Scarves and Scars

A Honed Blade

"Who's in there?"

Sam jolted, staring at the door. "I'll be out in a couple minutes." She croaked. A hand wrapped around the countertop, pulling herself up to her feet. She snatched a handful of rough, brown paper towels. Wetting them and scrubbing her tear stained face then drying as best she could. Trying to get rid of her ruined make up. "Just give me, a moment."

She just needed a moment.

Sam forced the emotions back behind her dam. It was far easier to let it out than put it back. She frowned, she can grieve later. She must. She pulled her purse and pulled out her travel make up bag out. She set back to applying a new foundation with lip gloss and mascara. She looked into the mirror at her blood shot red eyes that looked so, out of place against the pale make up. That'll have to do. Sam could fake the rest. She was good at that.

Samantha frowned, she could deal with all of this later. Deal with her grief. She had too. She couldn't afford to take more time off. This was only her first year of teaching. Sam replaced the items in her purse and stared back at her reflection. Sluggish and drained of all motivation was what she felt. How she looked, even with make up. It would have to do.

Sam grabbed her purse and quickly exited the bathroom, ducking under the security guard at the door. "Sorry." She mumbled, heading to get some sort of food before the next round for the first years started.

An anger blossomed in her chest, he did this to get her attention. He had kill him for her. Righteous anger simmered and overtook the mournful sorrow of her heart. Samantha's burgundy eyes sharpened and focused into a glower. He had her undivided attention now.

Samantha grabbed something easy and quick to eat while she ate she force more emotions down. She settled into what James' called Media Militia and with that she headed back to the commentator's booth. "Took you long enough, Sammy!"

"Sorry, Mic." Sam murmured, taking her seat. "Just something came up."

Hizashi frowned at her eyes and covered his microphone. "Everything good, Sam?" He asked. Aizawa peered over at Sam through his bandages.

No, everything wasn't.

"Yeah, everything is great! Just ate some spicy ramen. Sucker for heat." Sam lied with a smile. How easy was it? Being around James, she learned and tweaked her lying skills. He always could tell when Sam lied but he did indulge her and shared all of her tells to her. "Has the festival restarted?" She asked, knowing the answer. She looked down to the wide field. Students running about on the green grass and Sam could see Cementoss working to build the last stage of the first year's part of the festival. Sam's smile dropped as she watched Midnight speak to the students.

Sam didn't pay much attention to the brackets or the battles. She made comments about the fights but didn't put that much attention into them. They blurred together and she really couldn't tell you who won or what happened. Sam's mind was elsewhere. She was planning. Jack killed him to get her attention and now that he had it. Samantha wasn't letting him go, so easily. Not without paying him back in kind.

Sam forgot about her promise to Tensei and after the first year's champion was announced, she tried to slip away. If she wanted to do what she needed to do on Sunday, she needed to get the hell out of her cast. Only one way to do that in London, a contact that James had. One that she's meet before, an underground doctor for the darker side of London's underbelly. "Sammy!" Hizashi called out before she could flee.

"Yeah?"

"We're going out with the other teachers and some of the heroes that are on security for drinks."

"No, I have a lot of papers to grade." Sam shook her head. "Maybe tomorrow or some other time? Bye!" She took her leave from the commentator's booth. Hizashi looked over at Shouta and back to where Sam had been.