Untangling a Memory

Thank you, Soldier

"I would like you to meet your new instructor. You should address him as 'Soldier.'"

The Soldier stood there looking from face to face, the girls standing in a straight line before him. Somehow his gaze was both empty and piercing, it was as if he was staring straight through them. His face, really his whole body, lacked emotion of any kind.

"He will lead all of your combat, weapons, and language lessons from now on. He will remove any weak widows from the program. Excel and thrive or go the way of your sisters." All of the girls knew what this meant. Their group had started at 24 and now was down to just 7.

Though Madame B had introduced him and left, the he really needed no introduction. The girls immediately had recognized the metal arm and known. The Winter Soldier was the stuff of legends, a ghost story, the best of the KGB operatives with a 100% success rate. He took out his targets, then vanished into thin air, and that's what he would be teaching the girls to do as well.

The Soldier walked towards the line of girls, all about the age of 18-20. He eyed them up and down, walking past each, inspecting for strengths and weaknesses. The girls attempted to stand perfectly still, though most were terrified by his mere presence.

But she wasn't. Where the other girls tensed their muscles as he walked past, she simply stood strong. Where the other girls' hearts raced, her's played at its usual rhythm. She stood staring straight ahead while he walked past, looking her over just as he had with the others, until he looked at her face. Then she looked straight into his eyes. He was taken back their fierce and bright green coloring. She caught the most subtle reaction from him.

"Ladies, please stand against the wall." The Soldier nodded toward the far wall and the girls quickly shifted their line to that position. "One by one, you are going to fight me. Either you will win or I will. We will start with you." He nodded toward the opposite end of the line from her.

Each girl stepped forward, one at a time, and spared with the Soldier. They used every tactic and skill they had learned and practiced. One by one, they had left the middle of the room badly beaten up- twisted ankles, pulled muscles, a broken arm, a chipped tooth... These were the injuries doled out to the young women while the Soldier was taking it easy on them.

Finally, it got to her turn and she stepped forward. Where the other girls stood or sat broken, he looked to be barely exerted. It hadn't even been a proper warm-up for him. So, as she stepped towards him and readied herself, he prepared for another lackluster attack.

But she wasn't like the other girls. Right before she was on him, he caught the faintest hint of a smirk on her face. It was as if she knew what she was getting herself into, she wanted the challenge, and getting hurt would just be part of the fun as long as she won. The Soldier rarely saw any emotions expressed around him other than fear, disgust, and hatred, so her tiny glimmer of excitement stunned him. He was knocked down hard immediately.

She continued to attack him, and though he quickly had the upper hand, she was a reasonably formidable opponent. While she still lost with a couple of minutes, many had lost in less than half that. By the time she was done, she had a split lip and two broken fingers. The Soldier noticed as he helped her off the floor that she didn't look defeated, but rather invigorated.

She returned to the wall with the other girls. "This is what we will be doing each day. Go clean yourselves up. Next time we spar, I will give each of you notes and we will review them as a class. See you tomorrow." The Soldier said this impassively and the girls began to leave the room.

"I would like your notes on my performance today."

He'd already moved to collect his jacket and weapons he'd taken off prior to the fights, but turned around at her speaking. Searched her eyes for a long moment. He was used to being given orders and executing assignments. He didn't receive requests he could say no to. So, in this unusual moment where he felt that he actually had a choice, he paused.

"You are quick. Your legs are strong and you use them well to try to give yourself an advantage, especially for your size. You need to anticipate your opponents' moves better. You were slow to react and it gave me the upper hand. It's why your fingers are broken."

The Soldier's tone was numb as he provided the feedback. She stood staring at him intently as he provided every point. "How about my split lip?"

He wasn't expecting another question from her. He looked at her lip, puffy and rose-hued, just above her chin with a red crack down the middle. It was distracting.

"You were too focused on me. Focus more on your body positioning and your surroundings. Next time, you won't get an elbow to the face."

The Soldier responded without any emotion when sharing his last thoughts. As soon as he was done, he turned back to collecting his things.

"Thank you, Soldier."

She turned and walked out. The Soldier had half expected her to continue challenging him, but she didn't. He had no idea what to make of his new pupil.

As he exited the building into the deep snow, the Soldier thought of her again. Intense, bright, green eyes. Puffy, rose-hued lips. He had been programmed to not even notice such things. But this student, this widow stood out among the rest. He couldn't avoid that fact.

Back at the dormitory, she carefully changed out of her clothes, being mindful of her hand. She went to the bathroom, and before getting into the basin to bathe, she carefully realigned her fingers and bandaged them. Good enough, she thought.

The next day, she went into class with the other girls and lined up against the wall. Most of the others were bandaged up as well, so the Soldier had planned on practical lessons for the day over highly physical ones.

At the end of a full day of language, weapons, and other tactical training, she approached the Soldier before leaving. "I thought we were going to fight you again and we'd get more critique."

The Soldier looked at her with his brow furrowed. "Your fingers are still broken."

"And they will be again tomorrow. My wounds shouldn't prevent me from attacking you properly, just as they wouldn't in the field."

He searched her face. Her behavior was puzzling to him. "Put your coat down."

She put down her sweater to the side and they began. In her attacks, she was swift, he was swifter. She was strong, he was stronger. She was smart, he was smarter. It wasn't long before she was on the floor again, this time with 3 broken fingers.

The Soldier began to pick up his belongings. "You saw my punch that time and you had better awareness of your feet. But you gave up your hands in the process. You need your fingers." He said all of this to her bluntly.

She nodded, "Thank you, Soldier." She held her hand gently pulling on her sweater before leaving for her dormitory.

She hadn't complained once during their sparing. She hadn't made a noise of pain or frustration. She hadn't seemed to show any upset at all about her injuries. The Soldier was impressed by this, her ability to manage herself.

Before she was to be finally "tucked in" for the night, she heard a brief knock at her dormitory door. She opened the door to find no one was there, but on the ground was a bag of ice.

Listen to: "Admiration" - Incubus