Hiroshima, Sinister History by E. Mendell

  ~ Five ~

  Soul sat on the mattress waiting with her thumbs twiddling uncontrollably and her silver eyes locked on the door. Her heart was racing though she tried to keep it calm. The last thing she needed was to have an attack and die while Hiro was gone. A few times she was temped to go on the computer and look up more about Hiro, but she was still scarred from when he last caught her at that. She would wait obediently, but not patiently. Hiro could not get home soon enough and finally she heard the doorknob turn. She looked up expectantly when the door opened, but when Hiro stumbled in and slammed the door shut behind him Soul knew her fears had come to life.

  “You were attacked!” She cried, leaping to her feet and running to Hiro. He dropped two bags and fell to his knees, trembling and twitching uncontrollably. Bolts of blue-white electricity shot out of his torso and mouth.

  “Pull-pull-pull-ll-ll-ll o-o-out the kni-ife-ife-ife!” He said in a strange mechanical voice. It was like there was a digital glitch in his voice.

  “Knife?” Soul took Hiro by his shoulders and looked at his back. There she spotted the knife that was gouged so deep only the handle stuck out. It was covered with black oil that bubbled like acid. Soul stared at it. “Is it safe to pull it out?” She asked nervously. “It won’t hurt you will it-?”

  “PULL-LL-LL I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-IT!!!” Hiro cried, his voice rising to a high pitch like a broken soundboard.

  Terrified, Soul grabbed the knife and tugged on it, but it was stuck tight. The oil was hot and sticky and Soul squirmed as she stepped behind Hiro and took a better hold on the knife. She pulled on it until it began to wiggle loose. The oil spat at her and Soul yelped, but then dragged the knife out. She threw it aside, wiping her hands clean on her new pajama pants.

  Hiro collapsed. His body still twitching as both oil and blood oozed onto the floor.

  Soul stood motionless. She was trying to calm her frantic heart. It was beating so hard she felt light headed.

  There was suddenly a red light blinking near the floor that caught Soul’s attention. She peered at it, noticing that it was coming from beneath Hiro. Soul knelt beside him and touched his metal torso above the light. It was beneath the bandages around his waist, but was bright enough to shine through. Soul clumsily shoved Hiro onto his side. He was heavy that she almost couldn’t manage it. Once he was set, Soul took the bandages and pulled them away from the light. It became brighter and Soul stared at it.

  The light was the size of a quarter and it came from deep inside a slit where Hiro’s ribs should have been. It was blinking slowly, like the red traffic signals at an intersection. Soul passed her fingers around the rim of the light, feeling for any buttons to stop the light from blinking, but it was without blemish or switches. Taking her hand away, Soul sat back and watched Hiro for a long time. She was having trouble figuring out if he was more of a man than a machine. In that moment he looked like a dead robot, which was why she had wanted to switch off the blinking red light.

  “Hiro?” Soul whispered, crawling towards his head and sitting beside him. She poked his cheek, but there was no response. Soul got to her feet and searched the pile of clothes for something to bandage Hiro’s arm with. When Soul glanced at him she saw he was bleeding all over the hardwood floor and his torso was still oozing oil everywhere. It was like there was no end to it. Soul frowned, but then she moved in front of Hiro and took him beneath his arms. With a heave, she dragged him away from the door and into the middle of the room. She rolled him onto his back and hurried to the door, grabbing the bags he had left there and bringing them over to Hiro. She set them down and pulled the blankets and pillow out of their cases. Carefully, she lifted Hiro’s head and set a pillow under his head. The second one she left beside him. She laid the blankets to one side and got up to search for something to clean and wrap his arm with. She wouldn’t be able to clean the blood and oil smear on the floor, but she did want to make sure Hiro would stop losing blood.

  Soul searched the piles of clothing some more, looking for some scrap cloth. All she found was a towel. Soul took it and hurried back to Hiro, kneeling beside him and taking his arm. She stared at the gash blankly, seeing how it went straight through his arm. A shudder went through her stomach and she wrapped the towel around his arm. It was all she could do. Once it was covered she sat back and looked towards the mess of oil and blood on the floor. She pouted and wondered what had happened to Hiro. Part of her was scared he was dying, but she knew he wasn’t. He was a machine. That alone told her that if he wasn’t dead yet, a loss of oil or blood wouldn’t kill him.

  Soul looked at Hiro’s face. “Gosh!” She cried, jumping in alarm.

  Hiro was watching her emotionlessly, but his left eye had small bolts of electricity going through it.

  “Thanks for d-d-d-drawing out the knife,” he said, his eye twitching with his voice. “I need to repair-pair-pair myself. That’ll take-ake-ake-ake a while though.” He looked at the ceiling.

  “When you’re repaired will you tell me what happened?” Soul asked quietly, watching Hiro’s face, though her gaze sank to his arm that was wrapped in a towel.

  Hiro shrugged in reply. It seemed he didn’t want to speak anymore.

  “Well,” said Soul quietly, getting to her feet. “Good night.”

  Hiro shut his eyes. “Sleep well,” he murmured gently, turning his head away.

  Soul crawled under the blankets on the mattress, but then she gave a start. She jumped out of bed and ran to the blankets Hiro had just bought. “Here,” she said, unfolding them and draping them both over him. He looked a little surprised at her thoughtfulness, but Soul didn’t notice. She patted his head before going to the door, which she locked. She then turned off the lights and hurrying back to the mattress where she snuggled under the covers and curled up to sleep.

  On the floor, Hiro stared at the ceiling, his mouth open slightly. It could have been the fact that his system was short-circuiting, but for a moment he had felt a new emotion.