"What do you mean, I'm not the anchor?"
Finnian's voice had definitely come out louder than he had intended it to, not to mention more high-pitched. Under normal circumstances he'd be mortified of the way he clearly sounded like a petulant child, but right now that was the least of his problems.
"I'm always the anchor," he told Coach Greene, who stared back at him with impassive bright eyes. "Are you saying we should knock over our whole order just to accommodate one person?"
Lydia Greene sighed, but she didn't look too surprised by his outburst. "The fastest person on the team is always the anchor," she said calmly. "That's how we do it. I know it's usually you, Finnian, but right now Hikaru is just faster."
Finnian's furious eyes darted over to Hikaru, who wouldn't spare him a single glance. In fact, he was ignoring the argument entirely, choosing instead to busy himself with adjustments to his broom.
For some reason that fact stung almost as much as the knowledge that he'd been replaced.
"So what?" Finnian snapped. "Oh, he's only here for a year and then ditching us anyway, so it's not like giving him the spot would disrupt the team or anything." He rolled his eyes. "Especially not if we take Clara out of the lineup for him, because who cares that she's a much better team player, am I right?"
Helio crossed his arms, fixing him with a stern look. "Team play doesn't matter in a relay race," he said in a tone that made it obvious he was disappointed in Finnian for not thinking of that himself. "The only thing that matters is our time. And you know that."
Finnian did, of course he did. He wasn't an idiot. "Oh, all right," he conceded, switching strategies. "So maybe this is all about our speed. And we're throwing the newest addition to the team straight into the most important spot?" He glanced in Hikaru's direction again, only to be ignored once more. "How do we know he's not going to panic and fail us at the last minute?"
That finally succeeded at getting Hikaru's attention. "I'm not a coward," he said coldly.
"Oh, of course not. You're the bravest, most fearless man this world has ever known." Finnian rolled his eyes again, deliberately exaggerating the motion. "Maybe I'd have an easier time believing that if you didn't spend every single lunch break hiding from people behind your headphones."
Hikaru froze.
"What? Am I wrong? Are you trying to tell me you're not avoiding human contact like the plague?" Rationally, Finnian knew that he should shut up, that he was taking it too far. He found he didn't care. "What will you do if you can't wear your precious headphones at the competition next week, huh? Will the fragile little princess not run from all the big, scary noisies?"
Hikaru reacted in a flash, so fast that Finnian didn't even see the magic he used. He just felt it strike him like a flash of electricity, and the next moment he could move his tongue and lips, but not utter a single sound.
"That's enough, both of you."
Stepping in between them before they could start fighting for real, Helio held up a hand in each one's direction, gathering colorless magic around his fingers like ripples in clear water. "Fighting will not be tolerated on this team," he warned them. "Finnian, Hikaru, the team will need both of you next week. Try not to start any drama now."
Finnian wanted to retort that it was a little too late for that, but he still didn't have a voice, so he only shrugged and nodded. Across from him Hikaru muttered a half-hearted apology. His blank, emotionless mask was firmly back in place.
Finnian smirked to himself. It had only been for a second, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, but when he had brought up his sensitivity to noise, Hikaru's stoic demeanor had cracked. A vulnerable spot, he said to himself. He could pry further in that direction. Exploit it. Crack Hikaru's expressionless façade until it broke open, until all his flaws, all his weaknesses were freely exposed to the world.
Until he burned just like Finnian was burning.
Until he actually gave a damn, even if that meant loathing Finnian's very existence.
He told himself those weren't his goals or his reasons. He didn't want Hikaru's attention. He especially didn't want to know why he might want his attention. Hikaru Hiyama didn't matter to him except when he was usurping his status and everything he had worked so hard to preserve; Finnian wanted to take it back from him, that was all. Revenge, nothing more.
Right?
"Hey, now," Sol remarked, messing up his hair and casually undoing the silencing spell on him. "What's got you so upset? You're not even off the lineup, you just moved up one spot."
They were right, of course. But it was still irking him. "I just don't like leaving my spot to this—this unknown factor," he said. "We've done fine with me as the anchor. If we need a fast person to build up our lead, put him in my spot! That way I can still do damage control if he messes it up!"
"If he messes up," Sol replied with a shrug. "This ain't his first rodeo, Finnian. He's probably got more experience than any of us."
They had clearly meant it to be reassuring. And if Finnian had really been just worried about that, it probably would have helped. Somewhat.
But because this was all about his wounded pride, all Sol's comment had done was add insult to injury.
~ ~ ~
Hikaru hated Finnian Day. He hated him. He hated him.
What was it with the way that guy seemed to see through him in all the worst ways? How did he find his worst weaknesses so easily? And why, why, why did he have to go and expose them all to anyone who would listen?
Once again he was grateful for his resting poker face, his inability to express his emotions in the same way as everyone else. If it hadn't been for that, he would probably have lashed out much, much earlier. Damn it, he still hated himself for that brief loss of control. How he hadn't ended up in trouble for it, he didn't know either. If his teachers at home had seen that—if his parents had seen it—
Hikaru took a slow breath, trying and failing to steady himself. He could almost taste the trouble he would have gotten into. The voices of his parents, both talking at once, telling him how badly he had embarrassed the family with his impulsive and reckless behavior. His twin sister yelling over them both, trying to get them to understand. Being forced to formally apologize in the most humiliating way possible, along with a million comments from his family about how incorrigible he was.
But his parents weren't here, he told himself. His teachers weren't here. He was all alone in a foreign country. And he wasn't in trouble.
Yet, he thought. He would be sometime if he couldn't restrain himself. But it was hard to restrain himself in the painfully accurate observations of Finnian Day.
Although, deep down, that quick moment of payback had felt so very, very good.
If only that brief revenge had been enough to erase the truth of Finnian's words. Finnian was right, right about everything. The only reason Hikaru had been given the anchor position was because he was faster than Finnian, and the only reason for that was that he was smaller and lighter. Finnian had been their anchor for years, it sounded like. He had earned that position through hard work, and now Hikaru had taken it for a reason that was entirely beyond his and Finnian's control.
Which didn't mean he wouldn't hand it over now. It was his, and Finnian could die mad about it.
~ ~ ~
Finnian was still seething with silent anger when he got home, unceremoniously flopping down next to Anthony and watching the python be his usual snake-y self until the cuteness of his pet smoothed out the worst of his annoyance and frustration.
He had almost calmed down enough when his phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a message from Elaine.
It contained only a link, along with the simple message, Hey, I think you might want to look at this.
Finnian clicked it, and it led to a video. Another Let Us In thing, from the looks of it. Why did Elaine care so much about that, anyway?
The video started playing. It showed a podium, clearly at one of the protests or a similar event; someone was leaving the stage, and coming up after them was a young woman only a few years older than Finnian himself.
She was probably college-aged, he observed, maybe nineteen or twenty, a round-faced Black girl with shoulder-length dark curls and a soft, rounded figure that lay somewhere between curvy and chubby. She was dressed nicely, Finnian observed, but in a way that prioritized comfort over style; a stark contrast to the sharp-dressed DeVille girl flanking her to one side and the lanky young man in the oversized hoodie and ill-fitting jeans to the other.
Smiling nervously, the girl stepped up to the podium, fidgeting with her sleeves for a moment before turning towards the audience. "Thank you," she said, her voice clear and warm and somehow inviting. "I'd like to thank Mr. Blake as well; he's been fighting this fight for a lot longer than us, and I think we all learned something new." She smiled in the direction of the man who had left the stage before her. "But what I want to add…"
Finnian watched the whole video, listening to her speak of peace and understanding, of putting aside old prejudices and leaving the past behind. Not too long ago, every word out of her mouth would have sounded ridiculous to him. Even now it should be ridiculous. This was the exact opposite of everything his ancestors had fought for. And yet, somehow, she managed to make it all sound so perfectly reasonable.
More reasonable than every word Ellison had ever known, he thought grimly. Maybe that was why. Between that man and this young Dark Mage woman, Finnian knew who he would rather follow.
Which was a traitorous thought, he knew. This girl was a Dark Mage. The enemy. She was speaking at a protest—a riot, the media had called it. But this video didn't make it look like a riot. There was no yelling, no threats of violence; there was a college-aged girl speaking of peace and forgiveness in a calm, gentle voice, and people cheered for her. Her own Dark Mages cheered for her.
Finnian would too.
Which was, again, silly. This video was likely propaganda. In reality the protests were riots, nasty, violent things full of people hell-bent on revenge and destroying the Light Mages after taking what they could. He shouldn't believe these sorts of things so easily; he couldn't believe them. He was not on their side.
Still, why had Elaine sent this video to him? Had she gone through the same train of thoughts as Finnian himself had just now? Was she wavering in her convictions? What did she expect him to say—
And then it hit him.
His eyes landed on the title of the video, which he had ignored up till now. He read it. Blinked. Shook his head. Read it again.
Suddenly he understood.
The young Dark Mage's name was Mercury Day.
And now that he looked closer, she seemed to have the same gray eyes as Finnian's father and Finnian himself.
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