Michael returned the next day, as promised. She was dressed in what had been given to her. Had her hair in a bun so he couldn't pull it again. And she was just nearly awake.

"Why so early? I didn't wake up until eight for my other trainer," Nikita said. Not in a whiny voice. Or an angry one. Just...curious.

He looked over his shoulder with a glare. "I'm not your other trainer," was all he replied as he led them to their next point.

Obviously, he wasn't very cheerful today either. Maybe he just wasn't a morning person. Well, that was okay. Neither was she.

He led her to a place with cushioned walls of white and a soft floor. Inside, there were people punching, jabbing, kicking. All sweating profusely.

The only thought that suddenly clouded her mind was how tired she still was. Maybe this was all a dream?

But once she was inside, barefoot and staring at her new mentor, who just threw a kick towards her stomach with hard impact, she knew it wasn't.

"Show me how you defend yourself," he demanded, his voice whispery.

What was wrong with him? Did he ever speak up? They were fighting, for God's sake, and he acting like he was talking like he was rocking a baby to sleep! Though, it was hard to picture him ever holding a baby. He seemed too closed off for that.

He threw a punch at her, towards her face. She dodged her head out of the way, but he still grazed her ear, making it red and pound.

"You're under attack. I'm trying to kill you. If that's the best you can do, you'd be dead. Act like I'm your death threat."

Her acting skills didn't need to be very good. A combination of kicks and punches came her way, terrifying her with his intensity. Like he didn't care if he really did kill her. She dodged and backed up and ran away until he cornered her. Damn, she should have seen that coming.

At least she saw his fist, headed for her face again.

Her fury summoned, she realized she was quickly growing tired of this game. So he wanted her mean and violent? That she could do.

She moved her head away, grabbed his arm and sank her teeth in to his hard, muscled flesh. It didn't work, for his other fist landed against the side of her head, right above her ear.

Ouch, that hurt! Now she really was angry. With her foot stuck out, she started kicking him anywhere she thought would affect him.

He blocked each one. She hadn't even scraped him once.

Her eyes were wide, her chest rising and falling hard. What was wrong with this man? Was he part machine? She had heard of a movie like that once upon a time, but she didn't think it was real. Of course, she didn't think such a place like this existed either.

"Why can't I hurt you?" she asked with exasperation.

He backed up a foot or two, taking a deep breath. "For someone who lived on the streets, you're not very good at this. It's a wonder you managed to survive."

The streets. It was a touche subject for her. Or rather, why she was on the streets. She had to survive. She hadn't a choice.

Before she knew what she was doing, she arm went from her side to straight out in front of her, reaching impact. The next she knew, she was lying flat on the floor.

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Arms crossed tightly across her chest, Nikita sat in the middle of her bed and fumed. Michael had been disappointed in her. No, more than that. He thought her pathetic. It was the one thing she could see marked in his eyes. He had sent her back to her room, as if she was worthless. Like he shouldn't even waste his time.

Now what? He had stood over her, from her spot flat on the floor, and told her to go back. He hadn't even taken her - he had let someone else show the way.

But why should this affect her? She wasn't trying to gain approval of anyone here. She just wanted out. She didn't care that Michael had first told her that it was do or die, no escape. Eventually, she'd find a way. And then any bonding she mind have tried to do here would have been silly.

Not to mention, why care if this man liked her or not? He had hurt her. Rubbing her ear, she groaned softly. This was stupid. This whole ordeal. She belonged elsewhere. Not that she really knew precisely where, but it wasn't...here.

"Defense comes first. Then attack."

She nearly jumped out of her skin, startled as she was. Spinning around, she saw Michael standing in the doorway. She hadn't heard him come in. Or the door open.

This man was starting to freak her out.

"What?" Nikita asked, her brow wrinkling.

"You'll learn defense first," he repeated patiently. "Then attack maneuvers. You have a great deal to learn. I'll need your cooperation. You must learn to obey my will and not doubt or argue back. Is that understood?"

"Sounds like you think I'm a dog," she replied with a frown, her arms crossing at her chest.

"You'll be what I want you to be. That's how you survive."

His manner was not rushed, as if he had all the time in the world. He seemed more relaxed now, than he had been earlier and yesterday. As if he was trying to work with her. To take the time.

It didn't mean she was happy about it. Why couldn't these people just leave her alone? Even in jail, she mainly had an easy time. Lounging about on her bed, staring at the ceiling...besides the occasional creep, it wasn't too bad.

Not that she'd want to go back anytime soon. But she wouldn't jump to call this place an improvement.

"Is that it? Learn to fight? How to kill? That's all I have to do?"

He shook his head, ever so slightly. He never did much motion unless it was needed. She found that quite interesting, especially since she was wobbly-limbed and very clumsy. Accident-prone, even.

"No, you'll be training in how to live properly. To eat. Dress. Walk. Most of those things will be handled by Madeline."

Nikita shuddered. She had met Madeline already. That warm smile that never reached her eyes was frightening. There was no breaking through that cold exterior. Looking over to Michael, she saw a resemblance. Was that how everyone was here? Would that be what they would try to turn her in to? A cold, hard, ruthless person?

"I didn't kill that cop," she said suddenly. "It's not true. I didn't do it."

If it was possible, she just witnessed his eyes get colder, more distant. He remained silent, just staring at her, unnerving her.

"There...there was this other man. He saw that I had witnessed what he'd done and he attacked me...he ran away-"

"Enough." It was a harsh growl of a word that slammed her in to silence. He walked towards her, so that now, from her spot, he towered over her. "You will stop saying that. It's a lie. You know it is, I know it is. I don't listen to lies. And you won't tell them."

Her mouth fell open. Why didn't anyone believe her? It was a perfectly believable story - especially since it really had happened! Why was this happening? "It's not a lie!" she shouted back at him, her eyes stinging.

Oh no, she hated crying. She hated showing weakness. But it seemed that whenever she got upset at all, those tears would run for release. "It's not a lie. I didn't do it. I don't belong here. I don't belong here!"

He grabbed her arms, pulling her up from her cross legged position. Now she was kneeling, with his hands gripping her hard. "I told you that's a lie. And no matter what you think now, you want it to be a lie. You want that not to be truth. What you're not understanding is that here, it's better to be the guilty. It's better to be a killer. Do you know why?"

She didn't. What was wrong with the truth? She may have been here for little over a week, but still nothing made sense to her eyes.

"Because Ni-kita, no one here is innocent. No one. That's not a coincidence. Innocents die. They're cancelled. Do you know what happens when someone is cancelled? It means they're stabbed to a metal chair, then shot in the head, or the heart, or poisoned. You're not innocent. You're guilty. You killed that cop, with that knife. You did it out of cold blood. Out of hate. Without a conscious. You did it, because you want to survive. The sooner your survival instincts kick in, the better. Until then, you'll listen to every word I say and act accordingly. Because if you don't..."

His sentence hung heavy in the air. There was no need to finish it. She understood. Michael never said anything more than necessary.

When he let her go, she flexed her shoulders and neck. Now, more than ever, she felt like she was caged in. Trapped. The room was depleting of oxygen. She couldn't breath.

When Michael left, locking the door behind him, she allowed her tears to flow and her heart to harden.

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"Hey Sugar, come over here a minute, will you?"

Nikita stopped in her tracks, looking around. Had the old Munitions guy just call her Sugar?

"Me?" she asked, pointing to her chest.

His gaze lingered at the spot she had pointed at for a few moments with a dirty grin before nodding. "Yeah, come over here."

She hadn't any idea why he'd be calling her, but at least he didn't seem dangerous. And in this place, she was starting to realize that a person not seeming scary was rare. Besides, she still had a few minutes before Michael came back to take her to her room, like a child. "Yes?" she asked, approaching the table he stood next to.

"It's been rumored that you were assigned to a trainer. Michael. Is that true?"

She nodded. "It is."

A low groan escaped from his throat as he shook his head. "Not good. Not good at all."

She tilted her head, awaiting for him to continue. "What's wrong with that?"

"Well...nothing too bad. It's just...I'm sure you've noticed that he's often...cold. Distant. People around here don't talk to him unless they absolutely have to. He's not the...well, the most friendliest person. Or the most compassionate. He's not one to go for sympathy. So don't try. He often wears a scowl when he's not looking completely blank. The most unreadable man you've ever met-"

"You said nothing too bad. This seems pretty bad..." Nikita interrupted.

Walter shrugged. "Sorry, got a little carried away."

Nikita looked around at the Munitions department, lost in thought. "...So you're warning me? Then what do I do?"

"What he says. Only what he says. Nothing more, nothing less. Don't try to impress him - he won't be. He's the future of Section - no recruit will impress him."

"The future of Section? What does that mean?"

"It means that Oversight and Operations have favored him for years. It's no real secret that they're going to pursue his career here. He'll end up being Operations, if not more. So know, that while you're training with him, you're training with the best. You're getting the best training possible. It'll make you good - if you can survive it. He's tough and he won't relent on you. He don't care about weaknesses. Do your job, get it done. Don't mess up. He's not fond of mistakes."

"That I have noticed. But what is he fond of?"

Walter thought a moment, then chuckled. "Good question."

She blew a bubble with her gum until it popped. She relished in the flavor. When she had been walking among the halls, she saw a door open to another recruit's room. They had two packs of gum. It had been too tempting to resist swiping one while Michael was unlocking her door. "Yeah...don't do that around him either."

Nikita looked at him, exasperated. "What is wrong with this man that he's so mean? Why can't he just...lighten up?"

Walter met her gaze. "I fear that with your personality, you'll find out soon enough."

She didn't know what that meant or how to take it, so she just moved on. "So do you do this for all his trainees?"

"No. He never had one before. Not one he did full time."

"And so I have to follow each of these Section rules?"

"These aren't Section rules, Sugar. There's many more of those. These are just a few laws that were laid down by one man that happens to be your trainer. These are just a few...rules of Michael. You'll learn them quick enough once you're with him for a while. He's not hard to understand as much as it is to make him smile." Walter laughed at his own joke, but it wasn't a joyous laugh. "It's impossible to make that man smile. One too many hard times have fallen upon him. Happiness to him is a lost cause."

Silence fell for a while. Walter seemed busy in his own mind and Nikita hadn't a clue what he was talking about. She wasn't even sure she wanted to.

"So..." She finally whispered, wondering if this was her cue to walk away.

"So follow the rules. Stay alive. It's all the advice you need," were his last words before walking in the back room.

Follow the rules, stay alive. That seemed simple enough.

With a grin, knowing she'd learn to like this man very much if she saw him again, she blew another bubble and walked out, looking among all the busy people, walking to and fro.

Then her gaze fell on the computer nerd in Systems. Her eyes reduced to slits. She wasn't very fond of him.

What was his name? Birkoff? For someone that was around her age, he sure was uptight and serious. And he didn't even like bubble gum. What teenager didn't like bubblegum?

Then again, what teenager was so boring? He just went on and on, droning about something with computer access. He sure did take his geek machine seriously. But why did she have to? Not everyone was a glasses-clad, chained-to-computers kid.

Michael had called it a 'lesson'. She called it a total bore. Even her white cell of a room was more entertaining than that. Why'd she have to learn anything on a computer? Michael told her fighting. And normal, every day stuff that 'normal' people do. Hacking in to computers and accessing files wasn't normal! Surely wouldn't kill anyone either.

She had been here for three weeks now. Didn't this place get any more exciting? It could use a few classes in the 'normal' department itself. She was just fine.

"Nikita?"

Michael had arrived to assist her to her room.

She held out her hand. "If you keep treating me like a baby, don't you want to hold my hand in case I wander off?" she mocked, feeling the strain of the day wear down on her.

The old man in Munitions had warned her of the rules. Maybe she'd start following them when he decided to give her an inch of freedom and space. She already had people, perhaps even Birkoff himself, that were monitering her getting dressed. Sleeping. Eating.

"Stalkers," she whispered.

"You have to be assisted back and forth so you don't go places you're not authorized to go yet."

"And where's that?"

"Anywhere other than the gym, Madeline's office, the cafateria, and your room."

She frowned and looked at him in the rebellion that she could feel rising in her chest. "That's stupid. I'm forced to stay here and follow these rules and do whatever you want - but I can't even walk around?"

"It doesn't matter if you think it's stupid. Section doesn't care if things are fair or not. We have better things to worry over."

He left it at that, leading the way to her room. She fell in line behind him, taking a last look around before all she could see was white.

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