A Little Poison

 The nameless man awoke and felt relieved he was alive at all. Behind that relief, however, was fear. He sat in a chair with an attached desk, one that looked similar to the sets that would be used in classrooms. His hands were bound to the back—tightened so heavily on his wrists he was sure it would leave marks. The room felt cold and somehow appeared cold—looking at the concrete floor and the way it glistened left a chill in his heart. There was dust—and a lot of it—he would have surely sneezed once or twice already if his nose and mouth were not covered. Something stood out in the corner: it was a shelf that appeared to have painting materials on it. He squinted to make it out, as it was in an unlit corner. Before he could get any meaningful reading, however, he heard a pair of boots descending the steps. A familiar voice accompanied them:

"He's bound to be awake by now—no pun intended…oh, you are awake! Hope my play on words could lighten up the mood a little bit, haha! I'll get some of that loosened up so you can relax, 'mkay?"

He had secretly hoped he had just fallen asleep at the bar, but knew also that that'd be wishful thinking. This Wendy lady had taken him—and he did not even have a guess as to what she could want with him. The fear he had focused on earlier now resurfaced—but so too did a bit of relief. This woman could not, in his mind, be a murderer or someone who meant to cause him great harm. Looking at her made him feel a bit more at ease…but he also couldn't eliminate that possibility—that this woman knew Hiro or was a friend or lover of Hiro, and somehow figured out what had happened to him and who caused it before the police did. Wendy's captive had to tread lightly. She spoke to him:

"You know…you don't seem very tense. Typically with boys your age I hear panicked breathing behind the binding from all the way upstairs. Has this happened to you before?"

The nameless man silently shaked his head.

"Okay…I'll take all this off of your face—I see already that you won't bother shouting. I'm sure that you also have more than a few questions…there you are—"

He forgot immediately that he wanted to talk carefully. "What do you want from me?" he interjected.

"I told you at the bar," she reflexively responded, "I thought you were an adorable little thing. Is this really so heinous?"

"I don't believe you. It's all too convenient—I run away from my home city to escape being killed, not even a year later the police are at my door here, I run to the bar and you take me hostage? All just because you want to have fun with me?"

"Hey, hey, hey—relax! I have nothing to do with any of that. Though it does sound like it's been a bad night for you—"

"My life's been one bad night…are you here to make it worse? Were you lying when you said I was the only boy you've spoken to? How many other people have you brought here? What did you do with them? What ab—"

Wendy put her finger to his lips. "Shh, shh, shh. I didn't bring you here to hurt you. Lend me some silence for ten seconds and I'll explain everything."

While talking, she sat on the desk attached to his chair in front of him, facing him. Her legs dangled next to his while he looked up at her. She crossed one leg over the other and her boot which hung over her leg landed in his lap on his inner thigh. This sent him into an infernal rage—not from the discomfort or disrespect, but with how casually her boot pressed onto him. He felt angry at the notion that it was natural—that she could not have sat any other way or that he was undeserving of any decency. However, Wendy sensed his discomfort almost immediately and uncrossed her leg. She mumbled, "...sorry…" before continuing. The nameless man now felt ashamed of how upset he had gotten and guilty that she had apologized. Ironically, it was this event that made him feel safe with her, and that she did genuinely have some regard for his well-being. He felt inclined to listen to her.

She looked down sorrowfully, as though shuffling through drawers in her mind and choosing her words carefully. She cleared her throat before speaking: "Have you heard of the famous violinist, Himare-chan?"

He breathed in with an air of confusion. "I cannot think of a question that would have less to do with what's going on right now."

"Just answer it!"

He let out a groan with a touch of impatience. "Ugh, yeah—I think I saw her once on the television in the square—didn't she die in an accident five or six months ago?"

"In a collapsing building, yeah."

"What's your point?"

Wendy appeared apprehensive and unable to let out her next word. They sat in silence for the next several moments.

"I'm Himare-chan…!"

"What? You just said she—"

"Yeah, they thought the accident had no survivors, but I managed to get out unscathed."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Ugh, have some patience—didn't I tell you the worthwhile stories come with stutters? I've never told anyone this before."

"Okay, as you were."

"I…watched my fiancé…he did not land as smoothly as I did—"

"That's why I'm here? You need a new one?"

"No, no, no! Just let me talk!"

"Okay, sorry."

"I've…been hiding in plain sight ever since that day. I've given up the violin, I never really liked the thing much. Life's no fun when everything is handed to you, when everything is done for you, when everything is decided for you…I couldn't handle that life any longer. I didn't make people happy, I couldn't even come close to making myself happy. Ugh…sorry, it would take me hours to explain everything about that—but I had to leave it behind. I had to run away."

"So you caused the building to collapse?"

"No. I…didn't. But it was perfect for faking my death. Perhaps I was the only person who benefited from it—if I truly did benefit. I don't know how the damned thing fell but I really haven't been able to think clearly about it since then. Point is, I threw away my old life—I had to throw away my old life…After I got away from the accident, I hid from everyone until I could change my hair color and change my facial structure a little bit. I had this place built in the forest. I knew a friend who could get me a new ID—as though I never existed before. I started selling fakes alongside him for money. That should be everything…that's how I turned from Himare-chan to Wendy."

"That's…insane. I'm sorry you had to go through everything like that—"

"No, don't be sorry. I'm litigating this to you because…as I'm sure you know…there needs to be a change…"

The nameless man kept his mouth open for a second before speaking: "What do you mean?"

"It's…difficult to explain…no, it's just all a mess—but I can explain it. Do you know what alchemy is?"

"Okay, there's no way that question is relevant this time."

"It is. Answer it."

"Yeah, it's a pseudoscience. I think Newton, the genius scientist, wasted decades exploring it after he wrote his book."

"Ooh—ah, you see, that's the problem with you—you want so desperately for someone to be charitable to you and your struggles, but you won't give charity to anyone else!"

"What do you know about the way I think?"

"...A bit more than you may think. What if I told you that alchemy is real?"

The nameless man thought about his answer carefully. "I…would think it's remarkable…but still unsure of why you need me. Are you going to use me as an ingredient for something?"

"Ahaha—no. Well, technically, yes. But not in the way you're thinking."

He wasn't sure how to respond to this. "I…what do you mean?"

She took a book from her back pocket and opened it to a seemingly random page. She took something from the shelf in the corner and began to stroke with what looked like a brush on the floor.

"Hey, what are you…what is this?"

"What are you in a panic for? Alchemy is fake, remember?"

"Is this going to hurt?"

"Not if I do it right."

"Why me? I'm just a random kid who went out to the bar one night! You seemed to be popular there, you could've gotten anyone else!"

"No. Meetings like this appear once in a few thousand millions—perhaps less. You're the only person who fits the conditions for this ritual."

"Ritual? What is this going to do?"

"Relax. It won't do anything to you. It works best with a subject who isn't so tense."

The nameless man tried to calm down but had no success in doing so. Wendy had to come over and reassure him.

"Hey. You've been through many of the same things I've been through. I know you need a change—just like I do. Anything would be better than what you've come from. Isn't that right?"
The nameless man looked at her inquisitively. "How could you know that?"

"I'll explain everything on the other side…"

Wendy started to say something in an undecipherable tongue—followed by three words that sounded only loosely legible in English:

"Far! Far! AWAY!"