The Sixth | Ekko

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Lift this," Ekko instructed, plopping a sack of flour onto the ground in front of Momo. It was the next day, and after some more discussion the night prior, they arranged for him to start training her today.

She arrived at the Firelight hideout not long ago, and he'd taken her to the very top of the tree where he and the Firelights had built a decently sized platform for training purposes. There was a small piece built atop it, lodged against the tree's trunk. It was a little empty room that they had yet to find a purpose for. The wooden walls were painted an orange-red, with some colourful doodles scattered across it from the children.

Slivers of sunlight breached cracks in the leafs and branches, cascading shadows and rays of light across the wooden balcony.

Six peered down at the sack as if it were the most intimidating sack of flour known to man. She didn't want to do this. Didn't want Ekko to discover the extent of her weakness.

"Go on," he urged, watching her carefully.

She visibly swallowed and bent down, grabbing a hold of the sack and beginning to lift it. The flour sack was pulled from its slouched position and she managed to lift it off the ground a slight amount, but with obvious difficulty.

Ekko gaped down at her in disbelief. The sack weighed barely anything, which was why he picked it.

"What the fuck—"

She let go of the sack and avoided looking in his direction.

"How could you let yourself get this bad?" he asked incredulously. This was beyond weakness. This was like having hardly any muscle mass at all.

She struggled to form a response. The truth would take too long and would be too difficult for her to talk about anyway.

"That's... That's none of your concern..."

"Don't give me that crap. I've never seen someone this weak before. A kid can lift this—" He kicked the flour sack. "—and yet you can't. Are you—are you sick or something?"

Her head shot up and she looked at him with wide eyes.

"No—No I'm not sick," she said, becoming defensive.

"Then how—"

"It's just difficult for me to build muscle mass, okay?" she admitted, eyes straying from him.

He stepped closer to her and hesitated more than he should've before placing a hand on her shoulder.

She kept her gaze fixed on the wooden floorboards beneath their feet.

"Then... That means you are sick, aren't you?" he whispered, tone suddenly soft rather than its original harshness.

She shook her head. "I—I'm okay—really—I am. It just takes a lot more effort for me to gain muscle."

He let out a sigh and dropped his hand from her shoulder. "I guess we have a lot of work ahead of us then, huh?"

"Is it even worth the effort?" she asked. "Working so hard and achieving so little results seems pointless."

He went silent for several seconds. "When did you become such a pessimist?"

Six hugged herself, fingers gripping the sleeves of her jacket. "When everything went to shit, I guess."

He drew a sharp breath and stepped forward again, this time doing something that surprised even him. He tucked his gloved hand under her chin, curling a finger underneath it and using it to tilt her head upwards, giving her no choice but to look at him.

Her eyes went wide as they met his.

"It's not all bad, is it?" he said, expression softening.

Six didn't know what to do. They were being vulnerable with one another. She wasn't good with vulnerability, let alone with someone who she'd sworn she'd hate until the end of time.