I only had problems with one of my events.
I loved survival because it came naturally to me and allowed me to spend time out doors. The wilderness had been my home for many years, so I found that I knew intuitively many of the concepts that were key to survival. The things that I didn't know I learned from watching survival videos, which were interesting in that they showed many climates and areas that I had never seen. The differences in climate and foliage on one planet intrigued me.
A barely needed to study in the gun section. One of my jobs while with the mercenaries was to clean and repair all of their weapons, and since they were most active in the night I was often nearly blind while doing it. According to Master I would receive a box of weapons every week, which I would have to be able to name, describe, disassemble, and reassemble blindfolded by the end of the week. I had only mastered six weapons so far, but none of the guns so far were new to me. Honestly, I doubted that I would see any completely new weapons.
Even the dance competition, which I was at first hesitant about, was not terrible. Wufei gave me lessons in the basics of dance, and again I used videos to teach me the rest. It wasn't all that different from the acrobatics I had done in the circus. And the moves were very similar in style to my acrobatics as well. In all honesty, I enjoyed having the chance to stretch myself and work my body again. The feel of the music flowing through me, bending my body as it would, was something I had missed.
The only class that Master seemed to have made an error in was music. I liked music, and the idea of singing wasn't intolerable to me, but every time I opened my mouth only the tiniest of sounds came out. My music instructor was an old man with a pinched face and a lack of patience. But no matter how much he yelled at me, I could never raise my voice higher than normal speech. And the more he yelled, the harder it was for me to speak at all, and the quieter my voice got.
Perhaps the biggest reason I worried about failing in this event was that since Master had gotten me home, since he had made my purchase honestly, he had never once initiated sexual contact with me. I wondered if, despite what Master had seemed like on our first night, he had actually been disgusted with me. He never seemed offended by any part of me and he never asked me to change anything, so I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me, but I was almost certain that there had to be something. I hadn't been trained as a Collar slave and Master had only given me any events because he was short on time and low on slaves. If I didn't show my worth this year I was almost certain that he would get a better trained slave by next year and I would return to being a bed slave. But what good is a bed slave who cannot stir his master's blood? It was a long way off, but the fear of being sold preyed heavily on me, so content was I with my present life. I had tasted the world's cruelty, and I couldn't bare to think of having it again.
I tried to talk with Quatre about it, but it was difficult because he was, as Duo put it, "grounded." We still had some time together, but I was very shy, even around him, so it took me a long time to work up the courage to even speak with him. It was hard for me to initiate or lead a conversation, so most of the time I simply let Quatre lead, because he was very good at it. It took me three days to broach the subject with Quatre, and when I did he was reluctant to speak about it. Eventually he admitted that he had never been with Master Zechs and that he, too, worried about being sold, but I quickly assured him that I doubted he would be. Quatre was extremely beautiful, an eloquent speaker, and a decent Collar slave. He was making great progress in all of his events. Master would have to be crazy to get rid of such a talented slave. And if Master had intended Quatre for Collar even when he initially bought him, then it wasn't all that odd that he did not sleep with him. Many masters abstained from distracting their slaves from their events with sex, so it wasn't odd for a Collar slave to be celibate.
But a Master always had some slaves who were not Collar slaves to satisfy their pleasures. I knew Quatre wasn't sleeping with Master. I doubted Wufei had allowed him to get that close. I knew Master and Duo couldn't stand each other. And I was well aware that Heero had been trained primarily as a Collar slave. So the optimum choice of a bed partner was me. So why hadn't Master taken me? Why did he keep Wufei in his bed? Were they having sex? Or did Master merely keep Wufei close to make sure he didn't try to escape? Could he perhaps be taking Heero? But Heero had a large number of physical events, which intercourse would interfere with. I had only one physical task, so why hadn't I been called to Master's bed?
These questions preyed on my mind as the week progressed, and I began to find myself gravitating toward shadows more and more. The need to become invisible began to take hold, and my music lessons became harder and harder. By Friday I could barely make a noise and my teacher got up half way through the lesson and walked out. I remained there the full length of our time, looking out the window and wondering how soon I would be sent away.
That night, Master asked me to meet him in his study after dinner. I nodded hollowly, a great lethargy settling over my body. It was like something had drained all the energy from my body. I was colorless and mute even as Quatre and Duo tried to speak with me during dinner. I felt Master's eyes on my face more than once, but I wouldn't look up. I couldn't stand to see recrimination in those eyes, so I watched my food with a morbid intensity all through dinner. When it was over, I took more time than necessary to wash the dishes, then trudged down the hall as if my shoes were glued to the floor. But eventually I reached my destination anyway.
Master was at his desk working on papers when I entered. He seemed deep in thought, and I stood in the doorway for several minutes before he noticed me. When he did, he smiled softly and put down his pen, dropping everything to pay attention to me. I suddenly felt unworthy.
"Trowa, don't stand in the doorway. Come in and sit down," he told me, but there was nothing recriminating in his tone. Still, again I felt I had done the wrong thing, and I could not lift my eyes to him as I closed the door and sat down on the couch across from him.
"You know why you're here," Master stated. It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway.
"I have not been performing well in my music lessons," I replied in monotone, not revealing any of the emotions that were warring inside me. I could barely manage to face them myself.
"You haven't been performing at all," Master said, but again it was not accusatory, merely stating a fact. "You're music instructor says you can barely manage to speak above a whisper, and he had advised me to have a physician examine you, but Sally has already assured me that there is nothing wrong with your voice. And there have been certain other time in which you were very loud indeed," Master said, his tone implying that he was talking about intercourse. "So why is it that you so suddenly cannot speak?"
It was hard to breathe as he looked at me, hard to move as I felt his eyes on me , watching me, waiting for weakness. I slipped off the couch and onto my knees, putting my head against the floor, trying to hide from those eyes nearly as much as I was trying to show my submission.
"I'm sorry, master," I whispered. "I think you should take me off of the music event. I could do everyone's chores to make up for it. I could... I co-... I'm sorry," I finished lamely, my voice deserting me under the power of my fear.
I heard Master move, but I didn't dare to raise my head. I tensed, afraid of a beating, but my mind was afraid of not getting one. At least if he beat me he would make me try again. My greatest fear was the sound of the door opening, and his footsteps fading into the distance. Then I would know for sure that I was condemned.
Neither happened. I heard Master rise, but he settled next to me in the next moment, turning me to my side, pillowing my head on his lap. I kept my eyes securely closed, still trying to hide, but I couldn't ignore the feel of Master's lips on my forehead. I opened by eyes, but there was none of the cold, unfeeling anger I had expected. There was only Master, who had taken me from Hell with the Duke and brought me here, to paradise.
"I don't know," I admitted brokenly as Master stroked my hair. "I don't know why I can't speak in front of the teacher. I can't bare his eyes on me. When people look at me, I get hurt. Please, give me a different event."
"I would, but you're a victim of your own talent," Master replied. "Even your tutor admits that you have an amazing voice, if only you would use it more. I've never heard him pay a false compliment, Trowa, and if he's not ready to give up neither am I. We just need to find away around your fear."
"It's impossible," I sighed. We've already tried putting up a blind so that no one is looking at me, but it's no use. I just can't sing if someone is listening."
"That would be useless anyway," Master admitted, "because you'll be singing live in front of an audience at Collar. No, we need to get you over this fear. Perhaps..." Master trailed, and I could see he was deep in thought. In a moment he shook himself out of it and turned to me, smiling. "You can run along, then. Relax for the weekend and we'll see what we can do about your problem on Monday," he said, getting up and helping me to my feet. "Oh, and tell Duo not to stay up to late. He, Wufei, and Heero are going shopping with Sally tomorrow. They'll need all the energy they can get," he said, turning back to his papers. I nodded, though he didn't glance at me, and left. The feeling of impending doom was not completely gone, but it had been pushed further off. Whatever would happen, I had at least gained a two day reprieve.