The Miscreant slipped off his bed without much else but a snicker, of which Lyric couldn't seem to find the meaning. He was sure to pick up all the gear he'd been given, except the greaves, opting to leave them at the door. After all, it wasn't like he'd need armor for bedtime.

The beginning of a word from his partner prompted a look back from the open door, the Seraph picking herself up before he was able to comment.

"Hey, before you're in there... How long do you think you'll be up tonight?"

The boy thought on that.

"'Till I crash, I guess. What's up?"

"Nothing in particular. I get most of my ideas at night, so sometimes they just kinda blurt out when I've got somebody to talk to."

"Gotta deal with it somehow. I'll probably have my own keep-me-up bugs, so shoot if you've got ammo to burn."

"Sure thing. If I'm asleep when you get out, wake me up. Can't be a hypocrite."

"Right, right, will do." Kyoya caught himself laughing, but a glance to his partner revealed that she found just as much fun in the remark.

Something about her, something he couldn't even hope to pinpoint with any amount of certainty, brought about a level of calm comparable to that of an easy day at the Shrine. Had it not been for what he could only call a seriously sketchy prophecy, he'd consider himself farther than lucky to possibly harbor a connection to someone like this. Yet, if that wasn't enough, there were even supposed to be seven more people, just the same as them?

It wouldn't have taken a genius to figure that he thought a bit too much on the little things.

Of course, it also wouldn't have taken a genius to figure that a certain Seraph didn't waste any time catching him zone out.

"How much longer are you gonna stand in the doorway like that? Staring's rude."

"Tch, like you're one to talk about being rude. I'll be out in a bit. Are you sure you want me to wake you up if you fall out?"

"Yep."

"Suit yourself."

With that, Kyoya finally got to actually look inside the washroom.

It was a definite step up from waxed wood, a granite tile similar to the pinnacle's covering the floor leading to a large, open bath. Without much else to do beyond what needed to be done, the Miscreant hung up his spare clothes, stripped down, and set to work.

Needless to say, he'd already done plenty thinking for one night. Any more and he'd have been in the bath for hours.

Putting on his new clothes was less intimidating than he'd thought it up to be. The top was astoundingly light and even more so maneuverable for the leathery material, and the fur at his shoulder was almost soft enough to fall right asleep on.

His pants' fabric was just tight enough to avoid looking baggy, while offering enough of a loose fit to be swift and comfortable. Emerging from the washroom door with soggy hair and remnants of the bath's warmth to keep him company, he didn't think anything in the world could disrupt this sensation of pure, fashionable bliss.

Anything except a peacefully sleeping Seraph.

Lyric laid soundly on her bed, laying on her side, facing his bed. Her hands were still on her book's cover, soft breaths being evidence enough of a sound fall. He knew he'd been told to wake her up, and approached the cot with an extended hand. Then, he froze. Kyoya had every intention to do as asked, but one looming question seemed to blot out his assigned duty.

How?

He'd never woken a girl up before, at least not by her own intention. Sure, he'd pulled plenty of friendly pranks on a slumbering Reika, but never once had she wanted him to wake her up. And now, without any funny business? How was he supposed to go about that?

"Okay, come on, it can't be that hard." He shivered, taking his hand back. " Maybe... Wait, right! I can just tap the bed-"

"Oh, hey, my bad... The book I swiped from the Archive really mellowed out quicker than I'd hoped."

Lyric had awoken without any intervention from the Miscreant, lightly rubbing her eyes and stretching. Following that, a weight of innumerable boulders lifted itself from his back. "You done in there?"

"Yeah, all set. Think you can do the same if I end up asleep by the time you're out?"

"Honestly, I rinsed off ages ago. You took a while so I just did that and fell on out." Lyric shrugged to a perplexed Miscreant.

"...Rinsed off?"

"Right, right, I never mentioned that. My Burst is tri-elemental, using Thunder, Water, and Air. I don't actually have to bathe because I can just clean myself whenever I need to, and then use the Air bit to dry everything off. But it still falls short of a soak in a warm bath, that's for damn sure... It's mostly just a convenience."

The tail end of her explanation carried a mock-sadness with it, bringing a grin to the both of them. Kyoya walked to the foot of his bed, jumped up onto it, and laid back. Pillows were always so inviting.

"So... Got any of those 'ideas' you mentioned earlier?" Kyoya looked her way, hands interlaced behind his head.

"Oh, do I." Challenged the Seraph. "But, I guess it's more of a single idea. At least this time, anyway."

"Yeah? Do tell."

The girl leaned back on her hands and stared up, seeming to pierce straight through the ceiling that tried so hard to prevent the stars from reaching her.

Though, a thought afterward made him wonder if it was actually trying to keep the stars safe from her.

"See, I did some brainstorming while you were freshening up. Between you and me, you don't act a smidge like I'd think the Glory would... But, I was thinking, what if it's not the be-all-end-all with whatever's written? One of those 'eye of the beholder' type things... Y'know?"

Kyoya hadn't considered that. Up until that point, everything about the legends told to him were fine-cut and set in stone. The idea that any bit of it could be more on the subjective side was definitely a curveball, but not something he was ready to dismiss right away. Judging by Lyric's lack of any humorous flair with her statement, it seemed that she felt the same.

"I never really thought about it that way, now that you mention it. I can't say that there's a lot about me that screams Glorious, but I'm not the one who's looking for it, either, so who am I to know?"

"That's where you're off, newbie." Lyric nodded with closed eyes. "It seems to me like it's as little as a flip of a switch, between you and Kyoaekon. The Legendary Glory was a fighter who's entire being revolved around his overwhelming strength; clashes of power almost always ended with him on top, and when anyone tried him, they got put in their place before a Tracker Hound could smell food."

The record she recounted was one that, oddly, didn't trigger any of that damned deja-vu from so many times prior. It's absence in such an explanation offered up a less than comforting vibe, but he'd have plenty of time to wallow in that later.

She continued, "But, with you, it seems like your glory stems from your... Character? Sure, you can go toe-to-toe with a Demon, and your numbers are up there with the best of them, but you never once seemed to get so full of yourself the way Kyoaekon was told to have. If not in the fight, then after, when that kid came up to you. You just seemed so sincere..."

She followed that with a sigh, laying all the way back with both arms out. "...Long story short, I'd like to think that you really are his successor. No, I hope it's you. Takera knows how long it's been since the Glory was as fun to have around as you are... It'd be a damn nice change of pace, no doubt."

"Really makes me wonder just what kind of person Kyoaekon was, when you put it that way. Was the original really that stuck-up?"

"As far as I've read, just about. Don't get me wrong -- I've got nothing against glory. Hell, I'd say I'm a solid next-in-line for the spot with an ego like mine. But there's always been this trend of his descendants being disconnected from the rest of the Defiant because of it."

Lyric's eyes found whatever laid beyond the stone canopy once again, that amber glint shining in reply to her star-bound listeners. "But, even if you can call it wishful thinking... With the kind of person you've shown to be, I want to believe that we won't have any problems like that. At least, that's what I think."

The boy hadn't an answer for a pep talk quite like that. She'd given an unmistakably clear response to his claim of not knowing what about him could be called 'glorious', and in that, he gained an even clearer insight as to where the future could take him.

Of course, even clearer was still far from truly clear, but as he'd learned time and time again, every bit was to be accounted for.

"You've got me all tangled up, again. Go figure."

Kyoya smiled at the ceiling with her. He had no idea what it was that she found so fixating about it, but the thought that maybe it would reveal itself to him by mirroring her was too tempting to pass. "Now I've got tons to think about. Thanks." He chuckled and turned to face the window, pulling the sheets up to his chest.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger. I just tell it how it is; no more, no less." She leaned over and blew out the candle on the nightstand between them, then turned to the other side and pulled her blanket up as well.

"Yeah, right."

Warm, soothing darkness covered all but a dimly lit lantern hanging from the ceiling, providing just enough visibility to see the outline of their forms in the window's reflection. Following a few minutes of restful silence, Lyric softly added to his list of reasons to trust in whatever she had in store for them.

"Hey... I don't really know how to put this, but... Thanks for today, Kyoya. I really, really had a lot of fun, even if it was a little scary down the middle. We'll have a lot to do pretty soon, and not all of it's gonna be easy, but we'll clear it without a hitch."

The Seraph took a long, hard pause before finishing. "And, if it turns out that by some stroke of bad luck, you're not really the Glory..."

The silence that overtook them was intimidating, but Lyric did away with that with ease. "Let's stay friends... I think you owe me that much."

His reply needed no further thought.

"That wouldn't have been a question, anyway, y'know... But, if you have to hear it, I'll drink to that. Deal."

"Not if I've got anything to say. You're underage."

"It's a figure of speech, Seraphim."

"You're a figure of speech."

"G'night, Lyric."

Her sheets rustled for a bit before she spoke again.

"Yeah... Rest easy."