Meet The Crew!

After signing away my life and packing the few things I owned, an all-black mini-van greeted me outside the detention center. Inside the van sat five future Cadets, all of whom—even me—remained silent throughout the entire ride to an inconspicuous tram station. Shocked by the fact that a tram existed, we future wannabes climbed onboard, heading to an unknown destination.

“I can’t believe these old pieces of junk still exist,” says the red-haired teenage girl, with a feline-like face. Her face is glued to the middle of the panoramic window, eyes wide like joyful child. She’s the first to break the silence, which kept all of us recruitees on mute. “S-Sorry.” The red head, whose hair glows with an amber tint from the dappled sunlight spilling through the forest of trees zipping by, takes a seat, and goes quiet.

“What are you sorry for?” A duo, who I am assuming are brother and sister because they look identical, tilt their heads in question. From their bleach blonde hair styled in a stylish mohawk braid, their freckled pale skin, down to the similar cross of left leg over right, these two move as one. “Always in sync,” they say, smiling wide.

“For breaking the silence,” the red-hair girl squeaks out. "I don't want to be a nuisance; I'm Momo, by the way. Momo Beignet.”

“And we’re Hisoka and Haru Shimada. The Shimada twins if you will,” the twins say, genetically altered ruby eyes surveying everyone on the tram. “Hajimemashite!”

“N-nice to meet you as well.” If I had to guess, I’d say Momo is timid, a timid girl who, if she crossed paths with my former gang members, would’ve caught hell. Targeting the shy ones was easy, and their beatings were brutal.

Shaking my head of my awful past life, I open my mouth to introduce myself when the thickset teen, with his arms folded, greets everyone. “Sup! I’m Nobuyuki. Or Nobu like my fam calls me.” His cherubic mien, clean-shaven beard, and side-parted, ashen hair makes for one gorgeous man. “And you are?” Nobuyuki nods my way, his mint green eyes finding my brown eyes. For just a moment, I allow his eyes to sweep the length of me.

For a girl who spent a year and a half in Juvie, with no access to my high-end beauty products, hot comb, or decent clothes, I had to get creative with the little I had to work with. I pilfered black floor wax to paint my fingers and toes, found antiquated magazines with perfume samples for touches of femininity, and used packets of honey butter for my hair, never for the breakfast biscuits. Fortunately, they returned my favorite pink halter top and blue jeans combo to me when I was discharged from Juvie, and it appears as if Nobuyuki is enjoying everything I have on.

Absentmindedly fluffing my afro of tight curls, I tell the group who I am. “Hadassah Kawaguchi.” I wave, smiling from ear to ear.

“What were you in for?” Nobuyuki’s brows rise inquisitively.

“I’m sorry?” I question.

“Don’t play coy.” He smirks.

“I-I think he’s asking about y-you being in juvie.” Momo says, her voice low, muffled by her hand pressed to her lips.

“Is it time to spill dark secrets now?” The twins chuckle, their movements robotic as their heads swivel in my direction. “Tell us yours and we’ll tell you ours.”

My heart thuds, skipping a beat as I forget to breathe. Everyone is staring at me, curiosity making their eyes bulge. I feel myself shrinking, spiraling into a dark descent of dreadful memories: being arrested, having my face plastered all over the nightly news, my parents being shamed by the family, and my mother pleading with the judge to show me “grace” before making his decision.

What was supposed to be a two-year stint in juvie, followed by eight months in prison once I turned eighteen, the judge presiding over my case settled for just the two years. Thankfully, this unwanted opportunity has dismissed six months from my sentence.

Now I get to be part of the real world again.

“Don’t share anything you don’t want to,” a deeply masculine voice comes from the man lying across three seats. He rolls over to face the group, a scowl upturning his full lips. “Besides, you don’t owe us anything. No one on this tram should be drooling from their mouths at the idea of using your story against you.”

Nobuyuki halfway turns to glare over his shoulder. “I’m just making conversation, Melokuhle.”

“You can mind your business, Nobu,” Melokuhle says sternly. “Find a different way to break the ice, bro.”

“Mōshiwake arimasen.” Nobuyuki bows his head to me; hands pressed in prayer as he lifts them to the crown of his head. “Please accept my apology.”

Relaxing, I roll back my stiff shoulders. “No worries,” I assure Nobuyuki was a half-smile. “Besides… if you were to Ask Pom-Pom, it would show my entire life.”

All the recruitee’s gawp at one another as their hands creep for their pockets in response. Pockets that would’ve contained cellphones if they weren’t confiscated. We'll be crap-out-of-luck with our cellphones on a 10-week hiatus because whomever designed this training thought better of allowing teenagers and cellphones to mix. I can't be too mad at the idea, though.

I sigh, shake my head and shrug as I confess, “I was arrested after a failed heist with not-so-good friends assisting in this failed mission.” I am the center of attention as I affirm my crimes, and I don’t enjoy being at the center of everything.

“That’s it?” Nobuyuki titters a laugh. “Not to be rude, but I had expected something more… dramatic.”

“I-I ran away from home,” Momo squeaks out, her hands trembling. “I haven’t s-seen my father in a long time.”

Hisoka and Haru declare, “We’re quite fond of illegal taxidermy.” At all of the shocked expressions, Haru adds, “The animals are already deceased when we find them. We’re not murderers.” Then Hisoka says, “We’re animal lovers by nature, and we hope to one day open our own still-life menagerie. Besides, to achieve our goal, we had to get started somewhere.”

Nobuyuki coughs as if sick at the idea of dead animals. “Uh, well, I am a reformed bully.”

“Tell them why,” Melokuhle says.

Nobuyuki rolls his eyes. “Hell no!”

“The nerdy kid he used to pick on for years,” Melokuhle begins, “came back after summer break with an orange belt in Shotokan.”

“That’s enough, Melo. Chill—”

“Nobu decided one fine day to pick a fight with the nerd—”

“Dude! I said chill!—”

“And was given a proper butt whooping”

Nobuyuki sighs deeply.

“Bro, stop stressing,” Melokuhle says firmly. “From that butt whooping, a friendship was born.”

After what feels like an eternity but was more like two hours on the tram, we’re finally delivered into a large glass dome backlit by the evening sunlight.

My new home away from home...