Disclaimer: Loveless isn't mine. I'm making no profit from this story.

Tough Morning

Watanabe Megumi loves stuffed animals. Her room is full of them, sitting on shelves and the dresser and her bed.

When she first came to Shichisei Gakuen she carried one around, a big stuffed bear that was constantly dangling from one hand or clutched to her chest. She grew out of that, eventually, but seven years later she still sleeps with that same bear.

Even when she's in the infirmary, as she so often is. As she is tonight.

It's obviously the same bear -- worn and well-loved and not quite as fuzzy as it once was -- tucked into the crook of her right arm now as she sleeps. She clung to it as she got stitches in the deepest of the fresh cuts on her wrist, and she fell asleep with her face pressed against its head; her arm has fallen to her side now, and the bear is only a restless squirm away from tumbling to the floor.

She calls it -- she calls him (she claims the bear is male, though she never explains how she can tell) Less, even though the name embroidered on the bright blue ribbon around his neck is longer. She never calls him Limitless anymore, just as she objects to being called by that name herself.

It's telling, perhaps, that she keeps him so close even when she curses the name she gave him. It's more telling that even now, when she doesn't carry him everywhere she goes, she sometimes brings him along when she fights.

A makeshift Sacrifice made of plush and stuffing.

She shifts a little in her sleep, and her arm extends just enough to let Less tumble out of her grasp; he falls to the floor, and she rolls onto her side and doesn't notice. He lies there, unmissed, for hours.

It isn't until morning, when the infirmary becomes too bright and loud for Megumi to stay asleep, that she notices his absence. It takes a moment; for a second or two she's calm, propping herself up on one elbow and rubbing sleepily at her eyes.

Then she realizes that he's not there, and she starts to worry. When she can't find him by feeling around on the bed, she starts to panic.

She's tired and stressed and not thinking rationally, so she's almost in tears by the time someone scoops him up and drops him in her lap. She doesn't immediately realize how he got there -- she's too busy hugging him close in relief. When it finally registers in her sleep-fogged mind that stuffed animals can't fly she looks up, cheeks going red when she realizes who Less' savior is.

"Thank you, sensei," she says, staring down at Less instead of looking at the man standing at the foot of the bed.

"Why are you here, Megumi?" Ritsu asks. His tone is flat, emotionless, and even when she looks up Megumi can't read his expression. She doesn't know what answer he wants. The reason is obvious, she thinks. Frowning, she holds up her wrist, shows him the bandages.

"Because I --"

Ritsu shakes his head and she stops, letting her arm fall to her lap.

"Did you lose a fight?" he asks. "Did you win a fight? Did one of your classmates remind you that you have no Sacrifice? I know what you did. Tell me why." Even though his words are hurtful there's still no emotion in his voice, and somehow that makes it worse than it would be if he was clearly angry.

Megumi is silent for a minute as she tries to find the right words, but with Ritsu staring at her she can't seem to think. "I don't know," she finally says, and her voice is emotionless too, because she's not going to let it shake in front of him.

"You don't know," he says, disbelieving, and she nods even though it's not true. She knows, but not in words; she knows in feelings that don't translate and that would sound stupid if spoken aloud.

Ritsu shakes his head but does not question her further. She's thankful for that. Ritsu has a way of being nasty that bothers her much more than she'd like to admit.

"Go back to sleep," he tells her as he turns away. "You're excused from your classes for the day. And leave your wrist alone."

"Yes, sensei," she says, but he's already gone.

Ritsu's orders are absolute, even if she doesn't like them, so she lies back down and pulls the blanket over her face so it's not too bright to sleep. She curls up on her side and hugs Less close, wishing she could just forget about all of this.

But Ritsu's words won't leave her head, and her wrist hurts underneath the too-tight bandages, and not even Less can make her feel any less stupid. She knows that what she does is stupid. She knows that it's unhealthy.

And she knows, more than anything else, that whatever god wrote Limitless on her arm was playing a nasty joke, and if he won't erase it she'll just have to do it herself.