=====
 

No response. Miklotov didn't even look up from his textbook.

Camus sighed, redraped himself over the back of his own chair, and tried again. "Miiii~ik..."

Miklotov grunted. Well, it was something. Camus promptly beamed and started chanting softly at the back of his fellow cadet's head. "Mik? Mik? Mik? Miii~ik? Mik? Mik--"

"What?" Miklotov finally exploded, throwing his pen down onto his desk and whipping around in his chair. From the other end of the library the White-Knight-turned-librarian shot a glare in their general direction.

Camus immediately decided he was affronted. "Well, if you're going to be like that, Mik, never mind."

"God's sake, Camus, what?" This time it was a low and barely controlled growl, and Camus decided that was acceptable.

"I was just wondering. Which company do you hope you get into?"

With an effort, Miklotov brought his temper back under control. "I don't think it matters." Miklotov's hand strayed up over his gray cadet's jacket to close on the tricolored insignia over his heart. "It'd be an honor to be asked to join any of the three."

Camus smiled indulgently at him. That was so Mik that it kind of hurt, really. "No preference at all, Mik? Not even a teeny-weeny itsy-bitsy preference?"

"No."

"Not even the slightest tiniest--"

"No."

"Oh, come on, Mik."

"..."

"Pleeeease?"

"... I wouldn't mind joining the White. They're always in the vanguard now that Gorudo's in charge..."

"Aww, Mik, you want to be a hero! That's so cute!" Camus reached out across the narrow walkway to ruffle Miklotov's bangs. Miklotov scowled at him and raked them straight again. "Me, I hope I get to be a Red Knight."

"Eh? Why?" Miklotov blinked at Camus from behind his hand.

"Because blue's not a good color on me at all, and neither is solid white, so..."

Miklotov blinked again and let his hand drop. "You... you want to be a Red Knight because... because you think you look best in red?"

Camus nodded enthusiastically.

"Because of a fashion decision?!" Miklotov looked so absolutely scandalized that Camus almost--almost--felt bad about it. "You want to join the Red Knights just so you can look good?"

By this time Miklotov's outraged voice was edging dangerously close to a shout, and Camus gestured at him frantically to keep it down. With an effort he managed to do so. Camus made a little 'humph'ing sound and patted at his own gray jacket. "Didn't you just say that it would be an honor to be asked to join any of the three companies?"

"Well..."

"You did!" Camus pointed at Miklotov. "And I agree. I totally agree. It would be. So..." With a gleam in his eyes Camus swooped in for the kill. "If it would be an honor to be asked to join any of the three--which it would be--why can't I really hope that I just manage to make it into any one of the three and cherish a teensy-weensy little hope that I get to be a Red Knight, even if it's for a silly reason?"

Miklotov's mouth opened, but he didn't say anything. Camus beamed like he'd just won every argument ever and turned around, going back to his own textbook. 

After an astonishingly long time, Miklotov said, "You'll make it. I know you will. You're the best of all of us."

Camus shot back around in his chair, but Miklotov had already turned back to his studying, and the back of his head was entirely uninformative.

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