Chapter 25 — Wash Lane, Rail Line
Rei's fingers came away red when he checked the cut again.
Shallow. Clean. Still bleeding enough to stain his sleeve if he let it.
"I'll fix it," he said, more to himself than anyone else.
Becca leaned over the spectator rail as if stone and rules were the only things stopping her from crossing the line. She kept her voice down by force, which made every word land sharper. "You're walking to a healer right now."
Rei lifted his forearm a fraction. Blood beaded, then slowed. Spellhand liners took the sting and kept his hand usable. The damage stayed what it was.
"I'm aware," he said.
Behind the exam gate desk, the proctor finished writing and set the suppression token onto her slate. Dull brass. Flat stamp. The thin ring of ward-etching caught the light when she rotated it.
"Clean yourself," the proctor said. "Return to the Annex after. Revised supervision instructions."
Rei nodded once. "Understood."
Becca's eyes flicked to the token and back to Rei. "Say the name again," she said. "The patch."
"Sable Knot," Rei replied.
Becca's jaw tightened. Anger rose, found the word, and held it like a handle. "I'm going to bite them."
Rei's mouth twitched. "Get in line."
That earned him a flash of relief in her eyes—the kind she refused to show for more than a heartbeat. It vanished under focus.
Rei turned toward the wash corridor. Jinx stayed glued to his heel, ears forward, tail high in a way that read like warning and pride at the same time. Vesper's weight remained under his hood, warm at his collarbone, calm enough to press Rei's breath into a steadier lane without asking.
His calf tightened as he walked. His shoulder complained in slow pulses. He kept Ember Circulation running low and constant and treated the pain like a pacing problem with a solution. In. Out. Even. A small rhythm he could control while everything else tried to set his tempo.
The wash room sat just off the gate lane: basins cut into stone, mirrors hung above them, a shelf of lye soap and folded cloth. A drain channel ran along the counter edge, stained pale from years of chalk and rinse water.
Rei ran cold water first, then warm, and rinsed dust from his hands until the runoff cleared.
Jinx paced behind him in a tight arc, tracking every footfall in the corridor outside. She made no noise. She saved noise for moments that required it. Her tail flicked once at the door, a sharp punctuation that said she hadn't forgotten the net, the cords, the way strangers had tried to fold Rei under control tools.
Vesper stayed still in the hood, her breathing slow. That steadiness kept Rei from drifting into the thin edge between anger and haste. When Rei's breath tightened for a fraction, her weight shifted a little closer to his throat, warm pressure that anchored him back into his own body.
Rei cleaned the cut properly. Blood crusted at the edges and softened under water. The tether burn looked worse than the blade kiss: a red line, heat trapped under skin, the shape of the cord's bite. He lathered soap into the mark, let the sting rise, then rinsed it away. If he had to carry pain, he'd carry it clean.
He exhaled once through his nose and let Ember Circulation keep the breath even.
"All right," he muttered.
He washed his face, cleared dust from his hairline, and wrung water from the end of his braid. In the mirror, he saw fox ears damp at the edges, ice-blue eyes with gold flecks, and a set to his mouth that made him look older than the day deserved.
A dull pressure sat at the base of his ears when he glanced toward the corridor. Wards. Observation. Containment. The feeling didn't give him a map. It just reminded him the annex lanes carried attention the way a blade carried weight.
He dried his hands, pulled his sleeve back into place, and stepped out.
Becca waited in the corridor, unicorn tether held by one of her tired companions a few paces behind. The mount stood with bored patience, horn angled forward, ears flicking at the annex quiet like it was judging the building's manners. A few other candidates passed at a distance and pretended they were not staring.
Becca's gaze swept Rei the way she counted inventory—fast, thorough, unforgiving.
"Better," she said, then immediately ruined the restraint. "Still bleeding."
"Controlled," Rei replied.
"That sentence makes me want to commit arson," Becca said.
Rei kept walking. "Try it after the Annex."
Becca matched his pace until boundary lines forced her to slow. Her eyes cut toward the annex doors like procedure had insulted her personally. "They're making you go alone."
"They said escort," Rei replied.
Becca's eyes sharpened. "That sounds like a chain."
"It also sounds like permission," Rei said. "It means the academy is watching."
Becca made a quiet sound in her throat that meant she understood exactly how much "watching" was a weapon and a shield at the same time. She pulled in a breath that threatened to become volume, then redirected it into something that looked like control.
"Fine," she said. "I'm watching faces. I'm listening for names. I'm counting who looks away."
"That's useful," Rei said.
A clerk appeared at the far end of the corridor and stopped when they saw Rei. Their eyes flicked to the torn robe edge and scorch streaks, then to the foxes, then paused on the unicorn as if their day's training didn't include this category.
"Rei Hikari," the clerk said. "This way."
Rei followed.
Becca moved with him.
The clerk lifted a hand without turning. "Spectator boundary remains."
Becca's mouth opened, already loading a protest. Rei turned his head.
"Becca."
She froze mid-breath. Her eyes stayed hard. Her voice came out tight. "I'm his—"
"You're here," Rei said, calm and precise. "Stay close enough to see. Keep your hands off people until we know what's happening. Save the yelling for outside."
Becca stared at him for a beat, then swallowed the argument like it tasted bad.
"Fine," she said. "I'm going to memorize every face."
Rei nodded once. "Do it."
Becca's hands tightened on the rail as he stepped past the boundary line. Her voice stayed low, packed tight. "You come back out."
Rei met her eyes. He didn't soften. He kept it clean. "I will."
Becca's chin dipped once, sharp and decided, as if she was filing that promise as a contract. The unicorn shifted its weight and snorted softly, impatient with waiting and human rules.
Jinx sat at Rei's heel as if she understood the promise had teeth. Vesper's weight settled at his collarbone, warm and composed.
Rei turned toward the annex lane doors. He rolled his shoulder once, testing the pain, then stopped before he fed it more attention than it deserved. He had tasks that mattered: comply, listen, collect details, and leave with his choices intact.
He walked in, breath steady, pain managed, and a new constraint waiting on the other side.