DAY FOUR, WORD FOUR: RIVALRY


What do I like? Murder mysteries. They're sick.

Um, sorry, no pun intended.

But yeah; I love murder mysteries. That's probably why I enjoy watching Bones (the characters are awesome too, adding flavor to the crime fighting and all) and other things from Netflix that involve how someone was killed and who had done the deed. The psychological reasoning behind it intrigues me; who on earth would want to kill their own kind for something as stupid as money? I think if I was smart enough, I would want to go into something like that, get into the minds of murders and serial killers alike.

I'm an idiot, though, so I'll have to be satisfied with watching whatever I could find.

But what was I doing on a perfectly good Saturday morning?

On my bike. Again.

My knee had healed somewhat; turns out that stupidity makes wounds heal faster, or at least helps you get over the initial pain.

You gotta love pizza.

I rode from the opposite side of the neighborhood this time, an area I didn't get to cover after yesterday's fanatics. The houses were a little bit bigger, and the families were a little livelier. Time to time bunches of kids no doubt related to each other would stop their basketball game in the middle of the street to let me through.

"I still don't find anything, Garuru," I spoke to my phone. "Really; just riding around like this makes it feel like I'm chasing a beheaded goose or something."

"Isn't the Pekopon phrase 'leading a wild goose chase'?"

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. I'm-Not-From-This-Planet."

"…Familiarity…"

"I'm sorry."

He sighed. "Like I've been saying; just keep an eye out. When it comes the day that the air isn't so dry I shall accompany you."

"That's a deal," I said, stopping my bike. "Okay, I need to let you go now. Call me if you need to tell me anything else."

He hung up.

I rolled my eyes slightly. Having an alien in your room isn't as exciting as the movies make it out to be; especially if they're grumpy and always serious. Then again, I tend to get a bit temperamental too when I'm bored or lonely. Maybe that's it. I turned off my phone and slipped it to my back pocket.

Yay, I missed.

With a sickening crack, my phone crashed into three different plastic pieces and sprinkled the ground with their misery. I groaned and pulled my bicycle to a complete stop, squeezing the handle bars for support as I leaned to the side to get off.

"Great," I mumbled, setting the bike on the sidewalk.

"You need help?"

"Huh?" I looked over my shoulder and reddened when I saw another girl leaning down to pick up the pieces of my phone. "No! It's fine, I got it, I got it!"

The girl jumped, startled at my reluctance to let her help me out. She had long, straight black hair and wide greenish-blue eyes, and a small mouth that had opened slightly in preparation to protest. "What? What's wrong?"

"N-nothing, I got it," I assured her, quickly taking the bits of phone from her. I inspected the screen and sighed, relieved that it wasn't cracked. "Okay."

I blushed even deeper when I realized she was staring at me. "W-what?"

"I've never seen you before," She told me, blinking. "Do you go to Houston?"

"N-no. I don't."

"Oh. Then… where do you go?"

"I work for the F.B.I., so I can't tell you."

She gave me a funny look, and I broke whatever nervousness I had with a smile. "I'm kidding. It's something that I say to everyone when they ask me where I go to school. I… can't tell anyone."

"Oh," She said mildly with a small laugh. "Okay. Well, anyway; I'm Ruby."

"Johnny," I introduced myself, remembering that I had forgotten to do that yesterday with the sisters. I held my hand out, which somewhat surprised her as she slowly accepted the token of greeting. "I'm Johnny."

"Cool." She gave me a sly look. "Is that your real name, or did the F.B.I. give you that name too?"

"Shh," I grinned. I returned my attention to the phone and began to piece it together, sticking the battery in and getting annoyed when it didn't fit."

"Here; let me try."

"No, no, I got it."

After playing with it a while, she finally took it from me. "I got it." She inserted the battery in and slapped on the back with a single snap of a finger. "There. See?"

"Thanks," I said, taking it. I stood up from my position and she stared at me as she repeated my gesture. "…What?"

"Um… I thought I was short."

I felt my face go aflame again. "N-no! I-I mean, yes, but…"

"How old are you?"

"I best be going," I said with a nervous laugh. "Y-yeah, I'm going now."

"Wait, I'm bored," She said with a small pout. "I have like no music to listen to right now; it's charging."

"I'm sorry," I said, backing away. "But I really ought to-"

"Race with me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"C'mon, please?" She begged. "Just one."

"I'm pretty fast," I said slowly. "But I'm not sure if you noticed my knee, so…"

"You don't have to run. Use your bike. Race with me."

I gave her a look, but I knew there was no use in objecting. I sighed. "Okay. Just one race."

"Yay!" She said cheerfully. "See that red stop sign?"

I squinted. "Sort of."

"Okay; there, and then back."

"How about just there?"

"Alright; works for me."

"Okay, one… two… three… go!"

I pedaled hard again, pumping my legs in quick, steady circles. On the other side of the street, I could see a blur of black and white and gray, a fusion of colors.

Wow, she's pretty fast.

Don't pay attention. I'll crash. And crashing is not fun.

I squeezed the handlebars as I headed toward the red stop sign. Unfortunately, I did it too soon. I stopped before I could reach it, before Ruby sped by me and slapped the red metal sign with a victory pump.

"Yes!" She said joyfully. "Ha! Beat ya!"

"You're really good," I said with a small grin. I refused to let it show that this race wounded my male ego. But hey, what could I do?

"Thanks," Ruby said cheerfully, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "You're pretty fast on that, for a little thing."

"I'm not little!" I shot back, though more playful than offended.

"I'm sorry," She laughed. "Okay, then; fun-sized."

I opened my mouth to complain, but instead let a thoughtful look mollify my features. "You know what? Yeah, I like that. Fun-sized; like M&Ms."

"Like M&Ms," She agreed. "So, till next time?"

"Till next time," I said with a nod.

"Yeah, definitely," She promised.

I rode away in my bike.


"Maybe it'll help if you tell me what exactly I'm looking for," I told him, whipping off the sheets from my bed that I had neglected to do that morning. "Like… what are your friends like?"

"Teammates."

"Teammates," I repeated, wondering why he preferred this term rather than the one I would use.

"Taruru is… interesting," Garuru said, again in deep contemplation. Each of the words had to be precise, it seemed. "As the second youngest member he has much potential, though he still displays much of a childish demeanor."

"Alright."

"Tororo is the youngest of the team, and it easily shows," He closed his eyes. "However, he is very, very intelligent. His obsession with wanting to… better himself and raise himself up is his weakness. Zoruru is stealthy, and extremely competent. It's just a shame that everyone seems to ignore his existence."

"Ignore his existence?"

"Yes."

"…Huh."

"And Pururu." Garuru paused. "Pururu… she's the latest addition to our team, but a valuable asset. She is our nurse, but she is also very competent when it comes to battle."

"You seem really fond of her."

"She was Giroro's friend as a child."

"Oh," I said, not quite expecting this. "So she's about his age?"

"Yes."

"How old are you guys anyway?"

Garuru shrugged. "I'm not sure how to convert it into Pekopon years. But I was an adolescent when Giroro was a child."

"So you guys were pretty distant age-wise," I said, thinking about it.

"Yes." Garuru mediated on this. "Perhaps a bit too far."

"Well," I plopped my pillows where they were supposed to and sat down. "We were all born pretty close; we actually all go to the same high school."

He nodded stiffly, lost in dreaded thought.

"So, is that all?"

"….Did I mention Zoruru?"

"Yes, you did."

"Then yes, that is all."

I sighed heavily and fell back against my bed. Geez. Four different aliens, possibly four different houses, and that's assuming if they're even near each other at all. What are the odds that I just actually passed by those houses? Slim. Really slim.

I wish those people who had those aliens at their home would at least come up and say hi. I mean, that isn't so hard, is it?

I sighed. Whatever. I find them or I don't. Or at least, if not now, later.

"Hey." I said, deciding that a change of subject was in order. "Do you like music?"

Garuru gazed over at me. "Music?"

"Yeah; it's this really nice sound-"

"I know what music is."

"Then, do you like it?"

Garuru hesitated. "It depends on what genre of music."

"Do you have a specific genre you like?"

He was very, very quiet. "…I'd rather not say."

"Okay, then," I looked at my phone and clicked to YouTube."There's a play list that I like listening to; maybe we both like something from here." I put my phone on the middle of my bed and put the speakers up. "I like this song. The guitar's really nice."

"Guitar?"

"It's an instrument. The one I have leaning against my wall there."

Garuru nodded.

"They painted up your secrets, and the lies they told to you…"

"Johnny!"

"U-uh…" I looked from the door to my phone, and said quickly, "I'll leave that here." and fled down the stairs to my mother's voice.

When I had come back to my room, Garuru was covering his face with one hand and… wait. Was he blushing?

Unless turning completely red in the face was normal or some other different reaction, but yeah. Garuru was blushing.

"What's wrong?" I asked, not sure whether or not to be worried.

He coughed and pointed at my phone, which was playing a completely different tune.

I don't pick the songs from these play lists; I just find someone who has my tastes and listen to whatever music they find (I'm lazy. Sue me).

"She does it like this, and you move it like that…. Shake, shake, shake…"

"Well, it isn't exactly my taste," I said, frowning as I folded my arms. "This person must've added this song recently. I don't remember-"

"You… do understand what that song is about-?"

I was completely clueless. "….Dancing?"

"Turn it off. Now."

"Why? It's kinda catch-"

"Don't make me shoot it."

"Turning it off."