Neytraliztchka

Midoriko watched the sunset from her room. It still felt so surreal that she was in England.

The house was situated on top of a small hill surrounded by farm fields on nearly all sides. From her room, she could see the long driveway that trailed down the hill, meeting the lonely, empty road she hadn’t once seen a car drive down.

If she were to flee from this place, how far would she have to go until she found another person? Westbrook had mentioned that they were currently situated in the middle of nowhere, which was more than evident from the view.

Short trees and fences seemed to mark the property lines in this place. As she stared off into the distance, Midoriko saw movement near a cluster of trees near the edge of Westbrook’s property. She stood up and leaned closer to the window, straining her eyes to look.

Two men, dressed in black, stood chatting and pointing to the house.

Suddenly, the lights in the room flicked on, startling Midoriko.

“What are you doing sitting in the dark?” It was Xiǎomíng, standing in the doorway.

“I hadn’t realized how dark it had gotten,” Midoriko replied with a shrug, turning her attention back to the window.

“What are you looking at?”

“There are two men outside,” she said, pointing out the window.

“What?” He strode across the room and squeezed next to her for a view out the window.

“See?” Midoriko pointed in their direction near the trees.

“Move. I can’t see anything,” he huffed, pushing her out of the way. Xiǎomíng cupped his hands around his eyes to block out the light as he looked out the window. “I don’t see anyone.”

“What are you talking about?” she said, pushing him over so she could look again. “They’re right–”

They were gone.

“I swear they were right there by the trees,” she insisted, pressing her forehead and finger to the glass.

Xiǎomíng sighed. “It was probably just a trick of the light or shadows or something.”

“But–”

“Give it up. We’re pretty isolated out here,” he explained, shaking his head. “The closest neighbor is several miles.”

“What is that in kilometers?”

“Well, a kilometer is larger than a mile…”

“Right,” Midoriko said with a sigh, taking a mental note of the distance between herself and literally anyone else but her captors.

“Anyway, dinner is ready! Come eat with us,” Xiǎomíng said, gently pulling Midoriko by the sleeve.

***

The three of them sat around the dinner table eating quietly. It was her first proper meal since arriving, having only eaten things like sandwiches or eggs and toast, so Midoriko wasn’t sure what to expect. Though it didn’t look pretty, her plate full of sausages, mashed potatoes and peas covered in gravy was certainly delicious.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Xiǎomíng watching her eagerly.

“Do you like it? I made it!”

“Yes, it’s delicious.” She smiled.

“It’s called ‘bangers and mash’! It’s a famous English dish that Master taught me how to prepare,” he explained, inhaling his food.

“Do you always eat English food?” Midoriko asked, looking between the two of them.

“Of course,” replied Westbrook. “When I’m in England, I play the part of an Englishman. Isn’t it only natural that English people eat English cuisine?”

Midoriko watched him eat. His table manners were much more refined than Xiǎomíng’s, but something stood out to her–he only seemed to use his left hand. Everything about him was strange. The way he dressed, always wearing gloves, and now this.

“You’re going to burn a hole right through me if you keep staring like that,” Westbrook said, making direct eye contact with her.

Midoriko looked away quickly, staring down at her food. “I noticed you’re a lefty.”

He let out a soft chuckle. The conversation died down, leaving only the scraping of their forks and the smacking of Xiǎomíng’s lips as he ate to fill the air.

“Is there anything you need while you’re here, Miss Suwa?” Westbrook asked, finally breaking the silence as soon as it became too oppressive.

“Yes, actually,” Midoriko replied, setting down her fork. “I need a change of clothes. Putting my filthy underwear back on after a shower feels gross.”

“Very well. I’ll see to it that our honored guest gets fresh underwear,” Westbrook replied with a sly smile.

“Can’t you just take me shopping?” Midoriko insisted. It could be a good opportunity for her to escape. But more than anything, the thought of a strange man–especially this one–selecting her underwear was too embarrassing to bear.

“No. Just tell me your preferences and sizes, and I’ll take care of it,” he said with a wink. She heard Xiǎomíng briefly choke on his food.

Midoriko slammed her hands on the table and pushed herself away. She stomped out of the dining room, trying to hide the flush spreading rapidly across her face.

“I prefer cotton! And I’m a medium in almost everything!” she shouted as she stomped up the stairs.

***

The next day, Xiǎomíng presented Midoriko with a shopping bag.

“What’s this?” she asked, accepting the gift.

“The…things…you requested,” he mumbled. His ears were bright red, and he was avoiding her gaze. Midoriko could only guess that Westbrook sent the boy shopping as some sort of punishment for yesterday’s slip of the tongue.

“Thanks.” Midoriko smiled pleasantly so as not to make Xiǎomíng feel any worse. He turned on his heels to leave the room. She took a peek through the bag and pulled out a cotton bralette. “Um…”

Xiǎomíng flinched as he stopped in the doorway. “M-Master told me to check the s-size of your bra while you were sh-showering! B-but I refused!”

“Okay…” She wasn’t accusing the boy of anything untoward.

“Anyway, I hope everything fits!” he said loudly before slamming the door shut behind him.

Midoriko sighed and looked through the bag, curious as to what a teenage boy might have purchased for an adult woman. Perhaps because the clothes she’d had on her back were all neutral tones and fairly conservative, he didn’t seem to pick out anything flashy.

One thing surprised Midoriko, though–everything was from luxury brands.

She wasn’t a fashion-savvy person at all, preferring cheap, utilitarian clothing and UNIGLO basics, but even Midoriko could recognize those brand names. Carmani, Dioro, and that French brand she couldn’t pronounce. The haul included a couple pairs of pants, a few different tops, and even silk pajamas. It must have cost a small fortune.

Unless they stole it, she thought bitterly.

But still, why this kind of stuff? Even the socks and underwear seemed higher-end. Was Westbrook trying to butter her up?

Whatever. It was still better than the dirty clothes she was wearing. Midoriko quickly changed so she could get to work on her assigned task. The sooner it was completed, the better.

Over the next couple of days, Midoriko and Xiǎomíng worked together to sort through Westbrook’s massive collection. Sometimes he sat in the room with them, quietly observing while he smoked his acrid-smelling cigarettes. Other times, he was gone, not even in the house, doing whatever it was he filled his time with. Those were the perfect moments to probe Xiǎomíng for information.

She could surmise the man was Japanese, given the way he spoke the language as if it were his first. But when asked, Xiǎomíng neither confirmed nor denied it.

On the day Midoriko had arrived, she had heard the boy start to utter a name before catching himself. Something like Ro…Ri…Ryo… but that information was something Xiǎomíng was surprisingly tight-lipped about.

He was extremely loyal to Westbrook, but still far too easy to wring secrets out of. All she had to do was say something confidently incorrect or stroke the boy’s ego a bit. Midoriko often thought to herself, “His 'Master' should be teaching him how to resist interrogation, not magic.”

Through Xiǎomíng, she learned that Royce Westbrook, aka Xī Hé Lóng, aka many other aliases yet to be known, moved around in disguise. After Midoriko described the face she could see, Xiǎomíng confirmed he had also seen that face, but the man rarely showed it. He used magic to completely change how others could perceive him, down to even his voice.

Of course, they had learned that it didn’t work on Midoriko at all. Not even Xiǎomíng’s weak disguise magic (he could so far only change his hair and eye color) worked on Midoriko.

***

It had been a few days since Midoriko was forcibly brought to England and put to work by Westbrook, but today was the first day she was left by herself. It would have been the perfect opportunity for an escape, if not for the fact that it was raining.

Enjoying a warm cup of tea on a rainy day in the English countryside sounded absolutely idyllic under any other circumstances, but what could she do? Finishing her tea, Midoriko sighed and got up from the table. Not that she owed them anything, but the habit of washing her dirty dishes after eating was a hard one for Midoriko to break.

It wasn’t until she reached the kitchen sink that Midoriko saw a man she’d never seen before, wearing a black raincoat, peering in through the kitchen window. She dropped the dishes with a yelp, shattering the vintage teacup and saucer on the floor. The man darted out of view.

Midoriko rushed to the kitchen door, flinging it open in time to see the strange man sprinting through the muddy garden. She ran out into the rain after him.

“Wait! Wait!” she called out in English. “Please help me!”

The man stopped at the gate and turned around.

“Help me! I am Japanese! I was kidnapped by a man!” Midoriko pleaded, approaching the stranger.

“Как вы можете меня видеть?”

Russian?! Of all the people she could have met in this country, why did it have to be someone speaking Russian?

“Please, can you speak English? I can only speak in English and Japanese,” she said, struggling to get the words out coherently in English.

“Who are you? Is Brodny here?” the Russian asked in English. Midoriko could barely understand him through his accent.

“Um…Excuse me…?”

“Is Zapad Brodny here?” he asked once more, pointing at the house.

Who? She’d never heard that name before in her life. Could it be one of Westbrook’s other aliases? Maybe this man was with Interpol?

“Um…uh…A man named Royce Westbrook lives here,” Midoriko explained, gesturing as she spoke to ensure she was understood. “He kidnapped me. Please, help me!”

The Russian rubbed his chin as he mumbled the name “Royce Westbrook” a few times. Midoriko didn’t understand what else she could do to convey the urgency behind her words.

“Is he home?” he asked again, stepping closer to Midoriko.

“Ah! Um…uh…He is not home right now,” she explained. Though it wasn’t a downpour, the rain was starting to soak through her clothes, making Midoriko shiver. She needed to end this roundabout conversation and get away from here. “I don’t know when he will come back. Please help me to escape now!”

“Хороший!” The Russian man laughed. He patted Midoriko on the shoulder. “I will come back.”

“Huh?” What did he mean he’d come back? When?! Midoriko grabbed his Raincoat. “Please, can I go too?!”

The Russian just smiled, exposing a few gold teeth. He shook his head “no” as he pried her hand off his sleeve. “I will come back, neytraliztchka.”

What did that word mean? Was he telling her to wait? The man darted through the gate and ran out of view. Midoriko followed after him, but he was gone as if he’d vanished into thin air.