Running out of Time

Posted on Sun Nov 24th, 2024 @ 10:42 by Claire Cavendish & Ji-an Yun

Chapter: Besieged
Location: Head Teacher's Office, Avalon Institute
Timeline: Early morning, Wednesday, 3rd of February, 1993
3001 words - 6 OF Standard Post Measure

As the door to her office slowly opened Claire held out a hand to indicate to whomever would be coming in that she was going to be with them in just a moment. The receiver she held against her ear was causing it to glow. "I get that, but your firm is already known to be pro mutant, isn't it?" There was exasperation clearly audible in her voice. "This isn't just about me, you know. What about your son?" When she saw that the person entering was Ji-an she immediately sat up more straight and took in a deep breath. "Look, I know. Thank you. I appreciate all the help you can give me." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "A name. A reference. A dark alley for me to wait in with a manilla envelope full of cash." Another sigh and a smile in the direction of Ji-an. "Thank you. I'll talk to you soon." She returned the receiver to its base a bit too forcefully, wincing. "Sorry." She made her way over to her little ward. "I'm sorry, how are you?"

Since arriving at the Institute, Ji-an had slipped between the cracks of daily life with so little presumption that it had taken very little time for the world around her to adjust as if she'd always been present. That wasn't to say it paid a great deal of attention to her; if anything, the young mutant's entire existence seemed to be punctuated by a brief pause of acknowledgement followed by extended periods of complete obliviousness. A lot of it was due to her demeanor, of course, having no experience with children her own age and certainly very limited exposure to large groups. Whilst the faculty had been trying to implement a plan for her education, Ji-an had proven the consideration entirely unnecessary by one day simply showing up for class alongside the junior grade, sat well in the back so that it was easy to miss her if one wasn't directly invested in not. Very quickly, several things had become exceedingly obvious.

Firstly, the young girl was a fast learner, though there were unusual gaps in her understanding that only made sense when you knew the intricacies of her sheltered upbringing. Where she seemed miles ahead of her peers in some branches of mathematics and science, her grasp of English was still developing, and she approached History classes with the wide-eyed enthrallment of someone given access to a fresh library for the first time. There was evidence of specific skill in gymnastics, and yet she couldn't successfully catch a small ball, and seemed genuinely perplexed by the notion of competitive team sports. The school's computer lab posed very few challenges, and yet it had taken her an entire lesson to learn how to hold a screwdriver correctly. Being simultaneously advanced and in need of remedial work was an interesting challenge but already she'd shown signs of absorbing new information at an astonishing rate. For now, the decision had been made to just leave her with the juniors and see how things went.

Secondly, and somewhat adjacently, it hadn't taken long to realise Ji-an held particular skill and practise in musical theory, having shown proficiency beyond her years in both piano and violin so far. She had also demonstrated artistic skill that seemed to exceed typical benchmarks, and whilst discovering the young girl's eclectic range of talents was no longer quite the shock it had once been, it was her focus and discipline that set her apart from her peers. The self-containment, the lack of guile, the willingness to please and yet lack of expectation of praise or any other accolade... Cameron had once joked that it was like teaching a highly sophisticated robot, a comparison that had met with several awkward chuckles because it hit just a little too close to the mark.

It was just as apt now as, waiting patiently to avoid interruption, Ji-an didn't move from the doorway until invited. In the initial days after her arrival, this would have been accompanied by a downwards deference that angled her gaze towards the carpet, but the continual reassurance, particularly from the head mistress, had at least permitted a natural curiosity to lead to the study of the artworks on the wall. Once approached, Ji-an refocused and, in another recent development, greeted Claire with a beaming smile that lit up her eyes. "Good morning, Ms. Cavendish." Though heavily accented, this simple greeting had been mastered long ago.

"Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea?" Claire got up from her seat behind the desk and motioned for the chesterfields before making her own way to the small cabinet that the administrative staff was sure to keep supplied with fresh hot water and all other tea related consumables. "Biscuit?" The interactions between the head teacher and the youngest of her wards always had the sense of awkwardness from both sides. Like they were both always slightly out of their element.

In keeping with her inexperience with being asked her preference, Ji-an didn't answer, happy to clamber up onto the leather chair and run her fingertips over the dimpled indents. Her feet dangled over the edge without hitting the ground, but rather than succumb to a childish impulse to wriggle and squirm, the young mutant sat perched on the edge of the cushion and, hands clasped in her lap, simply waited. To pass the time, or perhaps to watch it pass, she studied the grandfather clock in its corner, having been slightly repositioned since the last time she'd taken refuge between its pendulum swings. Her captivation with timepieces was entirely understandable and yet none of the faculty had quite come to terms with the intensity of such a small child's fixation. It wasn't the mechanical function of clockwork, Cameron had discerned, though Ji-an had eagerly humoured his collection of broken watches brought out for her benefit. If anything, she just seemed to like to watch the movement.

Even though it was evident that Ji-an was getting used to the language and the environment Claire still felt the hesitance to show herself. It was likely a much larger issue than just the language barrier. She looked up from her position at the tea tray, but didn't expect any audible response. She just poured the tea and put a biscuit on the tray. "There is something I wanted to discuss with you." She placed the tea in front of her young ward before taking a seat in the other chair and picking up her own cup, slowly stirring its contents. The sound of the silverware against the fine china ringing through the otherwise quiet office. "Remember when I told you about the people that wanted to restrict our freedoms?"

The first time the pair had shared tea, Ji-an had waited for permission at almost every turn. Now, as the comforting ritual had become something of a frequent snapshot in time set aside purely for checking in personally with the young girl's progress, it was evident that not only had Ji-an become more accustomed with what was expected of her throughout the ceremony but she was considerably more comfortable taking what must have seemed like liberties to someone raised with very little concept of autonomy. She had scooted forward to the very edge of the chair to lift the tea cup and its saucer to her mouth, a playful puff of air swirling the rising steam as a partial effort to cool the surface. Ji-an hesitated before sipping, inquisitive eyes searching the headmistresses face before she nodded again. "To paint a sign on your head." It wasn't clear if the mutant had taken the phrase literally at some point of if she simply lacked the nuanced language to describe the metaphor in better terms. More notable was the seemingly natural way she excluded herself, yet another example of her tendency to view her own existence as separate to the people around her.

Claire nodded, taking a sip of her own tea. "Those people are going to come to our doorstep. I had hoped to be able to get you to safety but Warden has not been able to arrange another place for you." She hadn't heard back from the man since he had promised to look into alternatives as a reaction to the premonitions given by Phoebe. "So we're going to have to keep you safe here. It's important that people from outside of the Institute don't know you're here." She took a picture from her back pocket and showed it to Ji-an. The picture was of the G.O.U. emblem that was emblazoned on all of their uniforms and lab-coats. "People that wear these are not friends."

It didn't happen often, at least not that anyone had reported, but once in a while Ji-an seemed to descend into a vagueness that took her beyond the present and turned inwards, as if her focus had shifted to the analysis of details beyond the currently tangible. Her case-file pointed out evidence of a fluid relationship with linear time, an affinity that wasn't so much clairvoyance as it was recollection. Every now and then, the little girl seemed to encounter something that her subconscious believed it had already experienced, as if to trigger an impossible memory plucked from the temporal soup that represented the actual and the abstract. Her dark eyes stared at the emblem, distant and unresponsive until a single blink brought her back and she lifted her gaze to meet Claire's.

"I will help."

"No. No, Ji-an, you don't need to help. We'll make sure you're safe. Maybe you need to hide, like you did last time, remember?" Claire felt her heart sink as the young girl offered her assistance. It was the same as when she talked to some of the older students, wanting to protest. Looking for a way to make their impact on this world changing around them. Without being able to have a say. It felt powerless. She knew exactly how powerless. "Cameron and Phoebe will make sure you're safe."

The faintest flicker on the young mutant's brow was too hesitant to really count as a frown. For all she had picked up quite a lot of conversational English since arriving, it was still clear that Ji-an's capacity to understand it far exceeded her ability to express complex thoughts. Her head bowed at the woman's insistence, immediate deference in the form of a huddled apology as she stared into the swirl of a smattering of tea leaves without response but for the very faint movement of her lips. She did this when she ran out of limited means to elaborate and Liana had noted, being one of only a few with the linguistic knowledge to understand, that it was usually an opportunity for her to quietly complete her thoughts in Korean, without any expectation of being heard. In this instance, it seemed to cement an acceptance of Claire's translation, no matter how far from the mark it had actually fallen, and the small dark head bobbed once with a nod of agreement.

There was a sense of relief for having been able to navigate this conversation and the implications of granting this particular individual safe haven inside the institute. Claire sipped her tea, "How have you been doing in school?" She'd always kept herself up to date and the two of them spoke daily, but it was always nice to take a moment and connect with her young ward once more.

No matter what had been going through her head moments earlier, Ji-an had been raised to respond to the queries of her caregivers. Of course, she had also been raised to disclose nothing to anyone outside of the miniscule circle of trusted adults charged with her safety so it spoke volumes of the young mutant's transferral of obedience that she considered not responding to the headmistress as an unacceptable slight. "I like it here." It was a quiet reply, spoken to the tea leaves, but monumental in its conveyance of a preference outside what the small child viewed as expectation.

Claire smiled at that. "I'm glad to hear it." another contemplative sip of her tea. "I'm sure you miss home." There had always been a bit of a respectful distance between them. Ji-an wasn't one of those kids that was particularly into hugs or anything, and the times that the head teacher had tried to share a moment like that it had felt more awkward than anything. "You know that if there's anything you want, or have questions about, you can just ask, right?"

Though her head was still angled demurely towards her lap, Ji-an's gaze slowly lifted until she was peering at the headmistress through bangs that were slightly too long. Had she the words to explain it, she may have pointed out how unusual it was to have an adult, especially her significant caretaker, offer to take her preferences into consideration. Abeoji was a kindly man in his own way but perpetually worried and lost inside his own thoughts most of the time. His visits had been structured, and always for a purpose even if it was just to eat a meal. Their subterranean home had been comfortable but captivity could only be dressed up so much, and even after the arboretum had been built to provide at least the illusion of daylight and the great outdoors, the little girl's existence was still defined by the physical, and subsequent emotional, boundaries required for her own safety. The freedoms Claire offered were alien and, as such, there were still so many things that didn't even occur to Ji-an to ask for. The habit of selflessness played heavily into her eventual response.

"Wear the red shoes."

Her earnest expression pleaded for understanding beyond her limited vocabulary. Contextualising her odd request saw the young mutant's nose scrunch in frustration.

"When you leave."

You will have to get used to the way she just knows things from time to time. Warden's voice rose from previous conversation despite his notable absence to provide explanation. Time isn't quite as linear for her as it is the rest of us.

The toe of one shoe tapped against the sole of the other, a stretch for little legs that didn't quite reach the ground.

"Not the bora...purple ones."

That only raised more questions with the Head Mistress. She looked at her shoes. Sensible low heeled black pumps. She didn't remember having worn the Blahniks Ji-an seemed to refer in the time the young mutant had been here. Then again it wasn't something she kept a log on or anything. In the institute it was usually the more sensible pumps and ballerina style shoes.

"Why is that?" Claire asked, hoping she might be able to shed some more light on the situation. Had she not been as young as she was, and had they not been hampered by the language barrier, she'd have tried to focus on the prophesied future from Phoebe's hand.

Even if she'd had the words, talking about her powers was something Ji-an had been drilled to view as strictly prohibited. It was true that this situation was ambiguous, the headmistress had officially replaced the young girl's father as sole custodian and, along with Warden and Korean scientist himself, Claire had the most comprehensive file on what the girl had manifested to date. Obedience was a vice, however, a choke-hold without lenience and so perhaps it was a blessing that a full explanation would have required a translator. In its place, there was only a meek flutter of eyelashes and the quiet assurance of, "It will be...happier, if you do."

"Thank you." How exactly that worked, and why it would affect the happiness or influence the outcome was a mystery. Chances were it was self-fulfilling but any prophecy that saw a brighter future was one Claire'd be happy to embrace. "Any further fashion advice I should take into account?" A friendly smile, it was a good sign Ji-an was trusting enough to share her insights. She had to encourage that.

The lingering expression of bewilderment bore close enough resemblance to curiosity that Ji-an at least didn't seem overly uncomfortable about her lack of understanding. Humour was still hard to discern, at least from spoken words alone, as it so often relied on turns of phrase that didn't translate well when taken literally. Claire was smiling, however, which was invitation enough for the young girl to return the gesture. "I like your hair." The compliment was given with a tinge of timidity, though it made it somewhat clear that the interpretation Ji-an had arrived at was some sort of evaluation of appearance.

There was a moment where Claire wondered what about her hair would be interesting. Then it occurred to her that the natural colour was quite unnatural. "Thank you, Ji-an." She glanced over at the grandfather clock and then back at Ji-an, "How about we go get an early lunch?" She got up and offered a hand to the young girl to lead the way to the large dining hall downstairs.

The delay in reaction had improved over time, at least. Only for a few seconds did the young girl sit without moving, her unblinking stare the epitome of innocent ignorance as she processed not only the unfamiliar words but the strange consideration for her comfort that sat behind them. Ji-an moved carefully once ready to accept, however, gently sliding forward until her feet touched the ground so she could set down her half-finished drink without spilling. Momentary bashfulness reduced her smile to a faint one but her tiny hand found Claire's with a willingness to trust that had not always been present. She didn't verbalise her agreement because, as was often the case, Ji-an hadn't viewed the offer as a request or even a suggestion.