Mysterious Encounter

I blink in disbelief. -30 points? I might have lost track of how many points I lost out there, but my count must surely be negative by now.

I lift the collar of my shirt, and I almost faint when I see the number -28 on my skin. What if somebody finds out I have a negative count? I have to earn some points as soon as possible, but how?

I decide that I have to run away from here before continuing this inner monologue.

I no longer hear the sirens as I approach our house. I look at my phone, and it says 5:54 PM. I hope dinner's not ready yet. I remove my mask and put it back into its rightful place in my bag.

I walk up to the gate and close it in a rush. I leap over to the door and knock on it. Seconds later, I can hear heavy footsteps from the other side. Miya is the one who opens. She greets me with a somewhat bothered face.

"Where have you been?" She asks me firmly while observing me from top to toe. It dawns on me that I look rather miserable, with wounds and torn clothes. I try to make up a possible lie.

Kendo practice? No, we wear bōgu. Maybe that I fell? I might have too deep of a wound on my upper arm for that to be believable. Perhaps a fight at school? It could work, considering that there are bullies and delinquents everywhere.

"It was a couple of girls from school, in case you are wondering." I reply. She seems to be considering it for a moment but then rolls her eyes in response. She decides to let me in.

Miya thankfully left me alone by heading back to her room. I take off my shoes and place them neatly on the shoe rack. I hear mom and dad chatting in the kitchen. It smells like garlic in here; I wonder what's for dinner?

I try to move as quietly as possible since I still haven't changed out of my clothes yet. I take one soft step at a time until I'm in front of the stairs. I clench my teeth while keeping in mind that it will, with most certainty, creak as I climb.

I carefully place my right foot on the first step, and a loud creaking noise fills the house. I sprint upstairs. Even an elephant could have done a better job.

“Zeya, is that you?” Mom asks me from the kitchen. Just perfect. I stop at the top of the stairs and close my eyes.

“Yes.” I respond plainly.

“Can you help us out in the kitchen? Also, dinner is almost finished.” She asks me as she moves to the bottom of the stairs. I don’t dare to turn around since I have to hide my injuries.

“I’ll be there in a second! I only have to freshen up a bit.” I say as I hurry to my room and close the door behind me.

I walk over to the mirror on the other side of my room. As I take off my shirt, I look at the number -28 once more in disbelief. I knew that it most likely would turn negative, but not by as much as it did. I’ve barely had a count over positive 28 either. Maybe studying will help, since it gave me a few points yesterday.

I change out of the rest of my school uniform and put on something more comfortable - sweatpants and a loose shirt. Good thing it covers the wound on my arm.

I make my way over to the mirror once more, and my jaw looks a bit red and swollen. I’m not usually one who wears much makeup, but I put some foundation on the worst part.

I walk out of my room and head down to the kitchen.

~*~*~*~

Thankfully, no one seemed to notice my bruises during dinner. I left the table right after finishing, telling them I have to study for a bit. Of course, my mom could hardly believe it, but it’s not like she would try to stop me.

I sit down by my desk in my room and take out Haru‘s notes from the day before once more. Wait, aren’t we supposed to have a test tomorrow? I slap my forehead several times in defeat. I guess I'll have to improvise, like always.

I take out my phone from my pocket and notice that Haru has sent me a few messages. He asked me what I’m up to and if I got home safely. I reply that I’m studying, which for the first time isn’t technically a lie. I also tell him that I made it home safely.

Then I realize that a stranger has also sent me a message:

I know who you are.

Wow. Talk about a great way to start a conversation.

Well, I don’t know who you are!?

You fought those VSF guys earlier today, right?

Who are you?

Just someone grateful.

I don't understand. How could this unknown sender find my number? Of course, a few bystanders might have seen us fighting as they walked by, but I never realized someone had spectated us. And it's not like they could have seen my face.

You didn’t answer my question!

We can’t talk here.

Why not?

There’s a long pause. I’m about to give up when another message appears:

Meet me at the playground in the park in 15 minutes.

Meeting a stranger in the park in the nighttime?! I think not!

Wait, I can’t meet you today!

But I only receive an error message saying: “Message not sent”. I try multiple times to no avail.

It could be a trap. Perhaps it’s the VSF, especially considering the sender was so mysterious. I tap my index finger on my desk rapidly in frustration. Why would this person even want to meet me? Maybe they know something?

I have to consider it for a moment.

Screw it.

I put on a black jacket and a pair of shoes. I keep them in my wardrobe in case of an emergency. My parents will never allow me to leave the house at this hour, so I have to sneak out. That's why my emergency clothes will come in handy.

I keep a ladder in a small box underneath a pile of clothes. I've only had to use it once before when I snuck out to a concert with Haru.

I built a treehouse in our garden with my sister when we were younger, and we used this ladder to climb. It looks like your average rope ladder, with thick dowel rods that look rather worn-down. I remember that our neighbors thought my parents were crazy - allowing two little girls to climb a tree all by themselves.

I tie the ladder securely to the wall-mounted heater and let it fall to the ground. I look down and take a deep breath. Having a bedroom on the first floor would have been so much easier.

There's no time to lose. I start climbing down.

It's already dark, and the wind is howling in my ears as I make my way to the ground. Fortunately, there are no windows right below mine, so sneaking out without getting spotted is not that complicated. Once I've stepped off the ladder, I pray that our neighbors won't notice it hanging from my window. Snitches get stitches.

I open the gate as quietly as I possibly can and look at the time. Only five minutes left. I look over my shoulder to make sure nobody’s watching. The wind blows my hair into my face, and I remove some of it from my mouth. I start jogging towards the park since it is a couple of minutes’ walk from here.

I only spot a woman walking her dog during my entire jog.

Why did I agree to this? I mean, I don't know this person. Is it too late to back down; I ponder while approaching the park. The park is empty, and the only noise heard is my footsteps on the gravel road. I stop. Should I leave while I still can?

Then I realize that I've reached my destination. The swings are swaying ever so slightly in the wind, but there's still no one in sight. I decide to sit down on a nearby bench. The chilly wind makes me shiver, and I guess I should have brought a warmer jacket. The streetlamp above flickers, making this progressively seem like a horror movie.

"You came." A deep voice from behind then suddenly says. I almost fall off the bench and look over my shoulder in frustration.

"Was that necessary?" I ask the stranger with furrowed brows.

The stranger steps into the light, and I manage to make out his features. A hoodie covers most of his face, but a small amount of dark gray - almost black hair sticks out. He also has similarly colored eyes. What's most striking about him is that he radiates a bad-boy aura. He looks like he might be around my age. He clicks his tongue.

"I had to make sure no one is watching or listening." He replies while sitting down on the other side of the bench.

"So, Mr. Mysterious. What are we doing here?" I ask him sarcastically.

"First of all, I want to thank you for saving gramps back there. I've told him not to move about in broad daylight, but he never listens. He's one stubborn man." He mutters while locking eyes with me. I give him a small smile in response.

"Don't mention it." I reply while shaking my hand dismissively. He seems like a kind-hearted guy, which is hard to guess judging by his attire. A thought then strikes me. If his grandpa is a criminal, does that also make him one? He doesn't exactly look like someone with a positive count. He turns his head to the playground.

"I saw what you did back there... You managed to take down two guys like they were nothing. You also managed to control that last guy somehow. Additionally, you don't have a negative count, right?" He asks me while still looking away. Talk about getting right to the point.

"Yeah..." I respond.

"I don't think I've heard of a light power with such capability. I mean, telekinesis could potentially do something similar to what you did back there, but I doubt it. Am I right?" He inquires.

"I don't have a light power, no." I reply as his eyes widen.

"How is that possible? I've never heard of something so absurd. Why haven't the VSF killed you yet?!" He asks me, slightly disturbed by the looks of it.

"They don't know that I have a power."

"Which also doesn't make sense since you must have inherited it from one of your parents, right?"

"I got it from my mom." I stop, unsure if I can trust this stranger with my family's secret. He must have sensed my doubt as he turns his head again.

"The name's Ryota, by the way. I'm not asking you to trust me, but I want to show you life from my perspective and perhaps help you as a fellow dark power-user."

"I see. My name is Zeya." I sigh. "My power is to control blood." A look of awe spreads across his face.

"Maybe you are related to Crimson then!?" He squeals, sounding like a fan-girl.

"Who's that?" I ask him in confusion.

"The most badass villain ever."

"Oh... Perhaps? But I doubt it."

"Well, it is a big world, so the odds are slim. What a bummer. But one of the reasons why I called you here is that I would like to show you an alternative way of life."

Oh no. Perhaps this guy is trying to recruit me to some shady gang? Maybe he wants me to commit crimes? I thought he was grateful for what I had done, and this is how he repays me?

"Look. I don't have any interest in joining you. I only helped a man in trouble. Otherwise, he could have died. It was simply a one-time good deed. And I have to increase my count now that it has turned negative." A look of hurt spreads across his face.

"Well, I didn't take you for one of those shallow jerks. I guess I was wrong. Also, look, I'm not trying to invite you to some sect or anything. And talk about prejudice. I'm not a criminal by any means. But it might depend on one's definition." He says as I realize that I might have been too harsh. I don't know how to respond.

"If you ever change your mind, here's my number." He then says after a long pause. He hands me a note with a hand-written number. I am about to ask him a question when I realize that he's no longer sitting on the bench. I'm alone once more.

I sigh and put the note in my pocket and decide to head back home.