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EPISODE 7: THE SECOND JOB

It's late but Fiona still works vigorously, looking like a frenzied fox with her frizzy and haphazardly tied red hair. She's back to combing through Adranuch Cao's financial records, taking note of her various cards and income streams. Fiona's monitor is angled slightly away from the couch where Abin sleeps. So that the light doesn't disturb him, of course.

"What are you doing?"

His voice is low and sleepy, but not even gruff in the slightest. Fiona unconsciously tilts the monitor even further from him and swivels to face him, having trouble reading his expression in the darkness.

"I thought you were sleeping," she tries to say casually. "It's late."

"You have class in the morning."

"That I do."

"Would you not prioritize your work over your strange gadgets?" He doesn't say it in a particularly mean voice, just genuine confusion.

"This is my... second job."

She had hoped that that would be enough to deter his questions but he only sits up straighter, hair messy from laying on the couch. "Are you also teaching children on your device?"

Fiona swivels in her chair and plants her feet down, hoping she doesn't look too nervous. "I- er, no. I... fundraise for the school that I run. Since the government no longer funds schooling, I have to find... benefactors who will help keep it running."

Abin watches her twiddle in her chair. He takes in the scene, her turned away monitor shrouded in darkness. "So you ask these donors for money on your computer?" He stumbles on the new term that Fiona had only taught him days ago. It's clear he's having trouble wrapping his head around IMing, let alone what Fiona's actually doing on her computer.

Fiona tries to act like it's a rhetorical question but his expectant gaze makes it clear that it's not. She waits a moment before answering. "No... I do not ask them, per se. But it's such a small amount that they would never notice that it's gone to a good cause." This isn't the version she usually tells people. She wonders why she chose the truth.

Abin considers that for a moment. Finally, he says: "You're stealing from people."

"Maybe some would call it that, I guess," Fiona says, just wanting to turn back to the monitor and finish the transfer so she can go to bed and forget admitting to anyone just how her school is able to stay open.

"Do you think it's acceptable to steal because it's for a good cause?" Abin wonders aloud, and something about the question itches at Fiona.

"I know you're a monk and all, but who made you the expert on morality in this century?" she asks, a little more biting than she intended.

Even in the dark, she can see Abin's eyes widen in surprise at her tone. "I did not intend any offense—"

For some reason, Fiona wants to cry. Like, really cry and sob and scream at the world and the life she's found herself in. It's true, Fiona's father would have never wanted her to use the skills he'd taught her like this. It's true, she's justifying the means to an end which is what she always criticizes Shailene for. It's true that Fiona knows what she's doing is wrong and yet here she still is.

Instead of saying all this, she says, "You can kill dozens of people in the matter of seconds. That's really the crazy thing."

Abin's lips flatten. For half a second, Fiona wonders if he'll pull out the white light on her but the thought's gone as soon as it comes. His gaze bores into her with that breathless torment and she almost wants to squirm under the intensity of his pain.

"I mean, why weren't you sleeping?" she asks, trying to diffuse the tension in the room. Fiona can taste the apology on her lips but none of the words to form it.

He stares at her for a beat more. "Because I do not disagree," he says, voice barely above a whisper as he tucks himself back into the blanket. "I deserve to have no say in the matter." He turns to face the wall and every word dies on her lips.

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Today, Fiona delivers an English lesson centered on writing their own personal pieces. When she doles out the prompt and the students eagerly jot down their stories, Fiona can't help but steal glances at Abin, who stares listlessly out the window. She wonders what he's thinking about. Well, she's always wondering what he's thinking about. But right now, she's wondering if he's thinking about their conversation last night like she is.

At least he plays the role of the security guard very well. Every time there's movement outside, he twitches. She's full-on staring at him now, but she doesn't care. She wonders why he's so sad all the time. What he's running away from, all those centuries ago — and how he did it. And what that beautiful white light was.

"Fiona." Abin clears his throat and gestures for her to come over. "Ms. Leigh."

He's turned around towards her now and she can't help the blush, wondering how long he's noticed her staring at him. "What's up?" she asks, trying not to disturb the students from their writing exercises.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

To her surprise, Abin loops a hand around her wrist and pulls her close. His cool whisper brushes against her ear. "Do not panic. Just tell me honestly. Do you see something?"

He gestures through the slats of the window and for a minute, Fiona has no idea what he's talking about. Her heart is racing, although maybe it's because she can see that same mole she noticed all those days ago, closer than ever. She could even run the soft pad of finger over it.

She shakes herself back to reality. At first, it looks just like the regular alleyway that this empty storage unit has always lived in. Maybe a few rats or two, blistered and mutilated from the toxic weather conditions. But a glimmer of movement behind a dumpster stops Fiona's heart. The familiar barrel of a gun. The one that was pointed at Abin just weeks ago.

"What do we do?" he asks, hand tight against her wrist. Despite the situation, the we makes her feel a bit better. Maybe he's not so mad at her after all.

She releases a shaky breath and turns to face the children. She plasters on the biggest smile she can possibly conjure, even knowing that there are at least a dozen armed Compliance Order troops surrounding the perimeters at the moment. "I have some exciting news, everyone. We're going to take a break and have an early recess! We should build a fort with all of our desks. How does that sound?"

The children are baffled by the announcement and not all of them are too pleased. "But I always use my recesses to draw," Ryo says. "Can we use something else for the fort?"

Fiona amps up her smile even more. "You can do that any other day. Today, we're going to build a fort. It'll be fun!"

Ryo frowns. "But why can't I just do what I want?"

Behind her, Fiona can see Abin tensing and all she can imagine of what's happening outside the window are the worst case scenarios. Stupid, she tells herself. Stupid for bringing Abin here. For putting these children into this situation. For thinking she could handle this without Left Behind. Stupid, stupid, stupid. And now these children were going to pay for it. She smiles through the tears, thankful for once that she was never able to secure better lighting for the classroom. "Because today, we're building a fort," she repeats lamely.

All of the children stare at her confusedly, their writing exercises in front of them long forgotten. "A fort," Kira chirps cheerfully, wiping everything off her desk and carrying it over to Ryo's. "It's like drawing, but in real life."

Fiona tries her best to still her shaking hands to help the children lift the desks upon each other as Abin keeps watch at the window. Stupid, stupid. She has no plan. She just knows that there's a squad of empty-faced troops with multiple rounds of bullets. They'd never shoot at children needlessly, but Fiona has no idea on how to get them out of this situation before all hell breaks loose.

Right as she stacks the last desk and ushers the last child into their makeshift fort, a familiar robotic voice rises from all around them. "We have reason to suspect that you, Ms. Fiona Leigh, are harbouring a fugitive wanted for Sheltersuit Misdemeanours, Lack of Identification, Resistance to Arrest, and Murder." A tear finally falls when she sees the children huddle together, jumping at the cold voice that invades their classroom.

"You have five minutes to surrender yourself and the fugitive before we come in and arrest you. You are surrounded by ten squads of troops. Escape is not an option."

Fiona sprints across the classroom when she sees Abin reach for the front door. "What are you doing?"

"I'll surrender myself," he says simply.

"You can't do that."

"You would rather let these children die?" Abin whispers, not unkindly, gesturing towards the whimpering children who peer at them from under the desks. Kira, who's always too grown up. Dev, who continues to hope and pray for something he knows he can never have. Kimmy, who shows up every day with endless creativity and passion.

All too young to be involved in a world like this, where fourteen-year-olds kill themselves for a cause.

"No," Fiona says resolutely. "But they'll kill you on the spot."

"Fiona," he says softly as the alarms begin to blare. "I am not concerned."

She rolls her eyes. "Look, you're pretty powerful but–"

"I'm not," he says, looking more at peace than he ever has since she first found him. "I don't want to be here. I don't understand how I ended up here or what the world has come to in 2040. When people tell you about the future, you imagine a better place. Not this. But I can't go back either. I've done something unforgivable and I cannot go back." Abin unzips his Sheltersuit. "I am not concerned about dying. In fact, it's what I deserve."

Fiona wants to scream at him. "Look, I clearly don't get what you're going through. But I am not going to have you kill yourself in front of a bunch of children. All we can focus on now is getting them out."

Abin's hand drops from the door handle as the robotic voice repeats the message over and over. Sheltersuit Misdemeanours, Lack of Identification, Resistance to Arrest, and Murder. "How?"

Fiona reaches into a pocket that she hasn't touched in years. A pocket that she never wanted to touch again. But angling away from the makeshift fort, Fiona brandishes the first compact machine gun her mother had gifted her before her death. "We fight."

Abin takes a deep breath, eyeing the lethal weapon in her hands. He pulls out some paper scrolls off his changsam, which drapes over his Sheltersuit. He puts a few between his palms. When his hands part, a reed-thin white sword, made of paper, emerges.

Fiona stares at it, dumbfounded. Abin whispers. "I'll follow your lead."

The Compliance Order is counting down from one minute now. Fiona rushes back over to the fort and crouches down to the children that she's loved and cared for over the past few years. "I have one last homework assignment for you all. I need you all to secure your Sheltersuits and when you hear me yell banana, I want you all to run along the wall behind the dumpsters until you can find a telephone booth, where you can call your parents. No need to wait for me or Mr. Seol. Can you all do that?"

They all nod but for once, Kira seems hesitant to accept an assignment. "What will you be doing, Ms. Leigh?"

Fiona smiles tearfully. "I tried to escape something from my past but it seems that I can't ever really help but be involved." She pats Kira's hand softly and tightens a clasp on the 10-year-old's Sheltersuit. She grabs Kira's tiny helmet and puts it over her head, making sure they are clasped tight. How quickly she'd grown up, just like Fiona had. "Thank you all for the opportunity to escape for a while. Teaching you gave me a life worth fighting for and I will never forget that."

Kira is sobbing now and the other children cling onto her sympathetically, patting her back and blotting away her tears. "I don't understand, Ms. Leigh."

"All I need you to understand is the code word," Fiona says, as cheerfully as she can. "Banana, okay? Until then, you stay here for as long as possible. And then you run."

They nod just as the front door explodes in a wall of sparks. A squad of at least 20 Compliance Order troops face Fiona and Abin, with their guns aimed directly at them. "Your warning has run out," the mechanical voice intones.

"There are children here," Fiona pleads, choking slightly over her own words. "Let them leave first."

"Your warning has run out," the voice repeats. "Fire."