spin_kick_snap (
spin_kick_snap) wrote2014-01-03 10:56 pm
Entry tags:
A small bakery in Koreatown, not even that far from home, Los Angeles, Friday afternoon
It had been a good Christmas break, filled with home and family and warmth. Look, she still wasn't a huge fan of winters back East, okay? As much fun as Fandom was, being back in L.A. for the holidays reminded her of how much she missed here. The sound of multiple languages rising up to her apartment. The way the scent of spices and Korean cooking lingered in the air. Looking out onto the streets and seeing people who, well, looked a lot like her.
Fandom was a fun school, but it was more than a little white. And that was before the snow fell.
Which was why Kathy had run to a bakery not that far from her family's apartment to stock up on treats she wouldn't be able to get back on the island. Her plane was leaving in a few hours, but she was all packed and ready to go--and it gave her a reason to duck out and avoid her mother fussing about her flying by herself, as if she hadn't done it twice now, already.
"Be careful!" her mother had warned, easily switching from one thing to worry about to another. "Watch out for the gangs! They're always looking for pretty girls like you! And it's already dark!"
Kathy had rolled her eyes at her younger sister, Sarah, as she'd shrugged into her jacket and opened the door. "I'll be fine, Mom," she'd called back. The bakery was only a few blocks away and the sun was still setting. It was hardly dark. "I'll be back in plenty of time, okay? Promise."
And she'd made good her escape, shutting the door on her mother's continued dire warnings, with nothing more in mind than thinking about how many manju she should buy--enough for herself and also to share with people back on the island, most of whom had probably never had a proper Korean pastry in their entire lives.
She never made it to the bakery.
She'd just turned down the corner of West 8th Street when four guys sidled out of a doorway behind her. "Hey, chica," one of them said. "Where you off to?"
Kathy whirled around, taking in their green bandannas and the SS tattoo that one guy was sporting on the side of his neck. The South Seventeens, one of the worst gangs this side of L.A. Really bad, not just her parents'pretty racist take on the subject. She gulped, suddenly wishing she'd listened to her mom. "T-to the bakery," she said softly, willing her voice not to quaver too much. "Just to the b-bakery. I should get there. I'm--I'm expected."
They laughed, not buying her excuse for a minute. Which, to be fair, was valid. It had been a pretty lousy excuse. "Oh, she's expected," Tattoo said, his grin darkly amused. "Well, we'd hate to keep you..." He stepped forward, hand outstretched for her.
Kathy didn't wait to see what he'd do if he grabbed her. She spun around and took off at a run. There was a sharp bite of pain in her scalp--he must have grabbed some hair when she's turned--and surprised hooting from the guys behind her before they gave chase. Whether it was that spark of pain or the knowledge that they were chasing her, Kathy didn't know, but something in her...changed. It was like a surge of adrenaline hit her and she was moving fast, faster than she'd ever thought possible. Fast like driving a car fast. Buildings past by in a blur. People on the street started to turn when they heard running footsteps behind them, but it was like they were moving in slow motion. She easily darted away from them, slipping past pedestrians with ease. At one point, there was a homeless guy passed out on the sidewalk in front of her and she just sort of vaulted over him. Not just a regular running leap but an actual vault, like the ground had turned into a springboard under her feet and she was going for the gold.
Noises of confusion, shouts of "Watch out!" and the yells of the Seventeens were left far behind as Kathy ran. It was only when she burst out onto South Western Avenue that she skidded to a halt, utterly confused. She hadn't been looking where she'd been going, true enough, but to end up here? That meant she'd run right past the bakery, which was pretty much whatever at this point, because the real kicker of the deal was that she'd run roughly a mile.
In a little over a minute.
And that was impossible.
Look, there were Olympic athletes who were trying to run a mile down a track in under three minutes. Three. There was no way that she, Katherine Hana Li, had run down a busy Los Angeles sidewalk in slightly over one. Even the Mighty Dragon couldn't do that--and he could fly!
Pulling out her cell, Kathy decided to call for a cab home. All that running had made her tired (regular tired, though, not omg-I-just-sprinted-a-mile-in-a-minute-I-should-be-collapsing-on-the-ground-exhausted tired) and she really didn't want to go back there. See the people she'd flown by. Or the Seventeens who might still be looking for her. Or the stupid bakery that had caused this whole mess in the first place.
Later that night, on the plane ride back to the island, Kathy couldn't help but think of that time in the common room when she'd nearly jumped to the ceiling.
What's happening to me?
[NFI, NFB]
Fandom was a fun school, but it was more than a little white. And that was before the snow fell.
Which was why Kathy had run to a bakery not that far from her family's apartment to stock up on treats she wouldn't be able to get back on the island. Her plane was leaving in a few hours, but she was all packed and ready to go--and it gave her a reason to duck out and avoid her mother fussing about her flying by herself, as if she hadn't done it twice now, already.
"Be careful!" her mother had warned, easily switching from one thing to worry about to another. "Watch out for the gangs! They're always looking for pretty girls like you! And it's already dark!"
Kathy had rolled her eyes at her younger sister, Sarah, as she'd shrugged into her jacket and opened the door. "I'll be fine, Mom," she'd called back. The bakery was only a few blocks away and the sun was still setting. It was hardly dark. "I'll be back in plenty of time, okay? Promise."
And she'd made good her escape, shutting the door on her mother's continued dire warnings, with nothing more in mind than thinking about how many manju she should buy--enough for herself and also to share with people back on the island, most of whom had probably never had a proper Korean pastry in their entire lives.
She never made it to the bakery.
She'd just turned down the corner of West 8th Street when four guys sidled out of a doorway behind her. "Hey, chica," one of them said. "Where you off to?"
Kathy whirled around, taking in their green bandannas and the SS tattoo that one guy was sporting on the side of his neck. The South Seventeens, one of the worst gangs this side of L.A. Really bad, not just her parents'
They laughed, not buying her excuse for a minute. Which, to be fair, was valid. It had been a pretty lousy excuse. "Oh, she's expected," Tattoo said, his grin darkly amused. "Well, we'd hate to keep you..." He stepped forward, hand outstretched for her.
Kathy didn't wait to see what he'd do if he grabbed her. She spun around and took off at a run. There was a sharp bite of pain in her scalp--he must have grabbed some hair when she's turned--and surprised hooting from the guys behind her before they gave chase. Whether it was that spark of pain or the knowledge that they were chasing her, Kathy didn't know, but something in her...changed. It was like a surge of adrenaline hit her and she was moving fast, faster than she'd ever thought possible. Fast like driving a car fast. Buildings past by in a blur. People on the street started to turn when they heard running footsteps behind them, but it was like they were moving in slow motion. She easily darted away from them, slipping past pedestrians with ease. At one point, there was a homeless guy passed out on the sidewalk in front of her and she just sort of vaulted over him. Not just a regular running leap but an actual vault, like the ground had turned into a springboard under her feet and she was going for the gold.
Noises of confusion, shouts of "Watch out!" and the yells of the Seventeens were left far behind as Kathy ran. It was only when she burst out onto South Western Avenue that she skidded to a halt, utterly confused. She hadn't been looking where she'd been going, true enough, but to end up here? That meant she'd run right past the bakery, which was pretty much whatever at this point, because the real kicker of the deal was that she'd run roughly a mile.
In a little over a minute.
And that was impossible.
Look, there were Olympic athletes who were trying to run a mile down a track in under three minutes. Three. There was no way that she, Katherine Hana Li, had run down a busy Los Angeles sidewalk in slightly over one. Even the Mighty Dragon couldn't do that--and he could fly!
Pulling out her cell, Kathy decided to call for a cab home. All that running had made her tired (regular tired, though, not omg-I-just-sprinted-a-mile-in-a-minute-I-should-be-collapsing-on-the-ground-exhausted tired) and she really didn't want to go back there. See the people she'd flown by. Or the Seventeens who might still be looking for her. Or the stupid bakery that had caused this whole mess in the first place.
Later that night, on the plane ride back to the island, Kathy couldn't help but think of that time in the common room when she'd nearly jumped to the ceiling.
What's happening to me?
[NFI, NFB]