ALEXANDER GALDUR
What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. Her.
After another spar, here I am, lying down in somehow both numbness and pain. This. Is. Awful.
Groaning, I sat up, glaring at the reason behind my misery-riddled state. The blonde-haired girl sneered at me, a satisfied, shit-eating grin plastered across her face. Those green-hazel eyes curved in sadistic joy. She is so goddamned petty!
With elegance in mind, she twirled around and sauntered away just as Trainer Masako called out for us to finish up.
I collapsed in exhaustion, and soon after, regretted it as a sharp spike of pain shot through me. Icy fire spread through my nerves, forcing a muffled cry from my tightly-shut lips. A pained and ragged sigh was pushed from my lungs, the darkness of my closed eyelids reminding me of the ass who did this.
Opening those eyes to help push the memory from my head, I saw Max and his outstretched hand. Huh, I’m getting a sense of déjà vu.
“Here, let me help.” Max offered.
I reached out and gripped his hand, “Thanks.”
With a single heave, he pulled with all his strength. I felt myself start to lift off the ground, but just as quickly as the boost came, it lightened up, and my head came down onto the gong-like metal floor.
My vision blacked out, everything disappearing for the quickest moment. My brain felt rattled and a dull ache came from the back of my head, “Ow. That… Ow.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Let me, uh, just try again.” Max stuttered as he tried to pull me up again. This time, instead of letting him inevitably bash my head against the floor again, I pushed off the ground to help him. I rose with the combination of mine and Max’s efforts.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” He apologized vigorously.
I agonizingly nodded my head and lied, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
Max’s shoulders dropped a little, relaxing now that he thought I wasn’t hurt. I eyed him before I turned around, “Let’s go to the changing room.”
I heard the confirmation from both Deimos and Max, but I was too busy keeping myself from collapsing. Everything hurt. I was sore all over from exercising, the skinless sections sent waves of pain through me. My head hurt, a dull ache coming from its back, and it felt like my thoughts were trapped in molasses with how slow they crawled.
I only just managed to process my greatest anxiety and hesitance for the changing room: I look even worse than before. If my bony ass attracted attention before, then my stick-thin and skinned body will draw even more.
Loathing what was to come, I dragged myself to the changing room. I swung the door open and stumbled to my locker. Then and there, I began changing. Just like last time, the room went silent except for some surprised gasps. I ignored them, my brain too tired to even stress. Then again, what if they ask me about what happened? What if they know something’s wrong? Am I safe here? Will I be okay?
What’s their game?
Changing as quickly as I could and running past the worried and clearly nauseous Max, I emerged from the changing room with the voice still screaming in my head. My breath quickened and I could feel the fear and anxiety consuming me.
Taking a shaky breath, I steadied my nerves. Here, no one was paying attention to me. I was safe. I was fine.
You’ll never be safe. You’ll never be fine.
“Lucas, are you okay?” Deimos asked me as he set his hand on my shoulder. My right shoulder. My injured shoulder.
They only want to hurt you.
With a flash, I lashed out at Deimos. Not even aware of what I was doing, I grappled for Deimos's arm, but he managed to pull away before I could do anything,
Damn.
Deimos put a hand on my shoulder, my left one thankfully, and he soothed me into calming down, “Hey, calm down. Sorry, it must’ve hurt. Look, while attacking me is not helping my opinion, I’ll give you a freebie for this one, so don’t worry, I won’t ask you what happened; I think I have a pretty good idea already. C’mon, let’s get you to a doctor.”
I hesitantly nodded. I didn’t feel safe around Deimos, but was there really much of a choice? Right now, I’m hurt, I’m weak, I’m in unfamiliar territory, and I’m both outnumbered and outpowered.
After trudging down the many winding halls, Deimos and I arrived at the medical bay. Just like the last few times I was there, Dr. Whitaker was there. Smirking as his eyes locked onto me, he strolled over to me and smugly asked, “Hi, Lucas. Back again I see? Well, what are you in the need for this time? I assume since you walked here yourself, it probably isn’t any worse than your last visits.” Despite his prodding and taunting however, the way he held himself sung of practiced professionalism. It’s nice to see that even if he is an asshole, the treatment I’m getting is the real deal.
I silently started taking off my shirt, sneering the entire time. When I got my shirt off, held in my left hand, I just glared at him. His expression changed, his cold, joyful eyes turning serious and focused. His normally awful posture instantly righted itself, going from the unhealthy hunch it was in straight into something perfect. He placed his cup of coffee down on a nearby table.
His eyes snapped from systematically examining my wounds to looking me dead in the eyes, “An abrasion spanning from the right pecs to a little past the right shoulder. And, what’s with that pattern? A spiral? Lucas, how did you get this?”
My heart skipped a beat. Okay, how to lie to him? Magical mishaps are out the window; A. Light magic can’t do this. B. That means it would have to be someone else’s magic, and getting others involved was risky. I wanted to turn to look at Deimos, but that would give away that I was trying to hide something. With my mind going a mile a minute, I decided to just calm down. Rule of lying: don’t overthink it. Trust yourself.
Instead of having my mind focus on viable excuses, I kept my mind focused on keeping control of my body language. Steady breathing, normal posture, focused eyes, all of these will help make me more believable. I kept up my glare, knowing that this is how I would be even if I wasn’t lying, and like water, I let the falsities flow, “I messed up. I messed around with magic, and I lost control.”
Rule of lying: keep your lies within the truth. I did slip up during the magic. Of course, with my magic type, like I had thought of before, Dr. Whitaker had doubts, “You have light magic. The damage you incurred here couldn’t have been from your magic.”
Rule of lying: don’t mention events that never happened. You’re late to work and say that there was an accident. Someone could check the information of the route you were on, and boom: your lie is disproven. That’s why I’m going to use an actual event, “I was mixing magic with someone else. I was the one in charge of keeping up both of our magic types, and I lost control. My magic fizzled out, and their magic lost its purpose.”
Dr. Whitaker looked taken aback for a moment. Then, he readjusted himself and asked the next logical question, “What was their magic?”
“Ink.” I replied almost instantly, confidence exuding from my presence, “The ink tore down my body and ripped away my skin.” While not true, and going against the previous rule, it was good enough.
Dr. Whitaker looked thoughtful and skeptical for a moment before he let it go, “Alright. Come here, and I’ll treat you. The top layer of skin is missing, so it should be an easy fix. Heads up, however, it’ll cost you.”
At that, my normal posture flinched, changing into something more feral. Damn him to hell! He was using everything as an excuse to squeeze more money out of me! Groaning, I moaned, “Damn it. Don’t tell me how much it’ll cost; I don’t need mental health treatments running up the costs as well.”
The wicked doctor grinned, ear to ear with greed simply overflowing from his eyes. He didn’t say another word and proceeded with the treatment. It was just some basic healing from him, but boy did it feel great. The pain disappeared, and in its place, a feeling of refreshment and health practically radiated from me. Of course, that was only my body; my mind was still internally wishing he lost his job and ended up a homeless drunk.
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That was when he frowned, “Strange, it’s leaving a scar. That… shouldn’t be happening. Hmm…” Stopping and thinking for a moment, his eyes drifted somewhere else, someplace far away.
However, that gave me hope, “Does that mean it’ll be cheaper.”
Being surprised for only a second, Dr. Whitaker smiled once more, “Only a little. What matters isn’t if it leaves a mark; you wanted to be healed? You’ve been healed.”
With a smug and all-too cheerful goodbye, Deimos and I left the medical bay. I couldn’t help but scowl at Deimos’s curved lips. He happened to take note of it, and instead of changing his smirk, it only grew wider. Every person here is sadistic and cruel. Well, maybe one person is fine.
Ah, that’s right!
Remembering Anna from my time in the medical bay, my spirits soared. Now that I was off training and she was off the clock as it was Sunday, maybe we could watch some Digimon. Though, now that I thought about it, wasn’t today her only off day? Would she really want to spend it with some random acquaintance she met in the hospital who just happened to be a fellow fan of some show?
…
…
… Maybe? Isn’t that just me trying to convince myself? Aghh! Social situations are so annoying. I can lie like it's nothing, but then this comes around. Now, I’m helpless. Fuck.
Noticing my suddenly slowed pace, Deimos turns to look at me, “What’s the matter?”
Stopping completely, I thought about whether or not I should tell him about my inner turmoil. On one hand, he’s helped me through my time here, and he hasn’t led me wrong since. On the other hand, earlier today, he did just give me an eerie, ominous, and threatening deadline until he told the higher ups of the DME about my existence, in which case, I would be “dealt with.”
Finally giving in, I let him in on my mundane dilemma, “Remember Anna from the hospital? Well, we share a common interest in a series, and as I’ve never had access to the later seasons, and therefore, no way to watch them, she offered that we could watch them together when she was off. The thing is though, this is her only day off, and I doubt she’d want to spend it with someone like me. You know what? Nevermind, it was a stupid problem; forget I mentioned it. I’ll just stick to myself. Yeah. That’d be best for everyo-”
“Alright, stop there.” Deimos interrupted, stopping me before my tangent could get even further out of control, “Heh, alright, look. This is a simple problem. She offered to spend time with you, mentioned her days off, and you want to spend more time with her. So, just do it.”
Huh. Yeah, I guess that does make sense. It… It just seems pretty simple now that I’m thinking about what Deimos said. Smiling, I thanked Deimos, “You’re right. Thanks.”
Showing off one of his best smiles, Deimos accepted my gratitude, “You’re welcome. Happy to help.”
Odd. A few hours ago, he was threatening me, and now, he’s saying he’s happy to help? What’s with him? Does he have any ulterior motives? Can he be trusted?
No
I need to keep a closer eye on him. Maybe I can find some blackmail on him. If he decides I can’t be trusted or goes back on his word, then I’ll need the advantage to keep his mouth shut. So far, he’s been good. Got me some things for day to day life, but I’m not sure how long he’ll be keeping it up.
“Alright, let’s get to the dorm then. I need a shower.” I noted.
“Yeah, I bet,” Deimos commented as he waved his hand in front of his nose. I didn’t smell that bad… Did I?
After arriving at the dorm, I immediately hopped in the shower. The hot water cleansed my sticky, sweat-covered skin, removing the filth covering me. I have not been able to appreciate showers while living on the streets, and boy howdy how I’ve missed out. Showers feel so good.
After washing my body thoroughly and rinsing the last bits of shampoo from my hair, I dried myself off with a towel. Deimos had a few extra towels to spare, so he placed one in my bathroom. The guy would make a great caretaker. If things don’t work out in the DME for him, I’ll suggest he gets a job at an orphanage. I bet kids would like the guy.
After reapplying deodorant and getting changed into my khaki pants and white shirt, I exited the room with renewed vigor. My injuries were gone, I was feeling clean and presentable; I was ready… Where did she live?
I realized I never actually learned about where she lived or anything like contact information. The only place I’ve seen her is in the medical bay, but besides that, I really didn’t know of any other way to find her. I could go asking around about where she lived, but I have a feeling people won’t take kindly to me asking about a person’s address. Yeah, it’s probably not the best idea to ask a stranger about someone else’s home.
Grumbling as I left my room, I turned to Deimos to help me out, “Hey, Deimos. Do you by any chance happen to know where Anna lives?”
… Yikes, that stare hurts. Deimos is just giving me a deadpan stare filled with extreme judgmental energy. Deimos opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and then opened it again once he was finished judging me, “Why would I know where she lives. You were the one who was invited; you should be the one who knows.”
“She never told me.” I defended myself.
Deimos shook his head in response, “Well, I guess you can’t be blamed if she never told you. Come on, you’re already all dressed up; let’s head out tonight.”
“Thanks.” I replied. Most people wouldn’t appreciate pity, but if I can get something out of it, I’ll be the most pitiful thing in the world.
Walking out of the dorm, we made a right to get to the elevators, but in room 384, two doors down, someone walked out from their room. About 5’4” with red hair that’s orange around the base. Green eyes that contrast her hair wonderfully and practically glow in unison with her healthy, tanned skin. In a pair of blue jeans and a yellow t-shirt, she was instantly recognized by both me and Deimos as we came to a halt. Sometimes, we do get what we want.
“Hey, Anna.” I greeted, stunned.
Surprised, she turned around, only to be even more surprised, “Lucas? Deimos?”
My mind seemed to come to a halt, freezing right then and there. Luckily, it seemed my body knew what to do, “Hey, is that offer to watch Digimon at yours still open?”
She seemed shocked for a moment, but with a small laugh and a wide smile, she confirmed, “Yep! I was about to head out to go grocery shopping, but that can wait. Wanna come in?”
Returning the smile, I happily accepted, “Yeah; I guess I’ll be around later today, Deimos.”
“You mean we.” He corrected me.
… We?
“We?”
“We.” He repeated, further cementing my confusion.
… We?
“What do you mean by we?”
Deimos just looked me in the eye and slowly explained as if talking to a small child, “I mean that both you and I will be heading in with Anna.”
“... Why?” I asked.
“You should already know why.” He answered.
… I mean, I have a pretty solid guess. He doesn’t trust me. This guy is offering me a night out one second, but then he goes ahead and makes some snarky comment on his distrust of me. I’m noticing a pattern.
Giving in, I let out an exasperated sigh, “Fine, do whatever.”
Walking into Anna’s dorm, Deimos and I express our gratitude with a simple, “Thanks for having us.” Anna, looking a little surprised by Deimos’s appearance, asks, “Oh, Deimos, you’re joining us? I didn’t know you liked Digimon.”
“I haven’t really heard about it much, but I’m interested.” Deimos shrugged, “Besides, I need to let Lucas in when he comes back, so I thought I’d just stick with him.”
“Oh, alright!” Anna smiled and said a little too loudly. Pretending not to notice but turning the volume down, she adds, “Well, the more the merrier.”
Leaving them to their conversation, I took a look around the room. It’s pretty much the exact same room as Deimos’s. There are only a few differences like the two bookshelves assembled next to the tv, one on each side. They are both full of books, specifically sci-fi and fantasy novels. The bottom shelf of the leftmost book case, however, is filled with Digimon DVDs. Next to the couch in front of the tv were two bean bag chairs, one on each side.
Below the tv was a DVD player with a wire connecting the two. Anna closed the door behind Deimos and I and started setting up the DVD player. After turning on the tv and opening the disc tray, she went over to the bookcase and asked Deimos without facing us, “Hey, Deimos, I’m assuming you haven't watched any Digimon, yeah?”
“Yeah.” He confirmed, also looking around the dorm.
“Alright,” She responded after picking up the leftmost case, “Lucas, you don’t mind if we start off with the very beginning, do you?”
“Nope, I’m happy to rewatch it.” I replied, smiling at the good memories of the beginning of Digimon.
“Great!” She responded while finishing setting up Digimon. While the ads played, she went over to the kitchen and asked,”Alright, does anyone want snacks or drinks? I got stuff like Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, root beer, and Birch Beer. For snacks I’ve got dips, chips, popcorn, and other stuff. I’ll be setting out french onion dip and Ruffles.”
“I’ll have a root beer and popcorn.” Deimos replied.
“Alright,” Anna noted, “You, Lucas?”
“Popcorn and Diet Coke for me.” I answered.
She nodded, “Okay, I’ll be right back.”
After that, she came back a few minutes later with everything. Just like that, time flew by as we were all immersed in the wonders of Digimon.