Fen gladly started eating his dinner. "Mmph," he said, his mouth muffled with food. He swallowed, "It's good," he said, "Really good. I haven't tasted food this good in years,"
"Yeah? How many years?" Ea hadn't expected this positive a reaction towards her cooking. She liked her cooking, of course, but she didn't think others would. Then again, she was feeding a boy off the streets. Naturally, he would think it was good. "Five," the boy answered, "Five. Five years," he started talking to himself, but loud enough that Ea could hear, "Five long years. One year times five. Four seasons times five. Twelve months times five. Fifty-two-point-three weeks times five. Three hundred and sixty five days times five," Ea could see the boy swallow his food, his soon to be Adam's apple moving up and down. "Bravo, Fen," she said, pretending to clap, "You've displayed that you aren't that stupid after all. But, you're still pretty stupid," she chewed her food thoughtfully, "Now, can you calculate the hours? How about the minutes? If you can do the seconds for me, then I'll boost your smartness level from 'stupid' to 'slightly below average,'" The boy was silent for some moments, then put his head on the table. "Does your brain hurt now?" Ea asked, "Whatever brain you may have, that is. I'm surprised you didn't land your head right into your dinner," When the boy didn't respond, Ea continued eating.
Fen wanted to laugh at Ea's comments. He wanted to laugh the memories away. But something was stuck in his throat. He thought it might be the tofu, or the porridge, but no matter how many times he swallowed, it wouldn't go away. His head hurt. It didn't just hurt, it throbbed and pounded. Images flashed in and out of his mind, his scars starting flaring up, and Fen clenched his fists and set his jaw. He wasn't going to cry. Not now, not in front of this girl, in front of Ea. Five birthdays, five Christmases, five New Year's and five New Years' Eves. The back of his neck started throbbing. There were five people in his family. Five. Mom, Dad, Yanna, Fen and Sei'yu. That was before. Now, there were only two. Yanna and Fen. And he didn't even know about Yanna anymore. Was Yanna okay? Was she still alive? Here he was, eating a nice, home-cooked dinner, and Yanna, for all he knew, could be starving and suffering. Was it right to be doing well when someone you loved could be suffering? She had been a pretty girl, Yanna. Everyone had said that. What if one of the prison guards, or more than one, thought that too, and…and… Another memory flashed up, a happy one. And as Fen remembered the happy times, when it was all five, the tears starting dripping down his cheeks, one by one onto the floor.