Asylum

Arrival

Kya Carter

Miraculously, we made it back to the plane by a hair. On our final ride to Tokyo, I end up telling Ren about my markings. It felt wrong to tell him that I knew all about his past and withhold all the information about myself. So, I told him about the moon on my back and the drops of blood that burn into my skin every time I use the darkness of my power. I tell him that I used a fraction of that power in the car, and that I'm worried another drop will appear within in the next 24 hours. He doesn't ask me what my power is, exactly, which is fine by me. Despite the touching moment we had in the dead-end alley, I'm still not ready to tell him or anybody about my ability. It's disgusting and repulsive, and it reflects poorly on my character.

Whatever tensions that always seemed to be between Ren and I have vanished. Before, there was always the uncertainty of hatred. Did Ren hate me? Did I hate him? What conflict kept driving us farther and farther apart? But now, with all those questions answered, it seems we're on the same page now. Undoubtedly, there will be conflicts between us in the future, as he's still Ren and will behave erratically and impulsively, and I'm still Kya and I'll continue to remain placid and painfully indifferent. This time, though, when those times come, we'll have a better understanding of each other and a good chance of a faster reconciliation.

I did indeed get the aisle seat on the plane, which I made sure to rub in Ren's face. Ren, who was silent most of the way to Tokyo. I can't blame him. I gave him a lot to think about and he has a lot to prepare himself for. I don't know if it's enough time for him, but we touch down in Japan in the afternoon: 12, sharp.

The good thing about being an Asylum runaway is that you don't have any luggage to take off the plane with you or pick up on a conveyer belt. Ren and I breezed past those sections, and it wasn't hard to tell that the general population of air-travelers didn't favor the system. Just outside the airport, masses of taxis were transporting people. People who were noisier than Leo on taco day, and pushier than Leo in the lunch line for taco day. But I didn't mind it. It felt great to be surrounded by people who didn't know my name, the marks I hid on my back, or my strange abilities. They looked at me like any other stranger, and that felt fantastic.

Ren ducks his head to talk to me, hair overgrown that his red tips stab at his golden irises. "Stay close, it's easy to get swept up here." I nod in response, not doubting him one bit. In this one place, there could be hundreds of people here, like an ocean of bodies. Without much of a warning, Ren marches through the crowd and I follow close behind. He stops at the edge of a walkway, holding up a hand as a yellow car slows to a stop in front of us. Before we even take a step, someone cuts us off and takes our car. "Hey," Ren roars, reaching out for the man and ripping him backwards. "Get your own, pal."

Snatching my wrist, Ren tugs me along and basically tosses me in the taxi once the door opens. He slides in beside me, gives directions to the driver in Japanese, and begins to calculate the amount of cash he'll need to give the man. Despite the crowded area, the driver maneuvers out with ease, and I glue myself to the car window, ready to see a new world.

Even in the daylight, the city of Tokyo seems to glow. Storefronts and open vendors crowd the streets. The streets, which are so full of moving people that they seem to be moving. I notice that down most roads, cars aren't used. Perhaps because everything seems within walking distance. The driver turns up the heat, which feels great. Now that winter is here, it's chilly. And so far, Japan seems a lot colder than that dank town back in Maine. For the first hour or so of the ride, all I see is the city: electronic skyscrapers, intricately designed buildings, plasma screens the width of Asylum opening gates displaying commercials and popular events occurring around town.