After an hour of rest, Mikey feels a firm hand on his shoulder. He stirs, half in a dream, half in the haze of exhaustion. His eyes flicker open, adjusting to the dim yellow glow of the waiting room's single overhead light. Ryosuke sits beside him, posture straight, as if he has been there the entire time, watching, guarding, waiting.
"It is time, the second phase."
Mikey groans, swinging his legs off the cot. His body protests, but to his surprise, there's no sharp stab of pain, no unbearable ache. He stretches his arms out wide, shoulders popping, then rolls his neck. For the first time since the Blood Bear, his body feels almost normal.
"Damn... I don't hurt no more..."
"Linnium." Ryosuke picks up a folded cloth from a nearby table. "It numbs the pain. Temporarily." He holds it out along with a fresh white shirt. Thin, long-sleeved, plain, but clean. "Here. Wash first."
Mikey takes the cloth. It's cool and damp, smelling faintly of something herbal, like mint mixed with iron. He scrubs his face, dragging the last traces of dried blood from his skin, then his chest, his ribs, the ridges of muscle across his stomach. When he's finished, he pulls the shirt over his lean frame. The fabric clings snug against him like a second skin. He pauses, then reaches beneath the collar to press his mother's necklace flat against his chest. For a moment, his hand lingers there, silent, like a wordless prayer. Then he runs his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath. Ryosuke clears his throat and produces something else from behind his chair. The glint of steel catches Mikey's eye instantly.
"I also got these back for you."
Mikey's dual daggers. The weight of them in his hands makes his pulse jump, a missing piece returned. He twirls one instinctively, then slides both into the sheaths strapped tight along his long thighs. The metal feels like it belongs there.
"Thanks, Sensei."
Ryosuke smirks faintly, though his eyes remain serious. His hand comes down heavy but steady on Mikey's shoulder.
"Of course. I will be waiting in the stands, next to Bobby and the rest. Good luck, my student. You pass this phase, and you pass the test. You live another day with us."
Mikey lifts his head, eyes softened by gratitude but sharpened with resolve.
"I'll win. I promise."
A curt nod, then Ryosuke turns and slips out of the waiting room, his footsteps echoing down the tunnel until silence swallows them. Alone, Mikey stares down at his hands. His fingernails are still stained red, the memory of the Blood Bear painted across his skin. He lets out a slow, heavy breath.
'Mom, Dad, help me out again... so I can handle whatever they throw at me.'
The speakers crackle, then a booming voice rolls through the concrete chamber:
"Phase Two will begin shortly, Michael Grant, enter the arena."
Mikey breaths in, slow and deep, before opening the heavy metal door of the waiting room. He walks down the tunnel, the cheers already going crazy. The light blinds him the same.
"They gotta turn down the lights or somethin'..."
He blinks until they adjust, the stands are packed again, fifteen hundred Defectors filling the dome. The cheers ripple, wave after wave of voices calling his name, praising the boy who survived Phase One. Mikey tilts his head left, scanning the familiar section. Then there they were. Bobo and Luce cheer like proud parents, arms thrown high, voices booming. Amelia and Tobi are mid-argument, bickering like siblings, until Amelia notices him and breaks into a light smile. She actually smiles at him! She even waves back, Tobi adds two thumbs up, his big dumb grin plastered across his face. Mikey chuckles under his breath.
"Here we go again... what do you have in store for me Isaak..."
His gaze shifts upward. Isaak sits in the upper box beside his father. The man leans in close, whispering in his ear. Isaak nods, jaw tight, eyes falling to Mikey. For a moment, regret flashes there. Then it hardens, shutters closing, the weight of duty pressing back into place. Before Mikey can dwell, a little voice pierces the noise.
"Mr. Mikey! You can do this! You're the strongest ever!"
His heart leaps. He swings toward the sound and spots her—Angelica, perched in Marlene's arms, waving frantically with both hands.
Mikey's grin splits across his face. He jogs closer to their section, craning his neck up. The wall is at least 8 feet in height.
"Little Angel! You came!"
Angelica giggles and nods her head as Marlene holds her.
"You got this!"
"I do!" Mikey shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth. "I'll win for you, okay? Then we can play bubble ball all day tomorrow!"
Her gapped-tooth smile nearly knocks the breath out of him. Marlene steadies her and leans slightly over the railing.
"Be careful okay Mikey?"
"I gotcha Marlene don't worry."
"Good." Satisfied, she makes her way to the row near Savior and slips into the empty seat beside Ryosuke. Ryosuke looks over and smiles at Angelica. "Hello there, sweetheart." His accent voice showing a rare softness.
She waves, "Hello Uncle Ryo!"
Marlene hands her to Ryosuke, Ryosuke hugs her and sits her down on his lap, bouncing his knee softly. Marlene catches the sight, her lips tugging into a smile. Ryosuke, hardened warrior, reduced to a gentle uncle. She watches for a moment longer than she intends, warmth flooding her chest, before she snaps herself back.
"Are you worried about Mikey?" she asks, voice low. "I mean… what the heck was that Phase One?"
Ryosuke exhales. His gaze stays fixed on the boy in the arena. "I am very worried but not fearful. He is strong and they gave him his daggers back. He should be more in his element now."
Marlene glances at him with a worried look. She doesn't know about it being rigged. "I hope so. They're going harder this year for some reason. Ours weren't like that at all. I just had to shoot some targets."
"You forget, Marlene."
She tilts her head, resting it her palm, as he chuckles. "And what is that?"
"I did not take the test. I got shot straight up." Ryosuke's accented voice has a rare warmth and playfulness when he is around her. "Because they deemed it unnecessary. My skills spoke for themselves, I suppose."
Marlene laughs, the sound rare since her husband's death. "You are so full of yourself."
"I still have my katana, woman. Don't tempt me." He says jokingly, he actually jokes around her.
"You are ridiculous Ryosuke Saito."
Their banter is cut short when Isaak's voice booms from above:
"Phase Two will now begin. The test will resume. Michael Grant, take center stage."