’ alright?”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Toris said reflexively. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? Because man, you look beat.”

Maybe Toris should have exchanged the $8 worth of goat cheese for $8 of concealer instead. “I… got careless at the end of the day, sir. I apologize.”

“Huh… are you sure you’re okay, Laurinaitis?” Mr. Jones asked.

Polite as he was right then, Toris knew the answer to that question wasn’t one that Mr. Jones would like. “Thank you, sir, but I’m fine.”

Mr. Jones frowned. “Alright, if you say so.”

“Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” Toris asked, trying very hard to keep smiling.

He very nearly broke when Mr. Jones slipped a manila file onto his desk. He said they were documents about the Wizarding Tournament that he would send to Mr. Kirkland – so could Toris review them before Friday?

“Yes, of course,” Toris said. Not that he could have said no.

Thankfully, the documents were easy to read. Mr. Jones wanted Mr. Kirkland to allow the use of some newly developed charms at that year’s Wizarding Tournament. Mr. Kirkland rejected the request previously, stating that the charms didn’t pass muster in the official testing – but Mr. Jones retorted that new tests showed that the charms were safe – and more than safe, they were innovative.

Toris squinted. It was air magic.

It was at that moment that Toris finally realized:

Ah.

He peered at the documents, then closed his eyes.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the Wizarding Tournament.