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

Chapter 3: uncalled for


After Roll Call, we're scheduled, by Aeon, to have a free block, just before Recoloring. They're the ones who spend hours of hard work on our timetables.

I break into a small run, while tapping in 7-2-3-8-5. Seth's tracking code. What we always do to make sure we make it to the edge of the Central Area together. I hear, with a slight satisfaction, a continuous little buzzing noise near me. On my left side, slightly behind. Seth's catching up.

Just like when we were Reds, with our little Red Fingers, we'd compete (the three of us) on who'd touch the cool metal bar first. It was so...Red-like to do such a thing. Now I find myself looking down on it. But, as my body dictates my mind, I still rush through the crowd, ducking past clucking Yellows, whispering Greens, Blues checking their new Rulebooks and Reds doing the same thing I'm doing. I find myself almost smiling.

Dayn's already there, leaning against the rail not unlike the way Faern was, coolly checking her grey shirt for any signs of the slightest wrinkle (there isn't any). She looks up at the sound of sneakers and their slight squeaking.

“You got your shoes washed?”

An unconventional friend, with the strangest conversation starters.

I nod the affirmative. Seth huffs up behind me, pursing his lips after he realizes (for the millionth time) that I beat him. Again. He thinks it's a matter of skill, so he practices a lot. What he doesn't get, is that it's a matter of how you run. If you run and flash grins to everyone you cut in front of, not to mention saying “excuse me” and avoiding Blunders, you get, very quickly, to your destination in hardly anytime at all. Seth, king of Blunders and Discourtesy, has yet to learn these essential steps to moving faster through crowds.

“I left them outside and they got cleaned. Same as always.”

“But you put in that little tab for special cleaning cases. The one that specifies special cleaning of the soles of all things?”

“Hey hey! Nothing's wrong with getting things cleaner!”

“But something so stupid as to clean the soles of the shoes you're going to run on dirty floors with?”

The regular bickering of trivial matters. Seth breaks off, as he does, after a short exchange. He doesn't have the stamina, the same with his running, to keep up with a cool-headed Dayn. Arguing with her, it makes you feel like you're throwing silly cliches and hopeless silly Red-speak that bounce off her cool exterior. She may talk a lot, but she gives the odd impression that she's stoic.

It must be something with the fact that she talks, but appears never to listen. Maybe she really doesn't.

Right now, she realizes one of her two friends is spacing out on her. She says so.

“Lia? You're spacing out on me.”

Straight and to the point. Not a question, for there was no need for one. This was a statement of facts.

In retrospect, I've realized that the two friends I was dumped with, at the start of my Blue Days, wouldn't have been my first choices on any list. Nowhere, nowhere was there a Form, a dotted line that I signed on for an eternal subscription to Death by Mad Friends.

“Yes, Dayn-Kreul?” My face feigns indifference though my traitorous lips upturn. Very, very slightly.

“We are not going to spend our free block just standing around right?” Her voice holds nothing, no distaste, no scorn, but her derisive eyebrow that raises slightly, that little downturn of the lip, shows everything.

The question, like her other ones (“Are you really that stupid?” or “Why are you smiling?” or “Let's go out and make miscellaneous Trangressions just for the fun of it.”), demands no answer. She'll come up with an answer for her own question either way. But for this particular question, there is only one plausible answer. This question, while literally, merely asks whether we would like to waste our time, also asks a subtler question of where else to go to. And to answer that, there's only one other thing we can do, only one place that we can go to together.

She takes our silence as the answer she would have liked to hear.

“We better not be.”

I lift my body from its slouching position on the cool banister. My knees make that creaking, clicking noises I've gotten used to.

“Faern isn't here.”

Dayn's oddly perceptive mind manifests itself in her abrupt sentence, with its hint of amusement. I smile. Faern-Kai hates the sound. My ears can almost hear the soft, yet deadly voice (“Weakness, all weakness. You want to go to Aphrodite? You want to waste your time? You better not.”), with its measured tone, and she quavers, with anger and the effort of keeping herself from shouting.

I notice Dayn doesn't use the customary “honourific” suffix when she refers to Faern-Kai. The only person I've heard her call by that name is Sai-Kai, her rarely-seen Coach, the best Yellow Jumper. Sai-Kai. She will be Relocated by the end of Recoloring. Dayn would never let on it, but she would miss her.

“Is it okay?”

She turns her full attention to Seth, who is currently resting his left heel on the silver rail, seeming to look at his ankle with discomfort and anxiety. Whatever his attention was on, it was immediately diverted as Dayn's innate ability to attract attention, whether intentionally or not, came into play.

She accompanies her words with a careless gesture vaguely in the direction of his leg. She's never one for showing concern (or affection, or hatred, or...any feeling really.) so it's always a little bit awkward. Normally, no one else can see that twinge of upset in her expressions. But if you've watched her for as long as I have, searching it for a hint of recognition of yourself, laughter in the corners of eyes and lips, fatigue yet rugged determination during any combined Physical Training, any slips in her facade that could remind me that she was as human as...I was.

Seth seems surprised, and immediately lifts his foot from its precarious perch and smiles evasively. He has the air of a Red trying to cover up an inevitably uncovered Trangression.

“Oh, just another nothing ache. Aye Okay.”

“You sure you don't want to go t-”

“No!”

The exclamation shocks all three of us, maybe Seth most of all. It reverberates around the Central Area, which has become deserted as quickly as it filled, the silence cracked by that single noise. Seth hastily rectifies his mistake, his hand jumping to his hair to pull it uneasily.

“I mean...umm...I'd rather not?”

The sentence comes out like a question. The two of us Kreuls pick it up immediately. Dayn's eyes narrow. As do mine.

“You said so.”

My voice comes, after it was silenced for the past few minutes, making everyone turn to me again.

“And she speaks!”

Seth says, effectively removing the attention away from himself.

Dayn raises her eyebrows slightly. In that, I translate it into a plea to the Gods what she did to deserve such friends. In fact, that's a question I ask myself every day.

Seth, understandable. We were the two misfits, the two who didn't bother much about the things every other Kreul and Krono jumped at, the two, who whether because of an acute lack of courage, or because of sheer laziness, who didn't concern themselves with who they sat together with in Academics, or who they were with in Training. We were the last two marbles in a bowl that just kept rolling towards each other, clacking a few times, and ultimately stopping at the bottom, irrevocably together in the end. It was hardly by choice, yet all by choice at the same time. The moment we made the choice that we weren't going to care about friends, we signed our one-way ticket to each others' company.

Dayn is more complicated, Never have I tried to fool myself that I understand why she chose our presence to grace. I suppose she was drawn to us for the same reason she is drawn to what she does. She lives for the thrill and the excitement almost as much as she lives for Jumping and her Coach. She probably picked us for a wholly different reason I picked Seth. She picked us, possibly, probably, because we were a challenge. And Dayn-Kreul does not give up a challenge.

Faint calling raises me from the depths of musing. Dayn waves at me irritably. I break into a slight Run as naturally as I breathed out a sigh. Then something catches my eye, From behind, while Seth does not lag behind Dayn's disappearing back, I can see that he's limping.


We head for the only place that we can go to together. As we're from different events, we don't have the same KeyCards. Seth and I can access the Training Centres, as Dayn can too. But we can't get into the Mat Area and Dayn can break into our Training Sessions at the Running Track.

Training Centre 5 sits, like a greyhound on its haunches, ready to spring, on the intersection of many small roads. As it is one of the least-frequented place in Olympus, we are happy to have it mostly to ourselves, on most days. Which gave us a pretty good percentage of days when we were the only people there. Some people said that was where Whities (I shudder at the word) trained after curfew, but no one knows for sure. I don't like to believe it.

As its unfavourable position, the furthest Training Centre from most Training locations, including the Swimming Pools 1 through 5, the Diving Pools 1 and 2, the Gymnasium and the Courts. Which included every single type of Court you needed. Only the Mat Area and the Running Track are remotely close to this Training Centre. Hence our presence being the only one in the Building.

Each Training Centre has the most basic of basic equipment. Specialized equipment can only be found in your respective Training Areas. Treadmills line each East wall, dumbbells and weights on the West wall. Mats, lined two by two, over at the North wall, and windows covering the whole of the South one. The layout was kept strictly the same in every Training Centre. Not that you can move anything anyway. They're bolted to the ground.

Today, the Training Centre is characteristically deserted. Even though there's no one on the centre Treadmills, the ones with a larger variety of distances and speeds, not to mention free Vit-Drink, we head to our usual treadmills, the ones off in the corner near the mats. By sheer force of habit, I take my place at the one tucked furthest into the corner, with Seth and Dayn next to me.

“I'm doing 2. You?”

The dreary, albeit needed, conversation starter, offered by me, is punctuated by my fingers tapping into the monitor the distance and the desired speed.

“Me too. At 16 per hour?”

I shrug. Dayn's fingers dance on the touchpad in front of her.

“Might as well. Seth?”

Seth ignores my question and stares pointedly at his ankle, as if berating it for some unknown reason. His forehead is a mass of lines as if he's tackling one of those terrible problems we get in Academics that has him swearing at Athena, the Gods in general, our teacher Rina-Kai, or anything he can find to pin the blame on.

“Olympus to Seth! Seth-Krono! A response would be appreciated.”

He's shaken effectively from his reverie after my second remark.

“Hmm? Oh yeah. Sure!”

His abrupt response, the two quick flick of the head up, the slight pained expression that's immediately wiped away, makes me cock an eyebrow at him questioningly. He seems to think that I can't see through his "disguise". After being with him for the last 5 years, I'd thought he'd think more of me than that. After all, I can still remember that limp that he had not fifteen minutes ago.

"You sure you're alright? I mean, you can always sit out-"

"I'm fine okay?"

His nostrils flare slightly, as if daring me to question his decision further. His green eyes narrow into a uncharacteristic stare. He looks like an animal, wanting to lick it's own wounds.

I shrug. I decide that I'll leave him be this once. I press the "Start" Button, listening to the whir of the machine as it starts up. The rubbery surface under me mechanically heaves my weight backwards. I lapse into my trance-like state reserved just for running. Two more identical whirs, one after the other, start next to me, as well as the comforting thump-thump-thump from my two friends.

Were they friends? I find myself hesitating on that word more than once today. What else could I call them? Acquaintances? No. That seemed to formal for the casual relationship we had of looks and smiles and the chatter. Compatriots? No, that was better, but still not the correct word. Then almost by mistake, I stumble over the next word.

"Companions."

This fits us to the T. We aren't just passing people who know each others' names and a bit of bio-data. It's safe to say that I've known Seth for as long as I've been in Olympus, at least give or take a few days. Dayn joined us about mid-way through that year, at our first joint-Training with the Jumpers.

"Lia? What companions?"

It takes me a while to realize that I said that out loud. I bend my head slightly, keeping my eyes on my feet, moving slowly, surely.

"Oh. Nothing."

Dayn looks at me with eyes that remind me of Faern's hawk-like gaze.

"Okay..."

Her tone makes me certain that she doesn't believe me, but she's letting it pass. Just like how I let Seth's evasive words go, to prevent the hassle.

The treadmill begins to get ahead of me. My foot almost slips of the edge of the machine. With that little mistake, my heartbeat quickens as I berate myself for losing concentration.

Silence falls over Training Centre 5, save the noise of the treadmills and the beating of feet, each with its own rhythm. I smile at the familiarity of the situation. Just like always.

I've gotten so used to the monotone of Training Centre 5 that, when I hear a softened bump of a back against the unforgiving, hard floor, my head whips around so fast that I give myself a crick in the neck. The noise bounces around the room, echoing despite the fact that it wasn't very loud. the groan that follows it does the same.

"Seth!" Dayn's reflexes and customary good grip on unforeseen situations immediately bring her to our injured friend's (I hastily correct myself), companion's, side, unheeding of her treadmill continuing to move.

Seth lies on the ground, eyes staring up at the ceiling. I see them following the crack on it, up to the North Wall, and down to the South Wall. He can't believe it. He's as surprised as we are, really. I feel the tense situation is in dire need of one of his quips. The trouble is, he can't make a wise-crack in the position he's in (breathing hard, chest rising and falling erratically). I feel the responsibility fall to me.

"For the life of me, I've never seen such a stubborn fool like you." I interject, shaking my head. I'm strangely unconcerned. After all, he's the one to blame, if anyone, for this.

Dayn flicks her head around and glares at me for my indifference. I wisely keep quiet (something Seth would never learn to do). Seth's eyes catch mine, something in them dancing with amusement that's both heartening and somewhat irritating to see. I give him a lopsided smirk and scout around for something to occupy myself with. I have the sudden urge to do something.

My eyes come to a rest on the treadmills, their rubber tarp still revolving. I slap my hand on all three "stop" buttons in one swoop. The room quietens immediately. The silence, unlike the comfortable one before this, is still thick with unease. I need to break it, whether with a helpful statement or not.

"Shall I get Aphrodite to send a medic?"

My hand's already retrieved my InterCom by this time, thumb over the speed dial number of Aphrodite.

Dayn presses her lips together in thought. I can literally see her mind spinning with musing and thinking. A medic would be helpful in a situation like this.-I'm not sure if Aphrodite will be done with him in time for Recoloring!-Dayn-Kreul does not ask for help!-There'll be the hassle of procedure and formalities after this-We'd have to secure a Special Circumstance Form verified by Faern and Jace (the deliberately left-out suffix is glaring).-Which would be tougher than forging their signature-Arguably, yes.

It pleases me to see that my interpretation of her mind was not such a far cry from reality. She turns her head away, making a decision in her next movement. She pulls his outstretched hand, causing him to struggle into a sitting position.

"Can you stand?" She says louder than necessary, her face seeming to crack with the effort not to show emotion.

Seth shot her a forced grin and transferred his weight almost fully onto his right foot, pushing up with his right hand. His left claws for further support and leverage, which I quickly give him. I tighten my grip and haul him up, looping his arm around my shoulders. meanwhile, to keep her hands busy, Dayn takes out an unopened packet of Vit-Drink and 3 Meta-Pills from her pocket. She thrusts them at Seth.

"You sure?"

His first words come out raspy and hoarse, as if he'd screamed
for hours. His query not only questions her decision to give them to him (after all, this would deprive her of precious Meta-Pills from her daily ration), it also asks her if she's certain he should eat them, considering that they're an overdose.

She simply pushes them into his free hand and close his fingers over them.

"You need them more than I do."

She seems to disregard the second, subtler meaning behind Seth's words. He shrugs and downs it all in a single gulp, the slosh of the Vit-Drink and the soft clacking of the Pills in his mouth before they're swallowed, are sounds our ears have been aching to hear, sounds that we pick up even when they're small in volume.

His hand's still in mine as we move slowly to the door, each step steadier, more independent of my support. His pulse begins to race with the added power of the Pills in his bloodstream. Dayn follows quickly after, scanning her KeyCard as we leave the room. The doors close, the lights automatically turning themselves off. We leave silently as we came.

It's almost as if we weren't here at all.

Which is the thing that gets me these days. We Greens are so invisible thanks to our "limbo state" as Seth dubbed it. Reds are lost enough to be noticed, Blues loud enough to be heard and Yellows with enough honour to be recognised. My eyes go skyward for the first time today that wasn't because of some smart-aleck comment made by Seth.

I thank the Gods that we're Recoloring today.

--------------------------------------------------------------

This Chapter was happily 3305 words long. All hail Write or Die. xDD

Anne (off to work on...chapter 5!)

NEWS FLASH!

I have changed the names of some of my characters and added a few more (small ones) in.

Danzor-Kreul has been changed to Dayn-Kreul.

Sime-Krono (test subject) has been changed to Halyn-Krono.

Rade-Kai is the Group Supervisor (Purple) of Lia and Seth's Group Building.

Jero and Yuno-Kai are the Yellows in Lia and Seth's Group.

I don't care if you don't like my name choice. I ran out of brain juice.

AND THIS IS PROOF OF TOTAL DIARRHEA ATTACK!

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