reflection ● jason grace

Well, this has never happened before.

 Daria's mood got worse after lunch.

In a rush, she showered, muttered her hellos to Clara and Dakota (expectedly, Reyna was nowhere in sight), grabbed a sandwich and gulped it down as she walked back towards the barracks. There was static in the air, a mix of humidity and defeat from a war they hadn't even fought yet.

There was one thing that had pricked at her as she washed her hair. She didn't want to believe it, but there was no way Jason got those things from anyone but Daniel. In the state the praetor was in, it seemed that his sense of discretion was gone.

Speak of the devil...Daria was coming up on the Field of Mars where Daniel was teaching a sword-fighting class. Though, what the praetor was doing teaching a bunch of pre-teens, Daria wasn't sure.

"Here comes Daria," Daniel shot her one of his fake blinding grins, with his teeth so white she wouldn't be surprised if they were magicked to look that way. "She's one of the best sword fighters at camp. I'm sure she'd be happy to teach you some stuff."

Daria wheeled around, glaring. Usually, there were lines she didn't dare to cross with Daniel, especially after Mitch vanished. Today, that changed. "Go screw yourself, Daniel."

She didn't wait for a follow-up, storming away before he could respond even though the mutters and whispers after her statement were nearly defending. Somehow, the roles became reversed over the years; now Daria was the rash one.

Daria wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

She took a deep breath to prepare herself. Last December they'd been separated for 5 days. Two months apart from your best friend was a hell of an awakening.

For her, at least. Jason had become even more unreadable in the last few months. Every time she talked to him, she got a queasy feeling in her stomach, either from the crush or the fact that Jason found her annoying.

He didn't like her, and she couldn't like him.

But they were still friends, so she figured that this little chat wasn't going to be a big deal. She would convince him to stop smoking and they would continue like they had since they were five. She wasn't even anxious about it. Because she knew her Jason, and he would never hurt her.

Daria walked fast so that no one could stop her. She reached his cohort without many distractions. Everyone seemed to have better things to do, like the world might not get destroyed in T-minus 2 years.

His door was shut. "Jason?" She called softly so no one else heard. "It's me."

The door swung open almost immediately. Apart from the bags under his eyes and the picked at fingernails, he looked the same: his hair cut short and his blue eyes sharp, holding secrets that no one but her understood.

"You're back," he said obviously. He left the door open as he retreated, which Daria took as an invitation. She shut it behind her. "Thought Michael had gotten you killed or something."

Daria raised her eyebrows. "Why do you assume it was Michael?"

"I," he looked like he wanted to say something, but changed his mind at the last minute. Swallowing hard. "Nevermind. What's up? I'm just finishing up my CS."

CS was short for Centurion Sheet, a weekly three-page record the centurions had to fill out as a part of their duties. Jason had never looked so eager to be alone with his work. Something was wrong.

She creased her eyebrows as Jason sat at his desk. Maybe it was selfish of her, but she expected more of a warm welcome. Though she wasn't sure why. Not like anything had changed about the cold Jason she'd come to know after the siege. "Are you okay?"