One week has passed since Andrew awoke within the strange metal room, and for him much has changed. The first and most important change was him regaining his own autonomy, at least for the most part. As Doctor Thast had briefed him a few days after waking up, he wasn’t fully acclimated to his newly regenerated body and would suffer some slight motor function troubles, but with some time his brain would fully map his regrown nerve endings and come to recognize it as his own body in due time. The simple cure-all was time and exercise, two things that made Andrew slightly annoyed putting up with but were nonissues now that he was finally allowed some freedom to roam the hospital halls.
The second development was the things he was able to see and do now that his legs could take him places. At first he merely explored his room with the assistance of Trina, inspecting all of the hidden features that made his room a fully functional house on its own. Once he was able to move about with only a pair of crutches he was granted access to the halls, which were always filled with a marching line of Trinas going from room to room, checking on patients and carrying meals to them with the same uncharismatic smile. The building was more of the same as his room: bland gray walls, blue floors of varying shades, and bright lights that made his eyes sting looking at them. It wasn’t until he wandered a fair distance from his room that he finally found a window to look out of, the view of which took his breath away.
Blue skies, white fluffy clouds, and great silver spires that rose to touch them like colossal metal fingers. Small dots of chrome drifted through the sky all around the futuristic city outside, no doubt some kind of drones or hovercrafts, as bright flashy billboards flew through the air on their own like confetti. The whole scene of a bustling, lively city that shimmered and changed colors was wreathed by a sea of green grass and lush forests, as if the grand innovations of man had simply pierced through the ground in the middle of an ancient forest. He wondered where on Earth he was, given how he had never seen a forest so magnificent or a range of flat mountains capped with snow.
Lastly, the third major development in his week of recovery was being given his own smart device, similar but not entirely like a smartphone in many ways, that was able to adhere to any surface regardless of material and be recalled by the one linked to it. Although he had only just begun to use it and explore its features, he was encouraged just by having something that he understood the functions of and could pass his resting hours with. Already it had helped him learn the date, the year, and the day that would begin his first day of what William had called advanced physical therapy. It would begin the next day, Monday, the fifteenth of November, thirty-eight-nineteen (15/11/3819).
The next morning, Trina awoke him with a gentle nudge. “Andrew, the doctor requests your presence in the rehabilitation center. Please follow me.” She made her request in that same thick accent of hers, hiding away the soft sounds of her words and giving them a rough sound.
Andrew groaned and pinched his eyes towards the bridge of his nose, hissing through his teeth as the glaring lights responded to his awakening by hitting him with a harsh beam of unforgiving shine. “Alright, shit, I’m getting up! Ugh, can you dim the lights? I can’t see.”
His request was met after a moment of delay, but not before he had already pushed himself up and moved to the foot of the bed. He ignored the fact that the lights had taken so long to dim and instead just left the bed, grabbing his crutches and turning to the robotic lady who would lead him to where he needed to go. “Alright, I’m good to go.”
He hobbled after her as she went through the portal to the hallway, followed her as she took a left, a right, two more lefts, and another right in order to guide him to their destination. Andrew noticed along the way that some of the Trinas were now standing idly by the doorways to some of the rooms, an unnervingly remorseful look on their faces with their eyes completely blank. Their lifeless state made him uneasy as he followed the active Trina towards a set of doors that were distinct from the others, as they were square, had a detailed frame around them, and were thick like some kind of bulkhead.
Trina led him to the doors and stepped to one side, gesturing to the door before him invitingly. “The doctor is inside, along with your fellow patients. Please enter and begin physical rehabilitation.” She then blinked once and began to droop slightly, becoming a mirror of all of the deactivated copies they had passed along the way.
With no real option to pry further, and a gnawing sense of curiosity eating away at him, he staggered forwards to the door until he passed some kind of threshold where a sensor could see him and unlock the metal doorway. As the doors opened, he was able to make out many details of the place he was entering just at a glance as it was almost like a gymnasium. Sleek white floors with red dots and lines to show a court and a track, a row of stands that came out from the very wall to offer dozens of seats for those gathered, and visible marking along the walls and ceiling that would undoubtedly dispense some form of equipment like the features his room was capable of providing him with.
He let his eyes roam the room for a moment before he realized that he was not alone in this chamber, and in fact he was now the object of everyone’s focus. Seated on the bleachers were two dozen or more people of every size, shape, and varied nationalities giving him looks of annoyance or concern as he shuffled towards them. Each of them wore one of the seamless hospital gowns like he did, their forms hidden by the knee-length hem of the long,clinical sheets of cloth.
Andrew was able to pick out a few that looked unique compared to a majority of the others. One of them was a man of obvious Asian descent, perhaps Japanese given the knot of hair kept atop his head and the thinly trimmed facial hair that gave him a strong appearance, who stared at the others around him with mild disinterest. Another was a rather fidgety girl with bubblegum pink hair, a tattoo of a rose on her cheek, and a scar on her forehead that gave the impression that she had been shot recently. Another was a woman with short fiery red hair and a depressed look on her face, who sat off to one side with her arms crossed over her chest. Then finally, the most jarring of all was a large bearded man with fierce eyes and sun-darkened skin, his body a wall of thick muscles that stretched his patient gown around his barrel sized chest. Sure, there were plenty of others in the group that stood out or had noticeably distinct features, but these people had an air about them that made him keep his guard up.
At the front of the collective was none other than the doctor, who stood in his usual hunched stance as he popped a few more pills into his mouth. He cast a sedated yet joyful smile towards the newcomer, sticking his thumbs into the loop of his pants as he began to speak. “Alright, that’s everyone. Andrew, if you would kindly take a seat…thank you. So, hello everyone, you all know me already: Doctor William Thast, or just Will for short. Welcome to your first day of physical rehab. Now is when I’ll go over things like ground rules, the purpose and process of this program, and also the different ways this program ends. Afterwards, we will begin session one. Let’s get started.”
Will then snapped his fingers to make a solid white panel appear from the wall and hover over towards him, like a holographic whiteboard already listing the rules on it. He extended his hand and pointed to them from top to bottom, listing each one with a tired smile. “Rule number one: no skipping out on rehab. I know most of you would like to stay holed up in your rooms, poke at the tv and watch the news, and just avoid working out, but your bodies need exercise before you can be discharged. Rule two: no fighting. There might be some exceptions to this rule, such as sparring matches or some activities that get hands-on, but trying to start something outside of those specified events will end with the culprit going into private rehab with Miss Trina, which is not as good as that sounds. Trust me, a machine doesn’t know what it means to be exhausted, so you will just suffer. Third rule: no stealing or smuggling. I know you might like some of the fun gadgets from the gym, but they stay here. Same goes for everything in the halls, the cafeteria, and any other rooms you can access. If it isn’t yours, don’t take it, it’s that simple. Anyways, that’s about it. Questions?”
The room was silent for a moment until a person from the crowd stood up, and a shy woman with braided hair spoke up in a rich Spanish accent. “When can we go home?”
The doctor looked at her with an unwavering smirk, leaning from one hip to the other and pointing his finger at her with a snap. “Great question, Gabriela, and one that is probably on everyone’s minds. As I told you all before, sending you back to your times is no problem, but in your current state you wouldn’t do very well when you got back. To put it into perspective, Gabriela, you’re from Spain in the twelve-hundreds, and at the time that you were brought here you were drowned when your grandfather’s boat sank.If you were to go back right now, sent back to the night of your disappearance in the state you are in currently, you would not survive. You see folks, this is because time travel is a highly traumatic experience for the human body. You will arrive in one piece, but the friction of transposing your molecules back to your original time along with the energy currents you have to ride will leave you exhausted and on the brink of collapse. That is usually why when we send you back we give you the neurally implanted story of being visited by aliens or going into the fairy woods, so that when people find you they have some form of story to latch onto. There’s a hundred reasons why we do things this way, but priority one is your safe return.”
Gabriela blinked at him a few times, teetering between sitting back down and confirming what the answer to her question was. “So… we can go home once we are… strong enough?”
“Exactly right.” William declared, clapping his hands a single time that made the woman flinch. “Once you’re healed and in peak physical shape we can send you back, but to do that you’d need to complete your sessions here until I can personally verify that you’ll be able to pass through time without dematerializing or losing all cognitive functions.”
Another person stood up as Gabriela sat down, a dark man with wary eyes and thick band-like scars around his neck and wrists who pointed at William accusingly. “And what if we don’t want to fight in your war, but we also don’t want to go back to our time? You gonna just send us away?”
William wore a deeply sorrowful expression at the man who had spoken up, crossing his arms and sighing softly. “Another fine question, and one particularly of interest to you, John. Thank you. I will state it here for all of you to hear: no, we will not discard, dispose of, or even dismiss those brought here, even if they decline the call to arms. The people of my time are in need of every kind of citizen, of every kind of person. We are at war, yes, but carrying arms is not the only way to contribute. Working hands, skilled hands, wise hands, calm hands, all of them can contribute, and all will be paid as equal members of employ, not as slaves to be branded and extorted. Do you understand that, John?” He had a brow raised at the man in question, his face still holding onto a calm, compassionate look.
John pursed his lips and stared at the doctor for a long moment, then with a simple nod he sat back down and put his hands together as if he were praying. The room was silent for a moment, until the thickly muscled man with the menacing expression straightened his back and tilted his head at the doctor with a wicked smile. “Mister, may I ask how it is that we can speak of the same language? It is strange that a man of Bretagne can converse with the men of East and West, no?”
Unlike with the other patients in the room, William appeared to be annoyed by the question and tapped his foot impatiently as he answered. “A good question, though I am disappointed that you are asking me for the nineteenth time and you still don’t understand my answer, Antoine. For those who haven’t asked the same question repeatedly, there is a tiny piece of special metal inside of your head that makes every word you hear sound like your own language, and even makes it look like they’re speaking your language. I am speaking my own language. Antoine is speaking his language. Gabriela and John spoke their own languages, yet all of you heard it as your own. It is a special metal that is hard to make, and it can be removed very easily by a trained professional. It will not harm you, and it is not worth a lot of money.”
The doctor’s last statement seemed directly targeted at Antoine himself, who sneered and leaned back in his seat with a laugh. Some looks of concern and confusion were shared amongst the gathered patients, but when no one asked any more questions for a while it became clear that there wasn’t anything pressing on their minds.Will took in a breath of air and turned to his floating screen, his hand reaching for the board when he heard a voice behind him.
“Wait.” Spoke the redheaded woman, her once sorrowful eyes now filled with hope. Now that she had stood up, it was clear to everyone around that her cascade of messy hair had been hiding a series of swirling marks on her skin that covered her arms and right cheek. “The people of the future are strong. If I go home, I will take strong weapons with me. The Gaul fight invaders. We need weapons. Healer should give the weapons to us.”
The doctor didn’t turn around before someone next to her spoke up. They were a short and thin woman, with large glasses and straight hair hanging down her back. “That’s absurd. You want to take weapons from the future into the past? That’s insane, and terribly reckless. What if you trying to change the past causes a paradox or something? Besides, the Celtic tribes were actually able to adapt over time and become a part of Roman rule and persist even to modern times.”
The red haired woman stared in utter silence, her hands curling into balled fists. From behind her came a jeering laugh from a man with slicked back hair and a lean form beneath his gown. “Lady, you’re barking up the wrong tree, asking for a piece from these clowns. What kinda bozo would trust a broad with a heater anyhow? And the Hell is a Gaul anyway, some kind of book club? Jeez, it’s like this future stuff has turned the whole world kookie, ya dig? Things would be cool and smooth if everyone rolled like my boys in the Blue Wheelers.”
The redhead in between them glanced from one to the other, then stared at William for an answer he did not provide. Then, with a sudden shift she became hostile with a feral roar. The first one hit was the bookish girl, a fist planting itself into one of her cheeks that sent her tumbling off to the side. The greaser was next, and before he could raise his hands to defend himself he was knocked to the ground by a gut punch. A slightly round man in front of her tried to stand and make a statement in a blustering voice, but a shove caused him to tumble over and clear a path. Her eyes turned on William, who stood there unfazed by her animosity, and she lunged at him.
There was a flash, a crackle, and all at once the scene became still with the warrior woman falling face first on the ground. Though most were confused by what had happened, the quiet man who looked like a samurai squinted at the cannon that had deployed from the ceiling to diffuse the situation. With a flip of its gun it was gone, leaving the shocked crowd staring down at the would-be attacker as she twitched on the ground. William frowned and sighed, kneeling beside her to place his fingers on her neck for a pulse. He nodded and rose to his feet moments before six Trinas rushed in and formed a line in front of the door.
“Trina, take our unruly patient back to her room, please. Ensure her access to the halls is limited without your supervision, for her own safety. Thank you.” His orders were received and carried out in a fraction of a second, the coppery haired warrior vanishing into the arms of the androids as she was spirited away. William turned to look at the group, taking out his pills and popping another trio. “My apologies, her outburst is not the first, but with some luck it might be her last. Now, were there any more questions?”
Silence hung in the air, and all eyes were on the man in the labcoat. He clicked his tongue before looking back to his screen, his finger drawing on the board like a marker. “That’s fine, we’re almost done anyways. We’ve covered the rules, and inadvertently gone over exactly why rehab is important, so let’s move on to how this ends. Like I said before, everyone has to reach a point in which I deem them viable for time-jumping before they are allowed to go back, but this also applies for those who wish to stay as well. The reason for this is rather simple: those who are able to endure the strain of time jumping are strong enough to either move into a civilian lifestyle, or move on to basic training for military service. Or, to simplify, it means that you’re healthy enough to leave this hospital, period.” He tapped his finger into the screen to punctuate his words after writing down the three ways they could leave the hospital: The past, as civilians, or as soldiers.
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Many of the patients looked at the board silently, not wanting to drag things on any longer. Andrew felt the same way, as the questions and disputes had only made him a bit anxious. His mind had been filled with worries, such as being left behind or being singled out due to him being the only one with crutches. He could see the small peeks people were taking of him, and he knew they were all thinking the same thing as he was. He was sure that while everyone else was progressing along to the point of leaving, he was going to be struggling on his crutches just to relearn walking.
Despite this, he wasn’t feeling disheartened just yet. Perhaps it was just misplaced confidence, but he felt as though he wasn’t going to be left behind at all. He’d been turned into a roadside pancake and was glued back together, and it seemed to him as though most of the people in this rehab group didn’t quite grasp things as well as he did. It was a classic underdog story, where the odds were stacked against him but he had an ace up his sleeve. He was sure that no matter what, he’d be back in peak condition in no time.
Doctor Will had just finished writing down one more line beneath all of the others, stepping back to unveil it. He pointed to the last line with a smile, leaning his tall body forward to hold his arm at a perfect ninety degree angle. “Alright, so with all of that out of the way, we can go to rehab day one’s special activity: swimming!”
A pit formed in Andrew’s stomach right away, and his face became stone-like as he stared at the little cartoon stick figure protruding from the blue squiggly line Will had drawn. Swimming was one thing that Andrew was almost entirely incapable of doing. He’d gone to the ocean, to pools, to lake and rivers, but no matter what he would always just sink to the bottom like he was made of lead. He pursed his lips and stared with serious eyes at the doctor, hoping this was a joke.
William raised a hand and snapped his fingers, causing the floor behind him to slither away like a startled serpent. Where it once was a fake wooden floor was now a pool of shimmering blue water, complete with little ladders, a deep end, and even some floatation devices that plopped into the water as if they’d been tossed in by invisible hands. Andrew began to shiver as he looked at the pool, all of his terrible memories of near-death encounters at water parks and public pools resurfacing alongside his actual death in that dark river all at once. He felt like he was about to puke, though the others didn’t seem nearly as bothered or even as hesitant.
One at a time they approached the pool, either kneeling by it or tentatively touching it with their toes and hands to ensure it was safe. The girl with the straight hair, the same one who had been punched and was now cradling a red cheek, meekly approached the doctor to tug at his sleeve with a question. “Um… do we get any sort of bathing suits or swimming equipment? These gowns are pleasant to wear, but I would rather not have them drifting in the water and possibly… erm… showing too much.” She grumbled her last words, adjusting her glasses and averting her eyes with a blush.
William gave a soft chuckle, reached into his pocket, then with a spray from a chrome canister to the girl’s cheek he gave an answer. “Your clothes are semi-adaptable, Leslie. Simply enter the water and they will change into a less revealing outfit. It might look a bit ugly, but it’s a handy little garment, wouldn’t you say?” His words were laced with that subtle tone of mischief as usual, though the glasses wearing girl didn’t seem to have a response due to her face miraculously healing. She rubbed at her cheek and let out a gasp as the redness faded away, leaving her slack jawed in awe at the futuristic remedy that had so effortlessly fixed her recent injury.
She was about to offer her thanks when a loud splash came from the pool, followed by the boisterous laughter of Antoine as he dove and resurfaced with glee. He acted as though he were in his element, his messy hair clinging to his head and shoulders as he stood up in the shallow end with a triumphant holler. His outburst, whether it was intended to do so, helped to demonstrate the self-correcting form of the patient garbs as he stood there boasting. The open bottomed gown had closed in around him, forming a tight suit with leg holes just above his knees. The strange man, in his strange suit, continued to cheerfully tread through the water as if it were his natural state of being.
The other patients, encouraged by the rather joyous outburst of the first in the water, began to get into the water one by one as William encouraged them in. The whole group was in the water, everyone except Andrew and the stoic man with the topknot. The doctor did a head count of those in front of him before turning back, and with a slight frown he scratched the back of his head. “Hey, come on, this is day one’s activity and I specifically picked one all of you could enjoy. Don’t sit there and frown, get in!” He encouraged, beckoning them forth.
Neither of them moved, but the stern man dismissed the invitation with a wave. “I have died once while in the river. I shall pass.” He stated, completely closing off the conversation.
Andrew took in a deep breath, shaking his head from side to side. “Same as him. Me and water aren’t friends.”
William, unfortunately, didn’t seem to be convinced nor swayed. “Oh come on, I know that both of you are just being awkward. First off, Tora, you didn’t die in a river, you got shot in the back and fell into a river, so no drowning even happened. Andrew, the same goes for you, you got hit by a truck and were dead before you hit the water. I’d be more sympathetic if this was a casual get together, but it’s not. Get in the water, or Trina will politely escort you into the water.” There was a hint of annoyance in his voice, as well as a glint of a genuine threat.
The stern man, or as he was now known as Tora, blinked slowly before standing and walking calmly to the edge of the pool. He slipped in with a humble sort of grace, maintaining a neutral yet slightly irritated look on his face.
Conversely, Andrew was not as willing. He hobbled to the edge of the pool on his crutches, stopped at the shallow end, and tried taking deep breaths to prepare himself. His mind was trying to reassure him that it would be fine, that Will wouldn’t allow him to drown, but he kept hold of his doubts and worries. He glanced to the bleachers, to the doctor, and to the door, wondering what he should do, if he should run, or just get it over with. His choice wasn’t really his own to make, as he felt a strong, wet hand grab his ankle from the water and begin pulling him in.
It was Antoine wearing a big grin who was attempting to abduct him, and he was succeeding without any sort of strain apparent on his face. “Come now, swimming together is how it will be! No hiding or being a coward, little Andrew!” He was so jolly as he said this, despite easily tipping the shaky man forwards and into the water as his crutches clattered to the ground behind him.
There was only a split second to react to what was happening, just enough time to take a breath and close his eyes before impact. He felt it slap him in the face with a harsh sting before enveloping him in its cool embrace, offsetting the prickling feeling in his skin with the soothing sensation of bubbles escaping his clothes and skittering towards the surface. He held his eyes shut tight, squirming under the water as he fought to find which way was up and reaching around for anything to act as an anchor point and bring him up. It was then that he felt himself being drawn back up to the surface, and with some effort he was able to stand upright in the pool, bobbing above the surface and coughing from the water he had gotten into his nose and mouth.
As he stood there, sputtering to clear the water from his eyes with his palms, he overheard William speaking behind him in an authoritative manner. “Antoine, would you kindly refrain from endangering others? That comes dangerously close to a breakage of the second rule, and is generally unacceptable in civilized places.”
A deep belly laugh came as a response, along with a slap to Andrew’s back that nearly took him off his feet and managed to make him open his eyes despite the reflexive way he screwed his eyes shut when they got wet. “Ah, but sir, he was being a coward! It is water that is shallow, and this is our rehabilitation. He should have listened to his doctor right away and not delayed in getting to the swimming. Besides, look at him, he is fine and well with not even a hair missing from his head!” Antoine’s grin was seeping through his words, making Andrew scowl as he realized how this obnoxious man could just smile and laugh off nearly drowning someone.
William also seemed to be somewhat upset, but he was both bound by his professionalism and unable to dispute the validity of the claims made. “While you are correct in some regards, it is my job to see this operation and rehabilitation facility function, not yours. Do try to refrain from offering help unless the situation requires you to do so. That being said, please step away from Andrew and do not endanger him further. His situation is significantly less stable than yours at the moment and requires some additional guidance.”
Antoine seemed to lose interest at that and lazily drifted away, slipping between other patients as they kept themselves afloat as best as they could. Andrew was given a towel to dry his face and clear his nostrils while William moved towards the side of the pool. He cleared his throat and motioned for those in the pool to get closer, his floating white board drifting over with a blank slate ready for him. He quickly scribbled out a diagram of what he wanted them to do, and pointing to it he explained the task. “Today we will be starting things off with a mixture of exercise, social interaction, and swimming lessons all bundled up into one activity.This is a simple game, one where you are to divide into even numbered groups and take a ball. Your objective is to keep the ball in the air as long as you can and not allow it to touch the water. You may bounce it, catch it, toss it, pass it between yourself and your teammates, whatever works to keep it in the air. Communicate with your partner, and if you let the ball hit the water you switch partners with someone else. Does everyone understand the game?”
There was a mixture of affirmative nods and murmured answers, which for the doctor was good enough. With a wave of his hand a crate full of volleyballs rolled into the room from a slot in the wall, and on a little motorized bed it rolled over to the pool and began dispensing them one at a time out of a little chute. People were beginning to partner up already, with men and women starting off with introductions and explaining how they would do things, like passing it or trying to go for height and distance. Andrew, on the other hand, remained by the ladder with his hands white-knuckled around the poles, his eyes cast down into the shimmering blue beneath him. He wasn’t just fuming at the burly man’s attempt at “helping” him, and he wasn’t just embarrassed beyond belief, but he was also so incredibly out of place now that William had said something so stupid.
He cursed to himself silently. Seriously? He has a “significantly less stable” situation? The phrasing made it sound like he was either some frail little twig or a genuine nutcase. How was he supposed to socialize with people in this stupid game if everyone was going to avoid him? He was self aware enough to know that sulking wouldn’t fix things, but he honestly didn’t want to reach out just to be pushed away.
“You.” Came a stern voice he recognized. He looked up and stared at none other than Tora, who stood in the water with crossed arms before him. He wore a look of disinterest, but as he stared at Andrew he let out a sigh from his nostrils. “This activity, we must participate in. I dislike that I am forced to, but to resist these Trinas and the doctor is an undoable task. It would be better to comply and fulfill this recovery they speak of.” He glanced around the room as he spoke, almost intent on not making eye contact.
Bewildered would be a fantastic word to describe how Andrew felt, but he wasn’t going to let his shock keep him from accepting the offer. With slow, painfully deliberate motions he let go of his lifeline and stood on his shaky legs in the water. He took a deep breath to regain his composure, and with a nod he finally gave a reply. “Y-yeah, let’s do this!” He tried to sound optimistic and perhaps energetic, but his voice betrayed how anxious he was.
Tora didn’t seem to care too much and simply stood there, arms crossed and looking bored. He looked over his shoulder to see an unattended ball drifting along like many others the machine had carelessly dropped, and with a simple scooping motion he had it in his hands. For a moment he seemed curious about the ball, giving it a few squeezes and a toss in the air to get a feel for it before going back to his stoicism. “This is the object of our game?” He asked, holding it out for Andrew to take.
Accepting the ball, Andred did a similar act of getting a feel for the ball, realizing that its texture reminded him of a foam dodgeball more than a volleyball, yet the weight and plushness wasn’t like either of them. “That’s what Will said. Oh…um, I know I heard your name earlier, but I remember names better if I hear them from the owner, and it’s better for the game. Getting to know each other, I mean. Uh…crap. My name is Andrew.” He fumbled with his words terribly, and he visibly winced at how awful he had explained himself.
Taro blinked at him slowly, then with an amused scoff he replied. “Kitamori Tora, or if you would prefer, just Tora. None I have spoken with so far have addressed me by my family name, so I suppose it is of little importance here, or perhaps in this time. It does not matter to me, as I do not carry the Kitamori name with honor anymore regardless.” Silence fell over him at those last words, his expression darkening for a moment until he realized the lack of traction in their talk. “An unimportant matter. Pass the ball to me.”
Andrew complied, giving the ball a small shove into the air for Tora to catch with one hand. He then flicked his wrist and sent the ball back towards the thinner man, making him let out a sound of worry as the ball almost slipped through his fingers. The ball was successfully caught, but now Andrew was much less confident in his motor functions as a whole due to their continued sluggishness.
Tora eyes him warily, and as the ball was passed back to him he offered a friendly question. “William made a claim that you were unwell somehow. Is it natural born feebleness, or did your arrival here come at a cost.” With a gentler flick he sent the ball back over at a speed that was easier to manage for Andrew.
“Uh, the second one fits, I guess. I was in a pretty bad accident when they saved me, so they had to put me back together from head to toe.” The ball went back to Tora, who switched to using his left hand to catch and his right to return.
“Hmm… what sort of injury was it? Wait, perhaps I should ask what kind of world you have come from before asking that. Hmm…” Tora thought to himself as he served the ball again, this time with a bit of height so the other man had to jump slightly.
“Those are pretty good questions, and I’m not gonna lie, I think I wanted to ask the same. I’ve got an idea of when you came from, but I didn’t just want to guess in case I was wrong.” Andrew passed the ball back with a high arc, then put his hands to his hips as he resumed. “But you want an answer first, probably. Well, both answers are pretty simple. I came from North America of the twenty-first century, a time when machinery and electronics were the biggest aspect of my time. As for the injury, let’s just say that it was a rainy day and one of those machines had someone in control that ran me over. All that the doctor salvaged was my brain, and this body is what he cooked up… somehow.”
Tora took a moment to digest his words, reaching a hand up and rubbing his lower lip in concentration. “You were reduced to a brain, and were somehow pieced back together? Impossible. No, you were not lying, so that is the truth. This power the people of the future hold, it is not something I can truly fathom.” With a shake of his head he puts the ball under his arm, thoroughly submerging it.
Andrew stares at the ball, then at Tora, and slowly wonders what to do now. By the rules of the game they were supposed to swap now, but the man before him was too busy thinking to respond. He cast a glance to William to see how he was reacting to this blatant rule breaking, but to his astonishment he saw that the doctor was not only aware of their defiance of his game and the same from others, but was smiling at them as they fumbled and dropped the ball only to go back to their game. Andrew paused and thought it over, and realization dawned upon him. Will didn’t care about the rules, he had simply given people a way out if they didn’t like who they were playing with and wanted to meet and greet others. He squinted at the man in the white coat, who upon sensing the judging stare upon him turned and flashed the young man a little smirk.
What a sly fox, Andrew thought to himself, too absorbed in his thoughts to notice Tora readying to toss the ball. He barely turned in time to catch it as the stern man began to speak once more. “Your time, your death, and this future place confuse me, but I can understand that I am from a time before yours. I shall tell you of my own time, since you have told me of yours, and I shall reveal how I was slain. You see, I was a warrior of the lord, a samurai of the shogun Ashikaga, during a time of many battles. I was not struck by a machine, but slain in an ambush as I led my horse to the river. Arrows pierced my body and I rolled into the water, the world becoming cold and dark as the water consumed me. I then awoke here, in this time, with the strange unblinking women and the tall doctor.”
Andrew took a moment to digest the story presented to him. A samurai shot in the back as he went to water his horse. To him it was oddly tragic yet poetic at the same time, like something seen in dramas or epics. He squeezed the ball between his hands, pondering what to say next to this fallen warrior. “That really sucks. I’m sorry that happened to you.” It was all he could really say to him, though he felt it wasn’t the most elegant way to put it.
Tora gave a slow blink as he nodded in agreement with the statement. “It was not an honorable death as one would desire, but in a way it was a fitting end for me. Your sympathy is… appreciated, young Andrew.”
Being called young made him do a double take, thinking quickly and staring long and hard at this stoic and steady man. He thought that the man couldn’t be older than his mid-thirties, could he? It would be absurd for him to be any older than that. “Young man…is it too late to say that I’m actually twenty two?”
Tora frowned and jerked his head back, clearly taken by surprise. “You are one year my junior? But you look so young!”
Andrew was equally surprised, letting the ball fall and drift away as he pointed a finger at the samurai. “Wait, you’re only twenty three? Why are you acting like some kind of sage warrior then? And why do you look so much older?”
Tora made a grimace that was much worse and his disapproving look, his lips pulled into an upside-down “U” as he glowered at Andrew. “Are you saying that I look like an old man? That is a rude remark and an insult! I carry the wisdom of my teachers and the knowledge of many battles, something you could not understand unless you fought in battle yourself!” The samurai was fuming, his cheeks bright red as he appeared to be ready to strike Andrew.
Sensing his animosity and realizing what he said was wrong, he put his hands up in a disarming pose of surrender, backing a step away from the angry warrior. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it as an insult, I was just surprised because you seem so mature and competent! It was a poorly phrased compliment, I swear!”
Tora’s expression softened slightly, his shoulders slowly sliding down as his anger subsided. Before he could speak again there came a whistle sound, and there at the edge of the pool was the doctor squatting down and holding a little yellow flag. He pointed to the ball drifting away in the water, letting the whistle fall out of his mouth and dangle from its strap. “Alright guys, break it up. Penalty to Andrew, he dropped the ball. Find new partners and cool off you two.”
Heeding the doctor’s words, Andrew and Tora shared a look at one another that spoke of a slight sting to their fledgling relationship, yet didn’t bear any animosity. Tora turned and waded through the pool with a contemplative look on his face while Andrew took a few steps towards the shallows until his chest was above the water. He let out a frustrated growl, annoyed with himself for upsetting someone as interesting and genuinely relaxing to talk to like Tora. He hoped that the samurai would talk to him again later and perhaps accept his apology for insulting him.