Claudia D. Christian

Estimated reading time: 2 – 4 minutes

“Oh, my sweet girl. I pity you but so look forward to seeing you both burn.” Director H. looked back at the pool. “Pooh! I should’ve left you on the stairs. Back with you, my girl.” He lifted Alice up by the hair and carried her back. “Director K.?”

“Ready?”

“Anytime you are.”

Sensation halted. Sound caved inwards. Director H. felt his body freeze for a moment too tiny to be classified as miniscule. Time resumed, unnoticed and forgotten by the naked girl named Alice.

“Director H.!” Thin arms clasped about her chest. “What are doing here?”

“I’ve come to fetch you, dearest.”

“Really?” Alice tilted her head to touch the bubbled strands with the tips of her shrunken fingers. “I still haven’t finished washing my hair. I didn’t think I was in here that long.”

Ruby eyes gleamed in secret amusement. “Time means nothing and everything here. It really can’t be trusted.”

Alice considered him, noticing how his new suit matched his colorless hair perfectly. It hurt her eyes to see such beauty.

“Do you like what you see, Alice?”

The blush most teenaged girls would’ve produced failed to color her cheeks. “I do. You’re very handsome, Director H. Why is that?”

“Superior genetics, my dear. Superior genetics.”

“You’re very lucky.”

“Really? Why do you think so?”

Alice shifted in the water, belatedly bringing her legs up to attempt at modesty. “The rules don’t belong to you.”

“Don’t you mean apply?”

“No. Belong. People like me belong to the rules. People like you don’t. You’re so beautiful you shouldn’t exist. Humans say you should be a monster but you’re not. Not in that way. You’re something else so beyond rules. You’re lucky.”

Director H. crouched down. His face, smooth as marble, beckoned Alice to touch it. She kept her arms crossed but her fingers itched.

“Would you like me to finish washing your hair?”

This time Alice’s cheeks erupted in violent color. “Oh, no. I can do it myself. Really. You don’t—” Her throat choked. Director H.’s gloved fingers took her hair and massaged it into a whipped confection of scented bubbles. “I really could’ve done it myself.”

The wretched whisper produced an ear-splitting grin. “I know you could have. You’re so independent, my dearest. One of your finest qualities if not your worst. Indulge me.”

Alice’s posture reminded him of someone else—it was as inflexible as Yukio’s. “Do people scare you often, Alice?”

“No.”

“Even when they’re…hmm…how should I say this? Abusive?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t abuse me if I don’t let you. I don’t let anyone do it.”

“Ever?”

“Never.” Alice risked moving her head. She looked at him. “Abusing my body isn’t the same as abusing me.”

“You’re warning me. Alice, my love! I have no interest in hurting you.”

“Then why ask?”

“Because your partner definitely has every interest in doing so.”