Meliora - Extricate - 33

[lady_mab]

Zoné Altair

Our Christmas celebrations get off to a slow start without Jun’s energy to guide us. Even though this would have been her first year as part of our holiday festivities, we all notice her absence.

Over the last few months, she’s become an integral part of us.

“I feel kinda bad that we’re doing our traditional shenanigans without Jun here…” Beat comments from where he stands at the sink. He takes the cup that I hand to him, rinsing off the suds and passing it over to Glen to dry.

There’s a moment where I can’t muster the strength for a proper reply. The breath flutters and stutters in my chest. Take two brings a smile to my face and I turn it towards him. “She’s spending it with her family.”

“As really, we should all be,” Mal chimes in from across the room.

Ayumu makes a dramatic sound and flourishes his hands for extra flair. “I thought we were a family?”

Glen glances at me from around Beat when I don’t maintain the smile long enough. He knows that something is up. I haven’t found a way to explain to him what happened on the twenty-second. He’s smart enough to see through my flimsy excuse for my head injury.

He just doesn’t know what to pinpoint as the problem.

Jun and I haven’t talked much since that night. We sat mostly in silence in the hospital until we both drifted off to sleep, the steady beeping of the machines tracking her vitals providing a constant reminder of what had happened.

Lysander came back in the morning and waited with us until Jun’s uncle came to pick her up. He was surprisingly calm despite her condition. But it wasn’t enough to disguise the tension as they spoke in rapid Mandarin with the nurse from the night before.

Their constant glances back at Lysander and myself was a clear indication that they were talking about us. Probably commenting on how shitty a job we did of looking out for her.

In the texts that followed, Jun and I agreed that she would stay home for our upcoming Christmas party. Her arm was injured pretty badly, and there was no excuse we could come up with to explain it to the others. I knew my friends would write off my head injury due to my accident-prone self.

Still, Jun manages to make her presence felt at our gathering when her cousin, Lily, appears at my door with a basket containing six packages of brownies and cookies.

“Jun is home with a bad cold,” Lily explains when the others ask for news of our missing chef. “But she wanted me to bring these to you.” She smiles in a way that means she very clearly came to scope out just who all of her cousin’s friends are.

Each package of cookies comes with its own personal letter.

To me, she writes, Please don’t feel bad about what happened. I told you I could take care of myself and I didn’t. That’s my own fault. I hate to see you blaming yourself. Remember that I’m forever thankful for you being by my side in this game. I’ll be better after the holidays, promise!

Everyone keeps the contents of their letters a secret. We all have our own relationships with Jun.

After most of the sweets are consumed, along with copious amounts of hot chocolate, tea, or coffee, we’re finally ready to embark out into the cold.

Last night brought on the first snow of the season. It continued to pile up throughout the day until it formed a crisp, even layer on the street. We all pull on our warmest jackets, gloves, hats, and scarves before tumbling out onto the walkway of my apartment building. The cold saps away whatever comfy warmth we gathered inside, but it’s not enough to deter us.

Robbie grips the railing and leans over to study the scene below. Then he turns and looks up at the icicles forming and the hazy sun that fights for control despite the late hour. The streetlights are already beginning to turn on.

He reels himself back in and turns to face us.

There’s a beat, the tension thick, each of us waiting for the call.

“Last one to the street gets snow shoved down his pants!” Robbie shouts, and pushes through the middle of us on his mad dash to the stairs.

A strange chorus of shouts leave us and the next thing I know, there’s six boys trying not to slip and slide as we rush down to the street.

It’s hard to tell who arrives last, as we all spill into the snow at the same time. Robbie claims victory and tosses a hastily made snowball at Mal.

The temperature is low enough that the snow hasn’t started to melt yet. Our footfalls are the first, as the rest of the block made the sensible choice to stay in on this snowy Christmas. Which, of course, means more for us.

I’m creating an arsenal of snowballs when Glen ropes an arm around my neck and tugs me away. “Ack! Hey! Stop, or Beat’s going to steal my collection.” I struggle against his grip, but am more concerned with keeping my footing than I am trying to get away.

“Snowman times, bro,” he counters. He pulls me to a ‘safe’ distance away, casting a glance around at the others before relinquishing his grip. “And if you don’t tell me what happened, I will shove your face into the snow.”

“Don’t know what you mean,” I say, attempting innocence. He knows I know what he means, which is the worst part, but I have to at least feign ignorance. I drop down into a crouch and start to scoop layers of white fluff into a pile. “What is happening is that you stole me away from the epic snowball fight of the year.”

Glen grits his teeth, though any scathing response is put on hold as he turns his head away to give in to a coughing fit.

I immediately stop putting on the act and squint up at him. His skin is paler than usual, which makes the bags under his eyes stand out in the failing light of the day. We have only about an hour of sun left before we’ll need to make due with streetlights alone. “Forget about what happened to me. You look like shit, man.”

He waves off the concern and tugs his scarf closer. “I just got a cold after we went in for the most recent shots. No biggie.” He points a gloved hand in my face and I smack it away. “You normally give me a status update after events. This time: Nothing. Lysander and Jonas haven’t said anything either.”

Jonas… That’s the name of the man who came to visit Jun at the hospital. My brother’s Informant. Glen probably only knows him because of Jun. With the way Jonas reacted to Lysander, it was obvious that he wasn’t the connecting factor.

Something settles in and forces out the bone-chilling cold of the snow. It’s a different brand of unease in the pit of my stomach. “So this isn’t so much that we’re not telling you the truth of what happened than it is--”

“I’m fucking worried!” He flings his hands to the side, then drops down next to me when the others turn to look. Glen starts to pat the snow in a half-hearted attempt to help. He only flattens the start of my snowman base into a plateau. “I was seriously worried about what could have happened to the two of you. I had no way of knowing what went on without you telling me. All I had was my team’s feedback. And I didn’t want to push you, but…” He swallows down words before he can choke on them. His gloved hand leaves a divot in the snow when he tries to shake himself.

I study his profile, hoping to pick up some clues as to what he’s not telling me. “You know you’re allowed to ask us anything, right? I’m pretty sure we had a whole discussion about how Jun and Lysander and I are here for you and all that--”

Glen shakes his head and closes his eyes. He looks so tired, like it’s a serious effort to keep himself together. “It’s just that…” His fingers find a small pebble beneath the snow and he toys with it before tossing it far away. “I thought that my team was punished for cheating. That they saw these monsters and had the fear of ALICE put into them. But something happened to the two of you that I think might be connected…”

Behind us, the others are carrying on with their snowball fight. I want to move to them, to avoid this conversation like I have so many others. Only Glen wants to have this talk, and I told him that I would listen.

“Define cheating,” I finally ask. I want him to tell me about the monsters, but I’m also trying to push the memory of them as far as possible.

He’s still not looking at me. “Found some way to manipulate their points or something like that. Don’t really know how much good it’s doing them, since we’ve just been given lots of small easy tasks, but… I told them that it’s probably cheating. They haven’t knocked it off, and so they were…” Glen makes a swinging motion with his fist towards his cheekbone. “Colton’s got a black eye now.”

I can hear the amusement in his tone as he thinks about what happens to the teammates he doesn’t like. But I can’t muster up a smile to return to him.

Any trace of cheer immediately leaves him and his eyes narrow. “You saw them too, didn’t you? The monsters?”

My mouth opens, shuts, then opens again. I don’t know what to tell him, so I nod.

“What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Not yet. We got hurt, but we’re okay.”

“Okay?” His gaze flickers to my head, still bandaged, and I can only imagine what sort of scenarios he is cooking up for what happened to Jun. “That is okay?”

I rise to my feet and dig my heels into the ground. Anything to keep myself from kicking at the snow pile in frustration. “For now: Yeah. Compared to what could have happened: Definitely.”

I don’t want to have to tell him what happened without Jun being here. He needs to be able to see Jun to know that she’s okay, because my words won’t be enough.

Glen bites his lip, gaze shifting to our friends. His body leans forward, but he doesn’t seem to realize what he’s doing. I know he doesn’t care much for his team, being roped in by two coworkers that were never really his friends.

But he took on a responsibility, the same that Lysander took on for Jun and me. The same that Jonas has for his team, and that Kaito has for the Darcy siblings. He is responsible for his team’s success in this screwed up game.

I’m starting to realize more and more just how Lysander might be feeling about being an Informant for two students. He’s my Culture and Evolution teacher, sure, but our relationship has gone beyond that. Just like with Jun.

We’re not sweet on each other, but friends is too weak a word.

We’re partners. We have an unbreakable trust. And Lysander keeps us in the running and keeps us safe.

Glen must feel the same way about his own team -- and to an extent, Jun and me. His concern goes beyond the fact that we are in the same cluster of friends. He can’t be our Informant, but knowing that we are participating in the same game must still add some pressure to keep tabs on us the best that he can.

“I’m sorry,” I say before I can stop myself. “I’m sorry we can’t tell you, but we’re okay. I promise.”

His lips press into a thin line. “I know,” he mutters after a long pause. “It’s just… I honestly thought something awful happened to the two of you.”

Something did, but we made it back. That’s the important part. “Lysander would have told you if something did.”

“I know. Except when the moment happens, it’s not exactly the reassuring thoughts that cross my mind.”

I force out a huff of laughter, and a cloud of mist hovers in front of my face to obscure my view of him.

“Jun’s really okay?” His voice is small, cautious.

“She’s really okay. She made us cookies, didn’t she?”

This is answer enough. He accepts this and shifts in his crouch to resume forming the base of the snowman.

Before I can make any further comment, a shock of cold hits the back of my head. I yelp, squirming and nearly losing my balance on the frozen ground.

Glen glances up at my cry just in time to see Beat catch me from behind. Beat locks my arms in his to keep me from twisting free. “Gossipping ninnies!”

“Time for a snowy punishment!”

“Hey-- stop it!” By the time I can catch up to what is happening, I realize that Glen has been captured by Mal.

Ayumu and Robbie, the skinnier members of our group, prowl around us. Their shadows stretch across the snow at our feet, the sun finally ducking below the row of buildings. “You missed out on the entire snowball fight.”

“Our winter tradition!”

“To stand aside and whisper to each other.” Ayu delivers the lines like he’s on stage, placing all the right pauses and accents. It’s more than a little intimidating, despite the fact that I have a few inches on him in height.

“For shame,” Robbie echoes, the sinister shadow.

They pace like gangsters, holding handfuls of snow instead of bats or shovels or cement shoes.

“Okay, c’mon you guys--” Glen attempts.

Ayumu moves with lightning quick speed and rounds on Glen with a manic cackle, delivering a handful of snow to his face.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” My voice jumps an octave as I renew my attempt at freeing myself. Glen’s hacking cough and swearing punctuates my struggle. “I wanted to participate! It’s all Glen’s fault!”

“Traitor!” Glen shouts, voice hoarse. He’s been released, and wipes the snow from his chin. “You deserve whatever is coming to you!”

Some sort of shrill cry escapes me as Robbie launches his attack, and the shock of cold is enough to chase away the heavy conversation from my mind. This I can handle -- pretending like nothing is wrong, carrying on with my friends.

Glen’s grin as he bends down to scoop up a handful of snow is enough to release me from the seriousness of the moment, and we dissolve into laughter. The second round of a snowball fight begins as the last of the sun fades into the street lights.

Previous | Masterpost | Next