Chapter 40 #4
It was something I’d been wrestling with myself, regardless of the fact that I was using the draft to justify my being here.
I wanted to be a soldier. I wanted to protect my loved ones.
But did I want to fight for everything Mictlan stood for?
I knew the consequences of my actions, should anyone find out who I really was.
I knew the state wouldn’t be kind to someone like me, and that this small act of rebellion could put me in a position to be imprisoned, auctioned, or even executed.
I knew I might never be able to live life openly as who I really was, so long as Mictlan was my home.
I knew all of this, but I was still here, against all odds, and actively choosing it every day.
I was here to fight for my own oppressor on some misguided hope that things could change one day, and I might be the one to bring them about.
That my nation could become better than it was, purely because it was the one I knew and wanted to improve.
Because the alternative—the reality—that I would always be powerless and insignificant, that I was a hungry child shouting at disinterested, self-serving kings, was harder to bear.
They told me I had the power to make a change. This was a Democratic System, after all. Even if it felt like a system where the majority held the minority captive right now, the minority could possibly sway the majority opinion in their favor. Surely this was cohesive and fair governance.
And yet still, I fought for this nation, because still, I wanted to believe that somewhere, deep in that system, there was something left that hadn’t been corrupted by the decay of greed. I had to believe that.
Vann was my justification, but he wasn’t my reason.
“Isn’t it always about power?” He said plainly.
“When I’m in my Shinka, I have power that I’ll never have as a civilian, or even just as a human being, and there’s no other way to get it than to go this route.
” He stopped himself, as if realizing exactly how dangerous of territory we were treading into with this conversation.
But I wanted to hear it. I wanted to know his reason.
“So even someone like you can feel weak sometimes,” I stated, with only a hint of teasing, to goad him into continuing.
I needed to understand who he was on a real level, in this rare moment that we were perhaps both too intoxicated to hold back.
There was no value in keeping him as an enemy anymore.
“Don’t make me bench press you with one hand, Mishka,” he shot back with a playful lift of his brow.
“But you’re not wrong. The irony is I went most of my life being completely at the mercy of everyone and everything around me, and this was an option that gave me the ability to take back control.
I was surrounded by people who were trampled by evil men, and I had no ability to stop it, so I picked a route that might one day give me the opportunity to be the hero I needed.
It probably doesn’t sound good to say I didn’t sign up for the love of my country, but this place has already put me through hell.
If I can use that system to my advantage for once, then I would be a fool not to.
” He covered his mouth with his knuckles, and his gaze dropped, as though he regretted putting those words into the world.
“If you thought we were all here because we’re hardcore, noble patriots, I’m sorry to disappoint. I’m just here to fight for myself.”
Me too, I wanted to say, but with every mask I wore right now, those thoughts wouldn’t make sense without an explanation I couldn’t give. “It’s just picking the lesser evil, really.”
Elio shook his head. “I’ve never lived in Gehenna, so I don’t really know if they’re more or less evil. I suspect that by this stage of human existence, everywhere is fucked up in its own special way. This is just the cesspool I was born in, and I’d rather swim than sink.”
It was almost unsettling how closely he mirrored my own thoughts, when we’d been at an impasse of understanding between us for so long. I let him talk, not wanting to interrupt.
“Besides that, what else was there for me?” He took a long drink this time, like he needed that liquid courage to speak his thoughts out loud.
“I was an orphan from a bad family, who ended up with a worse family, with a rap sheet two miles long and scars that painted me as a disobedient toy. I basically had the option to join the military and try to climb the ranks until I mattered to the state, or end up in prison from whatever else I would be doing to get by. Not all of us had scholarship programs at our fingertips.” A hint of bitterness surfaced in his words, but I didn’t think it was actually directed at me.
“They don’t exactly hand out scholarships for nothing.” It was my turn to purse my lips at him. Earning a spot in Medella had been a huge amount of work, considering it was something I didn’t legitimately want.
He snorted and rolled his head to face me, meeting my gaze with an easy smile that was contrary to his hard features.
“Of every little thing in this world that you’re shit at, I’m well aware that ‘putting in the work’ is not among them.
” His ability to masterfully blend insults and compliments was second to none, and yet it still made me blush to hear it.
He shook a hand through his hair, briefly obscuring his face in the process.
“But we didn’t have any scholarships in Mictlan.
Those were reserved for the people who were forced to assimilate to soften the blow of hostile takeover.
The rest of us got the hostility without any chocolate under the pillow.
” His half smile attempted to bring humor to the situation, but his eyes didn’t reflect it.
“I hope your sister is doing alright without you.”
My expression sank at the sudden segue, and I grabbed the bottle to take another drink. It still burned brutally through my esophagus, but it was easier the more I sipped on it. “I hope so, too.”
I wished I could check in on Vann. I wished I could be open with any of the men in my life about what I was really doing here.
Now more than ever, I wanted to tell Elio that I was the sister who was hiding from it all.
We were both using appearance alteration to run from reality, but he was the only one who was allowed to admit it.
What would he think of me if he found out I was a woman all this time? Would he hate me? Would he think less of me? Would he forgive me? Would he keep my secret?
Despite this moment of trust and vulnerability, I was still alone in this small and selfish rebellion, and I had to stay that way.
He took the next drink. We’d cached more than half of the contents between the two of us, now. Without another word, he grabbed my hand, lifted my wrist, and tapped my CHRONO to activate the projection on my knuckles.
I was about to pull away, realizing he was incredibly close to noticing the covert CHRONO I wore beneath the thinner modern band, but all he did was place his fingerprint in my contacts and let go.
“After all of this is over, if you go back home and find out she needs saving, call me. If you thought I was rough when you faced me on the mat, I’d love to show you what I can do when I actually want to hurt someone.
” He gave me a wink, as if to imply he wasn’t even trying when he broke me into pieces, and I would have slapped him if that wasn’t a disturbingly sweet offer in its own way.
I might have to take him up on that one day.
Maybe if he’d met Fianna, we would have gotten along.
So instead, I nodded, took another drink, then I leaned back against the wall next to him. Our arms touched, just barely. Some part of me wanted to lean into him. To rest my head on his shoulder and fall asleep. He was always so warm.
That was the alcohol talking.
Elio wasn’t a safe person for me or anyone else. He was rough and broken and cruel. He was the villain in my story, not an ally. Not a friend. Not someone to trust.
So why was this so comfortable?
“If you’re tired, get some sleep. I’ll wake you up in time to make your Orientation.” Elio rolled his head to look at the wall, no longer offering eye contact as he spoke.
“I can stay up a little longer,” I said, placing the bottle back between us, after we’d both drained it just a bit closer to the bottom.
A ghost of a smile teased at his lips. “If you do, I’m going to end up carrying you and your sand bags up that hill.”
“I only weigh eight specks. I think you can handle it.” In hindsight, for two people who had been at each other’s throats for months now, we had an unsettling number of inside jokes.
I gave into the nagging desire to inch into his aura just a little closer, he being the only warmth in this cold metal room.
With a sigh that was so terribly burdened, he put an arm around me and pulled me into the crux of his shoulder.
He was as hard and hot as always, but I fit so comfortably there.
That was just the alcohol talking, too.
“Yeah, I think I can handle that,” he said with an unusual softness that wasn’t mocking for once. He closed his eyes for a second longer than a standard blink, then huffed a single amused exhale through his nose. “Although I think we both know you won’t let anyone carry you, even if you need it.”
“So you do pay attention.” So warm. I snuggled in, and I relented to the heavy weight of my eyelids.
His arm wrapped tighter around me, securing me in a protective cocoon and keeping me snug on his chest, while the sound of his heart beat thumped quickly in my ear.
It was both soothing and chaotic, and I smiled to myself at how distinctly Elio that combination was.
“You’re just hard to ignore,” he whispered, barely audibly, to the point I may have only imagined it.
He rested his chin on top my head, and the comfortable pressure as I was completely engulfed by his aura was the final blow.
It was seconds or it was minutes or it was no time at all that I was pulled under into a deep and inviting sleep.