Suzy
October 10, 2007. 6:55 p.m. Inside the school infirmary. I have been supervising Doc patch up my students for a while now. It’s utterly fascinating. No injections. No sutures. No medical gear. The stories are true. She really just lays her hands on them and heals them. But how though… All I know is that it takes some time to heal. If I can figure that out, I’ll feel much safer. Until then, I’m not letting this witch touch me.
In just half an hour, she turned a room full of horribly maimed students into perfectly healthy heroes ready to go. I’d be more grateful if she wasn’t so sketchy. “So.” I peer around her shoulder from a safe distance. “When did you discover your Tech?”
“Oh, I was just a wee lass playing with my brother.” Doc keeps her hands firmly pressed against a student’s ribcage. I can see some bones slowly shift back into alignment while others simply fall off and get replaced with new bones. It doesn’t appear to be hurting the student… Either that or this kid’s a huge badass. “We were just play-fighting with sticks and I cut his eye open quite badly. Blood was everywhere and I could see some of his aqueous humor… Well, I did not know it was aqueous humor at the time. I thought it was jelly…”
“Then what happened?”
“He started bellowing and I tried to put his eye back in before my parents or the abbot heard us. A few moments later, he was fine. A wee shaken from the experience, but good and healthy nonetheless.”
“That’s fantastic.” I slip a coffee bean into my mouth and begin sucking on it like candy. “Having a Tech like that is pretty lucky.”
Doc moves her hands up to the student’s shredded tricep and tendons and muscles begin reforming. She pauses for just a fraction of a fraction of a moment before responding. “I suppose… Are healing Techs rare?”
“Indeed. I’ve seen all manner of Techs at this place. Some borderline worthless, some gross, some oddly specific, but nothing like yours.”
“How odd… I would have thought more people would have healing Techs… Unfortunate.”
“Yeah, well. That’s just how it is. Some people get real unlucky with their Techs.” I shrug as Doc finishes patching up the last student in the infirmary. “Thank you so much for all your work here. I really appreciate it. I don’t know how half these kids would’ve lived without you.”
The student feels their chest, smiles, and books it out of the infirmary and towards the Emerald Coast hall.
“It is no issue.” Doc waves her hand and stands up straight. “I’m just doing what’s right.”
“Good. That’s what being a hero’s all about.” I rub my neck. “Are you hungry? Me and the local press are throwing a little recovery dinner for all the students you just patched up. Care to join?”
“I would love that.” Doc flashes a smile. “I’m rather famished.”
God… she smiles like my grandma. Smells like her too. Why do old people smell like that? Is it decay? Is there some old lady detergent that I’ll be using in two decades? Or do they just not know how they smell? “Cool. Follow me. I’ll lead you over to the hall.”
“Excellent.” I start leading Doc down the stairs, out of the infirmary, and across the park to the event center. All the while, I’m keeping at least two arms length away from her. “Would you want to work for me? You wouldn’t have to be on site all the time. If you could just come in every one or two months, I’d be super grateful.”
I see Doc’s eyes wander around the park. What’s wrong? Looking for Will? “I appreciate the offer, but I need to help so many other people… It would be unfair to stay here.”
“I get that. That’s fair.” We turn around the big tree and approach the event center.
“Mm.” Doc nods. “I will be blunt. Where are you holding the experiments?”
Janelle
October 10, 2007. 7:37 p.m. That… midterm was not great. I think I at least got a C? But that could easily just be wishful thinking. I don’t know if I understood the prompt or if I explained myself well enough. I don’t even know my professor’s justice ideology. If I knew what they stood for, I could just say what they wanted to hear and pass no problem.
I open the door to my dorm and see Josh and Angela wrestling on the ground. Please be clothed. Okay they’re clothed… good.
“Take it back!” Josh puts Angela in a headlock.
“I’m so sorry for being right!” Angela squirms and shuffles before biting into Josh’s arm. It looks like a chihuahua trying to bite into a redwood.
The door closes behind me and I slip my key into my back pocket. “Should I even ask?”
“Do you care about the gravure industry?” Angela asks with her tongue still slobbering on Josh’s arm.
“I don’t even want to know what that is. It sounds gross.”
“No! It’s an artform!” Josh insists before suplexing Angela into the sofa. “Some philistines can’t understand art when they see it!”
“Just say you like softcore porn and chill out already!” Angela digitizes herself into the tv, then shoots herself out of the ceiling lamp above them to tackle Josh onto the floor.
The door to the dorm starts to lightly shake and shift. I can hear a key try to turn the lock.
The three of us stop in our tracks and look towards the door.
“Josh. Angela. Did either of you lose your dorm keys?”
“No…” They reply in unison.
The door swings open to reveal Sejong in khakis, a pastel blue shirt with ‘Seondeok Fanclub President’ written across the chest, and big party glasses that say ‘Seoul Life’ across the lens. He trudges into the dorm with two bags of luggage behind him. “Hey hey! I’m back from visiting my family. What’d I miss?”
Sparks begin to shoot out of my arms and I hear Josh cock a gun. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Sejong flinches backwards, falls over his luggage and onto the ground, and covers his face. “Whoa whoa! Whatever I did, I’m sorry! P-please don’t hurt me!” He begins to cry.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Josh steps up and keeps his piece aimed at Sejong. “You attacked the school and; more importantly, sent Faust after me! The hell is wrong with you?!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about… I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Sejong wipes tears from his eyes. “Please…”
“Hah! I knew I didn’t dream that!” Angela starts to chuckle. “Yeah… sorry, guys. Sejong told me he was visiting his family for a wedding a week or two ago. Was kind of a last minute thing and I forgot to tell you guys. Sorry.”
“Wait… what?” I absorb the fire on my arms. “Sejong, is that true?”
“Yeah…” he wipes his nose and pulls out a scrapbook from his luggage. “I even have a bunch of pictures to prove it…”
“Wait…” Josh looks at Sejong, then at the scrapbook, then at Angela, then back at Sejong. “If you’re here… then who was Sejong?”
“I don’t get the question…” Sejong wipes his eye.
“Alright, alright.” Josh holsters his gun back in his ankle holster then goes to help Sejong to his feet. “You missed a lot. Let’s catch you up to speed.”
Twenty minutes and some instant hot cocoa later, everyone got caught up to speed sitting around the kitchen table.
“Alright… alright…” Josh rubs his temple and takes a sip of cocoa. “Damn that’s good. So… you’re another Sejong ‘clone’. Correct?”
“Essentially. Yeah.” Sejong nods.
“And the one that released that Petra chick and sent Faust after me were different Sejongs who may or may not be the same Sejong?”
“Correct.” Sejong nods. “But I can assure you that I am the same Sejong from the entrance exam.”
“I don’t believe that… That’s too convenient.” I shake my head and keep my eyes locked on Sejong. “How can you prove that?”
“I can’t.” Sejong sighed. “You just have to take my word for it.”
“How do we know you’re not a villainous Sejong?” I feel some fire escape my fingertips.
“What if I’m a Sejong? Or Josh?” Angela interrupts before turning to me. “Or you? We can go on all day.”
I don’t like that.
“There’s only one way to prove if this dude right here is the Sejong I know…” she slams an arcade stick on the table. “And that’s with a game of Third Strike.”
I glance back to the living room table then back to the kitchen table. “When did you- never mind… Go do your thing… I have a headache now…”
Angela and Sejong play some rounds of their game before retreating back to the table. “Can confirm.” Angela raises her finger. “This right here is at least one of the same Sejong(s) we know. He’s doing all the same patterns and falling for the same stuff Sejong did.”
“That’s good.” Josh nods. “So… how do we break this news to Headmaster?”
“Ooh…” Angela goes bug-eyed for a moment. “Let’s wait till tomorrow. She has a lot going on tonight. Don’t want to give Boss a heart attack.”
CRASH BANG BOOM
We hear a series of odd, yet distinctly horrible noises come from Will’s dorm.
Will
October 10, 2007. 7:24 p.m. Let’s see… Probably aced my midterm, just imported some apology coffee beans for Headmaster, bought some sausages to cook for Janelle, did my daily running, studied for tomorrow’s midterms, and prayed my daily rosary. All that’s left to do is shower and go to bed. I undress, neatly fold my clothes in the corner, and hop into the cold water. Ooooh that’s cold… Frightfully cold, but it saves energy and is better for my health. Gosh darnit. I’m out of soap. I’m sure Yuko wouldn’t mind if I used some of hers. Let’s see… I’m not sure which soap to use. She has an entire wall just for her own soap. Exfoliator, Conditioner, Shampoo, Pre-Shampoo, Face Scrub, Moisturizer, De-Moisturizer. I just want the soap. Where is the body soap? I can’t ask her. That would be embarrassing. Ah, here we go: “Mango Passion Watermelon Berry Mix Body Blast”. I am going to assume this is the soap.
I press down on the nozzle, but no soap comes out. Only a small, but painful wheeze. Like a small, unfortunate frog is trapped inside a fruit-scented plastic tomb. I squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze, but no soap comes out. “Oh, come now. Don’t tell me you’re empty too.” I give the bottle a swift, but gentle slap. No sense in abusing the poor thing.
“Bwah!” the bottle speaks. “Ow… What the hell was that for?!”
“Cheese and crackers!” I nearly fall out of the shower, but save myself by grabbing onto a towel rack. “What on earth?!”
“Ssssh!” Sejong’s voice comes from the bottle. “Will. Calm down. It’s me, Sejong.”
“Sejong?” I carefully rise to my feet. “What are you doing here? I thought you were back at Doc’s.”
“I am. Well, part of me is. Look, it’s too confusing to explain here. Headmaster has you on surveillance, right?”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“I mean no.” I shake my head. “What is it you’re not getting?”
“That seems a bit absurd.” The bottle grumbles. “She’s usually far more cautious than that.”
“About that…” I lather Vivian’s cotton candy shampoo into the back of my head and start rubbing the grime off my body. “I’m actually on her side.”
“What?!” The soap bottle shifts slightly. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You’re switching sides just like that?!”
“Switching?” I look down at the bottle. “I don’t recall ever saying I was on your side.”
“So… you have chosen death.”
Next thing I knew, a sword sprung out of the shampoo bottle and thrust right towards my private parts. Fortunately, my body was still sharp as ever from washing the grime off it.
The sword bounces harmlessly off my scrotum and retreats into the bottle. “Damn… you’re faster than you look.”
“Thanks to all my training with A.D.” I put my hands on my hips and stand proudly before the Sejong bottle. “It’s going to take more than that to take me down.”
“I don’t have to take you down.” The bottle melts down into a viscous fluid and begins flowing towards the drain.
“No you don’t.” I quickly plug the drain.
click
The light in the shower room turns off. Darkness consumes me.
“Maybe your teammates will convince you.” Sejong’s voice trails off under the shower room door.
“No you don’t!” I jump out of the shower and fling the door open to the dorm hallway. Naked. Wow… The a.c. is frightfully effective. Regardless, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. The sink is still as disorganized as ever. The hallway is clear. The table by the kitchen looks normal. Only thing in the hallway is Vivian looking at me with a glass of milk in her hand.
“Good evening, Billy.” Vivian takes a sip of milk without missing a beat. “You’re looking virile tonight.”
“Sejong’s in the dorm!” I yell.
“What?!” Vivian breaks the glass against the wall, wields the broken remains, and puts her back to me. She looks ready to murder. Maybe… just a bit too ready. She hardly resembles the woman I was looking at mere moments ago. “Where?!”
“I don’t know! The power went out in the shower room! He was disguised as a soap bottle!” My eyes continue to scan the room for anything out of place.
“Oh… Oops… My bad. I turned off the light when I passed by. Didn’t hear the water running.”
“I appreciate you trying to save energy.” I look up at the ceiling. Nothing unusual.
“Why thank you. YUKO! A.D.! Get your asses out here!”
“Why?!” Yuko slams the door open. She has a cucumber slice over her left eye and cream all over her face. “Geez!” she grimaces, but grins upon glancing at me. “How do you even walk with that thing?!”
“What’s up?” A.D. calmly exits his room with a pair of headphones on. “Why does it smell like milk?”
“Sejong’s here. We don’t know where he is. Get ready to fight.”
“Aw shoot.” A.D. throws his headphones back on his bed, gets in a fighting stance, and puts his back against mine.
Yuko follows suit and goes shoulder to shoulder between me and Vivian.
This may sound weird… but it feels nice being back to back with allies. This must be the ‘super sonic power of teamwork’ Vivian is always going on about.
“What are we looking for?” I feel A.D. charge a fireball in his palms.
“Anything that looks out of place…” Vivian puts her hand to the wall and grows the remains of broken glass into a sword of glass that looks straight out of a Mad Max set.
“I see…” A.D. pivots around and around. “Say… why are there five toothbrushes?”
“Isn’t the plural teethbrushes?” Vivian asks.
A.D. blasts a fireball at the sink and a green toothbrush skitters off the counter, down the hallway, and into the kitchen.
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“Get that toothbrush!” Yuko yells out, but the toothbrush turns the corner into the den before her voice can hit it.
We all run after the brush, turn the corner, but can’t find any sign of it. Checked under the tables and couches, on the ceiling, and along the walls. No sign of Sejong.
“Darnit… he must’ve changed forms… Everyone, keep a sharp eye.”
“Wait…” Yuko glances towards me. “How do we know you’re not Sejong?”
“How do we know you’re not a Sejong?” I reply.
“Now is not the time!” Vivian begins swinging her glass stick at random objects, but stops juuust short of hitting anything in an effort to try and fake out Sejong I assume. “Doesn’t anything look out of place here?!”
I look around the room. Two chairs. One sofa. One coffee table. One lamp. One tv. One PS2. One Wii. Couple of game boxes. Kitchen table. Fridge… Damnit. There’s too many factors. It’d take all day to check every last item in here…
“Wait. Duh.” Yuko rolled her eyes and whispered. “Everyone shut your ears.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Just do it.” Vivian insists as her and A.D. cover their ears.
I follow suit. Don’t want to be rude.
Yuko checks to see if we all covered our ears, nods, and begins singing a lullaby.
I’m starting to feel drowsy… Real drowsy. I would probably be out on the floor right now if I didn’t have my ears covered.
Next thing I knew, a Sejong fell from the ceiling and right onto Yuko.
“Goddamnit!” Yuko hit the floor.
“Hey! Watch your language!” I bark at her.
“Oh, Will.” Yuko grunts trying to shove the sleeping Sejong off her. “You don’t have to thank me for saving your life or anything.”
“And you don’t have to use the Lord’s name in vain.”
A.D. taps me on the shoulder. “Dude. Chill.” He waves his arms before picking Sejong off of Yuko and carrying him around his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “You okay, Yuko?”
“Just peachy…” She groans and coughs. “Thanks for asking…”
Vivian extends her arm to Yuko and Yuko pulls herself up. “ Thanks, Viv. So… what’re we going to do with this sack of crap?”
“I mean… can’t we just, ya know…” Vivian slides her finger against her neck. “Does it even count as killing if the real one is back at a safe house somewhere?”
A.D. turns to Vivian. “Vivian.”
“Hey, I’m just spitballing.” Vivian takes a step back and throws up her hands. “Do you have any better ideas?”
“No killing for starters.” A.D. sighs. “You still good there, William? Wanna put some pants on?”
“Oh…” I glance down. “Yes. Pardon me for a second.”
Before I can retreat into my room to cover my original sin, Angela kicks the door to our dorm in with the rest of her team, including a Sejong who looks like he just got off vacation.
“Not another one.” Vivian pulls her arm back looking ready to throw her glass stick like a javelin.
“Hold on, hold on.” Josh yawns and puts himself between the awake Sejong and Vivian. “I feel like there’s a lot we need to discuss and get sorted out.” he glances over to the rest of us. “Also you’re naked. Might wanna fix that.”
“I was just about to.”
“Need Janelle to help you with that?” Josh smirks.
Janelle frowns and I hear a small thump come from Josh’s back.
“Aww c’mon.” Josh winces and laughs. “You know you want to.”
“Just hurry and change already, Will.” Janelle covers her eyes. I can hear her trying to conceal her beautiful giggle.
“Right. One minute please.”
I change into my pajamas, and all of us sit down and the awake Sejong catches us up on everything. Few minutes pass and everyone is caught up on everything.
“I see.” A.D. nods. “That explains… a lot. It’s complicated and makes me suspicious of all inanimate objects, but it does make sense. Thank you, Sejong.”
“I wish I was back in Pyongyang…” Sejong whines.
“So we agree that we’re keeping the sleeping Sejong under supervision until we can hand him over to the authorities or Headmaster?”
“Yep.” Everyone nods their heads in agreement except for Yuko.
“Wait a sec.” Yuko shakes her head. “I’m not supervising this prick all night. A.D., if you want this kid alive, you’re staying up with me.”
“Fair enough.” A.D. nods.
Suzy
October 10, 2007. Park outside the Event Hall building. I’ve been staring at Doc in silence for about 321 seconds at this point. She is growing only more confused and agitated as time goes on.
“What the heck is wrong with you?” Doc raises her voice and waves her hand in front of my eyes. “Are you having some sort of attack at the moment?”
“Nah.” I blink and step backwards towards the hall. “It just took me a while to process that. C’mon. We’re almost to the hall and I’m starving.”
“No. Confess to your sins right now.”
“What are you talking about?” I rub my temple.
“Junko told me everything.” Doc stares me in the eye.
I pause for a moment before sighing. My teeth grind against themselves. My nails nearly break the skin of my palm. My heart feels ready to explode, but only for a moment. After that, it all washes away back into the back of my mind. “I see.” I take a deep breath. “Tell you what, how about we enjoy a nice dinner and shake hands with everyone, then I’ll talk with you. How’s that sound?”
Doc’s stomach lets out an audible groan. “If that’s the only way to get you to talk, so be it.”
8:36 p.m. Emerald Coast Event Hall. Been shaking hands and talking with student families and some local reporters for the past hour. Food is better than expected. I don’t know who hired the new dining staff, but I want to give them a raise. I actually want to eat more. The potatoes are meh, but the steak is juicy and done just right. The vegetables are spicy, but incredibly sweet and savory at the same time. It’s the one nice thing about this night so far.
When Doc isn’t looking, I signal one of the waiters.
She nods, retreats into the kitchen, and returns two minutes later with two glasses of champagne. On the way back to the table, one of the glasses slides off the plate as if it were tossed by an invisible hand. Upon hitting the ground, the carpet under it gets burnt to a crisp. Good thing I’m wearing every kind of religious jewelry I could get my hands on… got this stuff blessed and doused with holy water and everything.
Doc turns to me. “I must say, these potatoes are quite lovely. They remind me of my mother’s cooking.”
I glance at the waiter and tilt my head slightly. She puts a series of napkins over the spilled champagne, retreats back into the kitchen, and returns to her usual waiting duties.
“That’s good to hear.” I nod. “When was the last time you had your mom’s cooking?”
A wry, empty smile curls across Doc’s lips. “Far…. far too long.”
My stomach’s full of meat and coffee. The music’s too loud. My hands are sweaty from shaking hands with too many people. I look out to the balcony, but it’s crowded. Damn… that would’ve been the perfect place for a conversation or an ‘accident’.
Doc licks the mashed potatoes from her fork, wipes her mouth clean with the napkin, and pushes the plate away. “Very well. I believe it is time for us to talk.”
“Very well.” I crack my knuckles and lean forward. “Just what the hell are you after? What’s your gambit?”
“I said it once and I’ll say it again. I just want to help people. There’s just… so much evil and hurt in this world. I want to do everything I can to make it better.”
I smile. “What a coincidence. I want to do that too.”
“I don’t believe you.” Doc shakes her head.
“I’m serious. I hate evil as much as you do. I legitimately want to help people.”
“Then why did you butcher Junko?”
“Then why’d your crony release Petra?”
Doc’s face flinches for a second. It looks like her heart just stopped. “No one died from that incident.”
“I appreciate that you don’t even deny it..” I grin. “I seen the reports and the bodies. Sure, you cured the petrified people, but there’s a lot of kids that Petra ate or tore to ribbons. Did you cure them?”
Doc’s nails dig into the table cloth. She opens her mouth to speak.
“Let me guess.” I interrupt her. “They were necessary sacrifices?”
“It’s not like that…” Doc’s face slowly begins to harden.
“Regardless of what you think, we should team up. Seriously. We both want the same thing.”
“I refuse to ally myself with a child murderer.”
“Oh, right. Right. Sorry. Because you didn’t kill those kids directly, it doesn’t count. You get to maintain a clean conscience while others suffer for your goals. Got it.”
Doc’s hand begins to tremble.
“What do you even want with Petra anyway? How does she fit into your gambit?”
Doc closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before flashing just about the coldest smile I’ve ever seen on another human. “You are more cunning than I gave you credit for… but let us not pretend you are any better than me.”
“I’m telling you. That was an accident.” The knife beside my plate begins to rattle. I take a deep breath and calm it down. “Listen, we have so much to gain by working with each other. I can give you money and intel. You can heal my students. Please consider this.”
“Not unless you admit to your crimes.”
“God damnit.” I rest my elbow on the table, rub my temple, and sigh. “Sanctimonious assholes are the worst kind of heroes. Always going on about love and healing and helping people, but you don’t actually help stop the problem. You just care about your ego.”
“Excuse me?” Doc looks unphased, but I can see her jaw tighten.
“You go around healing people and that’s wonderful. Legitimately wonderful, but wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t have to go around healing people in the first place? Wouldn’t it be better if there were no villains? No corrupt governments or institutions that hide behind the guise of ‘doing what’s best for the community’ while letting innocent people suffer.”
“What the hell are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying you’re nothing more than a bandage. You treat symptoms while I treat the disease.”
Doc chuckles. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard that? You will only become the blight you despise.
“You’re full of crap.”
“I guess that makes two of us.” Doc closes her eyes and smiles. “How do you intend to help people? World domination?”
“If that’s what it takes. Normal people lack the strength and conviction to govern themselves.”
“And what makes you so certain you do?”
“Because I’m better. That’s all there is to it.”
Doc shakes her head. “Moving on, I won’t let you get away with murdering Junko.”
“Really? What do you intend to do about it?” I lean back, keep my feet away from under the table, and cross my arms.
“I can bring Patricia back if you free the experiments and turn yourself in.” She smiles coldly.
Ohohohohoho… You… bitch. “I don’t believe you.”
“Aaaw… why not?”
If we weren’t in a crowded place, I’d snap this bitch in half. “I watched you kill her on live tv. You blew up her head two weeks ago. No one can heal that. No one.”
“How do you know that was really Patricia?”
“You…”
Doc rests her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. “What if I told you that was just another Sejong?”
Something’s forming in my throat. “I don’t believe you.” I shake my head. “Patricia’s gone. She’s been gone.”
“Are you telling me or yourself that?”
I close my eyes for a moment and sigh through my teeth.
“She’s learned how to speak English again.” Her stupid grin only grows wider.
“Uh huh. Sure.” I clench my thigh under the table.
“She keeps talking about you too. About all the good times you had… about how smart you are. She really hopes you’re still alive.”
“Shut. Up.”
“Or else what? You’re going to hurt me in front of all these people?”
“It’s best for both of us if you just leave right now. Okay?”
Doc’s hand slides under the table.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.” I lock eyes with her.
“I’m just getting my phone.” she pulls a phone out of her pocket and begins dialing.
“Who the hell are you calling?”
“Who do you think?” Doc puts the phone to her ear and leans back in her seat.
“Even if she was alive, you can’t heal her. That alien D.N.A. is interwoven with her. It’s not an injury.”
“My Tech manipulates cells. I can kill the alien cells and replace them with human cells.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Would you believe me if I said anything else?”
“Just ge-”
Doc raises a finger towards me and begins talking on the phone. “Yes. It’s me. Yes, yes. The party’s wonderful. Thank you for asking. No, there isn’t anyone from Hanoi. No, this is not the time for that. Could you put Patricia on the line for me? Thank you.” She slides the phone over on the table. “It’s for you.”
I stare at the phone. My teeth feel ready to shatter against each other. Before I know it, my hand picks up the phone and presses it to my ear.
“Suzy? Hello? A-are you there?” Patty’s voice rings from the other end of the line.
That… that’s her voice… the cadence, the pitch, the mannerisms… Impossible.
“Suz. Yo. C’mon. Pick up. I’m not mad at all. Seriously.”
I hang up and throw the phone at Doc. “Leave.”
“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to talk to her?” That damn smile won’t leave her face.
I avoid looking at her directly. “Just go. Now.”
“I’m not leaving until you talk to Patty.”
“Don’t call her that!” I yell and stand up. The table between us starts to rumble and some silverware floats mere inches from her neck.
People begin to gawk at me. Some cameras begin to flash.
But the music still plays and Doc still looks at me with that same damned smile.
I glance around, put the silverware and table back down, and remove myself from the party.
A.D.
October 11, 2007. 2:47 a.m. I’ve been supervising Sejong with Yuko for the past three hours. I’ve mostly been just exercising and drinking some carrot juice. I know it isn’t healthy to exercise late at night, but I can’t help it. I’m so bored… I haven’t been on a good mission in forever and Yuko’s been super quiet. I wish she would just talk to me about something. Anything. Granted, I haven’t been much better in that department, but what do I say to her? The most we’ve hung out was at the entrance exam and that’s it. Come on… think. Think. Think. There’s gotta be something…
“So… uh… Were you born in Japan or?” Brilliant, A.D.
“Kinda.” Yuko takes a hearty sip of her whisky. I can feel my throat burning just looking at her. “Dad was in the army. Mom’s a fashion designer with a fetish for white dudes. Got plopped out on a military base, so I wasn’t technically born in Japan.”
“Whoa. Huh. That’s weird.” I pour myself another cup of carrot juice, wipe the sweat off of me with a paper towel, and sit back on the couch.
“Yeah, but I have dual citizenship, so that’s cool.”
“That is cool. Super useful too. Do you go back to Japan often?”
“Eh. Kinda? Usually spend the summer there with dad and the rest of the year here with mom.” Yuko picks up a game box and looks at it for a sec before tossing it back onto the coffee table.
“Oooh I see. I’m pretty impressed that your parents can maintain a long distance relationship like that.”
“They’re divorced.”
I take a long sip of carrot juice before nodding. “Yeah. Yep. Probably should have assumed that. Sorry.”
“It’s no biggie. I’ve been over it.”
“Moving on.” I parry that conversation harder than I’ve parried anything else in my life. “Do you like it in Japan more than here? I hear it's a lot cleaner and everyone’s really polite.”
“Pfft.” Yuko starts laughing. “Ah… that’s funny.”
“Did I say something stupid again?” I put the cup down on the coffee table and stretch my arms. I could probably do one more set of sit ups.
“Just a little, don’t worry.”
“Care to elaborate on that?”
“Yeah…” Yuko takes another sip of alcohol. “I’m not really seen as ‘fully’ Japanese.”
“What you mean?” I tilt my head. “You’re bilingual aren’t ya?”
“Yeah, but dude, look at me. I’m six feet, got dyed hair, and I got a thick American accent when I speak Japanese.”
“Ooooh… Yeah, I hear ya.”
“Yeup. Didn’t used to have an accent, but hey that’s what happens.” Yuko yawns and scratches her butt.
“I see… When did you move to the states again?”
“Right after I graduated middle school.”
“Nice. Do you miss your friends back home?”
“Nope. Didn’t really have friends.”
“Oh… I’m sorry. Do you not like Japan?”
“I mean… it’s nice. The streets are clean, people are generally polite. Sometimes too polite, but polite. Virtually no crime and the food’s pretty damn tasty. I think I just got unlucky with the whole haffu thing.”
“I gotcha… Sorry for asking.”
“Nah don’t worry about it.” Yuko waves her hand and rests her head on the coffee table. “You’re like the first one here to ask me about it.”
“So do you like it any better in the states?”
“Ah hell yeah. Everyone’s a haffu here. The music’s way better, the food’s way trashier. The lack of public transport sucks, but everything else about this country was made for me.”
“That’s good to hear.” I nod and begin doing some more stretches.”
“Oh! Wait! Everyone’s way more direct here! If an American’s pissed off, you know immediately. No fake politeness, no being a coward, they just let it all out. Love that crap.”
I bend down and touch my toes. “That is true… though the people here could afford to be a little less aggressive.”
“True, but hey, if people were angels, we’d be out of a job.”
“You’re right.”
“Hey, you mind if I mix some of your carrot juice?” Yuko points to the fridge.
“Uh… sure. Help yourself.” I get on my back and begin doing sit ups.
Yuko goes over to the fridge and mixes herself a drink. Gets some vodka, my carrot juice, a hint of lime, some sugar, and mixes it all together. “What about you? Where are you from?” she asks before taking a sip.
“Iran.”
Yuko looks ready to choke on her drink. She punches her chest and heaves a little before swallowing. “Ack! Ooooh. Sorry man. That suck?”
“It’s… I don’t know, but I haven’t heard good stories.”
“Whatcha mean?” Yuko licks her lips, looks down at her glass, nods, and takes another swig.
“Parents moved here when I was like four” I shrug. “Don’t really remember anything from there. I spent more time living in Chicago than Iran.”
“Chicago?” Yuko purses her lips. “Did you tell them about the planned attack?”
“Way ahead of you.” I smile. “They’ve stored all their valuables in a relative’s house in Wisconsin, took out a huge insurance policy on their house, and are living it up on an Alaskan cruise right now. They’ll be fine.”
“I see.” Yuko smiles. “Anyway, what language do they speak in Iran?”
“Persian typically, but there’s some Kurdish, Lori, Balochi, and a bunch of other stuff I’m forgetting.”
“Ah, that’s cool.” Yuko puts the vodka back in the fridge and pours herself more carrot juice. “You speak any of that?”
“I know enough Kurdish to talk to my dad and can count to ten in Persian, but that’s about it.”
“It’s still something.” Yuko says before downing the whole cup of juice in a single go.
“True.” I finish my set and lie flat on the floor. My abs feel like they’re going to burst open. Feels good, man. “You like that juice?”
“Yeah…” Yuko sounds confused. “It tastes like orange juice, but not as syrupy. Best mixer I’ve had.”
“Glad you think so.” I laugh as I clutch my stomach. “But anyway, my parents are the real linguists. My dad speaks Kurdish, Persian, Arabic, and a little French and English. My Mom speaks English, Persian, Russian, and is working on her Mandarin.”
“Russian?” Yuko pours herself another cup of carrot juice. I’m not even mad. She could use some vitamins in her alcohol stream. “Why’s she know that?”
“She was in Afghanistan in the 80s. Doesn’t really like to talk about it much.”
Yuko downs another cup of juice before leaving the cup on the counter next to all the others. Someone really should clean those. She puts the carrot juice back in the fridge and lies back down on the sofa. “Don’t think I’ll ask about it then.” Yuko spreads her legs out and scratches her tummy. “What about you? How do you like it here?”
“I mean… the government’s not perfect, but it’s a hell of a lot better than the dumpster fire back home. Also, you should have seen the look on my dad’s face the first time he went to an American grocery store. He spent hours just wandering the aisles and reading everything. It looked like he just discovered food.” I chuckle a little. “I still remember him saying ‘Now I understand why Americans are so fat.’ when he was at the checkout line.”
“Oh my god that’s so cute.”
“Yeah…” I smile looking up at the lamp. I kinda feel like a moth just gazing at it.
“So I take it you like it here?”
“Oh, absolutely. The abundance of food, jobs… The people here are so generous too. Not to mention the colleges and medicine. It’s nothing like back in the old country. I’m never leaving. Especially when I hear mom’s horror stories about back home.” I shiver. “I don’t know how she lived.”
“Yeah…” a small smile forms across Yuko’s lips. “Guess we really lucked out…” she yawns again and closes her eyes for a moment. “Anything you don’t like about this place?”
“Well… things kinda sucked for us for about two years after 2001.”
“What happened in 2001?”
“Yuko, c’mon.”
“Oh… yeah…” she avoids looking at me. “My bad.”
“Eh, it’s no biggie. People chilled out now.”
“Yeah…” Yuko begins to nod off. “They always do given enough time…”
“I hope so…” I stand up and go to get some more carrot juice from the fridge.
“Yo, A.D.”
“Yeah?” I open the fridge and peruse the nutritious contents… I wonder what an egg and carrot juice smoothie would taste like… I could get so much nutrients from a single glass.
“Could you watch Sejong for just twenty minutes?” Yuko’s voice begins to trail off. “All that carrot juice is making me sleepy.
“You got it.” I nod and begin to make myself a smoothie. Got some milk, carrot juice, eggs, protein powder, and some non-fat ice cream together.
Yuko lies asleep throughout the whole blending.
I pour the glorious nutrients into a glass, stir it a little more, and watch some egg white remains bubble to the surface. Down the hatch.
Wow… That… is… awful. Awfully delicious.