Kya Carter
It was three in the morning by the time my night of festivities ended. If I was anyone else, I would've dropped dead of exhaustion by the time this whole thing even started. But I'm Kya Carter, and because of my tie to the moon, I'm an insomniac who comes even more alive at night. After dancing, Alistair took me to the best vendors this little village has to offer. When I could, I discretely flashed the Dragon medallion, prompting the sellers to say "on the house."
We both got a rice cake and sat on a ledge, watching as the crowd got thinner and thinner with exhaustion and the fireworks show got less extravagant, nibbling on the snack. Neither of us said it, but we both knew that this would be the last thing we do together tonight. I wonder if there will be room for more nights like this, or room for Alistair at all. He's been a great companion, as well as a fantastic change of pace from my normally hectic life. I could use a bit of this more often.
I steal a glance at Alistair, who serenely gazes at the sky, his blue eye the one visible to me. Ethereal. That's what this is: magical, but bound to end and leave me wanting more. I frown at the fact, but am grateful that I got this opportunity at all – to feel like a normal teen girl who stays out late, dances with charming strangers, and gets those wily butterflies in her stomach.
Too quickly, we finish our desserts. Neither of us say anything for a while, both of us watching the crackling display of gunpowder and listen to their explosions. Finally, Alistair Azarias breaks the silence, glancing down at me. "It's getting late." Meaning: we should get going our separate ways.
"It is," I agree, sliding off the ledge and adjusting my kimono. "I had a fantastic time, thanks to you."
Boyishly, he grins, but there's a hint of sadness in his eyes, too. "Well, you shouldn't be the only one saying thank you. I had a blast." We stand next to each other, staring into the other's eyes, trying to find words to say.
"You should get home," I tell him, sounding more dismal than I meant to. "Your parents might be worried."
"Parents? I'm in my twenties, I live on my own," he teases. "Anyways, they're not around anymore..." A dark expression crosses his face. Was it their death that tore his strings? Or something else? I may never get to find out. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go down that path." He tries to laugh off the awkward air around the sensitive topic. "I'll call a cab for you."
"Thanks," I hesitantly say, mind whirring while Alistair speaks Japanese on the phone. I wonder how long he's lived in Japan to become so fluent.
"We have to walk two blocks and they'll be there. I can wait with you; it will only take a few minutes," he tells me, stealing my hand and gently holding it. He offers me one of his lopsided grins as my face flushes a bit. As we walk, he asks, "Do you live far from here?"
"Not at all!" I cheerily chirp, then worry if I sound too eager. Maybe Alistair lives around here, too, and we can see each other again sometime. Clearing my throat, I attempt for more nonchalance and ask, "Do you?"
"Umm..." he scratches the back of his head with a free hand. "I move around. Jumping from one hotel to another, couch surfing at the mercy of some friends."
"Oh." He doesn't have a reason to stay. "I see." Though I was expecting not seeing him again, I'm still a touch let down. We wait at the designated spot, the arrival of a cab inevitable. "How long do you plan on staying here?"
Alistair shrugs. "A day. Maybe two." Knowingly, he looks at me with a sly glint in his eyes. "Were you hoping for more time with me, Ms. Carter?"
I huff and look away to hide my blush, only confirming his thoughts. "I was just curious," I lie, anyways. "Is that the standard time you stay in places? What's your longest stay?"
"Probably a whole month, over in Kyoto. It's a quaint place. Busy, but quaint." This place seems busy and quaint. Why can't he stay longer? Frowning, I tell myself it's for the best, anyways. The more he gets to know me, the more likely it is that he'll find out what I am, and the less special this night would be. My frown turns into a grimace when I feel something like a knife wring through my chest and give it a few hefty twists, sparing me no mercy. Ren, what's happening? The pain only gets worse. So much to the extent that I gasp and start to knead my chest, right over my heart, as if to ease the pain. "Kya, are you okay?" Alistair nervously questions, ducking his head to see my face better. He tucks the loose strands of my hair behind my ears and tilts my chin up to face him better. "What's happening?"
"No, I'm fine," I dismiss, waving him off with strained actions. Emotions of devastation, fear, and wrath consume me and try to override my own feelings. I've never felt the Swap between Ren and I so fiercely. I take an enormous inhale, then slowly let it dissipate. I know that whatever is at the dojo won't be anything normal, but a giant shove guiding me back into my chaotic lifestyle.
Alistair gives me a wary look as the taxi's headlights turn a corner and start heading down the street towards us. "I'm really okay," I promise, offering him a weak grin.
"...alright," he unsurely responds, not quite believing me but not having a reason not to. I'm almost positive the checkered vehicle sped here as it halts right in front of us. "Well, this is it."
My heart races as I stare up at him. I want to express my gratitude for giving me a break, but can't do so without telling him exactly what it is he gave me a break from. I want to hop in the car and hurry to Ren's home, desperate to know that everyone is okay and just rattled. I don't know how to do either and say goodbye to Alistair at the same time. I remember something he said before we started dancing. As if possible, my poor little heart beats faster and harder, pumping so hard it might just burst out of my chest. It speeds up, knowing that I'm about to do something totally out of my comfort zone.
"You played your cards right," I tell him, words slightly rushed with my buzzing energy.
Alistair furrows his brows, perplexed. "What?"
I instantly regret saying anything, but I've already blurted out nonsense. I might as well go through with what I wanted to spit out. "Right before we danced, you..." Once more, everything in my body heats up with anxiety and those butterflies flutter from my stomach and to my throat, making it hard to breathe. I get ahold of myself enough to muster the rest out. "You said if you played your cards right, my hand wouldn't be the only thing you kissed."
He doesn't say anything; merely looks down at me in shock. In the short time we've known each other, he knows that I'm not typically a bold person. That I prefer pacifism to war, that I'm never the one to inspire a movement without dire cause. "Kya..."
Setting my jaw, I let out my final breath. "You played your cards right, okay?" I almost plead. Before I can talk myself out of it, I get on my toes, clench my eyes shut, grab the collar of Alistair's kimono to pull him a little lower, and press my lips to his. The thought of giving my first kiss to him never occurred to me, which means I didn't have time to worry about if I was doing it right.
At first, it was a fumbling mess. I'm not experienced whatsoever, but I know that this wasn't what a kiss was supposed to be. Alistair retracts his mouth a bit, but returns to mine, correcting the position of our soft lips. Now this feels more like a kiss. Something cool and wet sweeps across my bottom lip, making me part my mouth a bit more. Alistair wraps his arms around my back and presses me close while my hands cup the sides of his face. I sense something in him slowly unwind, like one of his knotted strings detangles itself and restores to its normal position.
I'm not sure who breaks away first, but when we do, both of us are clearly flustered. Suddenly, I'm back to being the quiet Kya who stays up with the moon, feeling lonely when I'm without the stars. Awkwardness practically radiates from me, and I say the first thing that pops into my head. "Thank you." When I realize the idiocy of my words, I close my eyes for a second and scold myself. To avoid any other clumsy mistakes, I slide inside the backseat of the cab.
I start to shut my door, but Alistair's hand grips the frame and keeps it open. "Where do you live?" he hurriedly asks, hungrily waiting to grasp my next words. I don't answer, not wanting to have to explain why I'm living with the Dragon, who we both dislike. "Wait, that sounded weird. Just..." he sighs, running out of his charmer's words. "I'll extend my stay to a week. If we meet up again, then it's a sign."
"A sign?" I echo.
"Yeah," he answers, grinning like an adorable idiot. "Like the universe telling me that I haven't run out of cards to play yet."
I forget about the Swap's effects on me and smile. "Deal."
Alistair ducks inside the taxi. "Take care of this one," he says to the driver. His odd-colored eyes rest on mine a second longer before he shuts the door. I try not to be obvious as I look back while we drive away. Alistair and I watch each other until neither of us are visible.
I pull my medallion from my kimono pocket and tell the driver, "The Dragon's place, please."
I'm dropped off at the foot of the stairs. Above, the grand archway looks more like a mouth, waiting to swallow me up and make sure I never get out again. My steps are tentative, fearful of the high of tonight wearing off, or maybe of what lies beyond the red arch. I'm almost sluggish, and I realize part of it is because I don't want to go inside. I don't want to face Ren, who hates me; Elektra, who couldn't care less if I died; Leo and Sarah, who incorrectly think the world of me. Deep down, I know these feelings are temporary. That I'm only thinking these things because tonight was probably too splendid for my own good.
I drag myself to the top of my steps, my legs numb with the jittery lingering of a kiss, heart thumping with dread of what I'm about to experience. I'm not even through the archway when an uncontrollably pacing silhouette stops and flicks their gaze to me. Fiery, golden eyes look at me with nothing but hatred, as expected. There's no need to fake empathy with me anymore, after all. "And just where the hell were you?" Ren interrogates, storming to me.
"At your celebration. Why?" I respond.
I don't need to be close to Ren to know he's seething. His breathing is audibly heavy, his plainclothes wrinkled, his hair disheveled, his eyes wild. Tonight, they glow exceptionally bright. "I have Sages assigned to all of us, making sure we stay safe. They travel together usually. You decided to prance off on your own with God-knows-who to play ditsy for a night, which means one of the Sages had to stray away and follow you." Gradually, his voice grows louder and louder, his temper spiraling out of control. Last time this happened, back at the café in Maine, I held him to soothe his nerves. Now, that is out of the question.
"Big deal," I spit. "So the group wasn't together – oh, no. Sorry I was out having fun instead of sulking around, Ren."
Ren meets my side, through gritted teeth, he says, "Let me show you what you've cost us, Kya." He reaches out to snag my upper arm, and right before his fingertips touch me, he stops. Ren stares at the spot where he would've gripped me and dragged me to whatever is causing his distress. Uncomfortably, he drops his arm. I don't know if he does it so he doesn't burn me again, or if it's because he wants nothing to do with me. A coldblooded killer. That's what he thinks of me. If I were him, I wouldn't want to touch me, either. I press my lips together, thinking, but Alistair did.
"What did you want to show me?" I ask him, upbraiding myself when my voice softens, as if some part of me feels pity for Ren.
Ren grunts as a response, then stalks across the pavilion, expecting me to follow him. I do. He leads me into the cafeteria, where a Sage is laid across a table, other Sages and my friends running about. Elektra amplifies the lighting so it's extra bright, Leo collects towels and rags, and Sarah takes blood-soaked cloths away from the scene. Gauze is passed to a doctoring Sage. All I can see is blood and a body. They must be alive for the Sages to be working on them, but I don't know how bad the injury is, and I don't know if I want to know.
"This wasn't my fault," I whisper, watery eyes negating my words. On the inside, I do feel responsible for whatever happened. If I hadn't followed some stranger downtown, then this never would have happened. "I didn't mean for this to happen..." I look up to Ren, who stares down at me without emotion. He is cold and cruel, his brows creased with accusation. "How could I have known this would happen?"
"You should have been more cautious," he bites, voice gruff and harsh. "While you were having fun, that man wasn't getting tortured. Would you like to know the damage, Cinderella? Would you like to know the price he paid for your recklessness and irresponsibility?"
I knew he hated me – he said it straight to my face. But does he really have to go out of his way to make sure I understand he meant his words? I don't know if it's Ren's anger with me or my guilt that causes teardrops to chase each other down my cheeks.
"Ren..." Sarah says nearby, listening in on us. She flashes him a cautionary glance, as if warning him to calm down.
Ren ignores her. "No, I think your saint deserves to know her sins. That Sage is missing three toenails from each foot. He's lost an index finger, severed a femur, broken four ribs, had a tooth carved out of his face, a knife ripped through one of his cheeks, and an eye hanging half out of his socket. How does it feel, Kya?"
"Ren..." Sarah stresses, tone getting sharper.
He barrels on, disregarding her. The diagnosis of the Sage his horrifying, and I can't maintain the strength to stand anymore. My knees wobble, my breathing is short and erratic, and I can't bring myself to take an inhale. I sink to the ground, wishing I could melt away. To chastise me further, Ren bends down to yell at me. "How does it feel to be responsible for yet another person's wellbeing? Does it make you happy? Do you get off on it? Because you seem to do it a lot. Look around, Kya. This is what you do to people who just want to look after you. You did it to your parents and now you're doing it to us."
"Ren!" Sarah shouts. "That's enough. This isn't her fault."
Ren's words slowly start to click together, and I understand he's trying to say that what happened to the Sage is like what I did to my parents. I may be inundated with stress and guilt and sorrow, but I'm still sensible enough to notice the flaw in his claim. Slowly, I blink away my tears, and when I look up, I'm surprised to see that Ren's eyes are also swimming. His tight grimace wavers, as if he's trying to be furious but sadness outweighs the madness. My own depression doubles, not because of what Ren said, but because it's what Ren feels. Does he feel bad about what he's said? If so, why does he say it? Why is he doing this to me?
I want to reach out and clutch his arm to beg for clarity. To ask him to stop saying these things to me and go back to when I considered him a friend. Instead, I bring myself to stand, unbalanced and wobbly. "This is nothing like that and you know it," I whisper, voice a tremor.
Recognition and regret flood his eyes. "Just go away," he whimpers. "Just stay away from me."
Before we can exchange any more words, he turns on his heels and stalks away, rounding up a few burly Sages for a meeting elsewhere. Uneasily, Sarah watches me, and I don't need to be Leo to know what's exactly on her mind. You did it to your parents and now you're doing it to us, Ren said. It's a no-brainer that she's curious as to what I did to my parents...or how it would ever relate to a dying Sage on a cafeteria table.
I try to force down the impact of my encounter with Ren. I can think about everything later tonight, but for now, there's a man suffering at my partial expense, and I'm not going to let him die. I brush past the precautious Sarah, nudge my way between Sages who merely watch their comrade, and ask one of the doctors what I can do to help.
"Hold him down," he instructs, eyeing the Sage's femur, which has broken through his skin. "This is going to hurt...a lot." The doctor positions himself in the best possible way to perform his actions accurately.
The dojo fills with screams of a man who was harmed for doing nothing but his job. The femur is pushed back into the man's leg, and his skin is seared together with fear from Ren, who popped in when needed. The smell of burning skin is pungent and bitter; enough to make me gag. Once that's over, the doctor claims that his team can take it from here.
Without a cursory glance, Ren turns and walks away, acting as if I never existed. Furious and hurt, I stomp after him, determined to get answers as to where his cruelty is coming from. I don't want to believe he only used me to get here. What I do want to believe is that he opened up to me; that everything he's said to me about his past and his feelings and his struggles were true – that he wasn't just appealing to my sense of remorse to bend me to his will.
I follow Ren as he takes a sharp turn into the hallway where all our rooms are. Nobody else is here, and when I'm in the vicinity, I call his name. "Ren..." My voice wavers more than I thought it would, and it's too strained to even be heard. It's barely even a breath. Clenching my fists, I pick up my pace and clutch Ren's arm, giving it a small tug, beckoning him to look at me.
His eyes are rimmed red, his cheeks damp from tears that still run down his face. I should hate him the way he hates me. I should laugh at his weakness, or call him out for talking a big game of being the Dragon, but being nothing more than a child.
But the only thing I hate, is that I don't hate him...even now.
I reach up, wiping Ren's tears away, which only seems to make them flow more profusely. Am I the reason he's crying in the first place? Why? None of it makes sense.
Ren turns his head away so I can't touch his cheeks, his feathering jaw telling me he's trying to hold back emotion. I let my hands drop to my sides like they weigh a ton. "Stop," I tell him. The simple word makes him look sidelong at me. "Stop doing this to me."
For a split second, his unforgiving glower softens, and it looks like he never wanted to hurt me in the first place. Hope makes me wonder if he's going to stop acting this way and tell me why he's been pushing me away so much. Eagerly, I stare at him, waiting for a response. I receive none, so I speak again. I have no idea what I was planning to say, or if I even planned a thing to say at all. In the slightest whisper, I cry, "It hurts."
Ren's brows knit together and his eyes squint with sentiment. More and more tears escape from the corners of his golden eyes, confirming that whatever reason he has for this breakdown is somehow related to me. He's vulnerable. Strike him where it hurts, a darker part of me thinks. Screw off, I tell it. But the voice is right: he is vulnerable. He's the most broken man I've ever seen, right here in this hallway, and for some reason, I'm the only person who ever seems to see his soft spots. "Kya, I-" he reaches his hand out towards my face, but like his words, his hand stops short. He chokes with emotion and lets it fall.
For an eternity, he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them back up, he's much more composed. Ren's walls are back up and he takes a step away from me. "I won't tell you again," he warns me. "Stay away from me." Ren turns his back on me and proceeds down the hall, gait confident and strong despite the lonely and lost look in his eyes a minute ago.
I watch him leave, not knowing if I should take comfort in the fact that he feels bad for hurting me, or if I should be alarmed that I don't care if he hurts me, as long as he stops hurting himself in the process.
Night was remorseless to me, as it used to be. On the observation deck, I'm nothing more than the Kya Carter who used to watch the Asylum courtyard, high in her nest. Again, I'm alone, labored by my darkest thoughts, and wishing I could be anywhere else but knowing I won't be going anytime soon. I use the quiet hours to make myself useful.
Through Ren's admonishment, there were nuggets of truth. While a Sage was getting tortured, I was out having fun, forgetting my responsibility to my friends. Sure, I should have a break every now and then, but during a heavily condensed town of strangers? I should have at least been more alert. Could have, should have, would have.
Taking a deep breath, I look up and admire the twinkling stars, yearning to be as far away from here as they are. I recall what one of the Sages told me when I first arrived – that if I wanted to get rid of my power, the only chance I'd have is to forget I ever had it. Memory wiping seemed a bit excessive then, but it's times like these that I don't think so.
I decided before I came up here that if Ren wants space from me, then that's fine. That if Sarah asks about what I did to my parents, I'd tell her. It's not that I want either of these things, but if I'm going to be a better fighter and protector, then I'm going to need all my dirty laundry aired out. Because the only way to get stronger is with training.
Footsteps click across the pavilion, capturing my attention. The Sage who specializes in water bending has arrived. She peers up, crystal blue eyes bright in contrast to her dusty gray hair, which is pulled back in a tight ponytail. "Ms. Carter," she calls. Tonight, she isn't dressed in the draping robes of a Sage, but tight-fitting sportswear. I, too, have traded my prized kimono for such an outfit. "Are you ready to begin?"
I grin as I hurriedly step down the ladder. I'm nervous about practicing with my powers without holding back, but I know I'm in good hands. "I'm ready," I tell her.