Earth In Words Institute, Wooded Path
Fighting is easy.
Dodge their attacks, feint and bait and wait for them to step in, then attack for real, faster than they expect.
Sure proof, really…
It was like a nightmare.
Punch after punch striking into empty space, no matter how fast she threw them.
…Train until you’re faster. Train until you’re stronger. Practice until you no longer need to think before moving.
Easy.
…Like fighting a ghost.
Finding her legs unable to move properly, as if paralyzed by shock.
Every breath harder than the next, closer and closer to her limit.
…Punch until you’re the last one standing.
Kick, if you have to.
Easy…
And finally, realizing the boredom in her opponent’s eyes.
Having their expression burned in her memory as she falls.
…However, if fighting is easy, then what separates the great from the mediocre?
Talent?
Effort?
A combination of both?
How to close the gap after having found an opponent who’s stronger…?
“Melinda? Is there something wrong?”
Startled, Melinda raises her head and finds Seijuro glancing over her shoulder at her with a frown on her face.
Seijuro’s clothes are, as always, something worthy of her stature, yet somehow casual looking. Melinda still has no idea how she manages to find the time to come up with so many different outfits, or how she manages to make them all look so good.
Shockingly, a semester of modern fashion did not solve the mystery, and Melinda is starting to wonder if advanced modern fashion will be any different. It doesn’t make sense.
Anyone with as many clothes as she has could do the same. She has a literal warehouse of them.
“You have that look on your face again,” Seijuro continues after another moment walked in silence.
Melinda shrugs, hiding a twinge of embarrassment by averting her eyes toward the flow of students walking the opposite way as they open a wide corridor for their passage.
Well, not for her, exactly, but for Seijuro, whose distant, yet gentle expression seems to suggest a constant worry for the wellbeing of her subjects, the perfect princess.
Still, there’s no mistaking the confidence in her stride for something gentle. Not even once, does it seem to cross the princess’s mind to avoid someone else’s path, and not even once, does her walking speed changes.
From experience, Melinda knows it won’t make a difference how big the crowd she walks through; a thousand, a million, it would still be the same.
“What look?”
From her right, Melinda hears Seijuro’s exaggerated sigh, “This intense look, like you’re a cat about to pounce on a dangling piece of meat, except I’m the piece of meat, and I’ll cave your face in if you ever pounce me without warning.”
Melinda snorts. “A cat? At least make me a tiger or something.”
“Melinda, face it, you’re too cute to be a tiger.”
That draws Melinda’s gaze back to her friend, whom she finds smiling in obvious amusement. “Tigers can be cute.”
“If they’re a cub, maybe. But clearly, you’ve never seen a fully grown tiger up close, if cute is the word coming to your mind. They’re nature’s killing machines.” Seijuro claws the air playfully as she mimics a roar.
Cute.
“I wouldn’t go that far. Humans are nature’s killing machines.”
“You’re… not wrong, I suppose. At least, I know where my credits would be in between you and a tiger inside a cage.”
“That would be animal cruelty,” Melinda points out, ignoring the compliment. From anyone else, it might’ve made her happy. “Things like that still happen, you know?”
Seijuro shrugs. “Abroad? I figure there’s much worse than forced animal fighting beyond our little bubble. Shouldn’t stop us from enjoying a conversation, right?”
The princess smiles, though her dark eyes are heavy and knowing.
“Sorry,” Melinda apologizes while scratching her cheek. “I bet someone already simulated the fight anyway. Me against a tiger… I wonder…”
“I knew it. Fighting maniac.”
“Fuck off! You’re the one who brought it up!”
They both laugh and Melinda realizes her steps are light, light enough for her to smile as she walks with Seijuro; to nod back in response to random greetings from the small stream of students walking by them.
Different from most people here, Melinda didn’t come from a wealthy background, nor is she a noble descendant from one of the big corporations in control of the country. Her family, the Cornells, aren’t from Fioro, they own a small restaurant in one of the smaller cities around it. It was only through her talent and effort that, at eleven, she was accepted into the Institute.
However, such privilege came at a cost, and Melinda was forced to abandon the house she lived her whole life in; her friends, her dojo, and her family.
She cried, she begged, but the decision wasn’t hers. In a new, strange place of people who only saw Melinda for what she was worth, she had to learn to survive early and to cope with the pain in silence.
It was easy, at first, to immerse herself in training, in the idea of showing them all exactly how much she was worth. Had she not met Seijuro at the time, she might still…
“I was thinking about our last spar,” Melinda lies. “Earlier, when you called me.”
“Yeah? What of it?”
“How do you always know what I’m about to do?”
“This again?” Seijuro looks at Melinda with a tired look on her face, then sighs. “Melinda, you’ll never be able to copy my fighting style. We’re just different-”
“Who the fuck said I was trying to copy you?”
Seijuro blinks, surprised by Melinda’s furious glare, then tilts her head.
“I see you’re still obsessed with our so-called ‘rivalry’.”
Is this how it feels to eat a fly whole?
“Yes, Seijuro, I’m still intended on improving my skills and climbing the Fighting rankings,” Melinda retorts, her voice raw, “So I can prove I’m good enough to become one of my best friend’s escorts; So I can stay close and watch over her.”
So I’ll never be alone again.
“It just so happens said best friend currently occupies a position above mine in the rankings! It’d be fucking embarrassing if I were to come out and say with a straight face that I’ll dedicate my life to protecting the queen I’ve never won a fight against!”
Her expression now neutral, Seijuro averts her eyes to stare ahead. “You’re still going on about that? Didn’t I already tell you to drop it? I don’t need a Guard. Elysium is safe, and I’m perfectly capable of defending myself.”
“And what about when you travel abroad? When you’re sleeping? When you’re eating? When you’re shitting?”
“Gods above and below Melinda,” Seijuro murmurs, “You can’t be seriously thinking about this.”
“And what if I am?”
Seijuro stops, so does Melinda, and they stare eye to eye in a manner no different than they might before the beginning of a spar, except Seijuro looks about as pissed as Melinda has ever seen, inside or outside of a ring.
“Do you think I’d be able to live with myself if you died while protecting me?!”
“It’s not your fucking choice!”
“I’ll be the fucking queen! Everything is my choice!”
Melinda smiles tensely, heart beating fast, and Seijuro’s expression suddenly changes as she snaps her burning gaze to those around them, raising her voice once more, “I hear one word about this in the Community, and I will find the source! Scram!”
“There she is. What a lovely princess you are,” Melinda scorns, ignoring the groups of pale students as they bolt in the opposite direction of their standoff.
After a moment, Seijuro’s expression returns to normal, though her gaze remains averted, and she sighs. “Some of us have reputations to preserve. I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
“They’ll still talk.”
“Fuck them.”
For a moment, Melinda watches Seijuro’s body language.
Arms crossed.
Expression guarded.
Melinda clenches her teeth, then sighs, shoulders dropping. “I’m serious about becoming a part of your Guard, Seijuro. I know you don’t like the idea, but I gave it a lot of thought during vacation, and I’ve realized it’s the only way we’ll still see each other after school is over.”
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Seijuro gives Melinda a once-over with the corner of her eyes, then sighs as well. “You’re impossible. Come, walk with me.”
Melinda blinks as she finds herself following Seijuro’s quick steps again.
“It won’t be the same,” the princess says after a moment of walking in silence, “You’ll be my employee, and I’ll be your boss. You’ll have to do what I say.”
Surprised, Melinda snorts. “So that’s what you were worried about?”
“No. I was serious when I said that I couldn’t bear the thought of having someone dying to protect me. I don’t want to ever go through that again.”
“I understand that. And trust me, I have no intention of dying anytime soon, but Seijuro, have you ever wondered how I’d feel if you were the one to die instead?”
Seijuro continues to walk silently as she throws Melinda a dirty stare.
“Why can’t we both just work together to keep each other safe?” Melinda finishes hopefully.
Seijuro averts her eyes. “Fine. But I hope you know that’ll boss you around at every opportunity. It’ll be awful.”
“You do realize you already have the power to boss me around, right?” Melinda points out with a teasing smile, “I mean, even if I don’t work for you directly, I’d still be one of your subjects once you’re crowned.”
“My father will be around for a while still. But I’ll have to form my Guard soon.”
“And you were hoping to play pretend normal-girl for a bit longer.”
“Many would do anything to be in my position.”
Melinda shrugs. “Who cares? You didn’t ask to be born the princess. You can’t give your position away. And you’re probably the best for the job regardless,” Melinda lists while raising her fingers one by one as she meets Seijuro’s gaze. “It’s not your fault they were unlucky.”
“I suppose. Still, the least I can do is take my duty seriously, and a part of taking my duty seriously is admitting my life is more important than that of a commoner,” Seijuro says as she looks at the sky above them, dark eyes reflecting Fioro’s sundown. “More than yours, or Beatrice’s, or Kuro’s.”
“Beatrice’s?”
“Beatrice is… A bit unusual, I’ll admit,” Seijuro murmurs, “But I doubt she’s ill-intended.”
Incredulous, Melinda gives her friend an odd look. “Are we talking about the same Beatrice? The one who has stalked you for more than a year now? The one who’s regularly involved in blackmail and extortion and Gods know what else?”
Seijuro clears her throat softly, breaking off her gaze from the sky as she pretends to cough onto her closed hand. “Yes. I believe she’s… misunderstood. I’d like for you to get along with her from now on, at least on surface level. For the sake of my mental health, if nothing else,” the princess finishes in a murmur.
“Is this because she’s useful to you?”
Seijuro bites her lips, looking unusually conflicted about something. “She is useful… But… Just do it, okay? For me?” she asks while locking eyes.
Melinda sighs. How is she supposed to refuse like this?
“I’ll try, but I’m warning you, the girl gets on my nerves.”
“Noted.”
Then, remembering something, Melinda smiles. “Did you see her face pale when you told her she couldn’t come unless she was going to workout? I’ve never seen someone disappear so fast in my life!”
“Melinda!”
“What, you were the one who did it, am I not allowed to enjoy it if someone else makes fun of her too?!”
***
Advanced Programming Classroom
Her memories started to come back when she was about eight.
Nightmares.
Flashbacks she couldn’t understand.
Questions no one around her seemed to have answers to.
Around nine, she became old enough to understand what an Excavation Site is. By then, she had learned to keep her questions to herself.
But they were still there.
Before going to sleep.
While showering.
At school.
Like a past ghost of herself, screaming something is wrong no matter how perfect things seem to be.
And before she realized it… the screams consumed everything else.
…
Sara opens her eyes to an empty classroom. In front of her, a holographic screen coming from the table itself shows a series of numbers and letters forming an unsolved problem.
Glancing around the small auditorium-like room, Sara realizes she is the only one left; even the professor and the assistant are already gone. Rising from her chair and stretching before starting to pick her things up, Sara tries to avoid feeling betrayed.
You should be used to this by now.
She yawns as she leaves the empty classroom, not bothering to finish the problem; she’ll get shit for it later, she is sure of it, but then again, who cares?
Firstly, “today” started so long ago that it might as well be called this week. She forgot it was the first day of classes, and worse, Isobel remembered to remind her. Despite almost being caught by a bot/enemy hacker (she still isn’t sure which one), she managed to learn almost nothing, again, only to suffer a ten minutes interrogation by the cops about her stupid paper documents, the only ones she can’t fake.
Just another bad day in a long list of bad days.
And let us not forget the fact her breakfast was shit, just like the school’s year opening.
Nevertheless, as much as she wanted it to, her day didn’t end there. Oh no, not even close.
Sneaking out of the auditorium before the end of the princess’s stupid speech was an adventure in and of itself, but her reward for daring it was to meet the last person she would have liked to, her old coach Kay, which bring us to the next, and worse, part of her day.
How could she lose to a newbie on her main game!?
Only thinking about it makes Sara want to stop and hit her head against the closest tree, in the hopes of it fixing itself.
No matter how cute… or charismatic… or how many good reasons he had…
There is no excuse for losing to anyone in Sara’s book.
An image of the stupid snake comes to her mind, making Sara clench her teeth as she walks.
During the rest of class she thought constantly about going back to finish the job, period during which not only was she bothered by the constant questions of her friends in the game about her disappearance, but her classmates started coming up to her in order to ask for their credits back.
How infuriating! Did no one ever tell them about the dangers of gambling!?
What a nightmare…
Sara sighs. At least the latter ones she was able to beat (in-game) until she became satisfied with their apologetic expressions.
And to bring it all to a perfect ending, she slept the final half of her last class and had that stupid dream again.
As she approaches the now almost emptied Institute’s front stairs, there are only two wishes in Sara’s mind.
Eat, and her own bed. It can’t be that hard, right?
But something tells her the attractive foreign boy leaning against the rail and looking unnecessarily cool has other thoughts in mind.
Sighing internally, Sara walks toward Uren who is waving at her.
***
Seijuro wipes her sweat off without stopping her run on the treadmill. Realizing she was asked a question, she glances at Melinda, who is running by her side. “What?”
“I asked how… Was your vacation…” Melinda repeats, “I heard you… Moved to live alone?”
“Yes…” Seijuro answers, slightly out of breath herself.
At this time, the Institute’s gym is at its fullest. Seijuro scans the thoroughly filled large space, looking for known faces and hoping today will be the day she finally manages to finish a workout without being interrupted.
Yeah, fat chance of that for somebody like her.
“So…? Do you like it…?”
“The apartment… is fine. Do we have… to do this now?”
Melinda rolls her eyes. “We are running… Without moving… So…”
Seijuro would have sighed were their circumstances any different.
“And I wasn’t asking… About the apartment… Living on your own can become pretty lonely… Every now and then.”
“Melinda, I’m fine.”
A lack of places to be and people to see isn’t her problem, even during “vacation”. And besides, Kuro is with her most of the time.
“You know… Sometimes… I really wonder if there is a grumpy old lady… Under all of that perfect white skin,” Melinda continues, ignoring Seijuro’s indignant glare, “What I’m trying to say… Is that I wish we could meet up… Outside of school sometimes… I mean… I know you’re busy… Being the princess and all…”
Seijuro feels the other girl trying to find her gaze, though she continues to stare ahead decisively until she hears Melinda sighing in exasperation.
What is she supposed to answer to that?!
Both girls run in silence for a moment, surrounded by the gym’s typical noises and music at low volume, until Seijuro finally musters the courage to ask, slightly awkwardly, “What about… you? Have you visited your… family lately?”
Melinda takes some time to respond, and Seijuro can feel her gaze again.
“I… Yes. I spent a week… In my hometown last month…”
“How were they?”
“They were fine… It’s just…”
Seijuro catches Melinda’s frown with the corner of her eyes, prompting her to raise her eyebrow as she waits in silence.
“Every time I return… Things are more and more different… The past… It can’t be brought back… I barely recognize the city…”
“I see.”
“My parents always receive me with their arms open… But I don’t think they recognize or know who I’m anymore… And every time I get back… I wonder for how long I’ll be gone this time… Or if there’s even going to be a next time… For us.”
“You could always move back… After graduating…”
“It’s too late… I don’t belong… Anymore…”
Seijuro stops, turning off her treadmill so that she can throw Melinda a frustrated gaze. “I don’t know how to help you.”
Melinda stops as well, though she returns Seijuro’s gaze with one of confusion. “Help me? Seijuro, I wasn’t asking for a solution… Sorry, maybe I should’ve been clearer?”
“Forget it. Sometimes I…” Seijuro frowns, then, realizing she’s faced by Melinda’s sympathetic gaze, shakes her head and waves her hand, dismissing the topic. “I’ll set up something outside. Then, you can tell me all about your family and hometown.”
Melinda rolls her eyes, though she smiles while doing it. “Don’t make it sound so formal.”
“Don’t make me regret it.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Melinda swears playfully, open hand over her chest. However, her gaze suddenly grows serious. “But, Seijuro… Are you really okay with this?”
“A date with you? I don’t mind.”
“No, I mean… Please don’t call it a date… I mean, are you okay with how things are going for you?”
Seijuro tilts her head, then averts her eyes as she swipes her gaze throughout the crowded space. “I thought we went over this? My enjoyment is of no consequence. I have a duty to perform.”
“Because I was thinking about what you said earlier, and… I never took you for the type that runs from a fight.”
Seijuro smiles as her gaze snaps back to Melinda’s, ignoring the brief pulse of overflowing fury swarming through her veins as she whispers, “I never run from a fight, there simply isn’t anything or anybody to fight against.”
Melinda shrugs. “If you say so.”
“Which reminds me, you don’t have to worry about the Fighting rankings so much. You’ll surpass me eventually.”
Melinda frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t have nearly as much time to practice as you do. Isn’t it natural you’ll surpass me eventually?”
Melinda pales.
“Also, I’ve only ever achieved rank two, so nobody will question your competence if you finish rank one, regardless of having defeated me or not.”
“Are you serious right now?! Do you really think that’d be satisfied with things ending that like that?!”
“No… I…”
Met with Melinda’s shocked, angry gaze, Seijuro feels a sudden urge to apologize, but the other girl is already moving to begin her workout, leaving her no choice but to follow after and cause a commotion if she wants to.
Seijuro sighs.
What a mess.
***
As Sara approaches, Uren smiles.
“Hey there, sore loser.”
Fuck, she hates him.
Sara hides (ahem, places) her hands in her hoodie’s pocket as she stops in front of him, expression as cold as she manages.
“Excuse me? I’m, in fact, a rather gracious loser.”
Uren laughs, honey eyes shining under the afternoon sunlight. “Is that why you ignored me for the rest of the morning and then ran away when I tried to talk to you during lunch?”
Sara shrugs. “You tried to talk to me? I must’ve missed you.”
Uren pulls himself from the rail and steps forward, bringing them close enough to touch- not that Sara is aware of something like that, mind you. Not at all.
“Really, because I’d have sworn your eyes met mine, across five hundred people. And then, you got up and left, leaving your food untouched.”
Sara narrows her eyes. “I wasn’t hungry.”
“Pasta, salad, and an apple.”
“Stalker.”
Suddenly, a small noise breaks through the tension of their locked stares, and, realizing the source of it, Sara immediately closes her eyes shut in a vain attempt to stop a burst of heat from spreading throughout her cheeks.
Why did he have to mention food, of all things?!
Enough of this.
Sara tries to move past a surprised, mortified-looking Uren, but, to her shock, the boy is quick to descend the Institute’s stairs after her.
“Sara, wait!”
“You know what?! Fuck it, I am a sore loser!” Sara shouts over her shoulder.
“C’mon, give me a chance here! I’m sorry you missed your lunch because of me!”
She also didn’t have the greatest of breakfasts, but he doesn’t need to know that.
‘I’d like to take this chance to remind Miss Palmer to not skip any more meals if she intends to maintain a prolonged state of physical and mental health. Miss Palmer’s recent diet habits have left a lot to desire and it is well known that a lack of-’
“Fuck o-!”
Suddenly, Sara finds herself spinning, then facing wide, honeyed, concerned, shocked eyes.
“Shit,” Uren murmurs, briefly glancing at his steel grip around her arm, then giving Sara an apologetic gaze. “I think you missed a step… I totally grabbed you by reflex.”
Heart racing, Sara finds herself unable to speak for a long moment. Though, once she realizes Uren has no intention of releasing her without some sort of confirmation of the fact she isn’t about to throw herself down the stairs again, Sara clears her throat, blushing.
“You can… let me go now. I’m fine.”
Uren nods, though he still releases her arm carefully, taking a glance toward some of the shocked gazes their fiasco attracted as he does so.
“I think we caused a scene.”
“Don’t worry about it... It was one hundred percent my fault. And… Thank you. I think you might have just saved my life, Uren.”
Honey eyes sparkling in the sunlight, Uren smiles. “How could I have allowed the world to suffer such terrible a loss when fate has put me in the perfect place to stop it?”
“Ha. Ha,” Sara mimics, though a look down the stairwell she almost fell down leaves her extremities cold and her voice humorless. “Those are some reflexes you’ve got there. I think my arm will have marks tomorrow.”
Uren’s smile vanishes while Sara hugs herself, feeling cold and stupid. She is about to apologize to him for her thoughtless comment, when a voice rings out from the top of the staircase, attracting both hers and Uren’s gaze.
“Hey, everything all right there?!”
“I almost fell!” Sara shouts back. “Thank you! We’re all right!”
“Is he bothering you?!”
The fuck?
“No! It’s not like that! Thank you!” Sara repeats, hoping that will be the end of the looks directed in their direction.
“Maybe I should leave,” Uren murmurs, his concern clear in his voice. “I’m sorry for being pushy. In retrospect, it was obvious you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”
Sara frowns. “Fuck, listen, it’s not your fault I ran away like that, I was just… being Sara, I guess, don’t worry about it. I actually enjoy talking to you, I swear.”
Seeing Uren obviously unconvinced as he gives concerned looks toward some of the people still glancing in their direction, Sara frowns.
“Look, have you got something for tonight?”
Uren blinks. “I’m free?”
Sara gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “Cool. Follow me, charming prince.”
Sara descends the Institute stairs without looking back, hands quickly finding her hoodie’s pocket again.
What, in the name of every fucking God out there, is she doing?