Chapter Text
I hate sunny days. Enjin always makes me train even on the most scalding of days. He was starting to shy away from that mindset, but then I happened. Enjin genuinely believed in me so much that he sent me on a mission with Riyo. I would have not failed so spectacularly if it wasn’t for Riyo. To me, Riyo is like an extremely cool older cousin that genuinely makes life look easy. So naturally, I act stupid and anxious because if I say something wrong, she’ll think I’m a loser. Now that’s just me talking to her, imagine how flustered I get when we are fighting alongside each other in a mission where my anxiousness could cost us our lives.
Long story short, I fumbled.
An absolutely feral trash beast was coming at us, and Riyo herself entrusted me to distract and dismantle it while she went for the core. So I locked the hell in and got to work. I kid you not, as I was mid-air, eye level with this monster, ready to slash across its eyes, I look up and see Riyo above me. We make brief eye contact, and she looks at me with her eyes narrowed, eyebrows scrunched, and lips pursed. Now that my idiotic self is reminiscing, that is obviously her “I’m focused” face. But in my overthinking mindset, I couldn’t interpret something so obvious, and immediately came to the conclusion that I was just too stupid and inexperienced to understand.
Leading me to spiral mid-battle.
While Riyo ended up fighting for two, I fell back to the ground in a daze, trying to furiously calculate what the hell she was trying to tell me. I eventually sprang back to my feet once my will to live somewhat resurfaced, and picked up my vital instrument, Musmai. But unfortunately, to my surprise, I had three little trash fuckers behind me, ready to have their way with me.
Because I still have a sense of self-preservation, I refuse to get into the details. So let’s just say that I am fresh out of Eishia’s care, and Enjin gave me a two-hour nonchalant, yet disappointed spiel on my confidence, fighting skills, and mindset. After such a shitty mission and scolding session, you would think that I would need to cry, and you’d be right. Except, I was in the infirmary with a pair of eyes constantly in my direction. So it was harder than you’d expect to have a mental breakdown. Instead, I turned on the TV and listened to Mymo assault my eardrums through the screen as he yapped about the Doll Festival as if it isn’t months away.
I swear, every time I see Mymo on the screen, it’s as if he’s somehow related to August. It’s the eccentric personality, the animated movements, and the constantly loud tone. Except August is better by a landslide.
Now here I am outside, in the sweltering sun, two days later, with my hood pulled over and listening to my corny “KICK ASS” playlist through Musmai. But as my heart is pounding along with my head, only one thought keeps resurfacing. “I hate sunny days.” The weather here on the ground is like Floridian weather. When it’s sunny, it burns like hell. When it’s a storm, it feels like we’ve all been transported to Hell itself. But if I’m being honest, this isn’t even the worst it’s been. In my terms, just an uneven, scalding tan. In Enjin terms, training time. So as I was running laps and sparring against inanimate dummies, Enjin remained sheltered under the building, watching me with a cigarette between his fingers. But not watching me to supervise, watching me to scrutinize.
It’s as if Enjin is trying to run me into the ground mentally and physically simultaneously. He’s trying to test me and see if I can actually last, not just through this training, but also as a cleaner. So, no matter how much my body aches and my forehead pulses, I won’t stop. No matter what, I refuse: I refuse to stop training, I refuse to give in to my aches, I refuse to let my consciousness get in the way of my success, and I refuse to stay mediocre forever. This excruciating training session is nothing but a symbol. A symbol of what I must get used to if I hope to fight aside Riyo and pull my own weight as a Cleaner.
And to do that, I must get through this training session and show Team Child that I am worthy, that I have what it takes to be part of their team. “Yes, I got this!” I utter under my breath with a new found confidence.
“Oh shit, YES!” I swore under my breath as I saw fuckass Enjin walking away and finally averting his gaze from me. Meaning, I’m done with training. It’s probably been an hour and a half of this hellish torture by now. I drop jogging mid-lap as Enjin’s coat disappears from view. “He’s gone.” Suddenly, it doesn’t matter that I’ve been sprinting and punching for over an hour. I use the last of my stamina to make a dash for the door: my freedom. I feel as if someone has suddenly taken the weights off my ankles, and now is my chance to escape. I maniacally laugh to myself as I place my right hand on the door handle with a sense of achievement. Never in my life have I been happier. As I swing the door open in hopes of taking a thorough bath and rotting in bed for the rest of the day. But the higher you fly, the more it hurts when you fall. And my heart plummeted when, before I even set one foot inside, I hear an irritating, pretentious, and almost satisfied tone.
“Did ya think you were done?”