Chapter 4: uncomfortable

I feel the gnawing feeling of deja-vu as we come out from Training Centre 5 via the back door. We immediately duck into the side path outsife of it. We move as fast as we can without making too much noise and without pressurising Seth to agitate his ankle's condition by running. A delicate balance, really.

As able as Seth is, as fast-healing as our bodies are (the small scrapes and bruises are healed within an hour), and as medicinally efficient as Meta-Pills are (a dose quickens the healing process by two times for each pill), it's undeniably obvious, from the way Seth runs, that he's injured himself. He can walk without a problem, but as Runners as expected to, he has to run as often as he breathes. Or at least, as much as possible. As do I.

But as we tried on the (forgivably carpeted) corridor of Training Centre 5, he's cautious not to put too much weight on it, gingerly putting his left foot down and then quickly changing his weight to his other foot immediately and lingering on it for as long as possible. This style of running tilts his gait to his right foot abnormally, not to mention makes him rather laughable. So we resolved to skulk in the safetty of the deserted alleyways before we reach our Group Buildings.

Dayn holds her head high as she walks, as if leading an injured counterpart and a friend whose head is usually in the clouds, not to mention not informing Aphrodite of the injury, is nothing to be ashamed of. I marvel at her bravado.

And Seth and I soundlessly, telepathically agree to conveniently forget that Danzor isn't in our Group Building, or us in hers.

As we walk, sometimes stopping to help Seth across jagged cracks and stinking puddles that spell disuse of the walkway, I feel the bubbling urge to speak of memories we share in this confusing web of sliproads, of how we'd run here to hide, of narrow escapes from Academics, of Seth dragging an unwilling me, with Dayn in the lead as we foraged on to some unknown, normally Forbidden, Area. That word that ruled Dayn's life. Once something contained "Forbidden" in its name, Dayn was sure to include it in her to-do list. The challenge in the word drew her to it like cold hands to a fire.

I hold back breaking the silence. There comes a time when a silence has not been broken for so long, one does not know how and when to do so. In the end, it is simply left alone, like a piece of decoration that you've stuffed away for so long, you don't want to see it anymore.

Anyhow, I can tell that we're all thinking of those days; there are times like these where their thoughts merge with mine. There are moments when our minds overlap, and what's on mine, has a 9 in 10 chance of being what's on theirs. As we've gotten older, I note, these times have gotten lesser.

After we emerge, warm, sweaty and dusty, from the "road never travelled", we're right in front of the first Residential Buildings in Sector 3. So far so good. We're all in the same Sector at least. We scan our KeyCards at the first of many Guard posts, with a slate-faced Security Personnel dipping his head robotically after each KeyCard is approved with a "ding" and a small green light flashing. Dayn leads the way in.

After the preliminary Guard, there is a long path with various turnoffs to smaller ones, which terminate with a flat, one-storey building. To the left, there are the Blue and Red Quarters, their Buildings close to bursting with the ruckus they make. Dayn's nose crinkles and she pointedly looks away from them.

To the right, the silent Group Buildings are more than a contrast to the ones they face. They house silent Yellows and Greens, who want to differentiate themselves from "those immature Reds and Blues". They lie, undecorated, detached. Each Group Building is guarded by a Supervisor under Zeus, one of the elusive Purples who'd rather stand all day outside and socialize with stone-faced Yellows and Greens than push papers inside a stuffy office and socialize with their reflections.

Group members consist of a pair of Yellows and a pair of Greens, each with one Kreul and one Krono. Seth and I live under the watchful gaze of Rade-Kai, a Purple ex-Wrestler and Jero-Kai and Yuno-Kai, two apathetic Yellow Swimmers, skin tanned and limbs muscled with their packed Training Schedules. Dayn resides in the next Building.

In total disregard for that fact, Danzor motions for us both to walk past her Group Building.Even when we feel the eyes of her Purple Supervisor on our retreating backs. Her elusive partner Green, the Runner Silo-Krono, stares out too. I can almost see his strange pale eyes with their probing, intense stares, the eyes that don't hold as much as a trace of green, dominated by the moonstone qualities that make him stand out from most people. I remember his emaciated wrists, with their emerald shade seeming to drain slowly. His explosive running only seems to deprove as he constantly contracts the Aches.

"Seth-Krono. Lia-Kreul." a hesitation, though not because he doesn't recognize her. "Dayn-Kreul."

The hint of amusement, reprimand and superiority fuse into the unmistakable voice of Rade-Kai. He folds his arms over his stocky chest and looks at us through his left eye, his better eye.

"Rade-Kai." Dayn acknowledges, for once without the touch of frost and with the appropriate suffix. "May we enter?" Her courtesy rather unnatural.

"Dayn-Kreul, you aren't allowed in this building." He states, as if it isn't already obvious that Dayn's not here just to see her friends off.

She brushes the sentence away and makes to enter. He moves to block her. His fist clench at his sides, a warning signal, their veins popping up and muscles contorting to form a solid web of power.

"No."

She stares at him, her lips just turning up into a ghost of a smile. She hardly thinks anything anyone says can possibly stop her. Normally, it can't.

He stares back at her. He's aware of her innate insubordination and her rebellious streak. But that doesn't stop him, a born and bred disciplinarian, from trying to control her.

I quickly move to break up the impending confrontation. They draw too much attention, the other Buildings might hear.

"Seth-Krono and I should manage fine on our own. You don't need to worry Dayn-Kreul. We will meet you at Recoloring...when...we meet you. Thank you and good day."

Dayn freezes where she is and mechanically turns her head to me. She takes a step away from the gate, in a stupor. Seth mutely brushes past her, as do I. Rade-Kai smiles slightly, inclining his head as a silent farewell to Dayn. He's almost proud of my quick and effective removal of a "hazard" by the name of Dayn-Kreul. He swipes both our KeyCards, nods approvingly, and closes the gate. Firmly, and right in her face.

As I help Seth through the door to our Group Building, I hear her hand slowly wrapping around one bar of the grilled gate, rattling it once, twice, futilely. The weight of her glare, and the silent questioning look Seth gives me, makes it all the harder to step through the door. I hesitate on closing the door, then in one fell swoop, I slam it close with as much finality as I can imbue into it. I resist looking out of the window too, even though I ache to see if she leaves, and if her eyes still hold that lost look I'd seen for the first time today.

--

Inside, I can still feel that gaze burning into my memory. The shock, the surprise, the indignation, and that something I couldn't quite place. The one that was caused when you...I searched my memory for a time that I felt closest to this. When you were pushed away, when you were excluded, ostracized even. The feeling that was...loneliness, with a double spoonful of disappointment and a large dash of betrayal. She'd shown emotions today, raw and bare. I'd really ought to be rejoicing. The Dayn-Kreul, the cool-headed, taciturn, emotion-hating Dayn-Kreul, had shown the very same feelings she'd told me she hated.

Yet...

The first emotions I'd seen on her face weren't the ones I'd wanted her to feel. They were ones that I caused, negative ones that I'd caused. The whole fiasco made my stomach churn a bit and my thoughts started blending together in a hopeless mess of unknowns.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. The weight, the pressure, the warmth, are all familiar. I shrug it off.

"You...want to talk?"

I cast him a disdainful, sidealong stare. Seth's not the best when it comes to sharing sessions. Then again, no one is really. I swing my legs onto the bed's surrface and face the wall, feet curling under me.

"What's there to say?"

I deadpan, hoping that its dismissive manner is half as good as Dayn's is. I just wish he'd get the hint that I want him out of my sight for the moment. The blended mass of thought is alien, confusing, not the calm, happy thoughts I'm used to. There used to be times where things seemed clearer than others, when I'd finally get what I was thinking. But after a short while, an hour or two, I couldn't remember what it was that I'd gotten. Sometimes it was when I talked with someone, then something just sparked off a bit of understanding. But most of the time, when there was no one that would understand, I tried sorting it out on my own. Like I was trying to do now.

"Dayn's, well, she's not the easiest person to get along with."

His sentence comes out hesitantly, as if he's not sure it's true. I just brush it away. He waits for a few long moments, as though he wants to see if I'll open up to him just because he spouted a vague line trying to summarize our "friend" (I choose to settle for apostrophes in this case. When competition runs deep in your veins, there are no use for such /nothing/ things, as Dayn would put it.). When I don't offer him any form of recognition, the pressure finally /finally/ lifts, and his presence leaves through room with the closing of a door.

As the door clicked shut, so did something in my head. It was at that point that I suddenly realized the amount of truth that lay in the layers underneath that otherwise paltry statement. It was true, Dayn was /not/ the easiest person to get along with. In a relationship with her, you found that you gave a lot more than you would ever know you could receive back, but you gave anyway. You could offer her jokes and riddles and quirks and statements, and you'd never know if she'd give you a smile or a frown, as if what you said insulted her. But there was always this urge inside you to constantly give her things, even when you /knew/ that there was nothing in it for you. It was just the way she could manipulate people, whether she was aware of it or not.

Seth's statement, for once, is hauntingly accurate, reflective of what I had felt.

I quickly turn around to call him back, wanting to tell him that he was right this time, that I'd like his company for a while, but he wasn't there anymore. I made it to the door, before my mind caught up with my body. Suddenly feeling silly, albeit even more muddled, I lie back on my bed, acutely aware of the springs that groan ever so slightly under my weight, the same springs that, after years of tossing myself on it, had melded to fit the contours of my back. I turn around and face the wall, closing my eyes.

Nothing made sense anymore.

--

My InterCom goes off with a shrill ring. I turn around, groaning as it wakes me up from a blissfully blank sleep I had tried so hard to obtain. I grope around on my dresser, then open my eyes to find it not there. Grasping around where I can feel its vibration and where the din it makes seems to originate from, I finally find it near my bedpost. I flip it open and mutter a greeting irritably.

"Lia-Kreul."

The cold metallic voice of Jace, with an edge of dislike and grating of fatigue (she'd have to make a good 500 calls or so like this one.), filled my receiver. It was as good waking me up as a bucket of cold water. My back immediately straightens and my voice rids itself of its tired aftertones.

"Yes, ma'am."

"You are to report to Treatment Centre 3, the building to the South of the Central Area, for your recoloring at 1300 hours. You will be required to arrive there promptly as the Purples on duty there have a large amount of Olympians to Treat before the day is up. Is that noted?"

"Noted," A hesitation, and I'm suddenly inspired by the memory of Roll Call this morning. I hasten to add, "Jace-Kai."

There's an intake of breath at my bravado. Then she clears her throat, and continues as if she didn't hear what I just said.

"Good day Lia-Kreul."

/Click./

I feel a small rush of triumph at my ability to induce discomfort. I fall backwards onto my bed, InterCom thudding near my head.

1300 hours. The numbers imprint themselves in my mind. Recoloring. But not just any other /nothing/ recoloring. This was the last one, the biggest one, the one that had all Greens straining, rearing to get there first, get to the disinfected buildings with their white lab coats and whiter surfaces, face masks and sterilised gloves, pointy needes and empty promises of "no pain".

A knock on my door, and my grin turns into a scowl. Trust Seth to break up my happy daydream.

"Come in." After not hearing any sound other than the thump of my heartbeat and the small voices in my head, the sound my vocal chords produce seems strangely loud in the silence.

Seth's head pokes in. Just as I expected. I move into a sitting position. We both open our mouths.

"What time's your Recoloring?"

"How's the ankle?"

Two questions, at the same time. We stop for a minute and decide to answer.

"1300-"

"Absolutely-"

Then we remember our manners.

"You first.

"You first."

Then we stop again, slightly affronted, and meet each other's eyes. And we break into spasms of unexplainable laughter. Such a nice sound...I almost forgot we could make them.

"Heh...Hah...ahem. Okay, Kreuls first."

"Mine's at 1300 hours."

"Cool. So's mine."

We both manage that much, before finding something or the other in the statement to start laughing again. We subside after several drawn-out breaths for direly-needed oxygen.

"My ankle's fine."

I smile. It feels good to push away the complications and just enjoy the simple joys of laughing at nothing.

"Great."

I move over in silent invitation as he settles down on the bed next to me. The whole bed sinks down uncharacteristically.

"Man, you're heavy!" My exaggerated exclamation, complete with the widened eyes and hand to mouth, causes him to look over and feign dramatic hurt.

"Lia! A jibe at my weight! You wound me!" Then he counters, devilish eyes flashing with suppressed giggles.

"Hey!" I yell, childish indignation wrestles with the overwhelming urge to laugh, again. I punch him in the stomach, uncaring of how feeble it is, enjoying his mouth opening and closing in shock like a fish. He looks down at where I made contact and looks up again, eyes narrowing.

"You /will/ pay!" He shouts determinedly, as we proceed to land blows on each other in a way that would greatly disappoint Rade-Kai with their bad placement and pathetic energy. We, weakened by laughing and sporadic warcries, sit back down onto the bed. I seize the opportunity and pin Seth down by sitting on his back. He groans.

"Give in?" I ask.

"Never." I'm bent on cracking his resolve. I twist his free arm around to his back.

"How about now?"

He sighs in defeat.

"I give in."

I get off, but not without having a hearty chuckle at his expense. He mutters something about "courtesy" and "I didn't try hard enough, 'cos you're a Kreul." but I choose to take them as silly excuses.

"You're the one that gave in."

"Whatever."

We look at each other, trying to fake contempt. Then I have an abrupt feeling that someone's watching us. These feelings just come, I've never found an explanation, save that of intuition.

I take a quick glance at the window and stifle the gasp as I recognize the pair of green eyes that look at us, merry over such /nothing/ things, with something akin to hatred. The intensity causes me to turn away quickly, and pretend to Seth that I haven't seen anything.

I stuff the memory to the back of my head, but it keeps coming back to the foreground. That look of pure, molten dislike. In those eyes that had never seemed to register anything before.

Dayn.

2952 words. I so rule.

But still not enough, damn it!

Shall go and continue...tonight.

Anne