Psychic Parasite

Chapter 5：Induction
”Heima, you’re running late. Today is your Induction Day.” A voice travelled into the room before the knob of the door was turned; an apron-wearing lady entered. The woman had black eyes, long nose, cherry lips, and skin that glistened with a faint lustre. Her long black hair that looked like silk was tied up into a bun, giving her a mature charm despite her rotund figure.

The lady saw Heima, clutching the figure of Jyorta, tickling him until tears leaked out of his eyes. There was also a mildly pained expression on his face, possibly because the tickling session went beyond his tolerance levels.

Upon seeing her, Heima immediately let go of her brother and acted innocent. Taking the chance of freedom, Jyorta hurriedly ran towards the lady, hugging her while breaking into a sob. He barely reached the height of her hips, the reason being the tall stature of the woman.

”Mom, I…” Jyorta stuttered, tears still streaming out of his eyes. A pair of hands wrapped around his head and massaged his back, in hopes of easing his mind.

”You did nothing wrong child,” The woman consoled. She then glared at Heima, prompting the girl to quickly scramble to her feet. ”You have 40 minutes to reach school. Don’t come crying to me if you miss the Induction Ceremony.”

7:50 AM, Heima noticed the time, her face turning pale as she rushed into the bathroom. Sounds of water gushing out of a tap rang out, making the lady shake her head and walk to the hall, with Jyorta in tow. She silently kept watch of the time, preparing the breakfast, arranging a pile of messy books into a school bag.

Jyorta stuck to her like glue, observing her actions; sometimes mimicking her, often times making a mess of the stuff. The lady seldom got angry with him, patiently correcting his mistakes, making him repeat the actions until he understood the source of his mistakes.

8:10 AM, Heima ran down the stairs, her uniform in a mess. She descended half the steps, jumped over the rest, accurately landing on the floor. Buttoning her shirt, she tucked it in her frock, making it look presentable.

”Jyorta, it’s time to brush your teeth. Hurry on before it’s too late.” The lady said, packing some rotis in a box. She then scooped some gravy made from a mixture of peas, butter, potatoes, and tomato syrup. Adding some spices for seasoning and coriander leaves at the top, she filled a box with it. Packing the assortment of food in a lunch bag, she placed it on the dining table, before the impatient looking Heima.

”Mom, where’s my breakfast?” Heima asked as she held her grumbling stomach, looking at the figure of Jyorta silently trying to stuff a morsel into his mouth, without brushing his teeth.

”It will harm you more than do you good. You will end up vomiting it out after the Induction ceremony ends.” The lady said, holding the sneaky Jyorta in one hand and fixing up Heima with the other.

8:15 AM, Heima, accompanying a tired-looking man boarded a train, heading towards her school. The lady waved her hands and returned to her home, finding Jyorta stuffing his face with the food. Leaking out a chuckle, she resumed with packing another batch of books in a bag and preparing another lunch bag.

8:45 AM, Jyorta, accompanying his mother boarded a train. Finding a couple of vacant seats next to the window, Jyorta pulled his mother along. Affixing his face on the glass window, Jyorta exclaimed at the tall scyscrappers their train passed through.

”Mrs. Bone, fancy seeing you here.” A man who sat opposite to them lowered his newspaper and exclaimed in surprise. He lifted his hat and performed a gentleman’s bow.

”Mr. Smith, how’s your wife these days? I heard her health had deteriorated since the Phantom Wave.” The lady, Mrs. Bone said. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed an abrupt change in the expression of Jyorta for an instant, worrying her.

’It has been occurring at frequent intervals these days. Even our family elders have been helpless in determining the cause.’ She thought, showing no changed in her facial expression.

”I used my savings to admit her in the Aurora Hospital, the one in the 6th Ring. Even though I spent most of my savings, thankfully, she is fully cured.” The man replied, failing to mask his financial straits.

The two engaged in casual chatter while Jyorta gazed through the window, oblivious to his unfocused eyes. The blue soul gazed at the surroundings, masking its presence to avoid the host noticing it and igniting a chain rejection. Gazing at the surroundings, at the rapidly changing scenery, faint blue threads squirmed within the blue soul.

’The architecture style corresponds to our 21st century skyscrapers. But here, there are no unique buildings. All are skyscrapers constructed in the same style, same height, and same dimensions. The metro train has routes that sometimes go through the skyscrapers, not just once. But, there are no cars here. The roads on the ground surface are only filled with people who walk. The only transport I have seen till date is this metro train.’

’Hmm, this mother character is scary. She actually noticed the faint instant I connected to the eyes of the host. She is so perceptive, unlike the father character. I shouldn’t appear until Jyorta reaches his school.’

In an instant since the change, the eyes of Jyorta reverted back to normal, enjoying the sparse sunlight that hit his face. The blue soul no longer connected to his senses, silently staying within its confines, without any idea of the progress of time.

”Next station: Sector 4, 1st Academy Street.” A mechanical voice resounded, prompting Mrs. Bone to get up, her left hand holding Jyorta. Jyorta waved his hand at the uncle and got down with his mother. Swiping a card through an entry, the duo passed through a restriction and arrived at an escalator.

Since it was rush hours, making the area crowded, the duo had to patiently wait their turn before boarding the escalator that went down. After a short wait, the duo reached a platform with directions affixed on a wide board.

Without taking a glance at it, the duo proceeded right, the direction where the board with ’1st Academy’ pointed at. Following the crowd, the duo reached a screening area. There were about 20 separate queues, lining parallel to one another. In a matter of minutes, the duo reached the screening as Mrs. Bone fished out an ID card and handed it to Jyorta.

With familiarity, Jyorta swiped the card in a designated location, opening the gates before him. Turning behind to wave at his mother, Jyorta sped along the crowd, quickly finding some of his friends for company.

Mrs. Bone gazed at the silhouette of her son for a long time, until she could no longer see him, heaving a sigh with worry. She then boarded another metro train and returned home. Looking at her vacant home, Mrs. Bone paced around with a longing expression.

’After Heima’s Induction, I can no longer enjoy such leisure. I will be redrafted back into the army soon.’

Closing the door behind her, closing the curtains to shield the sunlight, and checking around the hall to ensure everything was in place, Mrs. Bone fished out a delicate looking card from her pocket. She inserted it in a socket behind the TV and placed her thumb on the screen. The screen flashed to life as a thin green light scanned her from to head to toe, finally pausing on her eyes for a couple of seconds.

The screen flashed to reveal the visage of an old man who looked to be in his eighties. The man had a head with greyish-white hair, his face filled with wrinkles. His beard was trimmed to match the style of a military veteran, his eyes filled with wisdom and the cunning of an old fox.

”Old bastard,” Mrs. Bone said in a hurry, ”Have you figured the reason for Jyorta’s condition?”

”Can you not address me in such a manner? I am, after all, the family head.” The man said, showing zero traces of emotion in his eyes, looking like a frozen lake, incapable of forming ripples on its surface.

Seeing Mrs. Bone standing without uttering another word, the old man paused for a minute, taking his sweet time to recollect his thoughts. ”We haven’t managed to identify it. Technically, Jyorta is perfectly healthy, showing no signs of disorder.”

Mrs. Bone severed the connection, no longer having enough patience to hear his rambling. She filled a glass of water, mixed a teaspoon of sugar in it, and sat on the sofa, downing it with a single gulp.

A long time later, she walked towards her bedroom, standing before a full-length mirror, inspecting her rotund figure. There was a trace of hesitation in her eyes, concealed by her worries. Time passed in such a manner when the bell chimed twice. Mrs. Bone walked to the door, gazing through the peephole to find a familiar face. She then opened the door and greeted the man.

”Dear, how was it? How did Heima fare?” Barely reigning in her anxiousness, she took the overcoat handed to her and hanged it at one corner. The man, sporting a small beard and a disheveled hair that covered his handsome face, walked in, removed his shoes, and rested his aching back on the sofa.

Taking a glass of water Mrs. Bone handed over, he took a few sips to rehydrate himself. Leaning on the sofa, he said, ”I never knew Heima possessed such a strong will. She managed to shock me senseless, not to mention the rest of the school.”

”How much was it?” Mrs. Bone leaned over, her worries increasing by a fold. She gazed with bated breath, controlling her anxious heart.

”She managed a Sync Rate of 89%, the highest in the 1st Academy over the past 10 years. Her Sync Rate is the second-highest in the whole 7th Ring.” Mr. Bone rubbed his temples, an action he did to control his emotions.

”That child,” Mrs. Bone did her best to control her anger. ”Why must she never listen? She would have to live the rest of her life on the battlefield.”

”Let me try asking for Dr. Steven’s help on this matter. Maybe he can help us.” Mr. Bone said.

”I will attempt a breakthrough.” Mrs. Bone stood up, walked to a drawer, and pulled out a stack of documents. The papers suddenly slipped out of her hands and appeared in Mr. Bone’s.

”I am not allowing you to court death. You aren’t prepared enough to attempt a breakthrough at present.” Mr. Bone said, flipping through the documents when his eyes were fixated on a certain command, affixed with the stamp of the military. Reading through it, his gaze shuddered.

Mrs. Bone took the documents with trembling hands and sighed once again, ”In a month, my presence will be required on the battlefield. I have been drafted for a Flying Signature Raid.”