[h3][color=mediumspringgreen]Andras[/color] and [color=7ea7d8]Michael[/color]'s Brief Chat[/h3]

Andras sat in an empty booth near the corner of the bar, trying to sort out what the night had become. There was a distinct berth around her booth, with the spectators giving her plenty of space. Andras didn’t know if it was because she threw around such immense force in her match, or just because it was clear she was upset.

She didn’t care. She really wanted to curl up and wait for her throbbing bruises to stop hurting. She was at least able to stop herself from crying, so she considered that a little victory. The entire night had gone sour in an instant. She only stuck around because she had won, and it’d be an even larger insult to Vera to win and then drop from the tournament.

Well, that, but also Andras was brimming with frustration, sadness, and a feeling of powerlessness. Maybe giving someone a super haymaker would cheer her up.

She sighed aloud. “I’m definitely not in the right place at all…” She rested her head on the table, enjoying its cool surface against her cheek. “What was I thinking…?”

The sight of a newcomer who had shaken up the tournament sulking like that could easily be seen from across the bar. It stood out like a sore thumb.

Michael wandered the bar, turning his head side to side as he searched for Andras. If he recalled, she did not leave her match with the highest of moods, nor with the best of health. He was worried about her, and couldn’t imagine what she was feeling. 

Fortunately, she wasn’t too difficult to find, finally spotting her at a corner of the bar. It seemed she was still not feeling well after her match. At the sight of her, Michael put a hand on his hip and sighed. Michael realized he would have to take it upon himself to make her feel better, or at the very least, try to.

Taking a seat next to Andras, Michael gave her a light tap with his fist on her shoulder. “What’s got you so down, Andras? You’re supposed to be a winner.” he asked. “I’m guessing something, uh, not great happened in the past between you and that girl back there, huh?”

Andras quickly snapped up in her seat. “Oh! It’s just you.” She calmed down considerably upon seeing her friend’s face. “No… Um, well… It’s more of something that didn’t happen…” Andras put her head in her hands. 

There was a brief moment of silence between the two before Andras realized she was breaking character. Quickly fidgeting, she began backtracking what she had said: “I-I mean! T-There’s no history between her and I, Andras, except the history of… Battle…? L-Like-”

Her stuttered lies were interrupted when her fidgeting caused her bruised knee to hit the table above it, causing her to wince in pain. “Y-Yeah. Like that. Ow…” She added ‘embarrassment’ to the wide range of feelings she was experiencing, just below ‘pain.’

Michael looked down at her knee and placed a hand on his chin, thinking about what Symbols to use to help her out. Getting down to one knee, Michael gently grabbed Andras’ leg and said, “Here, hold still.” He then proceeded to apply a Symbol to her leg, a vertical line with a coil around it, reminiscent of the Rod of Asclepius. 

Standing back up, Michael then raised his finger and drew a red cross symbol onto Andras’ forehead. Tapping the center of the cross, Andras would find her wounds healing up, especially around her knee. These Symbols would draw on her own energy in order to heal her body, as all they did was accelerate the natural healing process. She might feel a little drained, but a little rest before her next match would be enough time to make a solid recovery. 

“There, that should be better,” Michael said. Sitting back down, Michael would proceed to seriously address his friend, “Alex, please be honest with me. You’re my friend.” He then quickly muttered to himself, “[i]One of the few I actually have[/i],” before continuing on, “I hate to see you like this, and I wanna help you, but I’m not sure I can if I don’t know the details.” He took a deep breath and steeled his resolve, then proceeded to ask, “What really happened between you and that girl?” He knew he was risking his friendship a bit by asking Andras this, but he had to know. Too much had happened to simply brush it off at this point.

Andras groaned, clearly torn between her desire to shrug things off and her desire to respond with the truth. She thought back to some of the times that she had leaned on Michael, even literally, and now she was being propped up by him again. The thought made her want to curl up even more.

After an uneasy silence, Alex spoke up. "Um. She and I used to be friends." Alex sniffled, wiping her eye preemptively. "Really good friends. But we haven't seen each other since I was... Hospitalized. She didn't ever visit after I woke up, and I..." She paused, searching her own feelings. "I... guess I never looked for her, either, after I woke up. But it had been so long that I... Never..." She choked up. "I don't know why I didn't."

She grabbed the end of Michael's shirt and looked up at him with a teary eye. "Why wasn't she just happy to see me?! Why did she want to fight?! And why didn't I stop her when she tried to?!" She crumbled, hiding her face and hunching over the table. "What's so wrong with me that this happened...?" Her muffled voice wavered.

As Alex poured her feelings out onto him, Michael’s mind raced through a million possible answers he could give. However, none of them seemed right to him. He didn’t know what he could say to make her feel better. The only thing he thought of to do at the moment was to awkwardly pat her on the back. Michael may have said he wanted to help, but he certainly wasn’t a psychologist or anything. It was the best he could do. 

“Hey hey, it’s- it’s alright,” Michael tried to console her. He thought about giving her a hug, but he wasn’t sure he was willing to do that yet. Especially not with a crowd around them, watching the entire scene unfold. Instead, he continued to say, “I’m sure you did the best you could. Tensions seemed a little… high at the time.” 

Alex let out a long sigh once more. She was going to need a long break after all this. Maybe she’d skip classes for a day or two. Depending on how roughed up she got in the next fights, she might have to skip classes. Teachers would ask questions. “She’s always been… We’re going to talk it out. Things will work out...” She turned back to Michael. “Thanks for helping. I feel better… Actually, way better.” Alex stretched her legs, surprised at how quickly her bruises disappeared. “Looks like I owe you… again.” 

Alex wanted to stand up to hug him, but she didn’t want to cause any more of a scene than she already had done. She resolved to give him one the next time they met without a crowd watching their every move. Plus… Demons didn’t give out hugs. Or at least, not the kind that get into underground fights and crack the concrete foundation of a building with their bare hands.

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Michael said, giving her a smile and a thumbs up. “You just do your best in the semifinals… Lady Andras.” It seemed appropriate to him that a “demon” be given some proper respect, after all. He flagged a bartender over and ordered a water, and was soon chugging it down from its tall cup.