— quarante-trois ; forty three —

THE FOXHOLE COURT wasn't as large as Edgar Allan's stadium but the colour scheme, blinding white with orange fox paws printed on the walls, gave the impression it was bigger than it actually was. Abby told him the codes as the she put them in for each gate they passed through and led him through to the lounge, pointing out the men's and women's locker rooms respectively on the way. She pushed open a door at the end of the lounge and Henri heard the loud sounds of a ball ricocheting off the plexiglass walls, the slap of racquets glancing off each other, the muffled sound of voices raised over the slam of bodies in check. The familiar sounds sent thrills of excitement down to his fingertips.

"That'll take you through to the inner court," Abby said. "I'm going to go ahead to my office but feel free to go through. David can get you kitted out in spare gear and with a racquet."

Henri wandered into inner court and hung back at the home benches before anyone could notice him. After the Foxes had cut it so close by scraping through Spring Championships on the bare minimum of players and stealing an astonishing win, the ERC had put their foot down. Wymack had upgraded the team with six new freshmen players and twelve people were on court for a full scrimmage, with the three others sat on the benches watching. Wymack stood by the court door taking notes on what was happening on court. Henri only had to watch for a few minutes to understand where their reputation as a fractured team came from.

Henri had spent an entire semester watching and playing among the Ravens. Despite the fierce sense of competition undercutting the entire team, on the court they played as a cohesive and well-oiled unit, complementing each other's strengths and compensating for any weaknesses. They knew better than to allow any petty difference affect their game because the master would take them off the line-up in a heartbeat and they wouldn't see game time for weeks. Here, the Foxes barely had enough players to make up a full team as it was and every sub would see game time to account for the exhausting rigour of Exy. They could afford to snipe at each other, to knock shoulders and catch sticks even when the ball wasn't in possession, because Wymack wouldn't punish their infighting with the same ruthlessness the master would.

Last spring, the Foxes had been cut down again and again by losses. They had banded together in the face of tragedy, spurned on by the publicity following them and desire for vengeance against the Ravens who had tripped them up at every corner, determined to prove the NCAA wrong. This burst of desperation had been enough for their talent to shine through a rare display of a teamwork so they could finally snatch the title of champions. Things had eventually taken a sharp downhill from there. They had six new teammates to contend with, six new messed up kids who refused to fall in line and take orders, who wouldn't understand teamwork if it slapped them in the face.

There was James Chang, a new backliner sub. Henri had seen or heard little about him from the media surrounding the new Foxes and his gaze didn't linger on him for long. More interesting were the new strikers. First was Sheena O'Brien, whose bright red hair matched her fiery personality as she tore apart the defence, but not with talent or ability. She was a liability, snarking at the backliners every opportunity she got and throwing up the middle finger at whatever response she got. Her biggest offender seemed to be Olive Shaughnessy, the other striker sub, who seemed hellbent of avoiding passing to her when possible and tripped her up where she could despite the two of them being on opposite sides of court.

Luci Dipetro was one of the new dealer subs. She played with a startling amount of aggression for someone so small and excelled at physical altercations where Sheena seemed to focus more on the verbal. Fights always seemed to break out when she threw a punch and by the time Matt had gotten to her, they'd already lose valuable game time. They'd managed to get the ball back in play only for Jack to rebound a ball purposefully off her helmet and set her off once again. Because of course, unsurprisingly, he was the main instigator. He tripped people with footwork too nimble to be caught out, toed the line with the legality of his checks, and took great pleasure in slamming racquets hard enough to send them flying from people's hands.

Despite the chaotic way in which he played, Henri could see Jack was easily the best among all the freshmen on court. He moved across the court with a fluid speed that allowed him to carry the ball between offence and defence with ease, automatically switching the court position he played without having to think about it depending on which end needed more assistance. He lacked any sense of teamwork and played as if he was the only person on the court, but Henri understood from the way he carried the ball and made his rebounds that Exy came naturally to him. It was with grudging respect that Henri had to admit, as a fellow dealer, if he applied himself properly and committed to his team, he could be a force to be reckoned with.

"What the hell is he doing?" Kaelan, the final freshman Fox and sub goalkeeper, watched from the bench as Jack snatched the ball from Neil's net, only to toss it up into the air away from everyone. Jack said something to Neil with a gesture of his hand, which he ignored by turning away, only for Jack to step in his path again and shove a finger in his face. The grated front of his helmet saved him from having an eye taken out. "Andrew's gonna kill him."

"Andrew won't step in," Allison said, bored, where she was leaning against the wall.

Dan looked skeptical. "You've been on a team with him for over two years now, Allison. You watched him choke Kevin because he didn't tell us what happened to Neil fast enough," she said, oblivious to or choosing to ignore the startled look Kaelan shot her. "He's already been toeing the line with how far he can push Neil without pushing Andrew. How many more warnings does he need?"

"Jack is acting out to get a reaction from Neil, to prove he can rile him up, not actually to hurt him,"
Allison said. "The monster will stay out of it because it's not his business and he'll let Neil fight his own battles."

"I'm not sure about that," Dan said, still seeming doubtful.

"Wanna bet?" Allison studied her manicured nails as she considered a number. "Twenty bucks that Andrew won't step in as long as Jack doesn't actually physically hurt Neil."

Dan grinned. "You're on."

"What about you, rookie?" Allison asked, her gaze sliding to Kaelan. "Betting? Throw one in while the pot's still hot."

"I don't know," Kaelan said uncertainly.

"Your loss," Allison said with a shrug. "See?"

She gestured to the court and Henri followed her gloved hand to see Neil had wrapped his fingers in the netting of Jack's racquet, giving it a sharp tug. When Jack just dropped the handle with an exaggerated shrug, Neil threw the racquet aside with enough force that it clattered across the floor and James jumped aside to narrowly avoid being hit with it. Neil stalked back to far-court and brushed aside whatever Kevin tried to say to him on the way with an angry shake of his head. Throughout this entire spectacle, Andrew remained unmoved by his position in goal, leaning against his racquet.

Henri had read enough articles about the Foxes to know Andrew Minyard was the resident psychopath of the team, known for snapping to mindless violence over the smallest things. He wondered what Neil Josten could possibly have over him to have earned his protection.

"For fucks sake," Wymack growled, when only ten minutes later a fight broke out between Luci and Nicky. Aaron stepped in to defend his cousin and Luci's heated anger in the form of punches turned on him. "They can't even go one minute — break it up on there! Get back in the game!"

He pounded his fist against the wall in frustration and stormed onto the court himself when it was evident this one wasn't going to diffuse any time soon. Henri shook his head in disbelief at the sight.

"This team is a joke," he said.

All three Foxes on the benches whirled around to stare at him. "And who the hell are you?" Allison demanded. "I don't need to take opinions from a scrawny little kid who wandered into the wrong building."

Dan sighed at the prickly interaction. "Hi, Henri."

"Henri?" Kaelan looked at him with renewed interest. "As in Henri Moreau, Jean's brother?"

"The very one," Henri said, who was getting sick of being preceded by his brother's name everywhere he went. "Also, you know, an Exy player in my own right."

"Right, because you're a Raven," Allison said, her lip curling with blatant disdain. "And we have so much respect for Ravens around here. I care even less for your opinion now. What the hell are you doing in our stadium?"

"Allison," Dan said, a warning in her words. She touched her friend's arm. "Play nice. What are you doing here, though, Henri?" She turned a curious look on him. "Last we heard, you were staying with Abby until you found your feet again."

"I want to play."

"Last I checked, we didn't sign you up," Allison said rudely.

"I never said I wanted to play for your team," Henri retorted, returning her chilly look with a glare of his own. She was as catty as the media reported and he wasn't in the mood to deal with it. "How you qualified as champions with you're too busy fighting to actually throw a ball is beyond me, and also not my problem. As long as I'm stuck in South Carolina this is the closest stadium and I need to practice."

Wymack returned before any of them could reply to that. He locked the court door behind him, grumbling under his breath as he scribbled something on his clipboard, and only noticed Henri when Dan cleared her throat. "Oh," he said, pausing with his own hovering over paper. He skipped all greetings in favour of a blunt, "how did you get here?"

"Abby drove me down," Henri said.

"Right, okay. Guess we haven't been formally introduced. David Wymack, coach to the Foxes." He went on to gesture to the three Foxes. "Dan is our captain, Allison is a starting dealer, and Kaelan is our sub goalkeeper."

Henri could have pointed out that he already knew all of that, from weeks of studying the Foxes line-up, but he figured there was no reason to antagonise a team that already hated him on principle. "I'm guessing you already know who I am," he said, and waited for a cursory nod from Wymack before continuing. "I want to train with the Foxes while I'm staying in South Carolina."

Wymack eyed him up. "Aren't you supposed to be recovering from some life threatening illness or something? Last I saw you, you were a deliriously feverish mess."

"I wasn't at my best," Henri admitted, "but I'm okay now. Maybe not for full practices, but I need time to reacclimatise myself on court before I return to the Ravens. The master — " He caught himself a second too late and didn't miss the look Dan exchanged with Allison. "Coach Moriyama wouldn't tolerate me coming back to Edgar Allan still rusty. He'd expect me to practice while here. Call him yourself if you don't believe me."

The final sentence was a bluff, seeing as he had no idea what the terms of the agreement Wymack and the master had come to were, but Wymack didn't call him out for it as he considered it. "Alright," he said, and turned back to the court with a sharp blow of his whistle. Kevin caught the ball on a rebound to stop the game and Wymack gestured for the Foxes to file off into inner court when he saw he had their attention. "Might as well get introductions out of the way before they all start pestering me. Most of them will probably be a nuisance about you being here, warning you in advance."

"I know," Henri said. "I've already met Jack, remember?"

Dan snorted with laughter but the arrival of the other Foxes stopped her from saying anything. They all flocked to find a space to sit and most of them stared at Henri on the way past. "Woah,," Nicky said, pointing a racquet at him. "Hold up a second. Am I seeing a ghost? What's Jean doing here? Has he shrunk since we last saw him?"

"Jean isn't dead," Aaron said. "Why would it be his ghost?"

Nicky flicked his fingers. "Oh, you know what I mean. He's basically dead to us all after he ended things with Renee."

"It's his brother." Kevin's green eyes were shrewd as he appraised him with a scrutinising once-over and Henri met his gaze head on. In person, the tattoo high on his left cheekbone was intricately inked. "Henri Moreau."

Henri opened his mouth to reply, but Jack best him to it. "That's his name, don't wear it out," he said, but he was looking at Henri. "Here's a fun surprise. You decided to stay after all?"

"You didn't exactly give me much of a choice."

Olive looked between Jack and Henri. "You two know each other?"

"Mind your own business," Sheena said, as if that comment had been rude and directed at her.

"I wasn't fucking speaking to you," Olive snapped, "so mind your own fucking business."

"Both of you, shut the fuck up for once," Luci said, and spoke over them both when they began arguing back. "What's a Raven doing here? Don't you have your own fancy stadium to run laps in?"

"Better than ours too," Nicky added. "Lot more space. Terrible colour scheme, though. Didn't anyone ever tell you guys black is terrible for interior decor? Really makes a room look small."

"My bad," Henri said, with a measurable dose of sarcasm. "I wasn't around to give my input when they painted the place."

"No, you were still holed up in France then, right?" Jack asked, tipping his head with a wide eyed look of i innocence no one believed for a second. "What was that like? Oh, hey, you should have a chat with our vice captain over here. He probably had a stopover in France during his mad escapade across Europe. Maybe you guys crossed paths at some time."

Neil said nothing and his expression didn't change but the almost imperceptible darkening of his blue eyes gave away that Jack's constant taunts were probably finally getting to him. Among all the media buzz surrounding the Foxes since their unexpected win last season, the powerplay between Jack and Neil had became evident from their first game of the season. Neil was one the most improved players to have entered NCAA, from a freshmen with a shocking lack of experience for class I to a striker who could hold his own with none other than Kevin Day. Jack had a much more promising start — he'd been playing Exy since Little Leagues despite a shaky track record with the authorities — and hit the ground running.

"That's enough from all of you," Wymack cut in, before anymore bickering could start up. "Let's get this over this. Henri's staying with Abby while he fully recovers from his stay in hospital and he'll be joining us on court every so often for practice. Acquaint yourself with names and faces in your own time. I want you lot to be on your best behaviour for our guest and please, for the love of god, try to keep the drama to a minimum."

Matt laughed in disbelief. "Tall order, coach. You forgot who you're speaking to."

"Hey," Luci said, and it took Henri a moment to realise she was talking to him. "What was wrong with you? Last anyone saw of you was at the Banquet."

"Looking a little worse for wear," Jack added unhelpfully.

Henri narrowed his eyes at him. "Does it matter?"

"No, but we're curious," Allison said. "Might as feed the hysteria now because you can bet no one's gonna stop bugging you until you tell us."

"Bug away, then. I'm just here to play," he said, with an expectant look towards Wymack. "I don't have any of my gear with me."

Wymack understood the less than subtle hint. "Okay, now that's all cleared up, everyone clear off. Half an hour break to grab a drink, cool down, whatever you want. Jack," he said, and waited until the dealer dragged his blue gaze to him. "Go lend Henri your spare gear."

"Why me, coach?" Jack said petulantly.

"Because you're the only other dealer closest to his size," Wymack said, "and because I told you to do. Don't think I've let you off the hook yet, Robinson. You and I still need that talk."

"Sorry, coach, that'll have to wait. Didn't you hear?" Jack jerked a thumb at Henri with a conspiratorial expression. "I have to loan my stuff out to frenchie. That'll fill up my whole break."

Wymack rolled his eyes. "Beat it to the locker room."

In the locker room, Jack rooted through his locker and tossed random pieces of gear haphazardly over his shoulder. Henri sank down on one of the benches to wait him out and scrubbed sleepily at his eyes. It wasn't that he was actually tired, he couldn't possibly be after basically sleeping through the day, but his body was already aching as if he'd run a marathon. That was just something he'd have to run off on court.

"Thoughts on the Foxes?" Jack asked.

Henri shrugged. "They seem fine. A little...volatile, but everyone plays well enough."

"Well enough, he says." Jack considered his away game jersey, orange print on white, and threw it at Henri. He barely caught it out of the air in time. "I'm sure we have nothing on your best friends back in West Virginia, but let me tell you now what we lack in ability, we absolutely don't make up for in team moral. The upperclassmen regret the day they ever recruited six more little fuck-up's, I'm sure. As if they didn't have enough."

"They didn't exactly have a choice," Henri pointed out. "Wasn't that the condition to allow them to remain in the class I division? Have enough subs for every position?"

"I suppose so. I bet Ravens never have problems like this," Jack said, with an entirely unconvincing sigh.

"No, their issues fall more along the lines of being so desperate to make it to the top they'll cut anyone and everyone off at the knees fo beat them." Henri pulled his shirt off and began changing out into the kit Jack had handed out to him. "A delightfully toxic environment but the worst part? Players all over the country are aiming to get to that team. It's five years of guaranteed trauma."

"Trauma yields results."

"Said no sane person ever. Now you sound like a Raven. Exy is just a sport," Henri said, thinking of the gun to his parents head and the chains that bound him to Exy for life. "It shouldn't have such expectations and consequences."

"Oh, frenchie, that's where you're wrong." Jack made his way to the door but paused with a hand on the door, glancing back at Henri. His smile was as mocking ever but there was something in his bright gaze that made Henri pause. "Exy isn't just a sport. It's an escape. For most of the people, it's the only escape they'll ever get."