They sat as far apart from each other as physically possible in the taxi. Magnus had taken the window. Alex had taken the opposite side. The space between them could have fit two whole people.
They were not touching. Not looking. Not even speaking.
The driver glanced at them once through the rearview mirror, clearly trying to piece together what kind of argument required that much distance in a backseat, then wisely decided it wasn't his business. The silence stretched the entire ride.
And it continued even after they got back to campus.
Still not looking at each other, they just paid, stepped out, and walked in different directions like that had always been the plan.
The next morning didn't fix anything. It just… continued. Jordan noticed it within five minutes.
Magnus showed up to training looking like he'd slept, but not rested. His movements were sharp, efficient, and just a little too forceful to be normal. A bit coiled. Like he was channeling something into it.
She watched him for a bit longer than usual between sets.
"You and Reyes fought or something?" she asked finally.
"Yeah," he said.
Jordan made a face, like she hated what she was about to say:
"Want to talk about it?"
"No," he said flatly.
"Oh thank god!"
He glanced at her.
"I wanted to return the favor," she scratched the back of her neck, like she regretted even bringing it up, "for Monday. But I cannot handle yours and Reyes's drama!"
Despite everything, Magnus made a sound dangerously close to a chuckle. "I'm not ready to talk about this yet. Maybe some other time."
Magnus saw an expression he never expected to see on Jordan's face — horrified — for a split second, then she snapped back to her usual scowl:
"Nope! That was a one-time offer. Never gonna happen again. Don't get used to it!"
A beat.
"Alright," she shifted gears, tossing him a towel. "Since you didn't want to talk. Back to training!"
And that was that. They trained.
***
The campus, however, had no such restraint.
By breakfast, the hive mind had already decided something was wrong.
"Troubles in paradise?" one reply popped up in the ever-growing Alejandra Reyes Is Insufferably in Love thread, complete with a photo of Alex sitting alone, stabbing her breakfast like it had personally offended her.
"Wait, did they break up???" another asked.
"No way. With how annoying they were being the past month? It's probably just a fight, a small one," another replied.
"Bro she looks MAD mad!" the one who posted the picture said.
At first, people didn't buy it.
"Relax. Couples don't have to eat together every day."
"She's probably just early."
"Or he's held up by Jordan again."
Then first period started. Someone in Power, Media, and Society posted a picture.
Magnus and Alex. Same room. Same class.
But sitting on different sides. And not looking at each other.
That was all it took.
"OH THEY FOUGHT FOUGHT"
"I'm giving it three days before they're back to being unbearable."
"No way. This feels serious."
The thread exploded. With speculation, theories, and…
"Taking bets: breakup or just fight?"
"Fight. No way they break up that fast."
"$10 says they make up within 48 hours."
"$20 says it was Magnus' fault!"
"$20 says it was BOTH their fault!"
Sofia, naturally, got involved. Why wouldn't she? Information had value. Insight had profit. And Sofia? She had both — and more importantly, proximity. So, if the campus was going to gamble on her best friend's love life, she was at least going to make sure she profited from it.
Even the professor noticed. She walked into class, took one look at the seating arrangement, paused just long enough to acknowledge that something was off… then continued like nothing had happened. No comment. No question. Just business as usual. At the end of class, though, she adjusted her glasses and said, almost offhand:
"Finals are next week. Which means presentations. You can find your group's presentation slot arrangement online. Whatever is happening in your personal lives—" A brief pause. "—make sure it does not affect your academic performance."
Whether that was directed at anyone in particular… remained unconfirmed.
The group meeting that followed was… functional.
Magnus still did what he always did. Grabbed food. Drinks. Made sure everyone had what they needed.
Alex took hers. Then barely touched it.
They went over the presentation: Clean. Efficient. Professional.
No friction in the work. Yet no warmth outside of it, either.
The air around them was thick enough that one of their groupmates coughed — once, loudly — then glanced between them before making a decision.
"Hey," he said, grabbing Magnus by the arm and pulling him aside. "What happened between you and Alex?"
"Nothing," Magnus replied, unconvincingly.
The guy stared at him. "…Right."
"It won't affect the project," Magnus added.
The colleague studied him for a second longer than necessary.
Then shrugged. "Alright."
He didn't press. But he did open the thread and type in:
"Alright, $20 that they won't make up for at least 3 days."
***
Lunch was… a different kind of awkward.
They left the meeting at the same time. They had class after. The cafeteria was crowded. There were limited tables. So they sat at the same one. Far apart. On opposite sides, yet not looking at each other.
Another photo hit the thread. More comments. More bets.
Sofia arrived, took one look at the situation, and dropped into a seat somewhere between them like someone accepting her fate.
They talked to her. Occasionally and individually. Never to each other. Be it casual talk or refreshing and adjusting the plans for Jordan's meet the following day.
After a while, Sofia dragged a hand down her face.
"I never thought I'd prefer your PDA overdose over…" she gestured vaguely between them, "…whatever this is!"
"We're fine!" Alex snapped. "Just having a disagreement on someone's survival strategy. Or rather, suicidal tendency."
Magnus ignored her. Didn't even look up.
Sofia stared at them both, deeply unimpressed.
"…Right," she said slowly. Then, with the tone of someone clinging to practicality for survival, "Well. Just remember, you two still agreed to bathe Tony before tomorrow. Whatever this is, it doesn't absolve you from that responsibility."
"Right," Magnus muttered. "We still have that to look forward to."
***
Tony knew something was wrong.
Not because of anything obvious. Because no one was paying proper attention to him.
"This is unacceptable," he declared, perched on Magnus's desk as they prepared the… setup.
The setup being: a plastic basin Magnus had somehow managed to borrow from Mr. Stewart, layers of tarp on the floor to reduce the mess they'd have to clean later, towels, soap, and probably many very questionable life decisions.
And because neither of them was speaking to each other.
"…Disturbing," Tony said after neither of them reacted, too busy not looking at each other. "The silence is unnatural. Like prey before a storm."
"No one asked," Magnus muttered.
Alex said nothing, rolling up her sleeves. Tony's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…You are both upset."
"Observation noted," Magnus said flatly.
"And yet you cooperate," Tony continued, watching them move around each other with careful efficiency. "Curious. Hostility without collapse. This is either maturity… or delayed disaster."
"Tony," Magnus said tiredly.
"Yes?"
"Get in the tub."
"No!"
"We had a deal!"
"Yes," Tony said. "A deal made under duress. Pizza-based coercion."
"You negotiated the terms," Magnus said.
"I was hungry."
"You were eating at the time!"
"That doesn't mean I wasn't still hungry," the raccoon said, backing away slowly. "Also, that was before I understood the depth of your treachery!"
"Tony—"
"I was promised pizza. Not betrayal!"
"You're getting the pizza after this," Magnus said, flat.
Alex had somehow moved behind Tony without a sound, then lunged and caught him by surprise.
The raccoon yelped. "This is betrayal! You are no longer my second favorite!"
Magnus pinched the bridge of his nose. "He says this is betrayal. And that you're no longer his second favorite human after Jordan."
"I can tell," Alex said flatly, holding the scruff of the raccoon while he tried — unsuccessfully — to wriggle out of her grip. "He's very expressive."
"This is cultural erasure!"
"…He says—actually, never mind."
"Say it!"
Magnus sighed. "He says it's cultural erasure."
Alex blinked. Then looked down at Tony. "…You smell like a landfill."
"I smell like heritage!"
Magnus didn't translate that one.
What followed was less a bath and more a small-scale war crime.
The borrowed basin was not built for this.
Tony braced his paws against the edge like he was preparing for execution.
"This is how it ends! Not in glory. Not in legend. But drowned in a plastic basin!"
"He says—"
"I can guess!" Alex snapped. "Just… hold him still!"
"I am holding him—"
Tony writhed. Water splashed.
Alex flinched. "Oh my god!"
Tony slipped from their grasp and launched himself off the desk, hit the wall, then rebounded toward the window.
Magnus's hand shot out and telekinetically caught him mid-air, reflexes kicking in before thought.
"Traitor!" Tony screeched.
"Just—stay still!" Magnus grunted, pulling the raccoon back as Tony twisted like a furry, furious eel.
Alex stepped in, grabbing a handful of damp fur. "I've got him—no wait, I don't—why is he so strong?!"
"I am fueled by righteous indignation!"
"You're fueled by trash!" Magnus countered.
"Those are the same thing!"
They got him back into the basin.
For approximately three seconds.
Then, water splashed everywhere and Tony exploded out of it like a soaked missile, hit Magnus square in the chest, then scrambled up his shoulder.
"I will remember this!" he declared.
Magnus grabbed him again. This time, Alex was ready. They forced him back in.
Water. Soap. Chaos.
At some point, Magnus said, "We should—talk about—"
Tony shrieked as soap hit his back. "Chemical warfare!"
"—last night—"
"Betrayal and poisoning!"
Alex scrubbed harder than necessary. "Hold him still!"
"I am not a thing to be held!"
They wrestled him for another minute. Water sloshed onto the tarp. Off the tarp. Onto the floor. Onto everything.
"Assassination attempt!"
Alex's hair started sticking to her face. Magnus's shirt was soaked. Tony looked like a wet, furious mop with opinions.
Then Tony kicked free, nearly launching himself out a third time.
"Freedom!"
Magnus didn't even look up, just telekinetically pulled him back into the basin like this was a completely normal part of his day.
They wrestled a few more minutes.
"…We can't just ignore it," Magnus said, quieter this time, trying again.
Alex didn't look at him. "We're not doing this now."
"We're already here."
Tony flailed violently. "I am also here! Against my will!"
"No, you're not—" Magnus snapped back. "Just… hold still!"
Alex finally glanced at Magnus. For a second. Then away.
"…You made your choice," she said.
Tony kicked. Water splashed directly into Magnus's face.
"Vision impairment! Tactical advantage!"
Magnus sputtered. "You're the one who—"
Tony clawed his way halfway out again.
"Nope—nope!" Alex grabbed him, dragging him back down. "You're not done!"
"I am done!"
"You're still dirty!"
"I am culturally enriched!"
Magnus exhaled sharply.
"…We'll talk later," he said.
Alex didn't answer.
They finished the bath in silence after that.
By the end of it, Tony sat wrapped in a towel, nibbling on Pizza, looking like a deeply offended, slightly deflated monarch.
"I have been stripped of dignity," he said.
"You're cleaner," Magnus replied.
"I was perfect as I was."
Alex tossed another towel at Magnus. "Dry off."
"This will not be forgotten," Tony sniffed. "Nor forgiven."
"Yeah, yeah," Magnus muttered as he caught the towel.
There was a pause. Then Alex stood.
"I should go," she said.
Magnus nodded.
She hesitated for half a second. Like she might say something.
Then didn't.
And just left instead.
***
The door closed behind her. The room felt… quieter after she left.
Magnus exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. Tony watched him.
"…You are leaking," the raccoon observed.
"And whose fault is it?" Magnus asked tiredly, not even looking back.
"…Yours. You've brought this all upon yourself!"
Magnus didn't argue. He just stood there for a moment, staring at nothing.
Then his phone buzzed. He frowned, pulling it out. A message.
Mom: Happy Birthday, Magnus! Congratulation on the big 21! You're legally an adult now!
He stared at it for several seconds.
Then glanced at the time and date at the top of the screen.
21:00 March 1st, 2035.
"…Right," he muttered. "It's today."