This Is Not a Tragedy

14 | Reality

Monday, June 18, 2007

"tsu... Natsu."

Slowly, I open my eyes, blinking away the fog. It's a few seconds before I get my bearings. That's right. This is my new room. In a giant house. In England. And the person calling me is a British man named Sergius who told me strange things yesterday about vampires. Sigh.

I groan.

"Oh, you were sleeping?"

"Is that weird?" I ask as I sit up, rubbing the sleep out of my eye.

He hums thoughtfully. "A healthy Nativus only needs to sleep once every eight or so days. Perhaps you need it more frequently since you're half-human."

Ugh. Crap. I was hoping yesterday was a dream. "How long are you going to keep up this farce?" I groan.

Sergius smiles. "I could ask you the same thing. Get dressed in some tracksuit bottoms and trainers and be downstairs in 10 minutes." He closes the door, and I stare at it, confused. Suddenly, it swings back open, and he peeks his head in. "Trainers are like running shoes."

After getting ready, I follow Sergius out of the house, down the driveway, and to the main road. He lifts his wrist and starts pressing buttons on his digital watch. "Let's see how far you get in thirty minutes."

"はぁ?" I rumble in Japanese.

Sergius looks at me in surprise, and I realize that if we were in Japan and he was Japanese, I would need to follow up my insolent 'huh' with a 90-degree bow and an apology.

I relax my sneer, a little embarrassed. "You mean walking?"

"Of course not! Jogging."

"Ah..." It comes out sounding more like a groan than an affirmation of understanding.

"Head up! Shoulders back! Let's go!" Sergius calls, grinning brightly (I'm assuming to counter my expression, which is the exact opposite). He starts off, and I stare at his back. After yesterday, I just want to lie in bed and read.

"We'll be out here until you join me, Natsu!" he threatens, jogging in place. And so, I have no choice.

An hour later, I sit on the ground back where we started, resting and staring at the dew-covered grass by the side of the road. "Were you even trying?" Sergius asks in disappointment.

"You're too fast, I told you."

"I was going at a human speed." I look up and see his frown disappear. "Let's go home. I'll test your grip strength and see how much you can lift. So far, you're surprisingly weak. Though looking at you, you're a bit of a skinnymalink and haven't got a bit of muscle."

A skinnywhat? Is that even a real word? And why would you expect any differently?

"You are half Nativus, so you should have gotten stronger and faster. Hm... maybe those changes are delayed?"

I blink a few times. "Hey. Why does it seem like you always know what I'm thinking?"

He blinks once. "Let's head home."

He just blatantly ignored me. But I decide not to press further.

When we get to the home gym, Sergius has me lift increasingly heavy weights. After ten minutes of what he calls "reps," I release the dumbbell from my grip, letting it smack loudly onto the floor.

Sighing, Sergius scribbles onto the clipboard he's holding. "So, every day, we're going to train. I don't know if this is just some developmental delay, but you're rather... uh... well, sub-par? So, daily training. I'll plan out a regimen daily. No, weekly. Expect to jog every morning, though. That's a given. We've got to strengthen your body. Are you still having growing pains?"