[8] confession

Angelo turned towards the girl and grabbed my wounded arm. He showed it off, the black blood. "There," he said, "he's an android."

The girl kept frowning with her arms crossed. Tilting her torso, she squinted at my arm, then straightened again. "And the girl?"

Angelo let go of me. Then, calmly, he walked towards Scarlett. I didn't bother watching him cut her. I just stared at my wound. The black stuff oozing out. And for this disorienting, overwhelming, inexplicable moment, I doubted my identity. We didn't even know exactly how we were made if the human race was extinct, so...could we...No. Nonsense. I was human. I'd seen my red blood before countless times.

I poked the cut in my arm. The inky substance splattered onto my finger, and the rest trickled down my skin. But then this load ended, and the red color came again. Red. I gasped. Quickly, I pushed my sleeve down before the girls could notice.

I didn't know how, but Angelo had managed to make the surface blood turn black. The rest was normal.

When I landed back onto reality, Angelo had finished up with Scarlett and showed the girls black blood. Scarlett looked as confused as me. And yet neither of us dared to speak, move, breathe—we just let Angelo save our butts.

"Planning to battle soon?" the dark-haired girl said.

Angelo nodded. "Planning to win."

The confidence in Angelo's voice pissed the girl off, and she hardly maintained an unbothered pretense. "Good luck, then," she said. A smirk pulled at her mouth. "Try not to mess up again, yeah?" Through my peripheral, I caught Angelo tensing. Like her mere words tugged at the tautest, most raw nerve in him. "You have history, you know—"

Angelo clenched his jaw. A vein popped in his neck. "Shut up," he spat. "Shut up before I cut your tongue. Before you talk about my past, remember yours. The most useless Assassin in existence. These newbies"—he pointed at us—"could do better than you."

She glared at him with the sum of all the hatred in the world. By what Angelo said, I could tell she'd been their Assassin. Their...ex-Assassin. She knew things about him. He knew things about her. And I didn't know shit about either of them. Fair.

"You know what makes me wanna puke?" the girl said. "That I used to like you."

"Yeah." Angelo nodded. "It makes me wanna puke too."

With a disgusted expression, the girl left, followed by her friend. I sighed. Angelo set his eyes on Scarlett and clenched his jaw. Pissed. He was damn pissed now. Not that he personally cared about us and what could've happened had he not appeared—it was just that he needed us on his team. I had to keep reminding myself of that.

No real love. No real connection. Bots could never give us that. Even androids like Angelo with emotions. They couldn't. Scarlett told me so.

I hated that.

"You stupid piece of shit," Angelo said, lunging at Scarlett. I shifted, ready to defend, but he only grabbed her by the arm. And for the first time ever, Scarlett didn't defy. Didn't struggle. Didn't yell and shout.

She...She just stood, motionless, wordless. With a frown that wasn't angry. A frown that was ashamed. When she caught my eye, the shame intensified by a thousand, then she looked away.

I understood now.

Of course the only thing to jar her this hard was my life in threat. She'd never had to worry about me dying until now. She was blaming herself for the situation. For me getting backed up against a tree, with a snarling android in front of me, and a knife on my skin.

I wanted to tell her she shouldn't blame herself. I was part of this too. I chose to follow her even though I knew it was dangerous. Even though I knew I should've returned and called Angelo. But in that moment, deciding whether to run after her or not, the fear of separation had overwhelmed me.

We'd never been separated. All we had was each other.

"I'm sorry," Scarlett said, voice brittle. She looked at Angelo. "I...I didn't believe you at first. I didn't believe androids would kill humans on sight like this."

Angelo kept glaring. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it, then closed it again. Indecision. Or confusion. He hadn't expected her to apologize. That was out of her character as far as he'd seen. But she was a human, an endless spectrum of emotions and reactions. Perhaps he'd never had to deal with unpredictable behavior like that. Perhaps he was too used to androids and their linear personalities.

With a shove, he let go of her, then walked my way. I thought it was my turn to get berated, but he just offered his hand. I took it. He helped me to my feet.

"You okay?" Angelo asked.

I nodded. "Is Yaseen okay? Dude got stabbed with a spear."

"Yaseen got what?"

All of us whipped around and stared at Irene; she was running towards us, skipping on her toes, holding up her skirt so that it barely rose above the ground, and yet she seemed fully in control. I didn't know how she did that. In her place, I'd have tripped three times already.

Irene stopped beside Yaseen, setting a hand on his chest, by the wound. "My equipment...Back at my place, I'll fix you there. Let's go."

There was no time to argue; she held Yaseen's wrist and guided him along, passing by Angelo, who gave her a weird look. She ignored him. Then, Angelo turned towards us and said, "Come on."

Scarlett stood beside me. Angelo gave us a push, and we finally moved.

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This time we didn't have to climb Irene's fence. She opened the front gate, and all of us slipped through. The injured and the medic entered first and fast. Scarlett, Angelo, and I stood still outside. Angelo must've understood.

"The amount of questions..." I mumbled.

Angelo sighed. "Yeah, yeah."

"How did you do that?" Scarlett asked, pointing at her wound. By now, her red blood had returned, just like mine. "How is that even possible?"

"The knife I used," Angelo said as he retrieved it from his scabbard, "I smeared a cream on its edge. It makes anything liquid turn into black. Irene made it out of a flower, but I don't know how."

Unlike Scarlett, my main question hadn't been how—it'd been why. Why did he have such a cream? The answer could silence some suspicions (about a certain, constantly-mentioned somebody) in my head.

Angelo didn't look like he was about to explain any further, but this time, this question I couldn't stash aside in my brain. I needed an answer. Right now. So I said, "But why? The cream you used—it doesn't just turn liquids into black. It hides the fact that we're human. It hides our identity. Is that coincidence? I'm sure not. So my real question is..."

I knew Angelo was smart enough to connect the dots.

And he did. He sighed again, long and heavy. "I liked you better when you were quiet," he mumbled. That hurt. But I didn't care at that moment, so I just pinned him with a curious, pressing stare. "Listen, this cream, we used it mainly for...for Xander."

I frowned, even though I'd been starting to suspect that.

"Wait," Scarlett said, voice even but I heard the undertone of shock. "You used it for Xander? So you used it to...hide his blood. To hide that he's human? But that's not possible." Scarlett shook her head vehemently, and she gave me brief look, as if expecting backup. I didn't offer any. "We're the only humans alive, Jake and I. Xander can't be a human."

"You are the only humans alive," Angelo said. "Xander's dead."