Her right ear stung as she leaned over the grey stone outdoor sink and turned on the tap.
You still talk too much, old lady. She slapped water against it and tilted her head.
Her mum's words continued to smoulder against her eardrum and wouldn't budge. Natasha cupped both hands and splashed her face, running her fingers through her jet black, grown out mullet. Africa was a lot warmer than England and she almost enjoyed being able to break a sweat without moving. She didn't appreciate the various scents – baking iron, animal dung, excess testosterone – that formed a thick layer over everything, including the lining of her nostrils.
It almost blocked out the smell of the threat before it passed in front of her in the form of four older guys surrounding a smaller Asian boy. She recognised the one with his arm around the latter's shoulders. Allen Barajas from America. Their match the day before had been a tough one but he liked to act bigger than his muscles. It had been extra satisfying to target his lack of speed and weak points right up until the end. He was the kind that would ambush an opponent to get revenge but he didn't see her by the sink as he held onto his victim's furthest shoulder.
Oh hell no. She smiled wolfishly and followed them to the secluded side of the nearest building, rolling up the sleeves of her black standard issue uniform. Not on my watch.
She recognised the Asian boy too but couldn't remember his name. He was in the same bracket as the rest of her team but looked several years too young to be there. He couldn't have been older than fifteen. Although he kept his gaze lowered, he didn't look afraid but that didn't mean anything. People on his side of the world were a lot more disciplined than they were on hers. For all she knew, he could have been seconds away from wetting himself.
He hasn't been eliminated from the tournament yet though. Guess he won't drag me down too much if it comes to that.
They pushed him into the metal fence that marked the perimeter of the dorms and kept the competitors caged in. The younger boy steadied himself against the metal links and turned to face them but the distance blurred his expression. Allen slammed a palm on the metal beside his head and the fence rattled.
“I dunno know what your mum and dad were thinkin' but this isn't a championship for kids, you know,” he said.
“I know,” said the Asian boy.
Black strands of hair impaired her view of his upper face and black headband but she could tell his eyes were still downcast. She sped up, her heart beat escalating accordingly.
“Hey, he actually does speak English!” exclaimed one of the others, a boy wearing a deep green body warmer. He tapped another boy with ginger hair peeking out from under his cap. “You owe me five dollars.”
“So you're here because –?” Allen ignored them and placed his other hand against the fence in line with the first.
Leaving both sides wide open. Natasha grinned and broke into a light jog. What an idiot.
“Because I want to be,” said the Asian boy. His fingers curled around the older boy's left arm. “I have to return to my room. Can you please move?”
“Hey, look, I don't pick on kids. I'm only doin' this for your own good.” The annoying sneer in Allen's voice poked Natasha in exactly the wrong place. “So why don't you jump on a plane and fly back to wherever you came from, yeah?”
“I've got no reason to do that,” said the younger one. The closer she got to them, the less afraid he seemed. “Please move away from me.”
Stop being so polite, kid. It never helps.
“I can give you a reason if you want.” Allen suddenly pulled his arm free and rotated it in a familiar shoulder warm up. A wordless intimidation attempt. “What do you think?”
“I think you should step back,” said his would be victim.
The rest of the boys noticed her several seconds too late to warn their leader. Here we go. She crashed into his right and tackled him to the ground. He swore airlessly and wriggled onto his back.
“What the –?” He found her face. “You –?”
“Hallo there,” she purred, punching the confusion off his features. Left, right, and left again until someone grabbed her wrist. She tried to flip them over her shoulder but they didn't budge. What the – is it the chubby one? She nearly choked on air when she realised it was the Asian boy. “The hell are you doing, kid?”
“You can stop now.” Alarm flashed through his slanted eyes and he pulled her backwards.
A foot whistled past her face seconds after she relinquished her hold on the floored teenager. She didn't have time to snap at him as the boy with the body warmer tried to catch her with a tornado kick. The Asian boy let go of her to catch the offending foot in a tight ankle lock, using it to overbalance and push the other back. Body-warmer hopped out of range but grimaced at his foot met the ground.
“You his girlfriend?” Allen recovered from her tackle and subsequent blows, wobbling as he got back up and raised his fists.
“Nope. I'm the girl who kicked your butt yesterday,” she said, extending both hands as if she were about to tickle him. “Is it still purple?”
“Screw you, bi-” He sidestepped as she lunged for his face. His triumphant grin melted as her other fist slammed into his kidney on the opposite side. “Argh!”
“You wouldn't be so lucky, mother fu-” She darted back as the ginger haired boy rushed in from her right and aimed a punch at her temple.
She ducked and he knocked out the chubby boy who tried to grapple her from the left. Sweating a little, she rolled sideways and grabbed the Asian boy by the long sleeve of his deep blue hanfu.
“Get out of here,” she said, half-straightening up again. “You've got enough time to grow into a real man. Just send security this way if you see them on your way out.”
Thanks to him, it shouldn't be hard to take out Mr Kicky's bad ankle. He doesn't need to see what I'm going to do to the others.
“We shouldn't have to call them.” He stepped forward to stand beside her and held a palm out towards Body-warmer who stopped mid punch. Even he didn't seem to fully understand why. “We shouldn't fight outside our matches. If we all keep winning, we'll get the chance to face each other eventually.”
His English is better than I thought. Even though he's dressed like that. The inner lining of his hanfu was sky blue and a silver Kung fu-like sash separated it from his black Wushu-style trousers. She shook her head. But he's still a kid.
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“Look, I'm all down for that,” she agreed, pointing at their opponents. “But these guys started it and they're not going to stop until we've finished it.”
“I hate to say it but she's right,” said Allen. After being tackled and receiving three shots to the face and one to the kidney, he didn't seem as cocky as he had been. “We already gave you a chance to fly out of here and I've got to wipe the floor with this cow before she starts thinking she can actually fight.”
“I fight better than you, loser.” She smirked. “Don't forget the important parts.”
“You can settle it in the ring,” said the Asian boy. “Why not wait until then?”
He sounded like they were a bunch of kids quarrelling about who won the last Beyblade game.
“Because I don't want to.” The older teenager's teeth showed in a pained grin and Natasha adjusted her stance.
He's going to try something while the kid's talking – The other three fanned out around them as if they had been ordered to out loud. One moved to block their escape and the other two flanked their leader. – or they will. He should've just run when I told him to.
“I see.” Something changed in the youngest one's voice. Suddenly he didn't sound like a naïve kid who believed that everyone played by the rules and all problems could be solved during a monitored match. “I didn't come here to be disqualified.”
“Yeah? Then what're doing you here?” asked Allen. “Skipping school?”
“Winning.” The boy's expression stiffened as though it were a frozen pond. Natasha swallowed and stopped herself from instinctively backing away as he too changed his stance. He slid one foot back and raised both fists just below eye level. “I'm sorry if you came here to do the same.”
“What's this little brat on about?” Allen threw a punch at him mid-laugh.
He diverted the blow with his forearm and opened up the older boy's front, stepping forward to sink his left fist into his stomach. Allen gasped and spit flecked Natasha's hastily raised arm. She grimaced even as she appreciated the boy's fluid transition from defence to attack. He's going to feel that tomorrow. The taller teen flew backwards and crashed into the ground several steps away. Oh shi-
“Hey, are you okay?” The other boys gathered around him as he coughed and rolled onto his side, red faced and gasping for air.
The Asian boy touched the knuckles of left hand to the palm of his right and bowed lightly in Allen's direction.
“I'll see you again in the ring. Until then, please stay away from me.” Natasha stepped back involuntarily as he offered her a deeper bow. “Thank you for your help. I'll return the favour one day.”
Who even talks like that these days?
“You can return it now.” She closed one eye as he raised his head and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Have lunch with my team. They're going to want to meet you after I tell them about this.”
“Actually, I'd prefer it if you didn't tell anyone else about this.” His brief uncertainty stripped some of the maturity from his features. “And I've had lunch.”
“Then have a drink.” She paused in the middle of walking away as he hesitated. “What do you like? Green tea?”
In her mind, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Latoya told her off for not giving him a chance to breathe and refuse. Why would I? I don't want him to. His gaze wandered towards Allen, who finally managed to sit up and seemed on the verge anguished tears. His mates instantly avoided the younger boy's eyes and crowded around their fallen leader.
“Ginger.” His dark brown eyes returned to hers as he caught up with her. “I'll have ginger tea then.”
“The hell?” She hooked her thumbs in the pockets of her trousers so she wouldn't pull one of his pudgy cheeks by accident. “What are you? Some old monk in a kid's body?”
He looked away but a small smile loosened his taut features. “Ginger tea is good for you.”
“So is avocado but if you tried to make me eat that mushy crap, I'd kill you.”
“That's unfortunate.” He straightened his clothes but couldn't rearrange his features well enough to hide his widening smile.
“Not as unfortunate as that guy back there.” She grinned. “He's going to need a whole new stomach after that.”
His amusement vanished at once. “I hope he doesn't.”
“Why?” She considered squishing his face between her hands to bring it back but enjoyed eating too much. “It'd serve him right.”
“Maybe,” he murmured. “But I still hope he doesn't.”
You're too nice, kid. Some people in this world really aren't worth it.
She ignored the voice that told her she was one of them. This one didn't sound like Latoya.
<><><><><>
“Wait, you mean your name's not Lala?” The little girl walking behind her sounded scandalised.
“Nope.” Latoya had already called the medics and chosen to escort the women to her room too, even though Natasha had insisted she didn't need help. “We all use fake names during operations.”
Like it really makes a difference. Natasha opened the door to her room and closed her laptop before any of them could see the map pinpointing several hotels on her screen. It's not like we give anyone time to ask before we take them out.
“I thought it was kind of weird.” Careful mischief danced across Melissa's face. “So what's your real name?”
“I can't tell you yet, babes.” Latoya gestured at herself and Natasha as the strangers filled her room. “Not until Dee's given us the all clear.”
“If he does,” said Natasha, leaning back on her desk with her hands pressed against the metal surface behind her.
“I'm sure he will.” Latoya's reassuring smile didn't reach her eyes as they connected with hers.
“I wouldn't be so sure if I were you.” She nodded at the half open door. “We still don't know exactly what happened with Sinja.”
“He was attacked –”
“By who?” Though she didn't look directly at the therapist, the other woman stiffened and tried not to glance at her, failing miserably. “And how?”
“I'll tell your captain everything,” she said to break the sudden, expectant silence.
Guilty.
“What's wrong?” The tension in the room thickened and brushed shoulders with Natasha like an old comrade. “You can't tell me too?”
“I could but then I'd have to repeat the story all over again.” The therapist smiled as if she wanted to stick a pen through Natasha's hand. “What would be the point of that?”
“Story? That's an interesting word to choose, all things considered.” She tilted her head to the right and one corner of her mouth curled up. “The point is you've got nothing else to do while we wait for Dee so you might as well share this story of yours. Is that a problem?”
“I don't hearing things on repeat, myself included.” The other woman spread her arms out in a weak display of confidence. Her hands quickly flitted back to perch on her rounded hips. “I work in a clinic so it's part of my job. But I prefer to keep it separate from my personal life.”
“Is that what you did with Sinja?” For some reason, the girl seemed hurt by the therapist's words. Her expression dulled like an overused blade. “Doesn't seem like it, seeing as you're here and not back at your clinic.”
“He's my patient.” The latter's hands slid down her clothes as if she suddenly needed to dry them. “I'm here because I'm worried about him.”
“Worried? I see.” Natasha refused to acknowledge any of Latoya's urgent eye signals. “I hate to break it to you, chicky, but we've known Sinja a lot longer. He's safe with us.”
“My name is Judy and I'll need to speak to Dee before I decide whether I believe you're all telling the truth or not,” said the therapist slowly. “I've known Spy for a while too”
“Yeah? Then you should know that the only way someone could put him down like that is if he didn't expecting them to.” Natasha rubbed her nails against the desk and her voice deepened. “And the only time he wouldn't expect an attack is if he feels he's safe.”
Judy gulped as if she had accidentally swallowed everything she had been about to say. Traitor.
“Tasha …” Latoya gave up trying to communicate non verbally.
“Did you make him feel safe in your clinic, Judy?” The humour dropped from Natasha's face and all three outsiders winced as if smashed like glass on the floor between them.
Why did Des let any of them in here?
“Tash, they should wash up and eat something first.” Latoya stepped between her and them, features tight with a disapproval yet eyes awash with sympathy she didn't need. “They've been on the road for hours.”
“Not everyone's as invested in food as you, big thing.” She bumped the back of her fist against the other woman's protruding stomach, then gestured at their unwelcome guests. “Look at the size of them.”
“Exactly. They could probably do with some meat on their bones, right? My mamma would've turned over in her grave if she saw the stuff you white people call meals.” Latoya shook her head but that knowing softness lingered on her face. She waved at the other three with both hands. “Sorry. I'm not racist but I never have been and never will be a rabbit food kind of beauty.”
“That's because you're a beast.” Natasha's eyes found Judy's and she smiled as the latter forced herself to hold her stare.
“Rabbit food won't make a beast out of anyone,” said Latoya, pointing at Melissa's tote bag. “Let's go to the canteen. You can leave your stuff here, babes.”
“I'm sure Dee would rather not have them wandering around.” Natasha walked past her friend without breaking eye contact with Judy. “I guess I can play dinner lady today.”
“That's not something I ever thought I'd hear.” Latoya stifled a giggle and followed her out of the room. “But you do you, babes.”
“Sure.” What's she doing? She needs to make sure they don't touch my stuff.
“Tasha?” The taller woman closed the door and lowered her voice, waiting until Natasha looked at her. “Sinja's going to be okay.”
“I know.” Under Latoya's concerned gaze, she knew her crooked smile was tracing paper thin but wore it anyway.
“So try not to worry about him too much, all right?”
“Hey, if you're feeling broody, go mollycoddle one of the babies in there.” She pointed towards her room. “You can even take your pick.”
“Yes, ma'am.” Latoya laughed and saluted her but didn't look away until the door closed between them once again.
Natasha headed for canteen, pretended she wasn't going to deviate from her original route, and ended up in front of Sinastar's temporary room several minutes later. I'm just checking up on him. I don't even need to go in. She reached for the door handle but it turned from the inside. Ken halted mid step and a rare expression of shock flitted across his face.
“What're you doing?” The question shot out before she could scrape the suspicion off its edges. Dread stole the air from her voice as her gaze slipped into the room beyond him. “Did something happen?”