The Eyes That Make the Storm

81) Take it Easy

"What do you mean I can't come back?" Stasia asked.

"Exactly what I just said," Gang Orca answered.

"You're kidding. The mission's over. One's dead, one's in jail. You said when we catch them I can come back."

"I know what I said, but I'm looking at you right now, and I don't think that's best."

"Meaning?"

"Your eye."

Stasia sighed before she said, "it's fine."

"It's leaking," he told her in a low tone before he handed her a tissue.

Embarrassed, she took it from his hand and slowly lifted up the eyepatch as he watches intensely.

"Dammit, can you even see?"

"Yes....most of the time. I train with the eyepatch on, it's just taking some adjustment."

"Most of the time? What did the doctors say?"

"They uh- they want to remove it entirely."

"And you haven't done that?"

"I don't want to. That's my choice to make."

"You're right. That is your choice. It's also mine to say you won't have an official mission until you have that surgery."

"That's not fair."

"What happens if you're carrying someone to safety? Running to get help? In the middle of a fight and you go blind in one eye. That's putting others in danger and yourself and I won't have either on my conscience."

"I'll wear the eyepatch then."

"I know your coordination is not up to par yet, it hasn't been that long. Even if it was, you haven't sat comfortably the whole time you've been here. How do you expect to go on a mission in pain when you can't even sit still?"

"Sir-"

"The answer is no."

'Take it easy,' were the parting words he left her with. Code for: sidelined once again. She fought back her frustration, giving him a polite goodbye before she left as quickly as possible.

Aizawa wanted her back at the dorms by seven. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, it was six. She has time. She takes the train and fifteen minutes later she arrived. The guard greeted her with a warm, "Electrosia! Long time no see."

"Yeah, I guess so. Um- I think we both know who I'm visiting, so who's taking me?

"That'd be me," a large man answered and Stasia nodded, "follow me."

He led her down a long, dark corridor. Cement walls, no windows, lifeless. Fitting. After around a five-minute walk, he stopped.

"In there," he told her, as he nodded over to the door.

"Thanks."

She pulled the door open, being met with a white room split into two. A chair and a table on her side. A bed, a toilet, and Mei on the other; who audibly gasped at the sight of her.

"What happened to you?" she teased and Stasia rolled her eyes taking a seat.

"This crazy bitch tried to kill me."

"There wasn't any trying, I had you-"

"No, you had a hole through your stomach, so big light passed through it."

"You came here just to disrespect me?"

"No, I came here to get the information owed to me."
"I don't owe you anything after you murdered-"

"No, you killed him," Stasia interrupted. "That man is dead because of you. Because of your impulse, your recklessness, and your lack of mental capacity to realize I was talking to him and not harming him. Now that I think about it, you continue to be an absolute imbecile not to realize that if you're nice I might tell you his last words."

"What do you want?"

"It's not about what I want, it's what you're going to do. And you're gonna teach me how to use my storm. It's in your best interest to say yes, I mean there's nothing to do here but rot. And of course, when you're finished, I'll tell you about what Antoine said."

Mei stayed quiet for a while, at least six minutes before she cleared her throat, "where do I start?"

Stasia hates the sidelines, almost more than anything. The one thing she does hate even more, however, is people believing that she'll actually stay on them. Stasia has never taken it easy, and she's not starting now.