ii

Impossible. It's impossible. It doesn't make sense. ~I~ was Adrian. He can't be. How many Adrians with brothers named Neil can there be? I don't know what's going on, but I don't trust it. My mind flies over possibilities. After a while, I realize that there are only two possible and logical choices. And since the Matrix is based on logic, they are the only ones it could be.

The first is that this version of the Matrix is a repeat of the one in which One and I were Neil and Adrian. In that case, there would have probably been a very close or exact repeat of the lives we lived going on right now, except (obviously) myself and my brother were replaced by others.

The other is that this Adrian is a result of whatever programming Thompson fixed in me not to long ago. I, at first, though that he was deleted, but I suppose it would be possible for him to be recreated again as himself, and not as me.

My mind focused on these two choices, I exit the locker room and reenter the mat where One is growling at the white belts.

"It's your left foot, not your right that you step with," He says to one of them, "And your hands come up like this," He brings his hands up to proper position, "when you turn into the block. And punch the same time you kick."

He corrects each of them as a loud THUD on the mat brings me back to reality again. A blond-haired boy is on the ground, being thrown by one of the other students (a girl) in one of the waza.

"Your waza is incorrect," I comment curtly, walking over, "You have to straighten your leg when you toss him."

"Oh, sorry, Sensei."

I draw up an image of Adrian and compare to the boy. It is a splitting resemblance…..they are identical.

"Sensei Jason wants to talk with you after class," One tells Adrian as he corrects the boy's moves.

Fortunately, class flies by after that. The corrections are easy things for One and I, and it takes little effort before we are called back to the front mat. Raikan tells us to stand next to her, and she immediately sees the worry in my eyes, and responds with pity. I whisper into her ear, "The boy, Adrian….who is he?"

She shrugs, "Class, LINE UP!"

They form into the lines they were in the beginning of the class, "How did they do, Senseis?" She asks us, "Did they treat you with respect?"

"They did, Sensei," One responds, "And they learned quite a lot," He lies through his teeth. They learned little, as all corrections were stupid little things.

"Good to hear," Raikan responds. She dismisses them, and looked at me with a raised eyebrow before walking out after them. Adrian stays behind, watching me suspiciously.

"Adrian….this may sound odd….." I begin, "Do you like silver?"

"Favorite color. Are you sure you don't know me before this? I mean you know all this stuff about me, it's kind of insane."

"Do you like knives?"

He grins, "Yeah. Switchblades kick ass."

"Very well, you are dismissed," I tell him with a wave of my hand as he walks out. 

"What was that all about?"

"Remember what you saw in our mind…the parts that seemed like not even we had touched?"

"Yes."

I open my mouth to explain, but it seems like it would impossible to put it into words, "Touch them."

He nods  and enters my head again, feeling his way through my memories until he gets to the flashbacks, still closed. He touches them, and again I feel that pull in my head as I feel warped back to somewhere else.