Anisa glared in silence at her other self... and then Sculptura made herself known once more... the OTHER part of her heart. The former villainess scoffed, "We know why we are here. We are here to finish the mission. To see it done and get rid of anyone in our way. If that includes you then-"

  The teenage girl grabbed the villain by one of her ponytails and pulled her to her level, saying without fear or hesitation, "A mission doesn't mean anything if you don't know why you are doing it, bimbo. Now go sit in the corner." Sculptura raised a hand to strike her, but Anisa stopped it. The teen smirked which gave a new wave of anger in the villainess and another attempt to strike which Anisa had to stop once again. And so it repeated, and with each repetition the teen's smirk grew and she began to laugh. Eventually, as Sculptura's focus shifted towards Anisa herself in a wordless repetitious cycle. The teen watched the evolving fight, Anisa maneuvering, repositioning, and grappling. All while Sculptura continued to chase and trying to land a decisive singular blow. An endless dance, and one the teen basked in as though she was watching it from atop the hill...

  As she thought this she could feel him next to her. "Hey, Ani. Been awhile. Sorry I wasn't around for awhile. I got busy. How have you been?"

  She thought for a moment as they watched the endless battle, "It's... been rough. I'm used to you being here. It's hard for me to find ways to keep smiling. And every day it feels like I have something new telling me I don't get to. That things are too dire to find a single bit of enjoyment and that I'm too far gone to enjoy it."

  He showed her a picture of an oak tree and said, "The Larch... The... Larch..." She looked over at him with an unamused leer, only to crack into a chuckle. He laughed a little himself, "See... It's that easy. A stupid running gag. An inside joke, even if its just to yourself, right?"

  She shook her head and scoffed as she continued to watch the fight, "Yeah, but then I'm not taking things seriously, right? I'm just... ignoring the problem."

  She heard another voice she knew well, "That's not the Nina I know. She never lost sight of her goals, never stopped learning. She was haunted but always ahead of the ghosts..."

  "That's the real trick to it, Ani. You remember. I did all I could to keep my smile, my sense of style and flair, and still saved the day. You don't need to be constantly sad or angry to save the day. You just need to know what to do and when you need to do it."

  Ani stood up, the fighting continuing in the background as she looked out again once more from the hill... and then she walked down from it. As she walked into the empty shell of what was once her school in a life long gone, she came to a familiar hallway and the memory played out like it was fresh once more. Shawn was standing there as two boys were pushing him against a locker, their sneers and distaste for him clear. She marched over to them, hearing Shawn say, "Punching me isn't going to change anything."

  "Yeah, but it will sure feel good." The larger of the two boys punched Shawn hard, Ani punching him shortly after the fact. His friend went to try and hit Anisa only for Shawn to spring from his place on the ground to force them apart. The look in his eyes of desperation while his nose was dripping with blood caught her off guard, and the visual of him leaping into their fight while his nose poured blood seemed to make the boys hesitate with confused disgust.

  He glared at Ani, "Apologize! Now!"

  She was as confused as them back then. She had come to save him from getting his ass beat but he was asking her to apologize for saving him? It was only when he motioned towards the other boy that he had meant to apologize to the other boy for punching him. She stammered out, "Sorry... for punching you?"

  The other boy was pale, as though he couldn't even begin to process why the boy he had just punched had gotten this girl to apologize to him. He eventually and reflexively responded, "Y-Yeah... sorry... for um... punching... him..." In a barely contained panic, as though he worried he would get ratted out any minute, he motioned to his friend and the two ran down the hall.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  As she watched with mild concern, she was surprise when Shawn pulled out his shirt for gym and used it as a rag to pinch his nose shut. She asked, "Shouldn't we go to the nurse?"

  He laughed weakly, "Nah. I've had a few of these and they look worse than they are. There isn't a break so I'll be okay. He is so afraid of consequences that he holds back without knowing it. If I was in actual danger, I would have bailed." She watched his eyes grow distant for a minute before he pulled the shirt away, testing his nose on a few spots before holding it again. His voice then shifted, "We all got detention for that fight back then. You told me that I should fight for myself. Not just weather the storm in hopes someone changes. I told you that while I appreciated what you did that you didn't need to do anything right away. That you would be surprised how often I had found solutions without anyone getting hurt."

  Ani nodded slowly and said, "I remember how we tried to top each other's traumas too. That was before your mom had died. Both our dads were never around and both our moms were too busy keeping our lives stable to be considered attentive."

  He chuckled, "Yeah. Then I found out you were a musician and kept picking your brain about my stories and you kept showing me your music and I kept giving feedback. Different mediums with different skills but the passion of two creatives bouncing off each other."

  She scoffed, "Yeah... and everyone kept accusing us of dating. I would lose my temper and you would remind me that they were idiots who we couldn't tell what to think. What mattered is what we knew." She sighed, holding her head, "Everything was really goddamn simple back then. Just two friends jamming in their rooms, working on their shit and feeling good about that even if everything else was crap... and now its so damned complicated." She could feel the tears welling in her heart.

  And then Anisa heard Ani ask her again, "What are you fighting for? Is it here or somewhere else?" It was as she looked up at the endless warring of her other selves, tears streaming down her face that she saw a familiar mask at her feet. Was that the face of a coward? Someone who would run from a fight because it was too hard? No, she had never been that... so why? Why was all of this so hard? So painful? As the pain ripped the old school away and left her with nothing but the endless back and forth, she saw an all too familiar door in the darkness, light of a winter morning streaming through the glass set in its frame. As she stepped through to the familiar music room, she approached the organ her mother had taught her to play, usually for whatever socialite she had intended to impress that day.

  It starts with the A-Part...

  As she began to play, she could hear it. Not just the clash but the rhythm. The cycle of the conflict as the fine notes were born of it. The simplicity of its core. And as she allowed the other instruments to come into the piece and adding layers to it, she could still hear that simple core. As she moved to the next, she could feel her tears begin to flow, her hands trying to cease up on her, but she continued to play on, the blood washing away in the sea of tears... and then anger. A growing and deep outrage that ran away like a tempest gone mad. As her music began its frenetic pace... she felt it softening. No less rampant, but brighter. and as the madness became whimsy, she could still feel the fires below its surface... liberating... and yet she could feel the pace wind down. The piece itself began to breathe, to live... and to finally find its pace. Neither frantic nor cold, not shadowed nor blinding... and as she finally comprehended its form... she stood up from her instrument and began to walk. The piece was complete... and she knew where her battle was waiting for her.