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Blood.
Your hands were covered in it.
The smell of it was overpowering, you could feel your bile rising in your throat.
It was still warm. Just a few minutes ago, it had been inside a living creature. Now it was on your hands, your shirt, your face.
The blood dripped from your hands and vaguely, you wondered if it would stain the carpet. If it did, your dad was going to kill you. You nearly laughed aloud at the thought of the word ‘kill’, a few minutes ago, ‘kill’ was nothing more than an exaggeration for you. Now…you stared back at your hands.
In the dim light of the room, the blood looked almost black.
Somewhere behind you, you heard the whisper of cloth—he must have wanted you to hear him—the flicker of a switch, and then the lights came on.
You squinted at the sudden brightness, trying to take in the surroundings around you. The space that had previously been yours now bore your bodyguard’s marks, as well. The wooden chest of drawers that still bore scratch marks from his latest scuffle, the flat screen television that no longer worked because he had thrown a shuriken at it and now, the latest addition, was the plush white carpet, stained green with blood.
Wait…green?
You looked down.
Yes, green.
The monster’s blood was green.
That was when you finally lost your nerve and, on shaking legs, you ran to your bathroom to puke your guts out.
*****
“You’re weak.”
That was the first thing you heard as you exited the bathroom, a wet cloth still held over your face.
Your bodyguard was sitting on your couch, his sword lying on his lap, his attention focused solely on wiping it clean.
Ever since your run-in with an A-Class villain, your father had insisted on hiring a bodyguard for your own safety. Embarrassing images of tall, muscular men following you around had disappeared almost as soon as you met the ninja. Speed o’ Sound Sonic was almost the exact opposite of how you pictured a bodyguard. He was lean instead of bulky, forgoing the suit-and-tie outfit for a skintight bodysuit.
Instead of guns and batons, he favored swords and exploding shurikens.
He wore a permanent look of disdain instead of the mysterious dark glasses that you had always pictured bodyguards wearing.
Your father had hired him on a “money is no object” kind of contract, with the only rule being “keep my youngest child safe”.
You wished that the contract also included the rule, “And try not to be an ass about it.”
Sonic was rude, crass and awfully convinced of his own superiority.
He had laughed at the way you jumped at shadows, terrified that a monster would materialize from them and grab you.
The plush apartment that your mother had worked so hard to furnish, he had scoffed at.
“This is why you’re weak, you’re surrounded by soft things. It’s a wonder you don’t suffocate in your sleep.” he had said, and you remembered the flash of shame that you felt in your belly at the words.
It was true, your apartment did look soft, from the thick, gray comforter to the cushioned sofa; your mother had gone to great pains to make sure that it was a comfortable place to live in.
You hated him.
You should hate him.
But Sonic had also saved your life, three times now.
The evidence of his latest efforts was still splattered across his bodysuit, coloring it green instead of black.
But instead of cleaning up after himself, your bodyguard’s attention was on his ninja-to, which he was cleaning meticulously with an old rag.
You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
Sonic noticed your movement and raised an eyebrow at you in question. The man had nailed to the look of “I couldn’t care less what you’re about to say but you’re going to say it anyway”.
“Thanks,” you grumbled. “For saving me.”
Sonic scoffed. “I did what I was paid to do, nothing more.”
Why weren’t you surprised?
“Thanks anyway,” you said stubbornly. No way was he going to make you feel bad about thanking him.
You didn’t want to sit right next to him on the sofa, so you decided to go to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. You didn’t really want one, you just needed to do something with your hands.
They were itching to smack the ninja at the moment.
Feeling obligated to be a good host, you called, “Want some?”
“No.”
You shrugged. More for you then.
Humming tunelessly as you prepared the ingredients, you tried to push the thoughts of what happened out of your head. You tried not to think about the blood on the carpet or the stained shirt that you left in the hamper.
It was no good, however, your hands were still shaking from the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.
Most of all, you tried not to think about your bodyguard, still busily cleaning his weapons in the living room.
Or so you thought.
“You tried to fight.”
You nearly dropped the bottle of milk.
Sonic was sitting on the counter opposite of you, staring at you with an expression that was, for the first time, not disdain.
“What did you say?” you asked.
“You tried to fight. You’re too weak to have won on your own—”
“Gee, thanks,” you said sarcastically.
Sonic ignored you and continued, “But you tried to fight.”
“Then I ran. Is that what you were going to say?” you demanded. He didn’t need to remind you of the way your heart nearly burst out of your chest when the monster had roared at you.
Once again, your words fell on deaf ears. “What did you try to use on it?”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
The ninja shrugged as if say that your answer wouldn’t matter one way or another.
“It was a stun gun, okay? My brother got it for me.”
“Stun gun,” Sonic repeated. He made it sound like a dirty word.
Then, that trademark smirk of his appeared. You hated that smirk, all sharp white teeth and no warmth in it at all.
“Is that what you use to protect yourself? Pathetic.”
Before you could say anything in your defense, there was a rush of cold wind, and the assassin was gone.
Good for him, because you might have broken the milk bottle on his head.
You could see him in your living room, pacing back and forth, occasionally tossing his head at a knickknack.
You didn’t know why—his opinion shouldn’t matter to you—but you followed him.
“All this,” Sonic said, and he swept his hand carelessly to indicate your apartment. “Is why you’re weak. Stun gun, ha, you use it because it requires no skill to wield.”
You didn’t say anything.
There was a rustle of cloth, the whisper of a blade as it was unsheathed and suddenly, the ninja was right in front of you, close, close, too close. No room to maneuver, and nothing to do but look up at his face. You always thought that Sonic looked stern, forbidding but from this distance, without a scarf covering his neck or a monster to grab his attention, you realized something—
He was actually quite handsome.
You looked away, hating yourself for the flash of heat you felt on your face.
That was when you felt the pinprick of cold steel, and you lowered your eyes to see his blade, its tip resting below his neck. The same blade that he had used to save your life, not more than an hour ago.
You nearly collapsed on the floor, right then. The idea that death was so close, so near, really just a few inches away, was more than you could bear.
“I could kill you right now and you wouldn’t have the strength to fight me,” he whispered.
People talk about how they could see murderous intent in a killer’s eyes or how they’re able to tell how good a fighter a person is, just by the way they stood.
You, however, were never good at reading people.
You didn’t know if the glint in his eyes was mischievous or murderous.
It must have been the former because you felt the pressure on your neck disappear.
You raised a hand to your neck and felt your legs turn to jelly when something warm ran down your fingers.
Oh God, he cut me.
You would have sank to the floor right then, had Sonic not placed a hand on your hip to steady you.
The smear of red on your finger made your stomach turn.
“Does it scare you?” Sonic asked gleefully.
You mumbled something under your breath.
“What? You were saying something?”
“Everything scares me,” you whispered, unable to look him in the eye.
At this Sonic laughed, and you felt tears of frustration spring to your eyes. Of course, he’d laugh at you. Of course. You didn’t expect someone like him to understand. He had probably never been scared in his life.
He stepped away from you and cold air rushed between your bodies. You shivered, suddenly wishing for his warmth.
“That’s because you don’t know how to fight,” he scoffed.
You stared at the ground, not finding the strength to look him in the face.
“You could be strong, you know.”
Your head snapped up to look at him, and for once, he wasn’t looking at you with disgust or smirking as if he had just played a prank on you.
“What did you say?” you asked, feeling as if he was playing another one of his cruel jokes.
But instead, he said, “You could be strong if you knew how.”
His words rode up your spine, went straight to your brain and suddenly, you were feeling all too lightheaded.
Was this real?
Speed o’ Sound Sonic, the one who had continuously belittled you, sneered at your efforts to stand up to a monster…was now telling you that you weren’t weak after all.
The ninja was watching your reaction, then said, “Don’t get so cocky, I said you could be, not that you are.”
“And how can I do that?” you asked quietly. You had the feeling that you weren’t going to like what he said next.
The ninja sudden grinned, and in a flash, he was gone. He was still in the room, you felt his wind as he passed you by, too fast for your eye to follow.
You had seen this before, it was Sonic’s ultimate pride: his speed.
“You want to be like me?” His words distorted as he talked.
“Untouchable. Invincible. The best assassin in the world.”
He knocked over several picture frames as passed by your drawers and you let out an indignant cry, rushing over to look at the broken frames.
You heard a thump and suddenly, Sonic was standing in the middle of your room, not even breathing hard from his exertion.
“You don’t need that,” he said dismissively, as you brushed away pieces of broken glass from the pictures. It was a picture of your family, taken at the beach, all of you smiling for the camera.
“Don’t you feel trapped?” Sonic asked.
“Trapped?” You had never thought of your life as a cage, but the way Sonic asked his question made it sound as if he already knew your answer.
“You should. Hiding up here. Unable to fight or learn. Surrounded by these…things.”
You frowned at him as you stood up, unable to understand what he was saying. Did he mean your room?
“Your father is a spoiled businessman. He thinks that throwing money at any problem would solve it. Me. Your bodyguard, this house that your parents pay for.”
At this, you flared up, “I have a job!”
“Slumming,” he said softly. “Poor little rich girl trying to prove something to herself.”
You felt yourself deflate at his words. It was true; you could have spent the rest of your life without having to work. But instead, you had taken classes and had signed up as a journalist.
At the time, you kept telling yourself that you enjoyed it.
But the pay wasn’t that good and you were more than a little tired of throwing yourself into danger just to get the latest scoop.
It was true, you had gotten a job because you wanted to believe that you could live without your parents’ money.
“You could be something more.”
“How?” you asked, hardly daring to breathe. You were still staring at the frame of your family, still smiling up at you. Something dripped onto the picture, wrinkling its surface.
You refused to believe that it was a tear. You weren’t going to cry, not because of him.
And yet, and yet…
It was true, what Sonic said, you always felt as if you would never be anything more than your parents’ daughter. You could have anything you wanted: a yacht, a dance instructor from one the A-City’s finest schools, a plush apartment in the middle of M-City.
But what you wanted was something that your parents couldn’t give you.
What you wanted something more than this, this feeling of emptiness, of never having accomplished anything worthwhile.
“I could take you away from here.”
“What?” You looked up at Sonic, not believing what your ears just heard.
The ninja shrugged as if he hadn’t just shook you down to your very core.
“Far away from here, there’s a village where I trained. I could take you there. Of course—” He smirked. “You’ll never be as good as me, but you’d be something more than some stupid businessman’s spoiled daughter.”
“You’d do that?” What you really wanted to ask was, You’d do that for me?
Sonic stilled like he hadn’t been anticipating that particular question. Then he turned away from you, “Don’t get me wrong, I pity you, that’s all. Surrounded by all these fake people and fake things. I bet you’d never seen anything real in your life.”
But his fists clenched as he spoke, and you knew that he had just lied.
You stood up, slowly walked over to him. He must have heard your footsteps, but he didn’t move from his spot. You laid a hand on his shoulder, half-expecting him to shrug it off.
“Thank you,” you murmured. “For the offer.”
Sonic turned around to face you, and his eyes seemed to dance. “So you’ll do it?” he said eagerly.
He moved closer to you, but then visibly stopped himself.
When his words came slower when he next spoke, as if he was trying to control himself, “Of course you’ll do it, why wouldn’t you? It’s not as if anything here is worth staying for.”
That was when you kneed him in the gut.
He wasn’t expecting it, or else he could have dodged it. Instead, he fell to the floor clutching his stomach.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded.
“Fake people? Stupid businessman? You don’t get to talk about my friends and family that way!” you yelled at him. “Of course, they’re worth staying for! Call me whatever names you want, but don’t insult them!”
You took a deep steadying breath, feeling the band in your chest ease. Though Sonic obviously thought little of them, this was your life, your friends and your family. You had to admit, running away with him was enticing. But you couldn’t hurt them by just disappearing like that.
“You think I’m weak but I’ll show you,” you said. “You think that you’re the only one who’s strong, just because you can fight monsters. I—I’ll,” you swallowed, unsure of what you were going to do. “I’ll become strong on my own, I don’t need to abandon everything I am in the process.”
You thought that your actions would anger Sonic—you had hurt him, after all—but instead, he suddenly smiled.
Not smirked at you or grinned, he smiled. As if he was genuinely happy.
“Ha, you think you can do it on your own? I doubt it.” But his words have lost their edge, and it seemed more teasing than insulting.
This time, you held his gaze, “Yes, I can.”
The glint in his eyes was definitely mischievous. He touched your cheek, and the brief contact sent shivers through you.
“I look forward to it.”