Back at the Station, Nagi headed up to his quarters without another word. Cid watched him go, trying not to let his disappointment broadcast. He had hoped the other kids would inspire the melancholy Prime, inbue him with some kind of renewed life.

But if it was going to happen, it was clear that it would take longer than just one afternoon.

Cid returned to his station, intending to investigate the matter of the unexpected addition to the class, only to find a file already waiting for him. It included a holo, medical report and profile of Hisoka Kurosaki. He skimmed it briefly, noting that there was a distinct lack of background information. Then he got on the vidphone and put in a call to Earth, asking for one of Reidinger's assistants.

The screen flickered to life, displaying an amiable, if slightly harassed-looking young man.

"Gollee Gren here, Prime Reidinger's office, identify?"

"Cid of Altair Station." Cid paused, detecting a flurry of movement in the background which Gren seemed to be trying his best to ignore. "What are you Earth-monkeys doing down there, Gren?"

"Hey, Cid! Oh, we're just... shuffling things around. Got a couple of unexpected shipments that've put Reidinger in a bit a snit." He gave a conspiratorial wink. "Got something on your mind? Hey, those students were due in today, right?"

Cid nodded. "All present and accounted for, plus one - which is why I'm connecting, actually. Know anything about a green-eyed kid with an attitude?"

"Oh, that'd be the 'problem child'," Gren replied wryly.

"I figured that much out already! Kurosaki... I don't remember his name on any of the T-4 or 5 rating lists..."

"That's because he only turned up on Earth sometime during the last year. Nobody can figure out who the heck he is, or where he came from."

Cid sat up straighter in his chair, a look of disbelief on his face. "What do you mean? There have to be records! Have you DNA sampled him??"

"We did. We couldn't find a match on Earth. It seems likely he's some unregistered colony brat who hitched a ride planetside. We're still looking into it."

"So... why did you send him HERE?"

"He's raw Talent. Nobody quite knows _how_ Talented, because he refuses to be tested. His focus seems to be empathy - small wonder that he won't let anyone get close. His shields are brittle at the best of times. He also has secondary abilities in telepathy, telekinesis, and, surprisingly, medical."

Cid gave a low whistle. "That's Talent, all right. Still, what good is a Tower Basics course going to do him? If the kid has that many social problems, shouldn't he be down on earth with some T-psych therapist who'll unravel his brain?"

Gren sighed, his tone coloured with obvious frustration. "He won't talk, they've tried. He has a real problem with crowds, authority figures, won't stay in school, won't listen to anyone."

"So why the heck is he HERE?" Cid asked, for the second time. "Who on Earth authed it?"

Gren gave a surreptitious glance to both sides, as if to make sure nobody was listening. "Apparently, the scut is that Tsuzuki sweet-talked Reidinger into it."

"Tsuzuki?"

"Asato Tsuzuki, works for one of the 'special divs', but that's pretty much all we know about him. Must have some kind of influence, because he was in Reidinger's office for a good half hour. Next thing we know, Reidinger's telling us to get a security ID for the kid and pack him in with the others. Not that the kid himself seemed terribly thrilled about it."

Cid pondered. "And if he doesn't listen to anyone, then what am I supposed to be doing with him?"

Gren shrugged. "I have no idea. If he gets to be too much of a handful, send him back, express shuttle. Otherwise, just bear with him for as long as you can... and try to keep the damage to a minimum."

"Damage!? What do you mean-"

"Sorry, Cid, gotta go, things are crazy here! Gren interrupted hastily. "Hang in there, and I'll call you at the end of the week for a status report. Gren out."

The screen flickered and went dead.

Later that night, Nagi lay on his bed, staring up at the roof. Alone, again, thank goodness.

The darkness surrounded him, wrapped him in its cloak of comfort. It was the only time he could relax, let down his guard even a little, here in his quarters at night. During the day he had to keep up his polite, earnest exterior so as not to have the Tower staff worry about him, but it was wearing him down, day by day.

There wasn't anybody he could talk to, nobody who could understand. The others had moved on with their lives, as he should have, by now. But somehow, he found himself left behind, the only one still mourning the loss of the man who had been everything to him; friend, and father both. It seemed like a betrayal, to move on and forget him.

He rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow. Sometimes he wished he'd been in the hovercraft along with McDohl when the accident had occurred. The oblivion of death seemed almost appealing, compared with this terrible emptiness. If only he could disappear, if only he wasn't so valuable.

No, he thought bitterly, not him. It was his abilities that were needed, FT&T didn't care a toss for _him_, Nagi Naoe, only what he could do. If only he could give his Talent away, then he wouldn't have to feel so guilty about seeking an end to his existence.

The door chimed.

Nagi mentally groaned. He didn't want to see or talk to anyone, but his sense of responsibility wouldn't let him ignore it. He mentally reached out to brush the mind of the person on the other side of the door, to discern their identity. Emeralda.

In response to his touch, Emeralda 'pathed him. Nagi, it's me. Can I come in, please?

I'm tired, Em, I was just going to bed...

Please? I only want to say good night.

Nagi had always been too soft-hearted to resist Emeralda's pleading little-girl tones. All right, come in.

He heard the door slide open, and then the young woman swept into his bedroom. Off-duty, she had exchanged her jumpsuit for a long, flowing dress. It suited her, Nagi had to admit. It had been dyed in shades of blue and green, and her hair was loose and spilt over his shoulders, a very pale green, the colour of seafoam.

She sat down on the bed beside him, since he hadn't bothered to get up. Nagi did, however, roll over and sit up, trying to straighten his shirt which had somehow become twisted. Emeralda reached out and stilled his fumbling hands, and then proceeded to straighten it for him. Her touch was gentle, and resonated with sympathy, but he wanted none of it.

They had been lovers, he knew, Emeralda and McDohl. It was a casual thing, for McDohl hadn't wanted to settle down so young, but Emeralda had always had hopes that when he did, she would be the one he chose. His death had robbed her of her intended partner, and of all of them, her grief was closest to his own.

"Did you want something, Emeralda?" He asked, knowing he was being short, but unable to hold up the fa�ade for much longer, especially in the face of her understanding.

"Just to see how you were, Nagi." She brushed his hair back from his face, and her fingers were cool upon his forehead.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You look tired, and you feel all washed out." Emeralda was a T-4, and something of an empath in her own right. When he had been at full strength she wouldn't have had a prayer of reading him, but now, with his shields cracking more quickly than he could replace them, she seemed to be reading him all too clearly.

"I just need more sleep. They're working me ragged with the new shipments, that's all."

"Nagi... Nagi, please. Won't you let me help you?"

Somehow her arm had slipped around his shoulders, while he wasn't thinking. He contemplated her offer. It was almost tempting, to let her take his burden for just a little while. He was so very tired. He let his head fall against her arm, closing his eyes.

"It's ok, Nagi, just let me take care of you."

Her fingers were upon his hair again, stroking gently. It was nice to be held, comforted like this. Was this what having a mother was like, he wondered? She had drawn him close now, against her chest. She was soft and rounded, and he felt his memory stir--

And then he caught a sudden mental flash. Himself and Emeralda - entwined together on the bed. He drew back as though he had been burnt, staring at the Capellan in shock. That thought hadn't come from him. _That_ was what she wanted from him? She wanted to take him as a lover?

And then he realised. She didn't want him, no more than FT&T wanted him. She just wanted somebody to replace McDohl, and must have decided that he was young and vulnerable enough to mould into what she wanted.

"I'm not him! I can't ever be him!" He was horrified at the catch in his voice, that sounded so much like a sob.

"Nagi?? What are you talking about?" Her eyes were wide in seeming confusion. Was she really so innocent, not even realising what she was doing? Or was she still playing him, just as so many others had before?

"I can't replace McDohl for you. I don't want to be your lover. I just wanted you to be my friend, that's all."

He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't let her see his weakness.

"Nagi, I _am_ your friend. We both miss him, I just thought that we could mourn together--"

She reached for him again, but he drew back further, holding up his hand, as a barrier between them.

"I mourn by myself. Please, Emeralda... just leave." He looked down at the blankets, knowing that she would take it as rejection. He didn't want to hurt her, but he couldn't cope with this, not now.

"Nagi--"

"Please."

"All right, Nagi. You know where to find me if you need me." She sounded hurt, betrayed. He refused to look up, knowing that he would see tears brimming in wide golden eyes. Instead, he flopped back down onto his stomach, and didn't watch as she walked out of his room. The door slid open, and then shut, and he was alone again, in the darkness.

It was going to be a long night.

Unfamiliar sights and sounds, and too many people, all of them tossing and catching emotions in quick, brutal spikes and eddying streams, all of them battering at his shields, threatening to swamp him, drown him. He shied away from their greetings and laughter, watching them warily. They peered at him like he was some exotic animal, interesting for a brief moment or two, but when he only answered their questions in monosyllables or not at all, they quickly lost interest.

They were discussing their quarters, and the woman who would be looking after them, neither of which concerned him. He was standing by the wall, shoulder pressed against it, as if he might be absorbed into it, if he leant hard enough.

Then the chatter changed topic to the Prime, Naoe Nagi. Hisoka continued to feign disinterest, but began to take note of their words. It was always wise to know one's foe. The general opinion of the students, however, seemed to be one of respect. One or two commented on his youth, though it was well-known that he was only sixteen, he barely looked even that, in the flesh.

The smallest of the girls declared dreamily that he was absolutely gorgeous, and he could 'hear' that some of the older females echoed her sentiments, even if they didn't express it in quite the same terms. This fact, if anything, only made him more suspicious. Beautiful exteriors had a way of masking the most dangerous thorns, he knew.

"What did you think of him, Hisoka?"

The sound of his name set his heart thudding wildly, but he controlled the response enough to simply look over his shoulder, expression bored. It was the short-haired girl that had spoken, Hitomi, if he recalled correctly. She had seemed polite and a little shy, and he wondered warily why she was making an effort to include him now.

"I don't think he's as all-powerful as everybody seems to think he is," he said, with a shrug. In truth, the sheer power conveyed in the tentative mental greeting had dismayed him. Though the shaft of thought had been as gentle as a feather's brush, he had felt the steely strength beneath it. He knew it was the sort of power that could rip a mind apart, if Nagi had the inclination, and Hisoka knew that he couldn't shield against it, if it ever happened.

Hitomi looked bewildered and a little offended at his response, and Hisoka marked her down as one already caught in Naoe's spell.

The golden-haired twin sneered, "Perhaps he is jealous--"

"--because the Prime is better-looking than he is," her sister completed the sentence.

Why on earth would he notice, much less care about that? His utter confusion at this statement must have shown, because the first twin, Nariya, broke into delighted laughter. "See how he plays coy?"

"How delightful," the other agreed, nodding.

"Oh, leave him alone." The girl with the pink ponytail growled, authority in her tone despite her small stature, and everyone obediently turned towards her. "We've got better things to discuss, like tomorrow's classes. Does anyone actually have the specs for Altair's generator? I figure we'll be given access in the morning, but it can't hurt to be prepared."

Hisoka could sense nothing particularly altruistic in Genkai's 'rescue', save for the fact that she had already taken a dislike to the twin telepaths, and disapproved of their behaviour. But then, she also disapproved of his, he noted, with a mental smirk. Well, that didn't bother him. It was no concern of his what others thought of him.

The peculiar-looking orange-haired boy was rummaging around in his backpack, spreading its contents haphazardly about the floor, and the other students seemed to have broken up into smaller groups. Apparently not all of those present seemed inclined to begin study before classes had even begun, and were continuing to exchange what gossip they knew of Altair and its Tower.

Time for him to sneak away, he would learn nothing of use here tonight. He pushed his hands more deeply into his pockets, and slipped down the corridor, with a quick backwards glance. Nobody noticed him leave.

Hisoka palm-scanned the door to his allocated quarters open. The rooms within obviously hadn't yet been programmed with any prefs, because they remained as black as night. For a moment, panic seeped in, and he rebuked himself sharply. There was nobody inside - he'd be able to feel them before he saw them, anyhow.

He stepped in, and demanded, "Lights." Obediently, the computer switched them on, and the room was bathed in warm, creamy light. He relaxed another fraction as he scanned the room quickly and found everything in order, and then jumped suddenly as the door slipped shut behind him.

He _had_ to stop being so jumpy, he told himself severely. It wasn't as if anything could sneak up on an empath of his abilities.

He took a deep, calming breath, and began to inspect his quarters. They were probably fairly conservative, compared with what most of the students were used to, but they suited him just fine. The bedroom contained a bed of ample proportions, and he wondered cynically what sort of extra-curricular activities they were trying to encourage.

He returned to the livingroom, and settled down upon the couch, rummaging through his carisak and digging out a datapad. Might as well read, he thought, to while away the time. He was sick of staring blankly at walls and ceilings.

He was halfway through the second chapter when the door chimed.

He turned towards it with irritation, stretching out his senses to enfold whoever was on the other side of it. That Edea woman. And she was feeling... motherly, was the closest word he could think to describe it. The whole sensation set his teeth on edge, and he was tempted to simply leave the door locked and not respond. But if he did, he knew that they'd probably force their way in anyhow, thinking something was wrong.

He set his datapad down and returned to the entry hall, pressing the pad to open the door. It slid open to reveal the Stationmaster's wife, standing there with a pile of garments in her arms.

"Yes?" Asked Hisoka without preamble, anxious to be left alone again.

Edea gave him a smile, which irritated him further. "Hello. Hisoka, wasn't it?" Without waiting for him to answer, she continued. "I noticed that you only had the one carisack when you came in. I thought you might need a few more changes of clothes, until your other things arrive."

Without even bothering to scan, Hisoka _knew_ that she was quite aware that he had no other things coming. She'd somehow guessed that Hisoka didn't have anything more than one spare set of clothing, and had felt sorry for him. The thought immediately had him up in arms.

"I don't need your pity," he said defensively. "I'm nobody's charity case."

He'd thought that his rudeness would be enough to drive her away. But apparently, she was either completely oblivious, or was choosing to ignore it. What an irrational woman.

"They're only on loan, so it's hardly charity."

The gentleness of her tone frightened him. He preferred being cursed at, told off, he knew how to cope with that. This was a situation he didn't know how to deal with.

"I don't care, I don't want them. Go find some other colony brat to treat, make yourself feel good that you've helped the underprivileged." And with that, he palmed the door closed again, setting it to locked. He was sure he'd receive some kind of disciplinary action for that little outburst in the morning, but at least she wasn't likely to bother trying to help him with anything further.

And then the clothes appeared in a neat pile, just inside the door.

Hisoka jumped backwards a pace in surprise. Damn teleporters! He slid the door open again, but the woman was already gone, and he was left scowling at an empty corridor. The door closed again with a rush of sound, and he was left alone in his room, with only a pile of clothing to keep him company.

Glaring at the clothes as if they had done something to earn his enmity, he picked up the pile and dumped it in the corner. He certainly wasn't going to wear them, but he'd figure out how to give them back in the morning. Then he returned to the couch and scooped up his datapad.

This book probably wouldn't last him more than an hour or so, he thought with a mental sigh. He'd need at least a few more to last him the night. He keyed the datapad quickly, connecting to the Station's computer, wondering if he had access to the library. After a few moments the connection was authorised, so it seemed he did indeed.

He chose another handful of titles at random, and downloaded them to his hand-held unit. That should keep him occupied until classes in the morning, he figured.

He couldn't afford to sleep. Not here, not now. There was nowhere that was far enough away, nowhere he was safe. But if he didn't sleep, didn't dream... he might be all right. For a little while, at least. Safe from silver eyes.

So he settled back on the couch with his socked feet tucked beneath him, and began to read.

It was going to be a long night.