Jimin Ki Archives/VI: Training is a Pain in the Arse

Chingu: Korean honorific. Commonly used between Koreans of the same age. It's actual translation is "friend".

CONNOR WAS AMAZING. Not only could he climb with amazing speed and land perfectly, but he could run perhaps even faster than sound. A dream of any DC or Marvel fanboy. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but compare him to Zero, who’s reflexes I could accurately recount from yesterday. In a short demonstration, he completed the whole entire obstacle course in the span of five minutes. When he finished, he walked back over to me with a genuinely amused smile.

Thankfully he didn’t point out my jaw had dropped five feet in amazement.

“Impressive?” he simply asked in his light accent.

I nodded in response, finding the sense to close my mouth. I swallowed and looked up at him in anticipation. Could I do that with enough training? Just thinking of the endless possibilities of what I could do if I reached the type of level seemed to hurt my brain. Connor gestured for me to follow him to the middle of the room, which didn’t have anything occupying it besides the mat floor because all the equipment was more or less on the perimeter of the room. He seats himself on the floor, his legs crisscrossed like the way they taught us in primary school. I did the same as him, tucking my feet beneath me.

“So Jimin, do you know how to speed up?” Connor asked, his light European accent conflicting with his Korean. Speed… up? How do I speed up? Is this a metaphor for a warm up? I shook my head, not understanding what he meant by speed up, refusing to regard the classic way of “speed up”. By physically increasing your speed. This was probably due to the fact that I believe we were just naturally fast.

“That is what we work on today,” he told me. “Speeding up, increasing your strength, stability, and flexibility all include harnessing your energy.” I nodded again to signal that I was listening and at least comprehending what he was saying. If he’s using energy, when does he get tired? Does he ever get tired? Connor furrowed his eyebrows, confused for a second. “No, no today, not right now. We work on it after you take your test.”

I blinked, not wanting to give any sort of sign that I knew what he was talking about. But I did know what he was talking about, and that’s what scared me. Dr. Maxwell had mentioned something about having to take a test or a series of tests to determine my patron. I also remember him saying something about most of them being painless. While that was great, most wasn’t a good thing to go off if I wanted to guess how many tests would actually be painless.

“H-How does… the t-test work?” I stuttered for the first time since I had entered the room. Hearing my nervous voice seemed to have goaded Connor to soften his voice as well.

“The test they will give does not hurt, I promise,” he assured me. “I took it. I did not feel a single thing.” While Connor’s happy attitude did comfort me, it did not comfort my buzzing brain. Thoughts whirred, zipping through the air in imaginary speech bubbles as if I was reading a comic book that was flipping its pages by itself way too fast. Before I was done sorting my thoughts, he began speaking again. “The test is a mental one. You will be given a sedative that will put in a dreamlike unconscious state where we can monitor your brain patterns. You will see hallucinations that Dr. Maxwell himself monitors and controls, and you need to solve the hallucinations in whatever way you see fit.”

“Wh-Whatever way I-I see fit?” I mumbled nervously, biting my lip. “W-What if that’s the wrong way?” I continued, worry etched into my tone. Connor grinned at me reassuringly, his pearly whites glowing stars.

“No way is the wrong way,” he explained. “The way you choose is your way, and that’s the only thing that matters.”

I smiled softly at him, placing my hands in my lap. “Thank you… Connor?” I struggled to pronounce his foreign name. He simply excused it with another one of his warm sunshine smiles. “When… when d-do I take the t-test?”

“In a good fifteen minutes or so,” he informed me. “Dr. Maxwell and some officials are getting the testing room ready. It is just inside—” Connor gestured to one of the several doorways connecting this training room to other mysterious rooms filled with unknown things, “—there.” He lowered his arm and looked back at me, his eyes glittering. “Do you want to play a game? Maybe, twenty questions?"

I thought about it. A short game of twenty questions could probably fit into fifteen minutes if nothing dramatic happened, which I doubted. I nodded again. Connor strangely didn’t seem to have an issue with my quiet demeanor, as did the rest of the Seven and Zero. I didn’t know, maybe because they understood my situation? They all had probably been in my situation at one point. I bet even the rest of LV has been in this situation at some time. They understand being scared, and they want to help quell that fear for newcomers. It was a heartwarming thing to think about and gave me a type of courage that filled up my insides with positive warmth.

“I will go first,” Connor volunteered. I didn’t interject. I had no problem going second anyway. It gives me more time to think of a question. “What is your favorite color?”

I don’t consider myself to have a favorite color. I decided to pick a random one, but then the mysterious boy’s endless brown eyes flashed before my eyes, and then I saw Zero’s vibrant green eyes flash before me as well. “Green and Brown,” I told him with a sort of finality that somehow seemed to completely seal my favorite colors forever in stone. Maybe I would forever just like Green and Brown and not know why.

“Green and Brown? Interesting pair,” Connor noted, tapping his fingers on his knee. “Your turn. Don’t be afraid to ask me a question. I will answer, I promise.”

I opened my mouth, ready to shoot some random question at Connor, but I decided against it. I thought for a couple seconds, and it irked me to use a question I had already asked myself about Connor. “How… d-did you learn h-how to speak Korean s-so well?”

Connor chuckled, continuing to drum his fingers on his knee, tilting his head back as if in thought. “Well… Dr. Maxwell had most of the staff and trainers learn Korean because the Institute was in Korea,” he began, seeming to reconcile some thoughts. “He paid for very good instructors, and with the superhuman intelligence, it’s not very difficult once you find a pattern and get the hand of it.” When he finished explaining, I refrained from facepalming, but that did not stop my stupidity from slapping me in the face. Despite all the talk of superhuman intelligence, I had not once thought about it ever affecting how the staff and other foreigners like the Seven learned such good Korean.

“What’s your favorite sport?” he asked, surprising me. I wasn’t one known to participate in many sports, but I didn’t have anything against football. I had played a few times and scored quite a few goals, so for the sake of my self-esteem, I considered myself I good football player. I shrugged and answered with a dull-sounding, “Football.”

We continued playing for a few minutes, gradually gaining some more fun facts about each other. Connor was indeed from Europe. He was actually Portuguese and spoke English, Korean, Portuguese, and Spanish. It was amazing he could speak four languages when I could barely say a sentence in English. I told him about how my parents worked or ran famous companies in Korea and he told me about his life in Portugal before coming to work at the Institute. He also told me there were bases all over the world, that hailed names like “the Fourth Institute”. The Institute was the first one built, so they just called it “the Institute” opposed to the others.

I found it ever so fascinating, so I didn’t even notice one of the doors on the left side of the room slide open and reveal a blue haired boy with black framed glasses and a blank expression until Connor glanced over his shoulder and pointed it out to me.

“Ah, Lin, there you are,” Connor chirped happily, standing up.

“Good Morning, Connor,” the boy, Lin, muttered. “We’re ready for test taking so can you bring the boy with you, now?”

“Sure.” Connor turned to me and gestured for me to stand up, and once I did he squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry. You’ll do fine. Lin is trustworthy, I promise.”

I glanced at Lin with what I could assume was an unreadable expression, for he stared back at me with that expression too. I figured Lin wasn't Korean, despite his general Asian look that most foreigners tend to confuse with other Asian countries. His face shape was different, and so was his eye shape. To foreigners, maybe just slightly different, but I saw a major difference through my eyes who were used to picking out the differences of my people.

I concluded he was Vietnamese. His eyes were naturally much larger than most of the people I know, and his skin wasn't pale either. Actually, it was decently tan. His eyes were brown like the rest of us (besides Zero, my head reminded me quite strangely) but his haircut reminded me of something more Korean Pop style. He wasn't too tall I guess. He was taller than me but Connor beat both of us by a longshot. The best guess I'd have is to ask for his name so I can confirm it, but my social awkwardness wasn't about to let me have one victory.

Lin's eyes flickered downward and slowly rose upward, and I could tell he was studying me, possibly sizing me up. He adjusted his glasses again and opened his mouth to speak. "My name is Ha Lin," he said, his voice strictly monotone. He spoke in perfect Korean with no accent but his last name definitely wasn't Korean or Chinese. I didn't exactly have much interest in Japanese etymology so I was less familiar with Japanese surnames. I didn't want to flat out be rude and ask if he was Vietnamese. I was a very conservative person anyway, asking a personal question like that would kill me on the inside.

"Annyoung, Ki Jimin-chingu, " Lin continued. I bite my lip, conflicted between curiosity, fear, among other things I couldn't name right now. Of all honorifics Lin chose to use, he used chingu, suggesting we were the same age and therefore on the same speaking level. It excused the unexpected informal hello, but it sparked my curiosity even more about the stranger. I wanted to ask more questions but I could not find my voice.

Connor, who had been watching us with the expression of a confused puppy, broke the silence that I continued to contribute to by announcing it was time to go. Connor bid his goodbye to me and left the training room, leaving me alone with Lin. Lin wasted no time or words. He snapped his fingers and gestured for me to follow him as he turned on his heel and headed towards the door that he had first slipped out of.

The door slid open and we stepped inside to the sub-room. The second room of the training room establishment was quite dim and I could barely see the outline of powered down computers, projection screens, and holograms as well as a chair in the middle of the room surrounded by shapes I couldn't identify. Lin's first mission apparently was to turn on the lights, which I was mighty grateful for. I could not clearly see everything and suddenly I found myself wishing the lights would turn off again.

Like I had assumed, in the middle of the once dim room was a large leather chair with straps, probably to hold down its inhabitant. Partially surrounding the chair in a half circle were computer-like devices, possibly to monitor my progress on the test. Scattered around the room were more monitors, desks, and tools. On a tray next to the chair, I swore I could see a syringe lying there.

A flash of my encounter with that mysterious boy at Dr. Maxwell's apartment whooshed past my eyes and I shuddered in results. Never again, I subconsciously pleaded. Lin led me to the chair for me to lie down in it. I was anything but eager to do it but I had no will to defy anything currently planned as of now. There was no energy for it. While I reassured myself I wouldn't die in this chair, Lin strapped me in, checking to see if they were tight enough so I would be incapable of moving during the test.

After that, he went over to the computers behind me to start them up. I could no longer see Lin which both reassured me and scared me. While Lin's robotic like attitude did scare me, now that I was in the Institute, I didn't enjoy wallowing in my solitude quite as much anymore.