Last night was certainly strange. Just as Emil finished eating his bar, he heard a sudden boom beside him. When he looked, the vending machine was gone. Like, disappear in thin air. The taste of chocolate is gone from his mouth and he pondered if everything that happened is real or was it just his mind crumbling from the stress. He swore it’s the former because all of it felt so real. Even the power he wished remained fresh in his mind, reverberating that it is real.
Although, when he came back home, Emil’s mother greeted him like she usually would. You see, his mother has a knack for smelling snacks and junk food. Whenever Emil comes home just as he ate one, she would know. She’d come pounding across the hallway with her finger ready to drag his ear so he could get an earful of rants. Emil came back home and heard nothing but an invitation to eat Sinigang at the table.
But nothing could compare to the events that would soon unfold the day after.
After classes, Emil would walk to a building across the street from his school. It’s Glendale Karate School. Nobody is here yet, not until another hour and a half. Emil saw Marty already in his uniform practicing his stances on the floor. Marty is a year younger than Emil but he’s already twice bulkier and twice as skilled. It’s a shame how his younger self has already surpassed Emil.
“Emil, want to spar for a bit?”
Emil dusted off his sweat-smelling uniform and agreed to his request. A spar wouldn’t hurt. Might even get the blood pumping before the real practice of the day starts.
The two bowed then kept their stances strong in preparation for a flurry of swipes and jabs. Marty is bigger and faster and Emil knew he stood no chance against him. But he thought that a challenge like that is better for him, as he would know what improvements he should bring to the table. But as his palm grazed Marty by the forearm, he felt a jolt as if he stuck a fork inside a socket. Instead of reeling in the ground in pain, the jolt he received imbibed him with speed and strength. In a slice of a second, Marty dove in for a grab. Emil could see everything happening as if hours were passing. He capitalized on the wide opening and threw Marty on the ground using his shoulder. The dust settled and Emil is the clear victor of the match. Lucky for him, Mr. Reagan was there to see his success and applauded him for the fact.
“Keep improving like that Mr. Jaurigue,” Mr. Reagan smiled as he prepared today’s training gears.
“That was my move,” Marty said. It was true. It was Marty’s signature move that made use of his quick wits and strength. “I can’t believe you just did that,”
“I can’t believe it myself,” Emil looked at his hand with bewilderment on his face. He excused himself to the bathroom so he could have the space to make sense of what the hell just happened. He remembered touching Marty, then in that split millisecond, all of Marty’s technique now ran in his mind. All his strategies in response to opponents of various sizes are now breathing in every fiber of his muscles. All his hard-earned skill, stolen just like that with the slightest of graze. And that is when Emil remembered the events of yesterday. He wished that he could become a sponge for features and skills. Just a touch alone and he could absorb everything that the other person could offer. It was made in jest and now it is real. He could not believe it but he needs to and he should.
Coming out of the bathroom, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. His black hair had specks of gold and eyes threads of jade. Blonde hair and green eyes. Features that Marty is known for. And for a second there, he swore that he looked a little bit taller and more muscular.