Vicissitude Yang Side

by Destine Williams

  Megumi washes her hands and dries them on a paper towel. “Well only Masah Mune does that. Mura Masah repeats stuff from the show sometimes, but I think she’s just doing that because she hears it, not really because she’s interested.”

  I wash my hands too, then move to the fridge. I take out the whole carton eggs, cheese, spinach, ham, mushrooms, green onion, milk. “That’s their names?”

  “I know, lame right? Totally not my idea.” Megumi says dryly, reaching into the dishwasher. Dishes clink, clatter, and clank. She lays out bowls, spoons, plates, forks, knives, a cutting board, non-stick pans, a spatula and oil.

  Then we get to work.

  I crack eggs against the mixing bowl, pour in a little bit of milk, and mix it. Beside me, Megumi is busy at the cutting board, sawing down ham slices, mushrooms, and sprigs of green onion. The onion smell seeps into the kitchen.

  Thumping footfalls make me look up.

  Oh gods.

  Today, Jin is That Emo Kid.

  He lugs his binders and textbooks to the kitchen table. His hair is up in spikes. He’s wearing tight, shredded skinny jeans, a black wife beater, and some black studs in his ears. Heavy metal bleeds from his earbuds. Even King raises his head to stare in a puppy version of What-The-Actual-Fuck?

  Gaze flickering to Jin and back to the bowl, I sprinkle shredded cheese into the egg. Times like these makes me think that there’s a hidden wheel of high school stereotypes in his room, and he spins it every morning. Whatever that shit lands on, that’s what he dresses up as for the day.

  Megumi nudges me with her elbow, mouthing the words. What’s up with your cousin?

  I shrug. Identity crisis?

  Her eyebrows knit together. Maybe it’s just a phase?

  Should I intervene?

  Her amber eyes flick to Jin. Well, technically he’s not doing anything wrong. She pours pancake mix into a separate bowl.

  I lay a skillet on the stove eye and oil the pan. I turn the heat dial mid-way to five.

  Megumi and I cook side-by-side in quiet. Me folding egg over the sautéing ingredients and her flipping pancakes over. King licks his chops in the kitchen doorway, sniffing the aroma of egg and pancakes. The whole kitchen is abuzz with sizzling.

  The doorbell goes off. King barks, running to investigate.

  I fold the last omelet and turn off my fire to answer the door. The inside keypad reads:

  Reginald Beaureguard. Give entry?

  >>>Yes

  The door chuffs open.

  “Hiya everybody,” Regi whoops. He stops to peck me on the lips. Then he stoops to pick up King. “I would kiss you too, but you’re not as pretty, little doggy.” Regi tucks King under his armpit like football. He holds out a hand to brofist Jin. “Hey little dude. Whatcha up to?"

  Jin brofists him back. “Studying for my last finals.”

  "Gross." Regi puts King back on the floor and steps into the kitchen, sniffing. “Hi Megumi."

  "Hi. Your plate is in the kitchen,” Megumi says.

  The two brush shoulders and cringe in passing as if the other is made of flaming cactus and pubic hair.

  I take a plate and set it beside Jin. “Here.”

  He mutters a stiff, “Thanks.”

  Regi hands me a plate. I sit across Jin. Regi pulls up a chair close beside mine. King puts his paws on the seat of Regi’s chair and whines.

  “Me no speako puppy, little doggy,” Regi says. “This is people-food. None for you.”

  King licks his nose. After a few seconds he gets the message and gets down with a human-sounding hurmph and slinks under the table to try his charms on Jin.

  I drizzle syrup on my pancakes. "I heard you wrote a paper about Genji.”

  Jin flips the page in his textbook. His gaze meets mine. “What about it?”

  “Can I see it?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “You wouldn’t want to read it.”

  I cut off a bit of my pancakes, chewing the maple-sweet spongy bread. “How do you know?”

  Jin averts his gaze. “It's not that interesting really.”

  “But I thought you got an A on it?” I ask. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Don’t be so harsh on yourself, little dude,” Regi says.

  Jin’s cheek reddens. He shakes his head.

  My heart sinks. “Want to play video games with us, then?”

  Jin’s eyes narrow. “I have to study for exams.”

  “Aww, maybe some other time then,” Regi says. Under the table, he squeezes my hand. My issued phone goes off in my pocket. I slide it out just enough to see the name. Genji. Bleh.

  Do you have me on surveillance or something? Mai hasn’t even been gone for that long and he’s already calling. I get up. “I need to take this.”

  Regi swallows his mouthful of omelet. “Who is it?”

  “My job.” I hurry back out onto the verandah and press the phone back to my ear.

  “Well, Hound?” Genji snaps. “You asked?”

  “I did and she said that she’s not sure now because all of her candidates are retiring.”

  There is quiet on the other line. “Don’t toy with me, Hound. She truly said that?”

  “You can ask her if you don’t believe me.”

  He scoffs. “Oh I believe you. I just hoped differently.” He mutters something that I can’t quite make out and hangs up.

  I slip my phone back in my pocket with a snort. I hoped too and you took that away from me, it’s your turn to be salty. But even despite that, I can’t help but feel a little bit bad for him. All the work he’s done, all the time he’s put in, and Mai still, albeit unintentionally, shits on his hopes and dreams.

  1-8 'Ah'

  I finally close out the confirmation window for paying my tickets. Paying any kind of fine online is excruciatingly slow: to punish you more for not paying attention while you were driving. I shut my laptop, take it with me upstairs get my puzzle box, bring it to the dining room table, and study it again while Regi plays video games in front of the tv. My finger glide over a swath of prickly plastic trees.

  Two trees next to the bridge are moveable.

  Right then left? Tilting my head, I twist one tree after another. Nothing happens. Left then right?

  A key plops from the underside of the bridge.

  Warmth floods me. Yes! One part of the secret down. But where does it go? I tilt my head. There aren’t any visible locks. I press my finger against every plank of the bridge. Skim the surface of the river. Nothing. I run a hand through my hair. How did I even figure this out as a kid without any solutions? This puzzle box is just a toy—something some random company made for kids, and it’s more complicated than most security systems I’ve cracked. At least with security systems, you can sense the chi energy moving through the puzzle and use that to figure out what to do next, but with ordinary puzzle boxes you’re really on your own with figuring out every step.

  “Babe, what are you doing?” Regi asks from the couch.

  “Trying to solve this puzzle Mai gave me.” I sit back in my chair. “I’m stumped.”

  "Take a break then and play this game then," Regi says, waving the controller.

  "Alright.” I lay the key down on the bridge. Maybe I'll figure something out if I take a break. Mai's favorite piece of advice was always, "If you can't figure something out then leave it alone for a while." I sit next to Regi.

  The screen reads:

  FRUSTRATION

  >>>New Game?

  This game is going to give me an aneurism of some kind. I can feel it. “Why can’t we play another game?”

  Regi holds the black dual-joystick controller in front of me. “I want to see you play this one, babe. At least the first level. Before I leave?”

  I take the controller. “Is this gonna put me in a bad mood?”

  Regi curls an arm around my shoulder, grinning. “If it does, I promise I’ll make you feel better.”

  I raise an eyebrow, return my gaze to the title screen that reads only
one word in fat red letters.

  A long exhale leaves my lips. I take the controller from him and hit the X button with my thumb. “Sure. Whatever you want, babe.”

  The screen immediately cuts to an 8-bit screen that looks like King drew it. Monotone blue and a thin slab of green slapped at the bottom to stand for land. I’m some pixelated green dinosaur in yellow shoes.

  I move the joystick around experimentally. The dinosaur trots back and forth, jittering and his body flickering with every step as if all the bugs haven’t been worked out. I switch to the D-pad above the joystick and thank gods it’s smoother. The X-button makes the dino jump. The A button to the left of it lets me run if I hold it. The start button pauses everything. And everything else doesn’t do anything. A standard platforming game. I lead the dino to the right.

  The screen scrolls with me. A gap comes up in the ground.

  I hit the jump button.

  But instead of the dino sailing over the gap, he jumps, revealing an invisible block hanging above the gap and plunges straight down.

  A hot twinge runs through my fingers. Oh, it’s one of those games. I glare at Regi. “You knew that would happen, didn’t you?”

  He gives a sheepish shrug. “Kinda?”

  I snatch a pillow off the sofa and clock him on the head with it. “Fuck you. Get out.”

  “Ow.” He throws up a hand to shield him from the blows. “No need to be violent.”

  Sticking my tongue out at him, I put the controller down and get up. “I’m not playing the rest of this game.”

  Regi pouts. “Aww. I wanted to see you beat the whole game.”

  I head up the stairs. “I can tell from that jump that it’s going to take a long time for me to get through it.”

  Regi follows close behind. “Fine. I guess I’ll go to the store, then.”

  Upstairs, our door is wide open. Megumi is on her laptop, blaring the audio of The Red Hood for the anime chick while she jots notes down in a thick notebook. The other chick repeatedly fluffs itself up like a cottonball and preens near the edge of the coop.

  I tap Megumi on the shoulder. “Yo, Regi needs money for the store.”

  Megumi pats her canary-patterned pajama pants briefly before her hands slip into her pockets. She pulls out a row of gold mon coins on a string threaded through their diamond-hole middles and hands them to Regi. “Fifty is enough, right?”

  “Yeah. We should have plenty for later, if we do that.” I open my dresser’s top drawer for my own string of mon coins for Regi. But when I turn, he’s standing beside Megumi’s desk and peering at the chick.

  “Who’s this little guy?” Regi asks.

  “Her name is Mura Masah,” Megumi corrects. “I’m monitoring chicks for my job.”

  “Mura Masah?” Regi scratches his head. “Isn’t that the name of some old sword guy? Who the hell called her that?”

  “My boss did. She gave them Pua Moana names,” Megumi shrugs. “Don’t ask me what the translation is.”

  “Can I pet her?” Regi asks.

  A heartbeat of quiet follows. “Sure. Just don’t pick her up. Her claws can puncture you.”

  “Sweet!”

  I rest my chin on Megumi’s head. “Who are you watching?”

  “Malicious is playing. But D’licious is subbing for Quiet,” Megumi says.

  Again? Doesn’t Brazzers ever get tired of Quiet missing so many games? I’ll be fair. Sure Quiet was at the game yesterday, but whenever Malicious plays someone else, she never seems to be there. “Brazzers should just find a new support.”

  “Plot twist! Quiet is the real sub and D’licious was the support the whole time,” Megumi says.

  A chuckles rumbles in my chest. “I’d believe that.”

  Without warning, Mura Masah jabs at Regi’s hand.

  Regi yanks his hand back, fist curling shut. “Ow! Fucking hell that hurts!”

  “What big hands you have, dirtbag!” The chick jabbers, its voice identical to Megumi’s.

  Megumi stands up to stand face-to-face with Regi, forcing me back. “What the hell did you do to her?”

  Regi’s eyes widen, then narrow into slits. “Me? I barely even put my hand near her and she pecked me!” He thrusts out his open hand.

  A long streak of red runs down the lines of his blood-smeared palm.

  Ice lances through my stomach.

  “What big hands you have, dirtbag! What big hands you have, dirtbag!” Mura Masah shrieks.

  “Fucking bird…” Regi mutters. “Why is she saying that?”

  Megumi scoops the chick up in her hand, cradling it close to her chest. “That’s what they say in The Red Hood. She just imi—”

  Regi thumbs his palm. “Why didn’t you tell me it would do that?”

  “How was I supposed to know? It’s not my fault you don’t know how to pet a bird!”

  Heart thudding against my chest, I wedge myself between them. “Guys please. It’s just an accident.”

  Megumi and Regi keep glaring at each other, as if I’m just a thin wall of glass between them.

  Megumi sits back down and huffs. “He doesn’t seem to think so.”

  Regi opens his mouth, but then his green gaze falls on me, and he looks away with a tight-lipped scowl. The air is charged like tesla coil waiting to spark.

  “Here.” I take Regi by the wrist and nudge him towards the bathroom.

  “What big hands you have, dirtbag!” Mura Masah squawks. "What big hands you have, dirtbag!”

  In the bathroom, I turn on the faucet for Regi and reach into our cabinet for bandages.

  Regi, on the other hand, glares at the wound. Bloods trickles from just under his middle finger down into the veins in his palm. The peck wound itself doesn't look deep. “Fucking can’t stand her,” He mutters under his breath.

  My pulse jumps into restless jitter in my chest. I almost can’t believe this guy is the same one who came in the door with so much energy. “Regi, it was an accident,” I remind him, my own voice just barely above a whisper. “That bird doesn’t know any better.”

  “Apparently knows plenty,” Regi mutters. “It even knows how to talk like her. Wouldn’t be surprised if she told it to do that to me.”

  I dip his hand under the water, opening my mouth then shutting it. I watch the red rinse away. “Why do you hate her so much?”

  “Because she’s always acting so fucking stuck up like I’m a disease or something.” Regi’s scowl deepens. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, babe. She needs to grow up. Literally and figuratively.”

  I wrap his hand slowly. “I want to get through the day without a fight? Can you do that for me?”

  His jaw clenches. Engorged veins rise on his corded neck. “Yeah, whatever.”

  1-9 'Ah'

  Dinner is a cold war.

  Megumi is at my left, dicing mushrooms, lettuce, and tomatoes. Regi is at my right, browning marbled sheets of unmarinated kobe beef in hissing oil. Neither of them talk, except for the occasional “Pass me the…” to me. At the table, Jin sits as far away from us as possible.

  I’m relieved when Regi finishes helping me with the dishes and finally says. “I should head back. I promised Dad I’d help him put a new bookshelf together for Mom.”

  I walk him to the door. “I’ll see you Monday, then?”

  “Yeah.” His eyes brighten. “And before I forget! Bring something you’re comfortable hiking in. There’s walking involved.”

  My heart skips. Hiking? I haven’t been hiking in a while. That ought to be fun. “Where?”

  Regi gives me a cheeky grin, his gaze falling to my lips. “I’ll give you a hint, but only once. Okay?”

  I tilt my head. “Alright.”

  He leans in. His lips brush mine, moving. I have no clue what he’s doing. His mouth is opening and closing—

  He’s talking? No. He’s spelling something.

  V-E

  And he pecks me on the lips. “Got it?”

  I scowl. “Not fair. You caught m
e off-guard. I want a do-over.”

  Regi smirks. “Too bad. I said once and you only get one hint. So see you on Monday!” And he’s out the door.

  Fuck. What is ve? It's gotta be hikeable and within driving distance.

  I could probably find it on my laptop. I head upstairs.

  Megumi’s voice floats to my ears. “Is that supposed to happen?”

  Heaven’s voice comes from Megumi’s phone. “No, she’s certainly never done that while she was around me. But Mura Masah is kind of the prototype here so it’s hard to say.”

  “What about the Akuma gene? Would that be part of the problem?” Megumi asks.

  Akuma gene? I linger in the doorway. She can’t mean that there are Akuma genes in the chicks, can she?

  “If that were the case, then it would make more sense for Masah to be the one to be aggressive since she’s got the original 666 version of the gene,” Heaven. “How did she react?”

  “Masah was watching The Red Hood so she wasn’t interested in anything else,” Megumi says.

  “Did he squeeze her or hurt her?” Heaven asks.

  “I don’t think he even picked her up at that point,” Megumi echoes. “She just pecked him. There was no warning at all.”

  “Huh… I’ll double-check her file to see if there’s anything funny.” There’s a pause. “Apart from that is she okay?”

  “Yes, but they’re having their first scheduled growth spurt. The peacock and dusky lorry feathers are starting to come in,” Megumi says. “I’m worried that they won’t fit in the cage.”

  “Oh don’t worry. The roof comes off, but I don’t think it’ll come to that,” Heaven says. “I’ll come get them tomorrow morning though, just to be safe.”

  “Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Beep! Megumi plops down in her swivel chair, sighing.

  I slip into the room quietly, trying to be nonchalant and look like I was totally not eavesdropping. The chicks are noticeably taller than they were from this morning’s incident, and their down has slimmed into smooth feathers; they look more like cockatiels than chickens now. But if Akuma genes are really in them, then maybe it’s not so insane that Regi got pecked. Escort class assassins have to take high doses sedatives to prevent anger episodes, but their version of Akuma gene steroids is as close to the original as it gets. I open my laptop, glancing back at her. "What's wrong?"