Perennial

Chapter 11 -- Perennial

Of course, my good mood does not carry over into the end of the day. Mostly due to the loads of homework we get that night.

It sucks even worse that Psaqua won't let me cheat off of hers. (It's not that I need to in order to get good grades; it's more like I don't want to spend eight hours doing something so mind numbing.) Still, I manage to get everything done to minimal satisfaction within four hours.

It's after I brush my teeth and decide to go to bed that Psaqua says she's going out for a bit.

Going out? I think. I didn't know that was even an option. Isn't there a curfew or something?

"Hot date?" I ask.

Her cheeks redden. "No."

"Fresh air?"

"Something like that." She opens the door. "I should be back before midnight."

Midnight. Oh yeah, sure, that doesn't sound like you're up to anything at all, Cinderella. Going out for fresh air, my foot.

For a few moments after she leaves, I stare at the door, wondering where she's going.

I suppose I could follow her, I'm good at tailing people, but at this point I'm not sure I should. I'll just ask more about it later, and then follow her if that doesn't work.

Besides, in my new awareness that it's apparently very easy to sneak out past curfew, I'm feeling restless, like maybe I should go for a walk. I might get lost, but from what I've seen of Icarus' grounds, it's mostly just an open field. It's hard to get lost in an open field, unless you are exceptionally stupid, and I would like to think that that is something that I am not.

After a good ten minutes of debating with myself about whether or not it's a good idea to sneak out, I decide to go anyway, slipping out of my room and silently walking down the hall. Years of being raised to be the person I am have taught me to step lightly everywhere I go. At this point, it's become how I move naturally, much to the discomfort of everyone I've accidentally snuck up on.

I take a split second to consider either going up to the roof, or strolling out the front door. I opt for the front door, since it's closer. However, when I try to open it, I note that it's been locked. I briefly wonder why, but the solution is fairly obvious. They don't want any students escaping this way.

Personally, I can't help but wonder what would happen if the dorm somehow caught on fire. How would any of the students get out? However, I refrain from trying to find a way to test the fire safety of Building 4 in favor of not going back to jail.

Not yet wanting to go back to my room, and not wanting to hike up to the roof, I place a hand on the door and close my eyes, using telekinesis to feel my way through the locking mechanism. I smile when I hear a faint click, and push the door open.

The cool autumn air bites at my hands and cheeks, but I don't care. As I step out, I look to the stars, and briefly wish that I had taken the time to memorize which of them belong to what constellations.

My father has tried to teach me about them before, but I've never retained the information. I briefly wonder if he or anyone else in my family is looking up at these same stars right now. I wonder if while I look at the stars and think of them, they look at the stars and think of me.

Do they even know where I am? Last they knew, I was arrested and probably taken to Midas, not a government training facility. Do they even care that I'm missing? Are they trying to think of a way to get me out of here?

I close my eyes tight. No. They aren't. They can't be.

I squash whatever hope that had just tried to build itself inside me. They won't come for me. It's not... not logical, I guess. It'd be a waste of resources, especially since I'm capable of taking care of myself. Eventually, I will be able to get out of this mess on my own.

It's a harsh truth, I guess, but it's true nonetheless.

The Overlord won't waste resources rescuing his own daughter from their enemies. It may sound callous, but it's for the best. Even if he was going to come for me, I wouldn't want him to. It'd be too dangerous. It hurts a little to think about it, so I try not to.

A lump rises in my throat, but again, I shove my emotions down.

It's not a healthy way of dealing with my emotions, I know, but it's how I taught myself to cope, a long time ago. (I was much more emotional as a child. My teen years so far have mostly been a journey of learning how to let go of my emotions, and not let them rule over me.)

A faint wind rustles the trees and blows my hair out of my face. (There are so many trees here, bordering the open field that most of the Academy is built on. I can feel them all. It's kind of... nice.) I wander without any real purpose, keeping an eye out for Psaqua (not for any particular reason other than I know she's out here somewhere) and sticking to the shadows because that's where I belong, and I have no intention of being caught out here.

I'd rather not get into trouble this early on in the year. (Seriously, though, what's wrong with me? My first week here isn't even over and here I am, breaking the rules in the middle of the night. This year is off to a great start.)

The further away from the main buildings I get, I stumble upon a more overgrown area, one that's littered with what looks like the ruins of... something. All that's left are scattered concrete structures here and there. A few of them have targets graffitied on them.

What is this? Some old, abandoned bunker? In the still of the night, it almost feels... haunting. Right now, though, haunting feels good. I wander deeper into the field, reveling in the silent stillness.

The grass tickles my ankles. It hasn't been mowed recently.

It smells good, too, all crisp and clean. (Maybe it would smell better if the grass was freshly cut, but the smell of freshly cut grass sometimes gives me headaches, so...)

I reach one of the concrete structures and begin running my warm fingers over the cool stone. Up close, it looks like maybe these aren't ruins at all. They were built for the express purpose of littering this perfectly good field. How wasteful.

I just reach the end of the wall when I begin to sense someone coming. At first, it's just a feeling in the back of my mind, but soon enough I can hear them, too.

Judging by the heavy footsteps followed by rhythmic trotting of a smaller animal, a dog, probably, I'd say it's a guard. I'm panicking, wondering where to hide, when someone else grabs me from behind and drags me behind the concrete barrier.

Deciding that getting in trouble with the school is better than getting murdered and/or raped, I start to let out a scream. A hand clamps over my mouth and my captor whispers in my ear: "Be quiet! I don't want to go back yet either."

The voice is too deep to be Psaqua's, but I still recognize it. I just can't quite remember where I've heard it before.

I remain silent as the guard and his dog pass. Under other circumstances, when I'm prepared for this kind of thing, I would easily take out both the guard and my kidnapper. But right now my mind is all over the place. I'm unfocused, unprepared. (Not to mention, taking out a guard when I'm trying not to go back to jail would be ill-advised.)

The moment the guard is gone, my captor relaxes his grip on me and I take my chance. Since he has given me no momentum to work with, I use the help of my telekinesis to flip him over my head and slam him to the floor. Immediately afterward, I manipulate the grass to twine together and grow long enough to tie my assailant down. (Grass doesn't do that naturally, but on the other hand, grass also does whatever I want it to, so there.)

I bring back one of my hands to punch whoever has dared sneak up on me.

He seems to phase right through my makeshift ropes, which is not fair in any way. He's on his feet in a matter of seconds. My opponent is much larger than me, but it's not like size has ever stopped me before. (Everyone is larger than me.) I re-aim my fist and throw an impressive punch that would have made the Overlord proud. Except for the part where my opponent catches my wrist and then grabs the other one, using them to hold my arms still, restraining my movement. Fortunately, my legs are still free.

I'm about to kick him in the crotch when he twists me around so my legs face the wrong way. His arms wrap around me and he lifts me off the ground as I continue kicking and squirming.

"Calm down!" He hisses in my ear. "It's just me. Aether. I didn't mean to freak you out; I'm not going to hurt you. Why do you keep trying to hurt me?"

"You snuck up on me! What are you even doing out here?!" I hiss through my teeth, still struggling.

"I could ask you the same thing!" He quips, setting me down.

"I needed fresh air to clear my head! What's your excuse? You're the headmaster's son! You should know better!" I whirl around to face him.

"Are you implying that you don't know any better?"

"Yes." I catch myself. "No. Just answer my question!"

"I'm here because I like going for walks. By myself. At night," he says haltingly.

"Right. Of course you do."

I move to step away from him, just to get back into my personal space bubble and out of his, but I step on an uneven stone and trip backwards.

"Are you okay?" He asks, holding out a hand in case I need it.

"Fine." I growl, regaining balance and then eyeing him warily. "Is this normal for you? To do something against the rules?"

Even though I can barely see his body language in the dark, I can tell he's guilty. "Maybe..."

"Hey," I say, trying to set him at ease, "I won't tell if you don't."

He nods. "Deal."

"So... what is this place?" I ask, trying to avoid an awkward silence.

"It's the practice range. We use it for training drills and occasionally outdoor sports like capture the flag, but mostly we use it for kids that need more space in order to better develop their abilities."

"Abilities such as...?"

"Geokinesis, Aerokinetics if they're learning to fly, gravity manipulators, kids making their first wormholes, and pretty much any kid who wants to test the range of their abilities. Like the ones with that disintegration ability or electrokinesis. Chlorokinesis, too, probably." He tags on that last part as a quick afterthought.

"What about telekinesis?" I suggest, dryly.

I still can't see his face, but his voice sounds like he's smiling. "I guess. We haven't had any telekinetics for years. I've never even seen telekinesis in person. Why? Are you telekinetic?"

I laugh, struggling to make it sound natural so he won't get suspicious. "I'm just curious. We both know that I'm classified a Type 2 PM, pyrokinesis and telepathy. But... what about you? What about your powers?"

If he notices how desperate I am to change the subject, he doesn't say anything.

I'm hoping he has at least one mental power, even if it's not telepathy, just so that I have a way to justify how his mind feels. It isn't right to be around someone without getting a sense of what's going on in their mind.

"Me? I'm a... a Type 3 PI." He shrugs.

"Aerokinesis?" I guess. "And... your Internalized power is density shifting, isn't it? That's how you escaped my ropes."

Internalized powers, abbreviated "I" are part of the PIN ME Classification System DSHA uses for categorizing our powers. All the categories in order are Psychokinesis (P), Internalized Powers (I), Interactive Powers (N), Mental Powers (M), and Externalized Powers (E). It's not the best system for classifying powers, but it works in a pinch.

He nods. "Yeah. Both of those. My third power is photokinesis, which is the one you can bend light with. So... I can turn invisible and... stuff."

"Can you create any illusions, you know, mirages?" I ask, genuinely curious. There was a famous photokinetic way back in the day, when my mémé was a young woman. He was called the Illusionist, sometimes even the Grand Illusionist. He was known for, you guessed it, his illusions. He always seemed pretty awesome to me, at least, awesome for someone who used to work for DSHA.

"Yeah, but they look best on a flat surface. It's a lot harder to create 3-D images."

"I can imagine." I glance up at the stars, unsure what to say next. It's starting to get awkward, and I wish I hadn't run into Aether here in the first place. A ripple of wind rushes past us, tangling my hair and making us shiver in the chill. The air smells like pine and the beginning of autumn, like dead leaves and bare trees. It's only a matter of time until my chlorokinesis will sort of... shut off for the season. I never like winter all that much. It makes me feel tired all the time. I wonder how soon it'll be until it snows.

"So..." Aether rubs the back of his neck. "During ET today... with Tenacity..."

"She was being a jerk for no reason. People like that just... get under my skin." I huff and look away. "It's not like you were doing or saying anything."

He takes a deep breath. "I wasn't doing or saying anything because I just don't think it's worth the fight. And... I understand where she's coming from, kind of. I think she came from an abusive home before DSHA found her. Sometimes she feels like she needs to take out her anger on other people. It's better that she targets me than someone who might actually get hurt or worse, someone who will try to get even with her."

He probably means someone like me. I shake my head slowly, tilting by head back to look up at him again. "No. She needs to learn it's not okay to act like that, not even if she comes from an abusive home. She shouldn't be taking it out on anyone."

"I... you're right. But how?"

I pause, and then shrug. "It's not really our job, is it?"

Aether shakes his head. "I don't know."

"Why did she call you ghost?" I blurt.

"Remember what my powers are?"

Flying, turning invisible, and walking through walls. "Oh."

He releases a breath. "Yeah."

There's a stilt in our conversation where neither of us really want to look at each other. I'm beginning to plot out strategies of how I will make my escape from this conversation when he finally speaks up.

"You did well during ET today. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Images flash across my mind of all the years in training with my brother and cousin.

"A self-defense class." It's technically not a lie.

"It must've been a very aggressive self-defense class."

I cast him a sideways glance, amused. "Yes, it was. It kind of had to be. The world operates very aggressively, if you haven't noticed."

There's a heartbeat of silence, and all I can hear is the rustling of the wind through tress echoed by our breathing. Then he speaks again, his voice low, as if he thinks someone may be listening to our conversation.

"Can you tell me more? I - I'm not outside Icarus very often. When I am, it's usually at my grandparent's house out in the lake country, so I'm more of a country mouse than a town mouse. Not that I don't know what's going on in the world! It's just -"

I place a hand on his arm to get him to shut up. I'm surprised to find that instead of feeling the stiff uniform I was expecting, my hand lands on soft fabric.

He's out here in his pajamas, just like me.

"Relax. I understand. Knowing something is happening is different from living through that something." I pause, "Though, to be perfectly honest with you, I'm probably not the best person to ask if you want a complete, unbiased picture of what it's like out there."

"No, that's fine. I want to hear it from your point of view."

I shrug. "It's nothing fantastic. There are good people, and there are bad people. Bad people make it hard for good people to be good. Good people try to be good anyway."

"And bad people force good people into situations that force them to choose between people they love and freedom?"

I freeze. "What?"

He scoffs. "Don't think I didn't notice we were all talking about you during breakfast. Who was it that you set that school on fire for?"

I shrink away from him. "Does it matter?"

"Perennial," He steps a little closer - to get a better look at me, I think - and says, "You weren't just an average super-human criminal, were you?"

"What is average?" I laugh nervously and fall back on my trusty weapon: philosophy, to deflect his spot-on comment. "Average would be normal, correct? And since every individual is unique, every criminal is not average, wouldn't you say?"

Aether is silent for a moment, then he leans forward and whispers conspiratorially, "You're a mastermind, aren't you?"

The statement is so sudden, it strikes me as ridiculous. I burst out laughing. Real, genuine laughter. "Me? A mastermind? Have you met me?"

"Well, it doesn't seem too far-fetched!" he says, defensively. "You do seem to be pretty smart."

Aether, you're a boy after my own heart, but flattery will get you nowhere. "Well, thank you, but I'm way too lazy to be a mastermind."

"I think you're just trying to make it look as if you're too lazy to be a mastermind," he says confidently. "That's what masterminds always do."

I roll my eyes. "Not always."

Hating to kill our lighthearted mood, but also knowing we need to sleep at some point, I begin walking back the way I came. Aether follows.

We make it back soon enough. We part ways in front of Building 4. We bid each other goodnight, and I sneak back inside.

The warm air inside the building comforts my icy skin. My cheeks hurt from smiling and my mind is abuzz with the thought that I just spoke with a boy whom I'm not related to and actually isn't scared of me. It's strange, and I'm not sure how to feel about it. The only thing I do know is I'm not used to it. At all.

I slip back into my room, and breathe a sigh of relief when Psaqua isn't back. (The last thing I need is to be interrogated.)

I throw myself onto the bottom bunk, and sink into the soft mattress. (One of the few perks of being here.)

Slowly, the day catches up with me, and I begin to sink into unconsciousness.

The door opens and shuts. Someone walks through the room. (Her mind feels like Psaqua's...)

Then I'm dead to the world.