You think things have to be possible? Things have to be true!
-Philip Pullman
The Subtle Knife

Currently, freeway traffic was a lot lower than usual. This was a good thing, seeing how Hiroko had a tendency to get a bit frazzled whenever another auto shot past too quickly for her taste. However, being independent as she was, she also refused to take Fordo's aid when he offered it.

She pulled up to the parking lot of the Westmarch Latte Lounge, a small café, but lively. The tables were filled with students and businessmen off on an early lunch. Behind the counter stood a man of Palestinian descent who smiled brightly when he saw her approaching.

"Here again? That's the third time this week!"

"I know," she laughed. "I just can't help myself."

"I'm not complaining. It goes in my cheque."

"That's right! I'm assisting the country's declining income."

He had a smooth, rich laugh: full of life and mirth. "The usual?"

"Two, please."

He set to work on Hiroko's order. "Who's your friend?"

Hiroko tipped her head to the boy beside her. "This is Fordo. He's new here. Fordo-san, this is Latte Man."

Latte Man nodded. "Shalom."

"Latte Man? Creative."

He shrugged. "It fits."

"Latte Man makes the best chai in Westmarch," Hiroko explained. "Hands down. I've been coming here once a week ever since it opened."

"Except this week when I can't get rid of her."

"So long as I'm buying you can't kick me out."

He pulled out two cups to fill with warm, sweet liquid and started shaking cinnamon on them out of a plastic shaker. "I've noticed." Two capped containers were set before them. "£4, please."

Fordo searched his pockets quickly. "Shite, I'm broke." The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Hiroko turned toward him, handing a mug in his direction. "I can't-"

"Don't worry about it," she replied. He eyed the cup warily. "For God's sake, feminism happened. You aren't paying me back and that's final." The cup was shoved in his hand and she headed towards a table by the window. He shook his head and followed her to a seat.

"What is this, anyway?" he asked, indicating the drink.

"House chai. What else?" She sipped greedily. "It's quite addicting."

He took a drink. "Oh my God."

"Precisely." For a moment they sat in silence, each drinking their chai. Hiroko gazed out the window at the cars passing in the street. Across the way sat a black auto with tinted windows that was sitting still at the curb. What Westmarch car had coloured windows and, more importantly, wasn't moving on a Saturday morning?

"Lady?" The word distracted her and she turned quickly to the speaker. Fordo was looking down at his chai with a troubled expression. "Might now be a good time to say what's wrong with me?"

She sighed. This wouldn't be easy. "I guess so. You'll have to learn eventually, right?" She took a quick drink before turning and focusing on Fordo. "Please understand something, Fordo. No one knows fully what your...condition is called, least of all me. All the data and research is at the Uracil Centre and it's hard enough to get out of there, let alone get in. Moscoe has...ways of stopping visitations."

"Okay..."

"Please also understand that what I'm going to tell you may be slightly upsetting."

"The truth often is."

"Well said." Hiroko paused for a moment to get her bearings. "The Coalition for United Prosperity is an organisation that helps out people who society wishes not to accept. Basil founded it about a year ago and has since been working to take it world-wide. We have little groups throughout Western Europe but that's not the whole world, as much as people think it is. Of course Home is the only establishment to really be working out well, but these things take time." Fordo was looking at her in puzzlement. "I digress." He nodded in agreement. "Sorry. See, the C.U.P. tries to find kids who aren't really accepted for their abilities, takes them in, teaches them, and helps them to really face the world."

"What abilities do you mean?"

"Well, me for instance. I'm blue and, as if that weren't enough, I can read minds. And then there's you." Fordo was silent. "What do you know about yourself, Fordo Summers?"

"I...I don't get hurt."

"Anything else?" He shook his head. "Christ, this'll be harder than I thought. Okay, I can do this." Her attentions returned to the boy. "From what I've been told, you have this ability to re-grow tissue really quickly. We can all do it; it just seems you do it a lot faster. This is to the extent that you could probably regain limbs in a matter of days or even hours."

"Sort of like a gecko?"

"A bit, yes, but more so. See, this capability has enhanced since you've had it. Instead of only enhancing your regenerative ability, it could also be slowing your ageing process."

"But what does this-" Then it hit him. All that the girl had been saying came together quickly in a single thought that utterly terrified him. "So, wait." Fordo tried to get his feelings removed from his head. "I can't...die?"

The girl sighed. "In layman's terms, yes. That is it."

"Never?"

"As far as I know." She sipped her chai. "Basil hasn’t told me everything but I’m pretty sure it's not a Highlander thing where there's a weakness or something ridiculous like that."

He was definitely reaching a state of shock. "So...the reason I was...was taken to the Centre was because...I can't...get ill?"

"Yes."

"That's my disease."

"Yes."

"The reason I was trapped in and institution, ripped of my privacy and forced to eat Jell-O everyday is because-"

"Yes."

He fell out of his rage and slumped in his chair. "Fuck."

"Yes." They returned to silence for a time. Hiroko fiddled with a coffee stirrer and Fordo sat staring off into space. How could his problems over the past few weeks all revolve around the single fact that he had the one thing everyone else seemed to want: immortality? He heard the girl across from him sigh. Looking up, he saw her also staring off; looking, it seemed, at the tiled floor. "Sucks, doesn't it?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You're just trying to live through the tenth grade, maybe pass a few classes, remember your lock combination and house key simultaneously. But no one will talk to you. Your locker gets vandalised, your house egged, your shite stolen." Her eyes shifted up to him, catching him off-guard with their rich, dark colour. "I'm not going to make you do anything, Fordo." He couldn’t stop looking into those eyes. "I just think you should know that there are people in the world who know what you're going through." He looked confused. "You don't have to be alone anymore."

Fordo felt something then that he couldn't truly explain and he felt no real need to. There was something about Hiroko that made him believe her and trust her. He knew that what she was saying was ludicrous. After all, people weren't blue in real life. That was the kind of thing you read about in imported comic books. But, somehow, he did believe her. Without cause or reason.

Hiroko stretched slightly, feeling the usual itch in her body that came from staying in the same place too long. The wall clock read a later hour than she had expected. "Come, Fordo. We've lingered here too long." Now, he determined, was not a good time to question further. They gathered up their coats and cups and headed for the door and outside. As they headed off to the place called Home, a black auto with tinted windows shifted into Drive.

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Fordo: And finally, Kirily explains what in God's name is wrong with her protagonist. Took her ruddy long enough. Stupid authors with their delayed explanations. Not everyone cares about dramatically revealing a major plot point, Miss Lazy-Pants!

Die Autor: Miss Lazy-Pants? What the crap??

Fordo: Not all of us have an overly extensive and obscenely creative vocabulary!

Die Autor: True, but not all of us are overly accustomed to reading Marxist documents, yet you expect the rest of us to understand your stammerings of supposed truth and the proletarian revolution.

Fordo: So? I'm the sexy and slightly mysterious main character! I'm allowed to be opinionated and overly interested with the working class. It's my "charm".

Die Autor: Charm this! (moves Fordo to a remote area of Minnesota where a Baptist service is all-ready in progress)

Random Preacher: Son, have you found the Lord?

Fordo: NOOOOOOOOOooooooooo!!1!

There. That should take care of those pesky characters for a while. Sorry it took so long for the new chapter. I won't make any excuses because you probably don't care. Please read and review, just so I know how much I suck. *cue slight smile* Must dash. The Baptist's are about to convert my boy-o.

Kirily Wood