Bonds

 Jack hated hospitals. The sterile scent that lingered in the air. The doctors prowling the hallways like predators seeking out their prey. They were just doing their job, his sister said. If they did their job, his mother would still be here. Maybe it was because he blamed them. He was told they did everything they could, that they tried, that there was nothing they could do. All empty platitudes that did nothing to abate his anger. He wanted someone, something, to blame. Maybe they missed something, maybe some test results came back wrong, or maybe he just didn’t want to face reality. It didn’t matter in the end. He still watched his mother die.

While it wasn’t a hospital, the school’s ‘special ordinance’ wing certainly felt like it. Each time he walked down the school hallway, he was taken back to that moment. The people in lab coats, the scent, it all came rushing back to him like a bursting dam. The ‘doctors’ weren’t doctors, they were teachers. Some get kind of uppity if you don't refer to them as ‘professors’. Either way, they poked, prodded, and measured the students enough to fit the bill. They were tailing after other kids going to their classes. They constantly asked questions like ‘how do you feel’ and ‘are you in any pain’. Doctors would at least try to offer a solution. All these guys did was scribble on a tablet, nod, and go about their day.

According to the school board, they were ‘helping’. Jack passed by another lab coat with legs, turning the corner. As he did, a familiar noise echoed in his ears. A faint beep. He stepped down the corridor, running a hand along the wall. A label above the door read ‘Testing Room #2’. Peering inside revealed a male student in a chair with half a dozen suction cups stuck to his body. He had a head of red hair, so red you might think it had blood flowing through it. Jack sighed, resting a hand on his forehead.

The noise conjured up unwanted images. He remembered his father standing on the opposite side of his mother’s bed where he and his sister were. Their mother’s figure was obscured by layers of blankets. They didn’t work. He clutched her hand in his, hoping to capture his mother’s fading warmth. After a moment, it was gone. He had turned to the heart monitor, hoping that it was just a glitch. It was working just a second ago, so maybe there was a problem. Maybe it was just a long gap between the lifelines. But, just a second before, the gaps between each ‘beep’ was getting longer and longer. It was a countdown to the inevitable. A fact he couldn’t admit to himself. It was staring him in the face, and he couldn’t believe it.

His father was a man of science, and his twin sister took after him. They wouldn’t have any trouble accepting what they had just witnessed. Their mother was gone.

It had been five years, and even now, Jack was ashamed of the display. He wailed like a child, screeching and beseeching any god who would listen to bring her back. Then, he asked ‘why’? No reply. No empty platitudes. Nothing at all. Not from his father, his sister, or from the nurses in the hallway. The doctor moved forward and confirmed her death. The doctor walked the family through what came next, and he offered his condolences. It felt empty, like he was going through the motions.

Jack remembered when his mother was ill, she couldn’t feed herself anymore. The last time she tried to pick up a spoon, it clattered to the floor. She apologized every time, each syllable a rasp on her strained vocal cords. The nurses had to pick up the slack. His mother still smiled. Jack couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing her again.

He clenched his teeth and picked up the pace, hopefully leaving the fragmented past behind him. Rounding the corner, it was yet another white hallway. The bitter scent of reheated meat wafted into his nose. A small cafeteria was at the far end of the hall on the left. From what Jack knew, it was for kids who had specific appetites. He didn’t eat there, he ate at the actual cafeteria on the other side of the school. The Gate Academy itself was split into different sections based on the actual needs of the students. Jack himself didn’t have anything physically wrong with him that he knew of. He had a fear that made things inconvenient for the school. He couldn’t do the same thing most other students that were part of the same curriculum could.

Channel mana.

His father was a Magus, his sister was a Magus, he was part of the Mauser family. The Mauser family were researchers, so therefore Jack should be able to do it too. Flawless logic in a flawless system that had no room for second guessing itself. If the son could not do it, he must be defective. Let’s fix him. Let’s throw him into the loony bin until he gets his act together. Then, much like his mother, when that fails, just say ‘oh, we tried’.

He clicked his tongue. A farce in a farce. Jack tucked his hands into his pockets and continued down the hallway. A few glances came his way, but no one stopped to speak to him. The scowl on his face was enough of a repellant. He didn’t want to be bothered. Jack rounded the corner toward the stairs. He thought it was the corner toward the stairs. The entire place looked the same. White tiled hallways that branched off into different rooms with name plates hovering above each door. The text printed was the same color white as the hallways. Eventually they all just became a blurred soup of white letters, almost blending with the white paint on the walls. There was no sense of aesthetics. The last hospital he ended up in had the common decency to at least have a carpeted waiting room. If he was supposed to get ‘better’ (whatever that meant) in a place like this, then he was already off to an awful start.

It had only been a week since the school year started, and it’s been about five years since his mother passed away. It took them that long to notice something was wrong. Of course, Jack didn’t say anything. He wasn’t pushed too much, considering his father was a big wig in one of their precious projects. Jack got off easy. Then, when it came to actually show what he was capable of, he had nothing to show for it. They were quick to toss a label on him and shoo him away and out of sight. It didn’t make him happy, but nothing ever really did.

A red sign labeled 2F came into view after rounding another corner. Jack sighed in relief. An escape route. He took one step, then another going up toward the roof. Each step was another toward freedom. Once he rounded the first set, he picked up the pace. One step became two. He jogged up the stairwell, past the sign pointing to ‘3F’. Then, finally, the door.

He pushed it open.

Jack squinted his eyes as the summer sun blinded him.

Fresh air purged the sterile scent of the school from Jack’s memory. It was the closest thing to therapy that Jack’s experienced since he arrived. He walked out onto the open rooftop. There he was greeted with a fence three times Jack’s height. A reinforced chainlink fence interwoven around the roof’s perimeter. He peered through the gaps in the fence. A few skyscrapers crested the hills of the Luanosa Gate Academy. The lush forest and the distant view of the ocean were the only things separating the school from the rest of the city.

The fence shook.

Jack looked left, then right.

Nothing. No one else was on the roof.

Clatter. Clatter.

What was that noise? Jack turned around, then looked up.

A shadow cast itself from above the doorway.

“Not a bad view!”

The girl stood with confidence, her arms at her sides. The faint glimmer of a red-jewel shined on her forehead.

“Becca?” Jack turned to look at the top of the stairwell enclosure. “What the hell are you doing up there?”

“What does it look like?” Rebecca said. “Exploring.”

“I think you’re trying to hurt yourself.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” She bent down, hugging her knees close. Her long hair fell around her shoulders as her chin sat snugly between her knees. “Come on, get up here!”

“I’d rather not,” Jack said, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t want to spend lunch in the infirmary again.”

“It won’t be like last time!” Rebecca denied any heinous actions. Her grin widened. “Come on, get up here!”

Jack could spend his lunch peacefully lounging about on the roof, or he could risk more bodily harm because of Rebecca’s goading. “Make room.”

“Hell yeah!” Rebecca grinned.

Jack moved around the side. He dipped his foot into the grooves and grasped the chainlink fence. Placing one foot in front of the other, and grasping the clattering fence, he made his journey up the side. After a moment of climbing, he turned his head to see the challenge of getting on the maintenance shaft’s roof. He had to jump and grasp onto the ledge. A ledge without a lip.

“I’m going to ask this again. How the hell did you get over there?”

“I jumped,” Rebecca said, her chin now resting in her palms.

“You jumped?” Jack studied the gap between where he was and the ground below. A drop of at least three meters, maybe four. “‘Sense of adventure’ my ass! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“What, you a chicken?” She smiled with a wide, toothy grin.

“You used magic, didn’t you?” Jack narrowed his eyes.

“Maybe, but what does it matter to you?” Her grin widened. “You hate magic.”

“I don’t hate it, it’s just…” Memories played unbidden in his mind. Jack gnashed his teeth. Gauging the distance between where he was and where Rebecca stood was the easy part. The hard part was making the jump. A glance to the ground, then back to Rebecca. “I told you to move, didn’t I?”

Rebecca complied, taking a step back to make sure Jack had enough room to climb up.

He took a deep breath. Another glance to the ground, then to Rebecca’s smug face. Jack shouldn’t have looked. He was getting angrier. Then, he twisted his body toward the lip of the roof. The fence clattered as Jack kicked off of it. He thrust his arms into the air, fingers out to catch the lip.

Time slowed. His legs kicked at the air for more height. The roof fell into view as Jack’s jump gave him just enough height. He clasped the edge with both hands. His body pulled him down, but he maintained his grip. His muscles contracted as he pulled himself up. His shoulder rolled onto the rooftop, then the rest of his body. Jack stared up at the sky, his arms splayed flat out onto the tin roof.

“Shove your magic,” Jack huffed.

Rebecca slid into Jack’s view, her hands behind her back. Her hair cascaded down her head, casting Jack in shadow. “Oh, I didn’t use magic.”

“What? You totally did.”

“Nope.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Am not,” Rebecca said as she found her place on the roof. She stretched her arms and legs out.

“Becca, get your hair out of my face!” Jack spat the loose locks out of his mouth.

“Oh, sorry,” Rebecca pulled her hair away like she was a mother admonishing a child. “It’s Friday, so the first week’s almost over. What do you think?”

“It sucks.”

“Oh, come on, it isn’t that bad.”

“It is that bad.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You know why.”

“I won’t until you tell me.”

“Read my mind.”

“I can’t do that.”

“You act like you know what I’m thinking, so do it.”

Rebecca sat up and brought her head over Jack’s. She cupped her fingers to her forehead and brought her face closer. “Woo woo woo.”

“What in the fuck are you doing?” Jack stared.

“Reading your mind,” Rebecca said. “Now shut up, I’m trying to focus.”

The red-gem on Rebecca’s forehead glimmered. His instincts took over. He grabbed Rebecca’s shoulders and shoved her away.

“O-oh, okay!” Rebecca slid back. “I got the memo. Sorry, sorry!”

“No,” Jack shook his head. “Sorry. I didn’t meant to do that. It’s just, well…”

“I get it. I went a little too far,” Rebecca scooched closer to Jack. She rested a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry about that.”

“Did you get anything?”

“Yep, you’re upset.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, I wonder why.”

“See? I can read your mind.”

She can read Jack’s mind like he can read the ingredients on the side of a cereal box. All of the ingredients are laid bare. Rebecca plus prodding plus Jack equals annoyed. It’s not a complex algorithm or a problem that needs solving. It’s obvious. He clicked his tongue and fell back onto the rooftop, his arms serving as makeshift pillows. “How much time do we have left for lunch?”

“Forty minutes,” Rebecca furrowed her brow. “Probably.”

“What do you mean probably?”

“I said what I said. I don’t carry a watch on me.”

“Check your phone.”

“Oh, right,” Rebecca frowned. “That has time on it, doesn’t it?”

“Were you raised in a barn?”

“No, just the desert.”

Jack eyed Rebecca. Her darker complexion was a constant reminder of her heritage. Well, that and her sharp ears. Apparently she had elven blood. How did he keep forgetting that?

“Ah ha, yeah, we have forty minutes,” Rebecca said. “Got it right on the first guess. Well, I guess it's thirty nine minutes now?”

Jack sighed. “I’m surprised.”

“About what?”

“How well you adapted.”

“Oh, well, I’ve been around,” she shrugged. “It’s not that hard.”

‘Not that hard’. Jack noticed how some of the other students looked at her. They weren’t uttering insults, but they did keep a noticeable distance. An invisible boundary persisted between Rebecca and the other students. Whether it was racial or cultural, he wasn’t sure. Helvenova was a distinct place with diverse communities in different pockets of society. The main difference is that Rebecca’s homeland, Kaldain, was a protectorate of Helevenova. It had been for the past fifty years. Jack didn’t claim to know what, exactly, happened there—but Rebecca’s people were displaced.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” Rebecca tilted her head.

“For your home.”

“Oh, come on, Jack. Don’t start with that crap. I get enough of that from the teachers.” She paused. “Sorry, ‘professors’.”

Jack cracked a smile.

“There we go, that’s better!”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said as he felt Rebecca’s fingers pry his cheeks apart.

“Stop apologizing!”

“But—”

“The only ‘but’ here is going to be my foot on yours if you don’t stop!”

Jack sighed, raising his arms up, palms flat in surrender.

“Good boy!” She patted him on the head. “So, you want a treat?”

“Now you’re just being patronizing.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t listen to what I say.”

“It is.”

“It isn’t!”

Whose fault it was didn’t matter as it took two to tango. Their verbal sparring match carried itself through the lunch hour. The topics shifted from Jack’s apologetics to what Rebecca thought of her professors. She didn’t have much in the way of difficult classes. Or, rather, it was more accurate to say that Rebecca didn’t have a hard time with practical exams. She typically walked away with a modest 70 or 80%. Her written scores were a little worse, often hovering between 50 to 60%. Jack offered to help her study, but she always blew him off because ‘that sounded boring’. Of course it was. He laughed because he couldn’t really imagine her saying anything else.

As time passed, Jack and Rebecca sat with their legs hanging over the roof’s incline. Jack munched on a breakfast bar and Rebecca tore into an apple. She tossed it from one hand into the other. “So, do you want to start heading back?”

“No, not really,” Jack said, taking another bite.

“Mr. Saotome might come looking for us again.”

“Look for you? Yes, you’re the favorite. Me? No.”

“He cares about you too.”

“It’s hard to say, considering you can’t see his face.” Jack frowned. He could never get a read on the guy. The mechanics of social interaction require a few things to establish, and cultivate, trust. One of the most important was being able to look the person you’re talking to in the eye. That didn’t apply to Mr. Saotome. It wasn’t because Jack wasn’t willing to look him in the eye, no, it was because he literally couldn’t.

Mr. Saotome was invisible.

“It’s not that hard, just look at the space between his collar and his hat.”

“That doesn’t weird you out?”

“Nope.”

Jack sighed. “You’re weird.”

“Yep.” Rebecca tore another chunk off of the apple. She pressed her palms flat against the roof and kicked off. Her jacket and long hair flowed in the wind as she jumped. A faint ‘something’ appeared at her feet. A circle of something. Whatever it was slowly guided her descent to the ground. It was all at once. It didn’t look like an Esper power, or any use of magic he had ever seen.

“Rebecca?” Jack said.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Rebecca looked up at him as nothing had changed. She was on the ground. No injury, she didn’t fall, she was completely fine. “Oh, I know!”

“What?”

“You want me to catch you,” Rebecca grinned. “Come on, you can jump! I believe in you!”

"Shove it, Becca." Jack turned, walking toward the far side of the rooftop. As Jack started down the incline, he stopped. A light caught his eye. The sun glistened off of the skyscrapers in the distance. The wind carried with it the rustling of trees and the ocean's waves.

“Hey, Jack, you coming or what?”

Jack sighed. “Yeah.”

He climbed down the chainlink fence. The fence clattered as he descended. After a moment, he made landfall. Jack rounded the enclosure to the front where a waiting Rebecca stood.

“You were right, it wasn’t a bad view.”

“I told you so.” Rebecca pried the door open.

Jack walked back inside, leaving what little remained of the lunch break behind. He turned back toward Rebecca as the door slammed shut.

They had a class to attend.