• The hot water and the prospect of being clean eased Celica's mind and loosened her body a little. As she stood under the spray of the shower, she vaguely wondered where POCC headquarters was. Finding the weapon was going to be hard enough, but actually bringing it to the POCC base was going to be totally different.

    Pondering this, she cleaned herself thoroughly, not knowing when she would get this chance again. She turned the handle left until it was facing straight up and the water was off. There was a towel hanging from the rack outside of the shower curtain, and she pulled it in and dried off.

    To her dismay, the clothes Anders had thrown in after her were multiple sizes too large, draping off of her body, giving her the impression of a child wearing their parents clothes. It was all she had, though, unless she wanted to put on her old clothes. The thought disgusted her as she stared at the once-red, now-brown shirt lying at her feet.

    She dried off her hair one more time and entered the hallway. Anders was lying a few feet away, leaning against the wall, arms folded, legs extended, and head down. He appeared to be sleeping.

    A thought occurred to her. "Anders, is there a place that I can wash my clothes?" She held up her dirty garments, the raising of her arm causing her sleeve to droop sadly.

    He didn't answer. He was obviously breathing, his chest heaved every few seconds and his exhales were audible. He must have fallen asleep while Celica was showering. She walked over to him, whose face was covered in his own messy, bronze-colored hair. She kneeled next to him, and tried to see his face. What she could see of it looked peaceful, and quite asleep.

    Just as she stood up again, Anders' arm jerked and his hand wrapped tightly around her ankle, and his head snapped up to face her. A maniacal smile was plastered onto his long, sharp face. Celica's heart skipped a beat, and she felt adrenaline shooting through her fingertips. She tried to run, but his grip on her ankle caused her to fall, landing on her back.

    She shut her eyes, not knowing what would happen next, and then she heard laughter. Not evil laughter, but childish, amused laughter. She opened her eyes a fraction and saw Anders crouching, standing on the balls of his feet, his elbows on his knees, face shining with laughter.

    "You jerk!" Celica shrieked, and threw her clothes at his face. He caught them with ease, but the force knocked him back onto his butt, where he continued laughing. "You scared the hell out of me!" She said, but a smile was creeping its way onto her face. "No! It's not funny!" She scolded herself more than Anders, but soon she was laughing too, the shock wearing off.

    Anders laid down onto his back and gave a few final sighs of laughter before realizing what he was holding. "Oh, gross. Do you want me to wash these?" He said with a wrinkled nose, holding up Celica's filthy clothes.

    "Yes please." Celica said in exaggerated relief.

    "How did you even get them so dirty?" He asked, his smile returning, examining the shirt closer. Before Celica could answer, he was already around the corner to the staircase, his bright blue shoes the last visible part of him as he pelted.