Midnight Rose

[Belle]

The events of the Graveyard take place here

The ground fell out from under her, and Belle tumbled through empty space, falling end over end through the darkness between worlds. She knew this sensation by now - knew that at any moment she would come to an abrupt stop somewhere. She braced for impact.

It didn't come.

"So," an unfamiliar voice spoke, booming across infinity, its tone laced with amusement. "Made it through okay, huh? That's cool."

Belle twisted around, trying to see the speaker. The words seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, surrounding her in all directions. She knew without specific knowledge of the magic the Spirit used that this wasn't normal. Someone, or something, had inserted itself into this space.

"Who are you?" she shouted into the inky blackness.

It laughed. The hairs on the back of Belle's neck stood up. "S'not important. Just checking in." The voice seemed to be fading. "Keep doing what you're doing, okay?"

"Hey!" Belle barked, but her voice, too, sounded distant in her ears. "You didn't answer-"

There was a sensation of slowing, a yanking deceleration that made her neck ache, of settling into place.

Belle opened her eyes, squinting as the overhead light of Yuki's bathroom blazed down into her aching irises. Her head felt fuzzy, hazy, waking from a dream. She had been falling, and then... And then...

What?

Something had happened. She strained to remember, but the harder she tried, the more it slipped away. Strange. That had been one insane nightmare. Everything up to the end of it was so... Vivid. Mickey Mouse, and the boy Blues. Even the Hero of Time had been there. Nights spent camping, the violence, the fear, the thrill of victory - she remembered it all.

She had to stop stressing out. She couldn't take more dreams like that.

With a sigh, Belle sat up. The toilet wasn't going to clean itself, after all. Maybe if she hurried, she could still catch Lily before she made it home.

Adjusting her rubber glove, Belle knelt by the bowl. She lifted the brush still clutched in her hand, then stopped.

She stared at it, a chill trickling down her spine. The brush was gone. Instead, clutched tight in her fingers, was a hot neon pink crowbar.

~+~+~+~

Yuki looked up as Belle exited the house and slumped onto the inner porch. Seated on the steps leading down to the courtyard, Yuki turned her attention back to her tea. Typical, she thought. "That didn't seem like a thorough cleaning," she said.

"Screw cleaning," the red-head snapped. "Lily's out, and I'm not wasting any more time here."

"She'll live," Yuki reminded her, annoyance creeping into her voice. "And you're not going anywhere until you've finished."

"To Hell with that."

Yuki stopped, the tea almost to her lips. Slowly, she lowered the mug, then stood up. She folded her hands behind her. "You made a commitment to obey my instructions," she said, her voice low. "Have you forgotten already?" She paused, then sneered over her shoulder. "Or perhaps you're ready to quit?"

Something blazed in Belle's azure eyes, something that Yuki had seen only a few times before. It was the same fire she had seen that day when she had crushed the girl's fingers, the same as when Belle had finally been able to move the kyuuketsu stone. It was the look that had convinced Yuki to take a chance on her in the first place.

"I haven't forgotten," Belle said. "And I'm not quitting." She pointed. "You said I could go if I hit Pickles, right?"

The dog looked up from his spot on the porch. Yuki stared at the girl, flexing her fingers, rubbing the pad of her thumb against her knuckles. "Yes," she said. "And you failed. Remember?"

"Well, I'm going to do it this time."

Yuki shook her head. "That's not how it works. You get one chance to do things right." She pulled her right hand from behind her back and stuck her index finger skyward. "One."

Belle's brow furrowed. "What? That's a load of crap. You've given me plenty of chances to get things right before. My ankles are black and blue from all of your damned reminders-!... Sensei." The girl added the last, again, like an afterthought. It was a habit that was quickly becoming annoying. "What's the real reason? Afraid I'll win?"

The provocation was immeasurably childish. The girl had no concept what true fear was. Moreover, she lacked the intelligence to grasp the basic lesson Yuki was trying to show her.

Still, there was that look...

"Hmph," Yuki snorted. She snapped her fingers. "Mister Pickles. Another lesson."

To her modest surprise, Belle bowed in thanks as the dog rose onto its hind legs. If nothing else, perhaps it had taught her some respect. The two students returned to the courtyard, and Yuki followed. They assumed the distance, and Yuki raised her hand.

"Begin," she said, her hand coming down.

A red blur shoved past her, displaced air whipping her robes. Belle was next to Pickles before Yuki could draw breath.

What in the Omniverse?

Pickles had leapt back to create some distance, but the girl's sudden speed had caught him off guard. Belle's hand lashed out, open palmed, seeking as the dog attempted to twist away. She struck the startled canine across the muzzle, sending him spinning through the air.

Pickles landed on all fours on the porch, staring, then sat, his tongue lolling out in apparent satisfaction.

Belle's chest heaved as she straightened up. "There," she panted. "Done. I'm going now. I'll be back tomorrow."

Yuki could say nothing to object. She stared as the girl retrieved her things and jogged into the house. She heard the front door open and shut.

Pickles whined. "I'm not angry," Yuki said. "Quit your worrying. You shouldn't be so easily caught off guard, however."

The dog barked an affirmative, his eyes hard, and Yuki knew he would take her words to heart. He was an easy student to manage, unlike some.

Her eyes turned back to the courtyard, to the twin divots Belle's feet had made in the grass. That was Shunpo, she thought. No mistaking it. But where had Belle learned it, and how? Had it been a fluke?

There were many questions - ones she would have to look into. Later. For now, her tea was cold. "Come," she beckoned, and Mister Pickles followed her as she retrieved her cup and re-entered the house.