I sat up, setting the tablet aside.
"Kimiko," I said softly.
She turned to look at me, her eyes bright. She pointed at the TV, grinning.
"I know," I smiled. "It's funny."
I turned my body towards her. "Give me your hand."
She hesitated for a second, her smile fading slightly. She looked at my hand, then at my face, searching for intent. Finding nothing but calm, she reached out and placed her hand in mine. Her palm was warm.
I activated Biokinesis (Tier 1).
I could feel her biology. I could sense the rush of blood through her veins, the density of her Super human muscles, the rapid fire firing of her synapses.
I traced the pathways of her nervous system, following them up her arm, through her spine and into the complex architecture of her throat and brain.
I confirmed what I already suspected. There was no scar tissue blocking her speech. There was no severed nerve. The block was entirely psychosomatic. A mental dam holding back the river.
"I never told you about all of my powers, did I?" I asked, keeping my voice conversational.
She shook her head, watching me curiously.
"You know I have the power of ice," I said.
I held up my free hand. I focused on the moisture in the air above my palm. A perfect snowflake formed, spinning gently.
She nodded. She remembered the snowflake from the gym.
"Ice is not just for freezing," I lied smoothly. "In the right hands, cold can be used to heal. It can reduce inflammation, reset nerves, calm the body so it can repair itself. It's a very... delicate process."
I looked her in the eye. "I think... I think I can fix your voice."
She pulled her hand back slightly, a reflex of fear and hope.
"Will you let me try?" I asked. "It won't hurt. I promise."
She stared at me. I could see the war in her eyes.
Slowly, very slowly, she nodded.
"Okay," I said. "Come here."
She scooted closer on the sofa until she was sitting right in front of me.
"Close your eyes," I whispered. "Focus on your breathing."
She closed her eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks. She was trembling slightly.
I reached out and placed my hand gently on her throat. My thumb rested lightly against her larynx.
I activated Cryokinesis. I lowered the temperature of my skin just enough to be noticeable. A cool wave of cold radiated from my hand into her neck. It was calming like an ice pack on a fever.
Then, Biokinesis. I reached into her biology. I stimulated the nerves surrounding her vocal cords. I sent a gentle cascade of bio electric signals, creating a tingling sensation deep inside her throat. A feeling of blood flow increasing, of muscles waking up, of energy returning to a dormant place.
"Feel that?" I whispered. "That's the cold working. It's reconnecting the pathways."
She nodded, a tiny movement under my hand. She felt it. The physical sensation validated the lie.
I held the connection for a minute, letting the sensation build, letting her belief solidify.
"There," I said softly. "The connection is reformed."
I slowly withdrew my hand. The cool sensation lingered on her skin.
"Open your eyes."
She opened them. They were wet with unshed tears and wide with anticipation. She touched her throat, her fingers tracing the spot where my hand had been.
"It is healed," I said, projecting absolute confidence. "You can speak now."
She opened her mouth. She tried to force air through her vocal cords. Her lips moved. Her throat worked.
But nothing came out. Just a rush of breath.
She tried again, straining. Her face crumpled. A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. She shook her head, looking down, shame and devastation radiating off her.
"Hey," I said gently, reaching out and lifting her chin so she had to look at me. "Don't panic. It's still weak. It's like a muscle you haven't used in years. You have to teach it how to work again."
I smiled at her. "Start small. Just... make a sound. Any sound."
She looked at me, doubt clouding her eyes.
"Like a baby," I teased. "Small noise. Go on."
She took a shaky breath. She closed her eyes again. She concentrated.
"Hhh..."
It was a rough rasp. But it was a sound.
She opened her eyes, surprised.
"See?" I said. "It's there. Again."
She took a deeper breath. She pushed from her diaphragm.
"Aaah..."
It was cracked and dry, but it was unmistakably a vocalization.
"Good," I encouraged. "Again."
"Ahhhh…"
It was louder this time.
She laughed. It was a startled sound that bubbled up from her chest.
"Heh."
"You're doing it," I laughed with her.
She touched her throat again, feeling the vibration. She looked at me, a dazzling smile breaking through the tears. She made the sound again, just to prove she could.
"Ah."
"Ah."
"Okay," I said. "Now, let's try a word. Something simple."
I pointed to myself.
"Say my name."
She watched my lips. She took a breath.
"Aa..."
She stopped, frustrated.
"Slowly," I said. "Ar-yan."
She concentrated, her brow furrowing. She formed the shape with her mouth.
"Ar... yan."
It was whispery. But it was my name.
"Yes!" I cheered, clapping my hands together softly. "Perfect. Aryan."
She beamed.
"Ar-yan," she repeated, the word stronger this time.
"Okay, now the important part," I said, grinning. "Repeat after me. Aryan... is... the... best."
She blinked. She understood the words. She understood the English I had been teaching her. She rolled her eyes, her smile turning into a smirk.
Ar-yan... she rasped.
"Is..." I prompted.
Is...
"The..."
The...
"Best."
She paused. She looked at me, her eyes dancing with mischief. She took a deep breath.
"Aryan... is... idiot."
I burst out laughing. It was a belly laugh that echoed in the penthouse. She joined in, her laughter a raspy sound that filled the room.
"Okay, okay," I said, wiping a tear from my eye. "But seriously. Try it. Aryan is handsome."
She giggled. "No."
"Come on," I pleaded mockingly. "For my ego. Just once."
She took a breath, composing herself. She looked at me, her expression softening.
"Aryan..." she said, her voice growing steadier with every syllable. "Is..."
She paused, searching for the word in her new vocabulary.
"Hand... some."
"There it is!" I said. "See? The ice doesn't lie."
She laughed again.
"Handsome," she repeated, testing the word. "Handsome."
We spent the next hour like that, playing with words like new toys.
We went through the names of the food we had eaten.
Fish.
Rice.
Apple.
We went through the things in the room.
Table.
Window.
Sky.
Her voice was hoarse and her accent was thick, but she was speaking.
Finally, her voice started to give out, her throat sore from the exertion.
"Rest now," I said, handing her a glass of water. "Don't overdo it. The healing needs time to set."
She took the water and drank greedily. She set the glass down and looked at me.
She reached out and took my hand. She squeezed it hard.
She looked at me, her dark eyes searching mine. Then, she moved forward, closing the space between us until her lips met mine.
I was surprised, my pulse quickening, but I immediately responded, pulling her closer and wrapping my arms around her.
She leaned into the embrace, her hands sliding up to grip the fabric of my t-shirt. After a while, she pulled back, breathless, our foreheads resting against each other as we both struggled to regulate our breathing.
"Thank... you," she whispered.
PS: Hey guys, come on, let's see if we can unlock another chapter before Sunday night, haha. Don't let the week end like this. Hahaha