Code: FE,A,F-FTBH-MC

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the featured media, the rights go to their respected owners.

Media: Fire Emblem Awakening/ Fates

Title: Faith Through Blood And Hardship

Notable Sub-genres: [PastChrom/ My Unit | (M)Robin] [My Unit | (M)Corrin/ My Unit | (M)Robin] AU-After Chapter 11 of Awakening. Revelations Route. Use of Both Japanese and Translated Names. Slow Burn-ish. Character death.

Rating: "T" for Minor Language and Some Mature Themes like: Racism *cough*Takumi*cough*, Major Injury, Heterosexuality, Homosexuality, Mentions of Homophobia, Intimacy.

Chapter: Multichapter

Status: In-Progress

Robin had awoken for the first time to blue eyes and a world on the precipice of disaster. He'd found his mind to be hollowed out and foggy, knowledge unweighted and sometimes hard to reach. He'd been disoriented when this good samaritan offered a hand and everything shifted. "Chrom" had come forth, appearing on his tongue like it had always been there when his own name stayed absence.

'Robin, you say? Is that foreign?' Chrom had asked when his name slotted between his teeth but Robin could not answer. It was almost easy to believe he had not lived the twenty-plus years that time had carved out into his body, with a face not even the villagers they had saved recognised though he must have passed through - he had to have, to reach where they'd found him sprawled.

Robin's origin seemed unreachable, with the few belongings on his person - his weapons, a small bag of coin, a compass and a journal full with nothing but notations, saying little about who he was or where he had come from. He was obviously of Plegian descent he'd learn through his physical attribute and his attire but it didn't ring any clearer bell than Ylisse, though he did recall the language once he'd heard the bandits attacking the Longfort speak in it.

'It wasn't much of a surprise,' Lissa would state when Robin enquired at the lack of reaction when he'd started to translate the orders from their opponents' side, allowing for easy counters. 'You kinda speak with an accent, so it was easy to guess that Plegian would be your first language.' She'd shrugged then, like it was nothing of import and went back to her meal.

There was just so much Robin was ignorant of; his mind was a wasteland filled with but one nightmarish recollection which felt so tangible, it could have been real. He could almost sense himself channeling lightning, while thick smouldering mana encircled them as he pushes the concentrated bolt through bone and blood. It haunts him him in his dreams; Chrom's face going lax, along with the ghosts of people Robin would soon come across in these campaigns he'd champion. People he'd be unable to save or been forced to kill.

Sleep soon became a graveyard of failures and mistakes and sometimes, darkly, Robin would wonder if it was better than the alternative. That being if Robin stayed the blank slate he'd been when he'd woken up at his new beginning, without memory or place to go. If he'd just stayed asleep.

For all Robin's apparent talent in warfare, having amnesia made him vulnerable. It'd been a huge undertaking Chrom and his Shepherds had accepted by taking him in, by guiding and supporting him until he was less impressionable. Because having no memory meant he'd had no experience to call on and it'd been easy to see despite being peers with most of his companions, that they were not on equal footing.

For all Robin could accomplish, for however much skill he had as a tactician; able to read the health and strength of any man put in front of him, plan and meet objects, map out terrain, he'd been lacking as a person.

The first time he'd offered his help to Ricken in penning a letter to his parents, the boy had looked surprised though he'd gratefully accepted however unsuccessfully that first attempt had been. 'You'd just been…unapproachable when you first joined,' the mage had stated later on. 'You were really quiet and you'd kinda - stare at people, like you were looking through them. Ah! You're better now! You laugh and smile and…people can tell you care about them; that you're not imagining chest pieces when you see them.'

Robin hadn't meant any offence but he'd just been so empty at the beginning and it was only due to the people around him that he ever got full, though he can imagine how trying it must have been for them. He found he was sarcastic and often lacked tack when he spoke and etiquette had been tricky to be reintroduced to.

Cooking for example, was a life skill, and yet a concept he couldn't quite grasp. With Frederick's help he soon had the basics but everything he touched was dull and baseless. Edible, at least but with no personality. None of the Shepherds would complain when it was his turn to prepare the food - he wasn't Sully, who'd made it an out to poison people on accident, but...he also knew there wasn't much chance he'd get better. He struggled to discern his own characteristics, never mind add them to food.

His ineptitude was treated more like a quirk than a flaw and the Shepherds were quick to forgive any accidental slight on his part. Whether that be in words or in action. Why they'd bothered was beyond him, they'd have probably been better off without the added struggle of someone who'd forgotten how to live. However, it was his job as Chrom's tactician to learn everything he could about himself and his men, men he needed to know how to command.

The more Robin came to understand, the more he felt and experienced, the less of a shell - less of an imitation he became. He grew closer to these people, he grew closer to Chrom. Chrom who'd trusted him despite his heritage, who'd follow his lead. Chrom who'd captured Robin's attention since that first introduction, since he'd first taken Chrom's hand. Chrom who gave Robin a home without cause, who looked after Robin in his own abrupt but caring way.

It could have just been the frequency in which they saw each other, with long nights pouring over maps while readjusting strategy. Afternoons spent sparing until their muscles were sore, Robin's mana spent and his sword arm weak. Days enduring battle after battle, guarding each other's backs - maybe it was that, but what had started off as innocent, as a blossoming friendship, soon…wasn't.

A tension had seeped between them that Robin couldn't full understand though their interaction had been comfortable despite the weight of it there. He wasn't sure what to do about it, if he was meant to do anything about it but it didn't go away. Things changed in subtle ways, with tactile touches becoming lingering moments, and a throwaway look became long shared glances.

It hadn't been unpleasant, could even say with some hesitance that Robin enjoyed it; enjoyed that they were coming closer and enjoyed the attention however nervous it made him, it also seemed special. He enjoyed it, but wasn't sure he should and then he wasn't sure he shouldn't.

This tension broke one evening. Their company had just finished clearing the surrounding area of Risen on their march back to Ferox. Chrom and he had decided to take a breather once they were settled into camp and safe; everyone deserved a breather, had more than earnt it. Only a day but it was more than any of them had had in some time and it was a reliever of the pressing responsibility hanging over their heads.

Even with such a brief respite, Robin hadn't known what to do with himself, so after making sure they had setup patrol around their makeshift campsite Robin had left his men to their own devices. He didn't want to step on any ones so he'd returned to his own tent which was positioned near the convoy, and had decided to go to his reading pile and plucked one off the admittedly tall stack of books.

He has was near half way through when Chrom had pushed his way through the tent flap of their shared living, of which the prince had insisted after Robin had been foolish enough to faint from overworking.

'Rob -' Chrom had begun but he'd paused on looking up and seeing Robin sat on his cot, legs up off the floor and spine curled around his book. 'Why am I not surprised?'

Robin had started, eyes jarring up from the text in front of him to be greeted by Chrom's amused smile. He blinked before his mind cottoned on. 'Like you weren't out destroying practice dummies,' he retorted, knowing that Chrom was just as predicable.

'Vaike,' Chrom corrects with a wolfish grin and Robin struggles not to return it. Vaike was hopeless to a challenge but Chrom had definitely been forced to grow stronger and had been pummelling Vaike for awhile.

'Like I said,' Robin huffed back laughter, 'practice dummies.' His daft fingers quickly dogeared the page he was on even if he paused in closing it.

Chrom engaged no restraint and chuckled freely while causally entering the tent while attempting to remove the armour which protected him. He was fiddling with the gauntlets that wrapped around his wrists and forearms as he stops in the centre of the floor. Robin doesn't react but for a raised eyebrow. All that armour was a but much but - ah, Frederick must have been up and about.

Finally closing his book and putting it off to the side, Robin shifts in preparation to get up, languidly stretching out the kinks and knots that had formed in his muscles and joints. He's stiff from sitting hunched over for so long and pulls his arms over his head, back arching as he tries to relieve the rigidity in him. Idly he acknowledges that his shirt lifts with his shoulders, exposing his stomach to the evening chill wit his robe or belts. He deems it unimportant.

His neck was still aching when he breathes out but he gets up to amble over to Chrom's side, who'd frozen and watched Robin approach. Robin notices and tries to smile despite his confusion. 'Need a hand, Milord?' he attempts to tease as he knows Chrom's armour in particular requires aid in doing up and removal. Robin himself had become familiar with helping Chrom and doesn't wait for much of a response before he's reaching forward.

Unintentionally their fingers brush as Robin replaces Chrom's on the top ties. Robin's heart thumps loudly in his ears and he suddenly becomes very aware of Chrom's presence and has no idea why it suddenly takes so much of his focus.

'Robin,' Chrom breathes and Robin can't quite pick out the tone but it brings heat to his face. The reaction would have baffled him more if not for the strange magnetism that was drawing the two of them together. Not sure what to do with the sudden shift in atmosphere, he keeps his gaze set on the gauntlets as he nimbly unties it.

We've done this a hundred times before, Robin thought as they coordinate so that Robin can remove the other. He can sense something building, Chrom's heavy gaze, the heat as Robin deposits the pieces of steel onto the desk nearby. He's trying to refocus onto Chrom's chest plate, worried that should he pause too long something would change.

Chainmail is next and without thinking, Robin finds himself smoothing down Chrom's tunic from where it had risen. Underneath his palm Chrom's heart is beating wildly, like the prince is back outside, training.

Chrom swallows. 'You - you've been reading all this time?' Chrom asks as the silence continues but his voice his rough. Robin needs to - move, doesn't he?

'Yes,' Robin replies as he tries to figure out the anticipation that his unsettling his stomach. 'And you, with training?'

'Vaike was…insistent,' Chrom agrees, leaning closer. Robin can smell him, and it hits the back of this throat like a punch to the gut. 'I wasn't planning on being out for so long.'

'Well, at least you were being productive,' Robin comments in distraction.

Chrom hums and Robin can almost feel it. 'You must have been lonely.'

'I -' Robin finds his voice deserting him when Chrom touches him, using his forefinger and thumb on Robin's chin to tilt his head. He blinks up at the eyes he'd been too nervous to meet and can't help but stare at enlarged pupils, how the candle light makes them seem feverish.

Robin can't bring himself to pull away though he has no more reason to be this close other than Chrom's shinguards. Why does he want to get closer? 'I - I have to apologise for my straightforwardness, Robin,' Chrom murmurs. Robin couldn't look away if he tried. 'But…you feel it as well, don't you? Because I… when I stop to admire you, I see you looking at me, too.'

Robin's throat feels tight. 'Chrom -'

'Have you felt this pull - this attraction as much as I have?' Chrom asks desperately as his thumb starts to trace the path of Robin's lips. It's startling and sends a shock through Robin's body. He gets tingles that he can't relate to many things but it's vaguely familiar.

Attraction? Robin finds himself repeating. He knew the word but he only knew it through vague impressions he has made with the Shepherds; Stahl and Sully as the circle each other, Lissa and her pink cheeks whenever Lon'qu was in the vicinity. Robin knew it from that first time, listening to the ripping Ricken had received in his regards to Maribelle after he'd risked so much to rescue her.

(Robin hadn't understood straight away. He'd just seen one comrade looking out for another. Because that's what you did, wasn't it? Lisa had realised Robin's a lot quick and had giggled into his ear. 'They're trying to tease Ricken by implying that he likes Maribelle.'

Robin hadn't even blinked. 'Should he not like her? They're both of Ylisse and -'

Lissa shook her had with a severe pout pulling at her mouth. 'No! Jeez, not in that way. They're saying he's - he's attracted to her!')

'Chrom,' Robin swallowed as he tried to work it out, Attraction - attraction could make sense but, how was he to know? How was he to be sure? 'Is - Is that…would that be alright?' Wasn't there rules? Procedure? He'd gotten good at noticing when two of his men started to fall for each other, but he never went out of his way to watch the courting.

Chrom smiled crookedly. 'There is nothing wrong with it if there is desire on both sides,' he responded and Robin could here something like excitement in his voice. 'I am not wrong, am I?'

'I -' Robin felt himself hesitating. 'I…are there not conventions, to -'

Chrom shushes him. 'Just tell me you feel the same. That's all I need. Turn off that big brain of yours and…allow me? Please?'

Robin's uncertainty didn't lessen but when one of Chrom's hands slid to the small of his back, sneaking up under his shirt, Robin finds himself gasping, a bundle of nerves coming alive to the the brush of Chrom's fingers. His body trembles in response and he was not ignorant enough to not know the heat that curled in his loins, though he hadn't ever been very proactive with arousal.

Robin finds himself wanting then, and brings his other hand onto Chrom's chest to lean in. 'This will be okay?'

Chrom brings their lips together and the feeling sizzled, warm and wet. The noise in his mind quietened by the time they parted. Chrom smiles his assertion, lips redder than before and Robin found himself trusting. If… if this is where Chrom is leading us, than, it had to be okay, Robin thought in surrender.

It was a clumsy coupling with Robin unsure what to do; of where to touch and how to move. Chrom laughed his concerns away after the fact, saying that it'd been "adorable". Robin recalled very little of it beyond moments of enhanced breathing, the noise of every thrust, Chrom's grunts the first time Chrom pushed in…

It'd been quite the blur when Robin had woken up after the fact tired and sore, in an empty bed, alone in a tent too big for just one. It'd been embarrassing getting up and getting on with things but Chrom had behaved like nothing had happened at breakfast which had been relieving even if his stomach had twisted itself into knots.

At night though, Chrom was affectionate and tactile. Robin tried his best with going through the motions of what he thought was a relationship while trying not to do his duty as tactician. It was a balancing act, one he foolishly put himself under incorrect impressions.

'What are your plans after the war?' Chrom had enquired the night before their final campaign.

'You mean if I survive this next battle?'

Chrom had sighed, arm tightening around Robin's waist. 'Please do not speak like that,' he asked of Robin who wasn't sure how to respond. 'I… wish of you to return to Ylisse with us. I know it may be a selfish request - that you may want to go and find your past…'

'Then I hope your library is prepared,' Robin had joked with a shaky smile, heart in his throat as he agreed to follow Chrom home.

Their nightly encounters slowed by the time they had returned to Ylisstol and settled into the castle and their new roles. Like he was promised, Robin was introduced to the library and put to work as Chrom's advisor, a go-between for the council and the newly appointed king. There was a lot to do and soon enough Robin found himself buried in paperwork, sorting through documentation and bills.

It was on one such evening that Sumia came for a visit. Robin had become quite close to the pegasus knight with their shared interest with books and he'd been glad to see her until she'd said so unassumingly, so happy that she was glowing. 'Oh Robin, I have wonderful news!'

He'd stood from his chair, his desk between them. 'I should say so,' Robin had responded. 'Sit, sit down.'

Sumia set in the guest chair usually filled with Chrom or one of the Shepherds in his new office. 'I'm getting married!' she exclaims which had been exciting even if Robin was confused since the last he knew, Sumia was single and hadn't entered into a courtship.

'That's brilliant!' Robin had smiled before asking to see the ring, thinking that this new development had happened while he'd been tied down. He hadn't wanted to make things awkward by asking after who'd proposed but when Sumia offers her hand for him to take, for him to see the ring, Robin knows instantly and his heart gives one large squeeze.

The ring bore Naga's brand.

'It's wonderful -' Robin had begun on automatic as he felt his face heat.

'His mother had it made for him before he was born,' Sumia offered in her exuberance. 'Isn't it lovely?'

Robin nodded as he kept his eyes on the ring, even as he released it. He couldn't bring himself to meet Sumia's gaze and desperately looked back to his work, to the taxes he'd been calculating through for the next council meeting. 'Yes,' he swallows as he holds onto his composure by his fingertips. 'You - must tell me about it once I'm less busy.'

'Oh!' Robin can hear Sumia's surprise at the obvious dismissal but luckily, it'd become nothing unusual for Robin to be short on time. 'Oh, of course! I'm sorry for disturbing you!'

The double entendre would have been amusing if it wasn't so tragic. There was a bitter taste in Robin's mouth as he nods Sumia away. The door shut, and he took a breath, another before a strangled sound leaves him. Paper crumbled under his hands as he slumps forward.

Idiot, Robin thought. You're an idiot.

It hadn't meant anything to Chrom. Robin had simply been - warming his bed. That's what all that - that nonsense had been. Nothing, nothing but relieving stress as the men in the taverns would grin about. Taverns, he'd learnt so much from them; things that he simply couldn't ask one of the other Shepherds. (They didn't like to leave him there, Maribelle was especially disapproving before he had explained. That he was a very susceptible to alcohol and their worry doubled.)

Robin felt embarrassed and hurt and ashamed that he felt embarrassed and hurt. Ashamed because this was obviously his misunderstand, his fault, his ignorance. He chokes, his throat so tight it was like the situation itself was strangling him. What were you thinking? What have you done, Robin? he asked himself.

His eyes burn and he bites his lip. Robin straightens himself and picks up his pen, and forces himself to hold himself together. Robin would not cry over this. He would not.

He hadn't. Robin had continued staring blankly at his report until Lissa came to get him. He got up automatically and allowed himself to be pulled along to dinner. He barely noticed the people already there, all Robin could concentrate on was not falling apart. Lissa pushed him into a chair beside Chrom who pulled it out from the under the table.

Robin tried not to fall into it, waited for people to bring to eat before he started to force food into his mouth. Half way through the meal, Chrom, Sumia at his side, asked for the attention of the room to announce their engagement. Robin could barely hear the reaction but he almost jumped out of his skin when Chrom clapped him on the shoulder.

'Right, Robin?'

Robin thinks he smiled. 'Sorry, what was it?'

Chrom swallowed. 'I -Sully asked who my best man would be.'

Robin blinked. 'Right.'

'…would you be, is what I asked.'

'Oh.' Robin blinked. It feels like there are pebbles in his eyes, a clamp around his heart and an arrow in his back as he agrees. He couldn't do anything but. He and Chrom were - friends? Friends. And Chrom valued him. Wanted him there, at his side.

(Just not in the way Robin wanted, not in the way - but it was not for him to want. It was wrong.)

'Good,' Chrom breathed. 'That's - that's great. I can't wait to hear your speech.'

Robin wrote one and hates every word. But he wrote it and he spoke it, standing by Chrom's side as he swears himself to another. Robin does his job, he does it and knows afterwards, or before, that he couldn't stay; he couldn't stay and watch this. It - it wasn't fair to Chrom and it was especially not fair to Sumia.

With that in mind, he manages to complete everything that Chrom needed for the next few months; left organised on his desk with a note he couldn't bring himself to apologise in. Robin didn't fully explain the abruptness of his leaving, didn't know a way to lie about it, to write about it without humiliating himself, without hurting anyone.

He packed a singled bag, with only the few things he had managed to buy himself once he'd started to earn a wage for his service. It was light - making up for his heavy shoulders, but then that just made it all the more convenient. Robin left his journal packed full of notes and anecdotes of the Shepherds and his books on his desk and filling his shelves. They weren't truly his and Robin had no real place to take them with him.

Robin watched as the sun settled behind the horizon and travelled through the castle with moon and torchlight as his guide as he shouldered his travel bag and left. He walked a route he didn't usually go by, but the staff and castle residents had come to greeting him and he hadn't wanted to get stopped. Funny, how that went.

'Robin,' the voice called from behind and Robin couldn't help but tense even as he slowed to a stop. He didn't turn around. 'Robin,' the voice insists.

Sighing, Robin looks over his shoulder to face Frederick's deep frown and stiff posture that had come to characterise the knight. They are located in the staff's passageways, shortcuts made for maids to carry laundry baskets or dinner without worrying about other traffic. It was typically empty at this time of night though, save for the guarded door Robin was near which would lead him out into the courtyard.

The silence drags as Robin finds he has nothing left to say, not now - not anymore. He's too embarrassed, left feeling vulnerable and filled with regret. The light is dim, with minimal torchlight as the passageway was too thin, with fire swallowing too much of the air; the windows which couldn't even fit an arrow through, did little but Robin was still glad of his hood; for the security it brought. The secret he harboured, kept buried in his chest of what he'd done with Chrom, made him feel powerless to those who looked at him.

'You're leaving,' Frederick says as a statement, with knowledge that is too sharp.

Nodding never works well with his hood up so Robin reluctantly opens his mouth. 'Yes.'

'You won't be returning.' Again, it's too knowing. Robin feels sick at the direct way Frederick stares.

'No.' Robin had no plans to. He had come to love Ylisse and her people but coming back would just be reopening a wound which he knew was self-inflicted. Sumia especially deserved not to have him ruining her marriage, or her pregnancy that had been announced just days ago.

'Robin -'

'I've finished my duties,' Robin cut in, heart in his throat. 'And…left suggestions for a new advisor. My letter of resignation is on my desk with my goodbyes and I've made sure to take only what is mine -'

'Robin,' Frederick's calm voice comes to interrupt, unusual for such a proper man. 'Where you even go? There's still tension between our boarders with Plegia, and Risen still roam the lands…'

Robin shifts his weight, can't help but feel unease. 'Anna has told me the route to the Outrealm Gate,' he admits as he knew before he decided he could not stay that there's nowhere for him to go that would not cause trouble for his people, so somewhere that was off their map, somewhere he would not cause someone trouble. That Anna volunteered this information to him while he'd still been struggling to work out what he was to do, had implications that Robin preferred no to think about.

Frederick's eyes widen by a hair. 'You're serious about this.'

That doesn't deserve much of a response. 'Yes.'

Frederick released a deep sigh. 'There's nothing I can say to persuade you to stay?'

A weak smile tilted Robin's lips. 'Never thought I'd hear something like that from you.'

Frederick coughs and continues sounding inordinately awkward. 'I wish to apologise for -'

Robin holds up a hand to stop those words. 'You owe me no apologises. You were doing your duty as a knight and Chrom's protector. I feel no animosity to you for your caution,' he states and though it hadn't been a nice welcome, he'd understood Frederick.

'Your's will be a large loss for Ylisse,' Frederick says regretfully. It loosened something in Robin to hear that, to hear someone - appreciate him. To hear that he'd made a positive difference.

However, 'she will recover,' Robin says with certainty. He closes his eyes as he refuses to be allowed to be talked into staying. He'd made up his mind and he would not allow himself to be swayed. It'd be better off for everyone.

'I…I had a feeling that we wouldn't be able to keep you,' Frederick mutters before he is striding forward and in the dark, with this tension, Robin cannot help but take a step back. It does not dissuade Frederick, however, who closes the distance and once they were but a foot apart, offers Robin his hand. 'It was an honour to serve with you, Robin,' the knight says.

Robin feels his eyes sting and makes sure to keep his head lowered even as he turns to clasp his hand into Frederick's. He is wearing his gloves but it is as much contact as he has allowed himself to have in recent days, and Frederick - Frederick was without his armour, fitted in causal clothes instead of metal; a great sign of trust for a man who wore steel like a second skin.

'I'm glad that…you were one of the people to find me,' Robin returns despite the pain it'd caused him. 'Thank you for your teachings.'

As they release one another, Frederick reaches behind his back to pull out a small pouch which Robin takes after some hesitance and prompting. 'Coin,' Frederick explains and Robin goes instantly to refuse it. 'Take it, if only to pay the toll. The Outrealm Gate always demands one.'

Robin's throat is tight and allows the pouch to be pressed into his palm. He feels the weight and wonders why Frederick thought to bring this here but maybe it was for the same reason that Frederick had followed him, or knew to find him to start with.

'Thank you, my friend,' Robin says instead.

Frederick shakes his head, and briefly squeezes Robin's shoulder. 'Think nothing of it.' Frederick's smile is small, kind of gruff but it slotted on his face with little difficulty. It reminds Robin that Frederick is younger than he appears. 'My Lord and Ylisse and owe you a great debt.'

The hollow feeling returns and Robin nods, distracts himself with tying the pouch to his belt. Silently he pays his goodbyes and turns; the exit is in sight and he knows that with his authority, he'll be able to use it without alarm, though not without confusion.

'Robin,' Frederick calls out again. '…stay safe.'

Grim amusement fills Robin. 'I don't have much luck with that,' he responds somewhat glibly as he knocks on the gate to gain the guards' attention so that they could open it from their side. He listens to the sound of the bolt cranking.

'Then -!' Frederick exclaims in a moment which was atypical for him, even as Robin straightens as the gate is opened and a torch is shined into his face for safety. 'Then be happy.'

'Lord Robin,' the guard mutters, with nary a shutter though he is taken a back, face surprised beneath his helmet even as he steps away to let Robin through. To let Robin leave.

Swallowing down a strange bitterness, Robin doesn't bother to tell Frederick the unlikeliness of that and he walks out. His pace is hurried, though he is desperate not to run and he whispers a soft, "goodbye" behind him.

Con/textual Vomit: I can not express how obsessed I am with these games. So much love. Enjoy! I hope you guys like this one because its gunna be a long one haha ^^". Oh! And there was no intentional bashing on Chrom or Sumia, I have nothing against either character. OR a Chrobin pairing. I've written for them before haha.

(First Uploaded: 07/ 03/ 17)(Updated: 10/04/18)

OZ