— vingt-deux ; twenty two —

HENRI COULDN'T FOCUS ON practice the day his identity was revealed to the public.

With every pass he made and each time he scooped up the ball into his net, he was aware the ERC was releasing his name to the press and articles were probably already popping up all over the internet. Whenever he made a shot on goal or someone checked him, he thought about Jean waking up this morning to learn he had a brother who transferred to the team he used to play for the moment he left. The next time he left Evermore, reporters would be swamping him. Henri couldn't believe a time was coming where he'd come to find the claustrophobic black hole of the Nest a safe haven.

"Moreau!"

Henri jolted back to the scrimmage but it was too late. KJ had already checked him and stolen possession of the ball by the time Henri had come to his senses, and by the time he'd run to catch up, KJ had already passed off to Jude. Henri gritted his teeth and ignored the harsh warning Alixis gave him when she passed. He forced all thoughts of the outside world from his head and focused on the game for the rest of practice as best as he could. He was expecting Soren to chew him out when they all piled into inner court for break, but all he received was the usual criticisms regarding his playing ability. Henri suspected the more personal feedback would come later.

There was a free spot on the bench next to Loren, but Henri stayed standing with the excuse of stretching out while the Master gave them a rundown. Nothing in her expression said she noticed but he still felt a little uncomfortable. It wasn't that they were avoiding each other, it was just that they'd come to a silent agreement to give the other some space. Henri didn't know if their friendship could ever return to what it had been and was surprised at how much that bothered him. It was only now he realised how much he actually relied on her as a friend.

"Where's Jude?" Benjamin asked.

"Picking the other Ravens up from the airport," Soren answered. "I know it's not ideal that anyone leaves now that the freshmen's details are out, but they need to come back in time for the school year tomorrow."

"Let's hope the reporters don't get their first opinion of Moreau Junior from Jude," Aria said, although she looked practically gleeful at the thought. "He'll have anything but nice comments to say about his newest teammate."

"Good thing we share the same opinion regarding each other," Henri said flatly. "Only difference is, the media already know much of a cu — "

"Enough," Soren said, flicking him a look.

Henri shrugged. "It's the truth."

When they were finally released from practice, Henri lingered for longer than usual under the water and was the last one to leave the showers. He didn't realise Soren was waiting for him until he caught Henri by the shoulder and threw him back against the cold tile wall, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough that he couldn't push away if he wanted to. Henri wasn't sure he wanted to. Soren had never touched him outside their room, and even though he knew this wasn't sexual, his skin still heated up in response.

"What did I say about playing like that?" he demanded. "You don't step on my court with baggage. You leave it at the door before taking position."

Henri tipped his chin defiantly up. "Oh, is that what you do?"

"Get your head in the game."

"It is," Henri said, glaring at him.

Soren glared back. "Don't lie to me."

"Then don't say stupid things to me. I'm focusing as much as I can, and if that isn't good enough for you, fuck you."

Henri gave him a light shove to the shoulders and Soren stepped backwards, so he was standing directly under the shower head. Henri didn't move his gaze away from Soren's as he slowly reached out and flicked the shower on. The water drenched him in seconds, plastering his hair to his temples and tracing rivulets down his bare skin, and Henri couldn't even imagine what self-restraint was in that moment. He could, however, remember exactly what Soren's slick wet skin felt like pressed against his and how the heat of his kiss burnt away any chill from the water.

"You are infuriating," Soren muttered against his lips.

Henri moved his mouth down to the soft skin at the side of his throat and sucked, hard enough to make Soren moan low in his throat. "Tell me something I don't know," Henri muttered back.

Henri knew they probably shouldn't do this here, not while the others would be wondering what was taking them so long and one of them might make the mistake of coming to find out where they were, but he also couldn't bring himself to care. It wasn't exactly a secret and the upperclassmen already suspected it. Just because they didn't touch each other in front of others didn't mean they had anything to hide. With that thought in mind, Henri lowered to his knees and swallowed Soren without a second thought.

Even though the water had washed all traces away, Henri could still taste Soren on his tongue when they eventually returned to the living area, dressed and still a little damp from the shower. He soon forgot about that when he saw that the numbers had doubled in size, the Nest suddenly feeling a whole lot smaller with the other Ravens even though there was still plenty of space for all of them. Henri looked at all the faces he hadn't bothered remembering in their absence and found he still didn't care about their existence.

"They're going a little crazy out there for you, rookie," one of the Ravens said. "Security are having a field day trying to get them off Edgar Allan property."

"Quite a few just want a glimpse of you," another added. "Maybe you should just give the people what they want."

"No," Soren said, before Henri could say anything. "Right now, anything we give them will be spun out of proportion and just encourage the attention. Let things die down before we make an official comment."

Matthias fished the remote out from between the sofa cushions and flicked the TV on. It didn't take long to find the sports channel, and Henri felt a little sick when he saw an image of his own face blown up on screen. "...shocking news that among the Ravens' newest recruits is none other than Jean Moreau's younger brother, Henri Sebastien Moreau, whose existence was unknown to Exy fans until today," the reporter was saying. "There has been no word from any of the Ravens at Castle Evermore and Edgar Allan hasn't released anything beyond the original statement. Laura, any better on your side?"

"No such luck here, Ted," the woman replied. "Although more than one reporter has attempted to get a glimpse of the recently transferred Trojan, Jean Moreau has not come forward and as of right now Coach Rheman says he has nothing to say on the matter."

"I can only imagine how shocking this was for the former Raven," Ted told the camera with a grave expression. "While there is no concrete confirmation of this, sources tell us Jean had no idea there was another sibling in the picture, forget one good enough to sign up for the Ravens. All we know for sure right now, Laura, is that the whole country will have it's eyes on Henri Moreau when — "

The TV screen went black. Henri didn't realise he was the one who had switched it off until he saw the remote in his hand and felt all eyes on him. He felt like his skin was crawling at the thought of news station all over the world discussing his name, when he'd been conditioned from a young age to keep his very existence quiet. It felt too wrong.

"Hey," Aria complained. "Some of us were watching that."

Henri tossed the remote to her. "Knock yourself out."

He continued down the Black Hall and went straight for his room, not in the mood to deal with people anymore. He didn't bother changing his clothes, just kicking his shoes off before crawling onto bed and dragging the covers up over his head. It was a long time before Henri managed to even doze off, but he was determined to sleep the rest off this day off for as long as possible. When he did sleep, his dreams were strange and convoluted fragments he couldn't recall no matter how hard he tried.

— — — —

The following day came too quickly. Not only did Henri have to finally face the cameras waiting for him,  but he had to attend his classes, the first classes he would ever go to in his life. Henri had never stepped foot in a school in France and it felt strange that his first experience learning with other people would be at an American college.

"I was homeschooled, you know," Henri said.

Soren had just finished brushing his teeth and met Henri's gaze in the mirror above the sink. "What?"

"Yeah." Henri wasn't sure why he had told him that. He knew it was a little because he wanted to stall for time, put off the inevitable for a little longer, but he'd already told Soren more of the truth than he thought he'd ever willingly tell anyone. "I want to say it was an eye-opening experience, but it's all I know. I've never had lessons with other people before."

"That explains the attitude problem," Soren said.

It was such a typical Soren response Henri couldn't help cracking a smile. "You're an asshole." He returned to packing his recently purchased schoolbag, thinking the conversation was over, and felt like he'd been punched in the stomach at Soren's next question.

"When did your parents die?"

It took Henri a moment too long to reply and even then he felt like he was speaking around knives. "The day before I came here."

Soren said nothing and Henri forced himself to turn around to see his reaction to that. Soren was staring at him, his green eyes so intense Henri felt like he was looking right into his soul, and he couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away. The sick ache that had settled in his chest felt a little too fresh and he was finding it hard to breathe around it.

"They were murdered," Soren said, not quite a question.

Henri took an unsteady step back. "I'm not — I can't talk about this."

He knew Soren wouldn't push it any further but he still had to leave the room before he started feeling like he was suffocating. Kit and Lucas were waiting in the living area for him and attributed his strange mood to nerves about having to step outside Castle Evermore. "Don't worry," Lucas assured him. "There's security ready to escort us to campus and the reporters aren't legally allowed on campus. You don't have to talk to them if you don't want to."

Kit nodded. "Exactly. Besides, what are you worried about? You can just karate chop them into the ground if they try anything."

"No, he can't," Lucas frowned. "It's one thing to do it here, in privacy. In the real world? That's called assault."

"You're so boring, Lucas."

"It's the law."

"What's the deal with you and Loren, by the way?" Kit asked, losing interest in a conversation revolving around the justice system. "I thought she'd walk down with you but she left with Xander. Things have seemed a little off between you for a few days."

"It's nothing," Henri said dismissively. "Just a minor disagreement."

"What, she confessed her love and you rejected her?"

Henri stared at him. "You knew about it too?"

"Wait, what?" Lucas gaped at Henri and exchanged a startled look with Kit. "No way. That seriously happened?"

Too late, Henri realised his mistake. Kit had very obviously been joking but Henri was still a little out of it after the conversation in the bedroom, and now he'd spilled what was supposed to be something private Loren had shared with him in confidence.

"No," Henri said hastily, in a pitiful attempt to backpedal. "No, I didn't mean — "

"It did happen," Lucas said, with wide eyes. "Loren has a crush on you? And you turned her down?"

"Why the hell would you do that?" Kit said incredulously. "Loren is hot."

Henri began walking to the stairs. "No one rejected anyone. We decided to stay friends and that's the end of it, so don't say a word of this to anyone."

"Decided to stay friends?" Kit was undeterred by his obvious reluctance to talk about it. "And how's that working out?"

"Not a word," Henri repeated in warning.

The conversation had to end when they stepped outside the stadium and the cameras immediately moved closer, flashing and snapping. Henri ducked his head to avoid the questions, mainly for him with a few directed towards Kit and Lucas, and Lucas kept a steadying hand at the small of his back to keep him moving forward. It wasn't unbearable as they had a full security escort that prevented any reporter getting too close, but Henri didn't want to have to put up with this everyday. He hoped within a week they'd grow bored and find a new story to go harass.

The rest of the day was only slightly better as Henri had to deal with the inquisition from his fellow students. Campus had come to life now, societies handing out flyers and the marching band making rounds to rile up school spirit. Henri felt as if every person he passed somehow recognised him. Even if they didn't follow Exy, that he was a secret brother of Jean Moreau was enough to get their interest. In all his classes, he was subject to stares and whispers and the occasional bold person who asked him if it was really true.

"Yes," Henri would reply each time with gritted teeth, a little closer to losing his patience. "It's really true."

Henri was exhausted just getting through the day by the time evening practice came, and the Master's speech before before they were sent on for drills was just a reminder that things would only get harder from here on out.

"With the start of the school year, comes our first match in two weeks," the Master said. "That means we scale up, not back. I do not care if you now have assignments or tutoring slots — Exy is and always will be your first priority. Academics is secondary. Practice starts at 6AM and you will be released at 8AM for lessons, expected to be back here by 4PM for evening practice. When travelling to and from campus, between lessons, you will go with the pair you have been assigned to. Don't you dare walk anywhere alone. Is that understood?"

Henri nodded along with the others and glanced at Soren. That meant not only did they share a room, but they had to stick together outside Evermore and the only time they would have a break from one another would be during lessons. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, beyond the fact it would be impossible that they wouldn't end up sick of each other by the end of the year. If Soren wasn't already sick of him.

Somehow, Henri managed to survive the rest of the week. It was considerably easier considering Soren accompanied him to campus and anytime a persistent reporter did manage to slip the security, he addressed any questions or thoughts they had. And politely told them, in as many words, to get lost when they pushed too far. He was already swamped in schoolwork by Friday, and considering Exy practice swallowed up the entirety of his evenings, he had an entire weeks worth of assignments piled up on the desk in his bedroom he'd never had a reason to use until now. It was only because practice was shorter on Fridays that he had time now.

"This is ridiculous," Henri grumbled, chewing the end of his pen as he stared down at the blank piece of paper that he was waiting to magically transform into a five page essay on the impact of Hitler's Reich on German Economy. "With the Exy and school hours, when do they expect us to complete all this shit?"

"During free periods, like the rest of us," Soren answered, from his bed. Henri wished he was more surprised that Soren had, of course, managed to finish all his assignments so he was free to spend his Friday evening how he wanted — holed up with his laptop.  "Don't complain when your time management is the issue here."

"My time management is fine, dickhead."

Soren slanted a look at him. "And how do you spend your free periods?"

Henri settled with scowling at him in response. Okay, so maybe Henri spent more time napping during free periods than studying, but that was a carefully considered decision which he had no regrets about. If he didn't sleep then, when else was he supposed to? Liza had called him in for shifts twice during the week, claiming the sudden influx of students meant Matt's Bar was busier than usual, and he barely got more than four hours on those days because of the late hours he got in and early morning practices. If he wanted to be more than a walking corpse and actually keep up on the Ravens court, he would need more sleep.

"Quit your job," Soren said, as if reading his thoughts. "You know you'll just keep falling behind if you try to keep it."

"I can't quit."

"Why?"

Henri bit down harder on his pen. "Because I need the money. Why do you think?"

"You don't need anything. The team card pays for any necessities such as food."

It wasn't about food, though, and Henri didn't know how to explain it without giving more away than he already had. The Moriyamas already owned him and he had nothing to his name — not even the clothes on his back were bought with his money. There wasn't much he could do with the few hundred bucks he would end up saving up from his job, besides the satisfaction and security of knowing it was his. He could do with it and spend it however he wanted, the Master and the Ravens be damned.

"You don't understand," Henri muttered.

"Don't tell me I don't understand what it is not to have money." Henri looked up at the edge in his tone at Soren's hard expression. "If the Master finds out you have a job, outside his knowledge, he won't be happy."

"Well, he won't find out," Henri said. "Will he?"

Soren looked back down at his laptop. "Still as suicidal as ever."

"I'll take that as a no."

Henri forcibly turned his attention back to the essay, of which he'd so far managed to write the title and his name. Great progress. A fruitless ten minutes later, Henri had written one vague sentence about Hitler dominating Germany and gave up. He shoved the essay aside and reached for his sketchpad, which was sitting atop all the textbooks he'd piled in the corner of his desk. Technically, this was studying. He was working on an independent project for art. Sure, he thought, flicking the sketchpad open. Independent project.

He skipped past all the random sketches of coffee mugs and potted plants, things he'd done to remind himself how pencil worked on paper, to the newest thing he had been working on. Henri wasn't certain what exactly it was, the barest outline blooming in his head which he'd just sketched out on paper without any clue what he was drawing. That's how his best drawings came about, something random and not thought through, but that he had to bring to life. A dark background framed an even darker, shadowy figure, smudged at the edges and indistinct. The outline of large wings was begin to unfurl and take shape around the figure.

He was absorbed in his task, head ducked low and strands of hair falling in his eyes, when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and groaned at the text waiting for him. Soren looked at him in silent question when Henri stood up, essays and sketchpad forgotten on the desk.

Henri sighed and held up his phone. "Work calls."

"Quit," Soren repeated, and Henri just ignored him, turning his attention to his wardrobe to change into more appropriate black clothing.