Chapter 24 #3
Was this where I admitted I watched too many horror movies? Horror movies weren’t considered a girl thing, were they?
“It’s a figure of speech.” I scoffed, then I shifted on his hips, trying to readjust and steady myself, and I swear I felt something hard twitch beneath me.
My heart barely had the time to skip a beat as he released his grip on my waist, then with a sudden thunk, he dropped his ass back to the mat, and he had me flipped onto my back, cocooned beneath him, both my wrists pinned under his, and his knees trapping my thighs between them in that violent reversal I’d been waiting for.
The pressure of his weight on top of me was crushing to the point I didn’t even bother to fight it.
By the stars, consider this confirmation that he had at least a hundred pounds on me.
“Well let me teach you another figure of speech, Mishka.” He ground the heel of his hand into my palm, then he leaned in, his forearms covering my forearms as he got close enough to whisper in my ear.
“You’re nothing. If you think getting a lucky shot in a simulator means you have what it takes to pilot a real Shinka, when you can barely keep up when I’m going easy on you, then you’re going to get us all killed.
” I choked on the mess of blood and mucus in the back of my throat, exacerbated by this position, and the droplets speckled red on his cheek.
Elio smirked while I wanted to cry and throw up.
“Train fucking harder. We don’t have room in this war for another burden.
” He released me and climbed back to his feet.
He wiped the blood off his cheek with the back of his hand, then took a moment to tenderly examine the smears on his knuckles, while I remained on my back, staring up through the Mictlan dome at the fading daylight of Saturn’s brief light cycle.
I rolled onto my side, facing away from my dorm mate, because I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore as I clenched my ribs in agony. I didn’t know if the Restoration Pods would be enough to fix this. I’d probably be a mess for weeks, even with the technologically accelerated healing.
What was I supposed to do against someone like that?
I was in way over my head. At least when I was in school, I could grab a flowerpot or throw fake grass in their eyes.
But one-on-one, muscle against muscle, skill against skill, I was completely out matched.
The only good thing I could say was if he did notice the discrepancy between my appearance and the feel of my waist, he didn’t say anything or push further, but that was hardly a comfort when he noticed all of the ways I was weaker than him.
It wasn’t ever going to be a fair fight.
He’d been training his whole life. Even if I really was Vann, I would have ended up just as easily pinned, right? Vann was strong, but Elio was a completely different beast. He was a built killing machine, while I was just a mortal nothing.
“Oh and Vann.” Elio’s voice was unwelcome noise behind me. “The room is mine. Find somewhere else to sleep.”
His footsteps trailed off, and I heard the gate open and close behind him. There was some miserable irony that this was the first time he’d called me by my name.
I stayed on my side, not moving, willing my bones to stitch themselves back together, while blood and snot rolled down my cheek and pooled on the mat.
This sucked.
I inhaled until it hurt too much to take in anymore air, then I committed to slowly getting back up.
Now that my adrenaline was completely gone, I took my time, trying not to move in any way that hurt too much—which was impossible considering literally everything hurt too much—and somehow I righted myself, and made my way out of the training area.
But where was I supposed to go?
I walked along, holding my ribs like a sad husk of a person, when I was supposed to be celebrating and overjoyed, having nearly made rank.
I made my way to the restoration chambers, and I climbed into a pod.
I stayed in for a full hour, hoping the extra time would recover enough of my muscular tears for me to make Basics tomorrow.
It helped, but the bone still felt broken, dispelling any misguided hope that it was just a bad contusion.
Even accelerated, it would take at least a week or three to be anywhere near normal when it came to bone damage.
I glanced at my CHRONO, trying to figure out my plan for the night. I hovered over Breaker’s contact.
Maybe he could help. That was his job, right?
My lip trembled, and a sense of shame washed over me.
No, I didn’t want to call him. I didn’t want anyone else to see me like this. His pity would only make this situation feel even more like a defeat.
I closed the display on my CHRONO, then took a ten count to breathe.
On the last cycle, a sense of determination hit me. Resentment hit me.
Fuck Elio.
He couldn’t kick me out of my own room. He didn’t get to beat me up and make me sleep outside, just because he wanted to. Maybe I’d never have his respect, but I wasn’t going to let him push me around either.
He’d been toying with me on the mat. He’d treated me like a chew toy for his own amusement, and I couldn’t just let that stand.
I hyped myself up for the whole angry and determined walk back to the dorm, hoping I wouldn’t lose my nerve. The halls were empty, everyone already long since heading to bed for the night. My angry footsteps echoed off the metal walls as I approached my dorm.
I stood in front of the entryway for only a second, then I pressed my palm to the lock before I could talk myself out of it.
The door whirred open, and I walked into the short hall, past the bathroom, and into the bed chamber. Elio was on his bed, no shirt, grey sweats, his headphones on, his hands behind his head, with his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep.
The vindictive side of me considered waking him up and yelling at him. Considering he’d not slept in the room for the two months since I arrived, he was probably exhausted, and ruining his rest would be the highest form of torture.
But the mentally, physically, and emotionally drained side of me decided it was better to just sneak past him and get some rest myself. Maybe if he got a full night’s sleep, he wouldn’t be such an asshole.
Much to my dismay, my inner commitment to kindness and charity was irrelevant as I was immediately stopped in my tracks by the words, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I slowly turned to face him, no clue how he could have heard me with those headphones on. Maybe he wasn’t being overdramatic when he said he couldn’t sleep with me in his space.
He sat up and tossed the headset onto his nightstand.
“I’m going to sleep. In my bed. In my room.” I answered, very intentionally obtuse. “I’m sorry, did I give you a concussion when I punched you? Because you seem confused.”
Elio let out a breath that almost sounded more like a laugh. “Look at the balls on you.” He scanned me up and down, his gaze fixating on places the recovery pod couldn’t fully heal in a single session.
Yes, I thought. Look at my impressive balls.
I used to think that expression was really just a way men congratulated each other for surviving being an idiot who had more luck than sense, but now that it was being applied to me…
I still thought that. Walking back into my room after that beating was proof that I made a great man.
I sat down on my bed, and started changing into my sleep clothes, which was a slow and painful process as I tried to pretend that every twist and movement of my upper body wasn’t hell embodied.
Elio just watched me, like he was patiently waiting for me to finish so he could resume mocking me.
I’d reprogrammed my A2 to allow injuries to show, and as a result, my ribs were a ghastly shade of purple, already impossible to miss even at this early stage of the contusion.
By the morning, the visible proof of my injury would probably be the size of my head.
“I think I won that little competition too,” He said, drawing my attention back to him.
He patted his bare chest to draw my attention away from his stupid face, which I admittedly didn’t protest. It was then that I noticed the very light, barely there bruising in between his pectoral muscles, precisely where I’d both head-butted and slammed my elbow into him.
I’d never been more proud of anything in my life.
This was truly a new low for human achievement.
“I don’t know if I’d call that a victory, considering taking a hit in your Shinka in the center of your chest would be game over, while this rib shot wouldn’t even slow me down.
No wonder I beat you in the simulation.” Was I dumping kerosene on a fire?
Yes. Did I know better? Also yes. But was I going to do it anyway? FUCKING yes, jackass.
“You have so much to learn.” He was unexplainably light hearted about everything right now, which was actually upsetting? Like, where did all that anger go? Was this the fighter’s equivalence of post nut clarity, or was this just a way of showing me he didn’t respect me enough to still be angry?
“Fuck you, Elio.” I grumbled, too tired and annoyed to come up with a single good comeback. Sometimes the classics were the best option.
“Is that what you were hoping for when you were sitting on top of me for so long?”
“Y-you…” My whole face caught fire, and I had absolutely nothing to say to that.
Never mind. The classics should die and stay dead.
“You’re so easy to rile up. It would almost be cute if you were a girl.” He rolled his eyes before he grabbed his headphones, and got up from the bed. “Since you’re so delicate, I’ll let you have the room this one last time. But then it’s going to be time to draw some lines.”
Wait, was he leaving?
I stared at him, dumbfounded, as he headed out the door without argument, going wherever it was he always went. The door closed behind him, and I was still staring.
After an unknown amount of stunned and confused minutes passed without him coming back, I laid down and accepted that he’d really given up the room again tonight. I guess even someone like him was capable of mercy. Barely, but technically.
It took a while to find a position that didn’t hurt, but with the day I’d had, I was out in an instant.