20 Border Skirmishes, Part One
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He left her sleeping on top of the covers, hair spread across the pillow, shoes carefully lined up in front of one end of the mattress. Safe, probably.

He wasn't going to wait for an escort, no matter what the doctor said. Tsuyoshi figured there wasn't much the place could do to him that was worse than sticking him there in the first place, and it wasn't like staying in the hospital would lower the chances of someone attacking him again. This place wanted them paranoid and restless. It was working.

It wasn't like he could do anything about it, either.

And at least if he went to help Sophie with her crazy idea that would mean doing something other than waiting for someone to get hurt.

He found Sophie in the cafeteria where she was trying to convince Tabitha of something, pointing at the walls while Tabitha stubbornly crossed her arms and looked sceptical. He whirled in and sat on one of the tables, slamming a hand on the plastic-y surface next to him so they'd have to pay attention.

They both looked over immediately.

"What do you want me to do? How am I supposed to help?" he asked.

Sophie squealed and clapped her hands. "I'm so happy Tsuyoshi's willing to help. I was thinking streamers everywhere to really cheer up the place. Did you know there's an arts and crafts room and it's full of stuff?"

"I... did not," he said.

Tabitha huffed. "Streamers are tacky."

"Yes, but fun tacky," Sophie insisted. "Right, Tsuyoshi?"

"If you say so. I didn't go to any of my school dances. But I went to house parties, and you need food, or people get drunk and throw up everywhere. I'm not cleaning that up."

"Correct," Tabitha said. "And that means you have to get past them."

At this she pointed at the kitchen robots. They all swivelled their featureless faces towards them at once, as if they were listening. Creepy.

Sophie tilted her head to the side and tapped at her cheekbone. "Hmm. I know! Maybe they can help! Angharad knows things about robots. I bet she can talk to them."

The kitchen robots all turned back to the trays of food, as if pretending not to eavesdrop.

"Are we supposed to invite the robots?" Tsuyoshi questioned, trying not to imagine what that would be like.

"Why not? It could be nice," Sophie said.

But, first, they had to invite all the people. Sophie favoured telling people individually, and Tabitha wanted to let the news spread like gossip, but Tsuyoshi decided he would make a sign and stick it on the outside of a building everyone went past.

"But what if someone doesn't read that language?" Sophie said.

"Whatever," Tsuyoshi said. Breathed out aggressively. "Most people here can read English. There's one guy who only speaks Viet and the doctor can translate for him. This is so much less work."

Sophie started talking about taking dates and songs for couples dances and all that crap that Tsuyoshi couldn't stand. He wasn't the only one. Out of the corner of one eye, he watched Tabitha purse her lips, cross her arms, and look away. He wasn't even slightly interested in asking what that was about.

"Just play music," Tsuyoshi said. "People will dance or they won't. I don't like mopey ballads. You don't like the electric guitar. You can't game it so everyone will be happy."

"Guitars are for old people music," Sophie said.

"That you're just not cool enough to appreciate. That's sad for you."

He didn't care enough to listen for her comeback. Instead, he got down to making the poster, with the same skills he'd developed to promote his friend Ming's terrible band, and only looked up to ask when and where Sophie wanted this dance to happen.

He did feel a little proud when they were outside, taping it to a wall. Not that anyone looked like they were appreciating his efforts, yet. Except maybe Josephine, standing fifty metres away with her girlfriend, talking about something and looking over at them.

He couldn't help but think of what Angharad had sleepily confessed to him that morning, as he'd wrapped her in his sheets. He snorted with laughter and looked back at Tabitha and Sophie, once again arguing over party decorations. It would be a disaster. He couldn't wait.

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