Free The Academy by Zachary Rawlins Page A

chain as an extension of herself, a cold appendage, a union of blood and steel. The chain moved like a living thing, swirling around her like a cyclone of blood-slick iron, and in that instant, Mitsuru recalled herself, before she had been diminished and restrained.
    And then suddenly there was no more, no further to reach, no reserves to tap; the Black Door was firmly shut, and Mitsuru folded at the knees, and then fell gently to the floor. She cried out, so she would not have to hear the sound of the chain as it hit the ground.
    “You’ve turned this place into the goddamn bloody chamber again, you troublesome bitch,” Rebecca said, not unkindly, from the door. “I’m gonna have to take your key away.”
    Rebecca pushed the sliding door open and dropped her bag just inside the room, kicking her sandals off next to it. She was a few inches taller than Mitsuru, a shapely brunette, somewhere nebulously between her late twenties and early thirties. Her accent and style was stereotypically Southern Californian, complete with sun-bleached bangs and designer sunglasses, but Mitsuru knew that she’d been born in Argentina, to a Jewish family that fled Buenos Aires for the United States, after a bombing, when she was a child.
    Rebecca walked across the room, picking her way disdainfully through the maze of chain and bloodstains, and stood in front of Mitsuru, folding her arms. She was dressed for the field, in muddy fatigues and a black t-shirt soaked in sweat. Mitsuru found herself unable to look her friend in the eye.
    “I’m totally serious, Mitsuru. Do you know what would happen if the Committee-at-Large or the Board found out you were trying to use your Black Protocol again? They’d put you down for real this time, instead of hobbling you. Clean this shit up later, okay? We have to meet Alistair in twenty minutes.”
    Mitsuru stirred.
    “Alistair?”
    “I knew that would get a reaction from you,” Rebecca smirked. “It’s so cute it makes me kinda sick. Now go get yourself cleaned up, and meet us up in his office, okay?”
    Mitsuru nodded, and stood unsteadily.
    Rebecca grabbed her abruptly and pulled her close in a rough embrace. Mitsuru felt Rebecca’s hand briefly run through her hair, and then gently pat the back of her head. A sob escaped Mitsuru’s throat, and then she wrapped her own arms around Rebecca’s waist, and they stayed that way for a little while.
    “You’ve got to get it together,” Rebecca said firmly, holding her by her shoulders and looking into her red eyes. “If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for Alistair and me, okay? We put our asses on the line for you – and I’m not doing you any favors, Mitsuru, don’t look at me that way. I know that you’ll make a great Auditor. But like this, sweetie? You’re inviting them to decide that what you couldn’t control then, you still can’t control. And it reflects poorly on us.”
    Mitsuru nodded, biting back tears. She knew it all already, of course, but she hadn’t stopped herself. Even when it wasn’t her who would pay the cost for her actions. She wanted so badly to use the abilities that had been forbidden to her again.
    Rebecca released her hold and turned to collect her sandals and duffle bag.
    “I’ll see you upstairs, Mitsuru,” she said, waving over her shoulder. “Try not to take things so seriously, okay? The world can’t end every day.”
    Mitsuru had enough time for a quick shower and change before heading upstairs, through the smoky chaos of the half-full Operations room to the equally smoky back office that Alistair had taken over. She’d replaced the bandages on her hands, as well, so that Alistair wouldn’t notice that she had reopened the wounds.
    Rebecca was already there, her hair damp from the shower, wearing loose jeans and a blue UCLA sweatshirt, leaning over a chart laid out in front of Alistair, across the desk. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, and Mitsuru noticed the bruises on