Lumia
Their meuses rang in unison, marking the end of class. However, Lumia had learned that their meuses ringing for the end of class didn’t mean that the class had actually ended. It took an embarrassing slip up and a subsequent scolding from Educator Arthur on her first day of school to realise that. Today, on her third day, she was getting the hang of things. Wait for the Educator to dismiss the class, stand up, put heart on hand in salute. Only then did class end and the backstabbing of the Educator begin. Lumia tried not to participate.
There was a flow to school life. Morning exercise, breakfast, classes, morning break, classes, lunch, classes, back to their rooms to study some more, supper, and, finally, more study. It was dull, lifeless, but that rhythm made it manageable. A pattern made it easier to adapt; a habit made it easier to fit in. So long as she went with the flow, she wouldn’t stand out all that much.
And towers forbid that Class Euripides stood out any more than what they usually did. They received enough rude stares in the hallways as it was. The last thing Lumia needed was—
As she turned to speak to her classmates, her cheeks reddened. She covered her eyes and twisted to the front so she wouldn’t have to see. “What are you all doing?” she squealed.
Right there in their classroom, her familia was shedding themselves of their clothes. Granted, they were all press against the walled and had their backs to Lumia, but even so… even so!
“What does it look like we’re doing?” said Leo, completely unashamed. “We’re getting changed.”
His stomach and chest were completely bare, which made it very apparent to Lumia how much fitter the average Platonian was compared to her. Raphael, shy Raphael, for the first time since Lumia had met him seemed completely unfazed as he stuffed on a pair of shorts over his underwear.
“But—but,” Lumia stuttered. “Why here? Why are you getting naked in the classroom?”
“We’re not,” Tock giggled. “Look!”
Lumia risked a look through gaps between her fingers. Tock was standing on top of a chair so that the whole world could see her, hands on hips, flashing teeth. She was stripped right down to her plain black underwear. It fitted rather snugly and covered a lot more than Lumia would have thought. Even so, she didn’t want to see! Lumia snapped her fingers shut with a yelp.
“Stop it,” she wailed. “What if someone walks in and sees you? Besides, there are boys in here.”
“But some people exercise in these,” Tock said matter-of-factly. “You can even swim in them.”
Raphael slipped a black cotton T-shirt over his head “We’re getting changed for our physical assessment classes. There’s nothing to be ashamed about. It’s just skin.”
“More exercise!” Lumia shouted. In her disgruntlement her fingers slipped from her eyes and she saw her classmates again. She covered them again and turned away.
Lumia couldn’t make sense of it. They were taking their clothes off. They were exposing themselves to the world. Why were they not embarrassed, or worried about wandering eyes?
“Wait, aren’t you wearing yours?” Tock cried.
“I—I am!” Lumia replied, cheeks somehow going even more pink. “My exohelper laid them out for me this morning so I put them on without much thought. But I didn’t think I’d have to show them to everyone.”
“Ugh, fine,” Tock sighed.
She slipped her T-shirt on and hopped down the elevated rows to Lumia’s position at the front of the room. The shorter girl grabbed Lumia’s arm and yanked her from her desk. This had the unfortunate consequence of removing Lumia’s hand from her eyes and open them in panic, so she could see everyone and everything. She tried to keep her eyes closed, but that caused her to stumble as she couldn’t see where she was walking. Lumia had no choice to keep her eyes on her feet. From the corner of her vision, she saw far too much skin.
“Here’s yours,” Tock said, grabbing a set of sports clothes and running shoes from a shelf at the back of the class and stuffing it into Lumia’s hands. “The bots put them in here when we have Physical Assessment so we can get changed faster.”
Lumia stared at the clothes, then up at Tock. Her jaw was slack. “Wait, I need to get changed here?”
Tock rolled her eyes. “Fine. If you’re going to be a baby.” She snatched Lumia’s hand and dragged her to the door.
Flustered, Lumia followed and said nothing. This whole event was embarrassing enough as it was and she didn’t need to make it worse. On her way out, she glanced back into the corner and saw Morgan. She was hiding in the corner of the room with her back turned to everyone. As she threw her T-shirt on, her body twisted and Lumia caught sight of browned scars on her flanks.
Morgan’s head whipped around and her eyes snapped onto Lumia’s, as though she could sense her staring. The black-haired girl seemed flustered, as though she had just been caught in the act of a crime. Lumia knew she ought to have broken eye contact, to pretend she had seen nothing of importance, but she was completely engrossed in those scars, in the stories they told, the words that Morgan would never speak. It was a story Lumia knew too well.
They walked through the halls in no rush. Lumia felt they ought to have rushed a little more since every pair of eyes was focused on her and the clothes she tried her best to camouflage against her blazer. Tock eventually dropped her hand and they walked in silence, Lumia with her head bowed and trying to make herself small. Thankfully, Tock positioned herself just in front of Lumia, using her body to hide Lumia’s shame.
Tock led her into a bathroom and gestured at a toilet stall. “Hurry or we’ll be late.”
Nodding, Lumia dashed inside the stall and locked it. She hurriedly ripped off her clothes, then took her time to fold them neatly so that they wouldn’t crinkle. She knew the bots would handle that all but, as they used to say in Glassfall, the widest towers took the longest time to fall.
“So, um,” Lumia stuttered. “Is this normal?”
“What is?” Tock asked. There was a dull thump as Tock leaned against the door.
“I mean, aren’t you embarrassed? About having to change in front of everyone.”
“It’s just to get into the clothes. We go back to our room afterwards. It’s just saving time. Besides.” There was a pause. “Nobody thinks about sex and stuff around here. Or maybe they do and they just don’t show it.”
“I don’t believe that,” Lumia said.
“Well, it really is like that. Like, sexual harassment rarely happens. The last time someone was groped on Plato, it caused a scandal that we talked about for a whole year! There was a whole debate about whether the Bulwarks should execute rapists and such. I mean, I don’t like the idea of killing people, but whatever.”
“Then, do you feel safe showing off so much skin?”
“Safe?” Tock almost spat the word. “If anything, I want more attention! My body is pretty much the only thing people like about me, so—I don’t know. Nobody has time for anyone but themselves. I figured that, if I showed off a little more, people might pay more attention to me.”
They were silent for a bit. A question had been plaguing Lumia’s mind all day which she needed to ask. She slipped on her shirt then leaned against the door.
“Tock.”
“Yeah?”
Lumia took a deep breath. “You were a Prospect as well, no?”
“Uh huh.”
“How long did it take you to get used to it?”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
There was a long pause, then Tock answered quietly, so quiet that Lumia almost didn’t hear her. “Never.”
That word hung between them, a noose around their necks. It was the last thing Lumia wanted to hear, that no matter how long she lived here, Plato would never be her home.
There was a shuffle at the door then a bump. Lumia peeked up and saw red curls, tied back and fanned out, above Tock’s smiling eyes. “Come on, there’s nothing wrong with you. What’s there to be embarrassed about?”
“Oh, nothing at all,” Lumia strained for a response. “It’ll take some time, is all.”
“Yup. Time. We’re running out. Let’s go!” Tock leapt down and skipped over to the bathroom door.
It’ll only take some time, Lumia reiterated.
Though she did feel a little guilty about lying to Tock. She would never be able to expose herself to the world. Never, unless she was made to. Even when the Bulwarks had demanded so during her stint in quarantine, Lumia had resisted for as long as possible. She wasn’t sure what she feared. That people would think less of her? That it would dispel the image that she presented to the world which she had worked so hard to cultivate? That they would realise she was far more broken than what a Platonian ought to be?
She tucked her T-shirt into her shorts before she opened the door. That way, even if her shirt leapt up as she ran, there would be no way they’d see the scars that latticed her back.
This was Lumia’s first time visiting a gym. She hadn’t even considered the possibility of an indoor facility dedicated entirely to lifting heavy things and, well, punching people.
That’s what Leo and Raphael were doing right now. Given that today’s lesson involved “sparring”, that meant Lumia would most likely have to do the same. Well, they hadn’t been given any specific lessons on how this sparring should be caried out, only that they were told that, when their name was announced, they had to pick a partner, get in the ring, and spar until time was called.
She glanced to her side and seated beside her on the padded gym floor were Tock, Alan, and Morgan. She would have to fight one of her friends today, and with any luck it would not be Morgan! It wasn’t only the fact that she was strong; Lumia was certain that Morgan did not like her very much. If Lumia’s assessment was correct, then Morgan may use this opportunity to knock her down a level.
Tock, on the other hand, had looked equally as worn out in this morning’s exercise as Lumia felt. Besides, if she were to fight someone, Lumia wanted it to be with someone who she doubted could swing her around like a sling.
The fight was getting intense. Raphael was curled into a ball and covering his head while Leo laid a thousand blows into him. Then, unfurling like a spring, Raphael’s gloved hand whipped out and clocked Leo in the jaw. The brown haired boy didn’t fall, but he took a step back, his legs unsteady. Raphael waited patiently against the ropes, swerving lithely from side to side.
Lumia leaned over to Tock. “Um, why are we fighting each other?”
Tock arched an eyebrow at her. “It’s boxing. It’s a sport.”
In the ring, Leo exhaled sharply, shook his head, then went in for a wild blow. Raphael ducked and it went right over him.
“But why fighting?” Lumia quizzed.
“In order to assess us,” Morgan explained. She sat cross-legged and straight-backed on the soft mat that covered this part of the gym floor. “It allowed the Educators to collect data on our physical condition, which can be used to assess whose physical condition is declining. By ensuring their body is healthy and strong, a Platonian will be in a better condition to employ their talents in helping to save the world. If someone is found to be in that position, they will be put in a stricter training program. Personally, I think that would be shameful.”
Lumia recognised the jab Morgan threw her way but paid it no mind. “But why fighting? Do Platonians regularly get into fights?”
“Nah, hardly.” Tock paused, then her face lit up in realisation. “What happened during the first test was an exception. Don’t think it’s always like that. But this,” she gestured at the ring. “This is a sport from the old world. People used to compete in televised competitions and millions of people used to watch. There aren’t even a million people on Plato! Can you believe that?”
“That is remarkable,” Lumia admitted.
There were certainly less people in Glassfall than in Plato, despite her birthplace being significantly larger. The outskirts of Glassfall stretched on for eons. Countless toppled towers and dilapidated homes dotted straight roads, which were cracked and littered with decay. Some of the braver scouts would climb to the tops of the crumbling towers and claimed they could see the barren lands beyond, but without such a high vantage point, it took a full day and a half from the heart of the dying city to reach the corpse of the outside world.
The fact that, in all that wreckage, there were less people than in the much smaller floating city was simply astounding. They lived on top of each other, in towers which Lumia had been assured were properly inspected and would not fall. It was hard to envision; even harder to imagine that Earth at its peak had reached a population of almost eight billion.
Her attention snapped back to the fight. Another clean hit connected with Leo, this time in the ribs. He let out a strangled gasp, shook it off, then charged forward.
“Do you think he’ll develop dementia?” Lumia choked. Too many hits to the head caused some people’s minds to decay rapidly, according to her psychology textbooks.
“Hardly,” Morgan said. “Not so long as Raphael holds back like that.”
Hearing her, Raphael glanced towards Morgan with a guilty look on his face. Leo was unrelenting and took the opportunity to clock him in the temple, grinning all the while.
Tock got onto her knees and cupped her hands over her mouth. “That was dirty!” she shouted. “Dirty boxing!”
“Good hit, Leo,” Alan said, glancing up a moment from his meus.
Tock whipped around and bore holes into him with her eyes. “How can you support that? It was cheating! Right, Educator?”
She spun to Educator Rousseau who was seated on one side of the ring. However, Educator Rousseau shook her head and said, “If Raphael wants to stop the fight, I’ll allow it. Otherwise, they keep fighting.”
In the ring, it seemed Raphael was too fixated on dodging Leo’s barrage of swipes to bother calling for a timeout.
Growling, Tock faced Morgan. “What about you? You think he cheated, right?”
Morgan huffed. “I am not getting involved in this argument. Who wins and loses does not matter. This is training and nothing more.”
Tock scowled at her before turning to Lumia. “Who do you think should win?”
Lumia’s brows shot up. “Me? I”—she turned to the ring and witnessed Leo and Raphael trade blows to the face. She winced and looked away. “I don’t think there should be a winner or loser.” That’s what she believed, but she knew that it could not be that way. The spirit of competition dictated that someone must fall.
“Time,” Educator Rousseau called. “Tock, you’re next. Chose a sparring partner.”
Leo threw one last blow, grazing Raphael’s chin, and Raphael responded with a slap to the back of the head. They both grinned, tapped gloves, then exited the ring. Lumia plastered a hopeful smile onto her face and stared at Tock, begging to be chosen.
I’ll spar with anyone but Morgan. She’ll break me in two. Okay, maybe Raphael would do the same on accident. He’s so strong! And Leo looked like he was out for blood. It must be Tock.
Only Tock didn’t so much as look her way, instead stubbing Alan’s knee with her toe. “Let’s go! You owe me for helping you on your history test last semester.”
“Ugh,” he groaned, prying himself off the ground. “It’s not a fight so take it easy.”
Soon they were struggling to get up onto the elevated ring. Leo and Raphael sat down on either side of Lumia, panting heavily. Her nose tickled from the double-hit of perspiration and body odour.
Educator Rousseau called for them to touch gloves, which Tock did too violently and Alan hardly at all, then they began. It was a mess. Tock was throwing sloppy hits all over the place and smacking Alan from every which direction. They were nothing like the clean and precise strikes that Raphael was delivering—even Lumia could tell how much better Raphael’s technique was!
The only reason Alan was taking hits was because he didn’t bother to block them. He kept his hands in front of him, in mockery of a guard, so that Tock’s barrage just happened to face no resistance. It seemed painful, but Lumia realised he was barely even flinching. Perhaps Tock’s strikes weren’t that strong. She would have been a fantastic sparring partner. On the other hand…
Lumia leaned forward and glanced at Morgan. The athletic girl watched the “fight” with barely concealed disgust. Lumia swallowed hard.
Oh, she’s going to fight for real. Well, I had a wonderful life, though the last month has been surreal. I wonder if she’ll cry at my burial.
Leo and Raphael cheered them both on. There was no heat in their words. Rather, they pushed them to work harder. Morgan and Lumia both remained quiet. Lumia kept stealing glances at Morgan but was consistently ignored. She figured that Morgan thought the Prospect to be beneath her, not even worth a smile or even a look.
The fight ended with a bang. Tock backed into the ropes then bounced off. She took a couple steps, stretched out her arms, and shouted, “Luchador!” Then she leapt. At the last moment, a look of sheer panic passed across Alan’s face. Tock’s arm swept him in the chest and they both collapsed to the floor in a screaming heap. Scrambling to her knees, Tock raised her gloved fists and yelled, “Victory!” Alan lay still on the ground, groaning.
Leo cheered her. Raphael chuckled and Lumia giggled into her hand. Morgan buried her head in her hands, but the heaving of her shoulders gave away her laughter.
The result, of course, was a shouting match between Tock and Alan. Educator Rousseau stared deadpan at the two, then called for the fight to end.
As soon as Morgan was called, Lumia’s laughter cut off and her heart began to race. Morgan stood and, without looking at Lumia, walked past her and approached a dog-faced exohelper. Someone had decorated the robot in a black tank top bearing the emblem of King’s College. Morgan gave the exohelper her gloves then held her hands before it. The exohelper slipped them on for her.
Finally, she turned to Lumia. “Have you ever boxed before?”
Morgan’s expression was blank so Lumia could not make stone or steel of her thoughts. She answered honestly. “No. In fact, I’ve never fought once in my life.”
The athletic girl nodded. “Then I will use this lesson to teach you. Grab your gloves.”
That was it. No mock, no haughtiness, only a gentle offer to help. Biting her lip, Lumia snatched her gloves from beside her and joined Morgan.
In truth, it was embarrassing. Morgan was effectively belittling her, putting her inadequacies on display. Yet Lumia’s boxing prowess was inadequate, by her own admission. She could hardly blame Morgan for acknowledging that. Besides, Morgan had no obligation to teach her. The strict student could have followed the Educator’s instructions to the letter. She instead chose to take the time to help Lumia develop a new skill.
Lumia allowed a bashful smile to shine through. It seemed her suspicions about Morgan holding a grudge towards her were unfounded, and that, perhaps, she had a long way to go before she could truly understand Platonians.