Asylum

Yin and Yang

Kya Carter

Right after I was given the job of babysitting, I took the Dragon to the lunchroom for...well, lunch. Leo's cooking today, so I know the food is going to be good.

Despite my initial impression of him being off to me, I think I need to give this guy a chance. I need to look beneath his surface. "So how did they peg you?" I ask, getting in line and taking a tray.

"Peg me?" the Dragon repeats, unfamiliar with the term.

"How did Asylum find you? What crime did they charge you with?"

"Oh..." is all he says as he takes a churro for a snack. "A couple of things, you could say. I didn't really have the best dojo life."

I stop short in my tracks, taking a Jaritos drink. "Dojo life?"

"Yeah," the man assures. "I was born in New Mexico, but my dad had an estate in Japan. We visited a lot, but a visit became permanent one day."

"Did he know about your ability?" Personally, my parents never did. I don't think they could wrap their mind around the idea of powers at all, so they never saw the clues. They never even saw my markings. There's a point where I wonder if they never paid special attention to me, or if they just ignored it.

"I don't want to talk about it," he firmly states, switching from Mr. Cool Guy to the Dragon. But as quickly as he gets worked up, he cools down. "My name is Ren, by the way. Ren Walker."

"I'm Kya Carter," I introduce.

After we pass through the line, Ren and I take a seat at a table inside. "Can I be honest with you?" he asks, dipping his churro in caramel sauce and nodding at its sweetness.

Nothing good ever comes after those words. Unless he's about to tell me that I'm surprisingly cool and he wants to hang out more, this isn't going to be good news. And since the moment I saw him, with our energies already at war before our words, I knew he wouldn't be good news from the start. Nevertheless, I nod. "Sure."

Ren pushes his tray aside, leans over, points a finger at me, and narrows his golden eyes. "I don't know what angle you're playing: trying to be the perfect, calm, happy little prisoner, but you can cut the crap."

Huh?

"I don't know why you're doing it or who you think you're fooling, but just know that it isn't me."

Using the back of my hand, I push Ren's out of my way. "A lot of us here have something...wrong with us. Do you have a case of paranoia? It's okay to tell me, I have some messed up stuff going on, too." I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he really is paranoid. But maybe he knows about what I really did. Because if anyone knew how I murdered my parents, they wouldn't think my content lifestyle is real.

"What?" Ren asks, bewildered. "No. No way. I just know your type. Nobody is that 'okay' with everything. You're here at an asylum without a record and everyone likes you? If that's true, it must be a façade you're playing."

"Façade? This is just who I am. Sorry I like helping people? You should try it sometime instead of threatening to burn everyone to ash," I render. Ha-ha...Render. Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose and release my anger. "Look, I know I rub you the wrong way. And as long as we're being honest, I disliked you the moment I saw you, too. But I'm not going to be a jerk about it, so take notes."

Contemplatively, Ren sips a drink and scans the crowd. "Quick temper," he irrationally says.

I perk an eyebrow up in confusion.