Izzy gave a growled sigh when Cerasus finished, and ran a hand through her hair. He didn’t know anything about Guillotine Cutter’s fighting, which meant she was going in blinder than she had with the other two. He was a [i]human,[/i] and did more damage than those with some sort of vampiric ability.
	“Great.” She pulled her hand from her hair. “So, pretty much just keep doing what I’ve been doing, and learn in the process.”
	When Riley left and Cerasus headed to bed, Izzy slowly made her way to her claimed classroom. She rummaged through her backpack, which was now filled with the clean clothes Trevor had kindly brought, while the plastic bags had her dirtied outfits shoved in them. Finding her pair of spare sneakers, she pulled them out, placed them on the floor, and shoved a pair of socks inside one.
	She sat on a set of desks she had put together, their tops fairly cleaned from days spent using them as the world’s hardest mattress. She placed one foot on a knee and brushed off some of the layer of dirt that had coated her sole. She glanced to the closed door, then back to her foot. After a couple moments of trying to use matter generation, she sighed in defeat, and laid back on the desks.
	After a while, her mind racing with everything from the night, she fell into a fitful slumber.

[center]*	*	*[/center]

	Izzy had overslept. By the time her nightmares abated, allowing her to truly fall asleep, it had been late. Unsure what time it was, consciousness had just decided to return to her when Trevor's familiar footfalls greeted her.
	Her eyes sprung open, and she sat upright with a yawn. She could feel her hair sticking out at odd angles, and quickly jumped from the desks, pulled her hair tie out, and brushed her hair with the brush she had left on another desk near her pack.
	“Evening, Trevor,” she returned his greeting lightly and smiled at him as she replaced her hair tie. She blinked in the light of Trevor's flashlight as he sat it down. She looked him over, searching for any sign of his injury from the previous evening. But even his clothes were just as semi-formal as when she had last seen him. Part of her still could not believe he was here, alive, his presence sending a flood of relief through her. The image of his torn body flashed through her mind, making her shut her eyes and push the thought aside with a shake of her head.
	“How... How’re you feeling?” she asked as casually as she could, tossing the hairbrush onto her backpack.