Himeko nodded. "Yes, that's my name," she said, smiling. "I'm surprised you knew how to pick out my given name."

"M- my friend was Korean. I know Asian names," April attempted to smile. "Is Kim alright?"

Himeko sighed. "I wouldn't know. I just found out about you today."

"Oh," April murmured, immediately depressed again.

"Do you know what your Unbound ability is?" Himeko asked- she figured she should get everything necessary out of the way.

April's eyes began to tear up. "I didn't even know I was an Unbound. I thought I was a normal person, living like everybody else." She sniffed, beginning to cry. "Before that, I wanted to be a singer. Fans everywhere, making people happy . . ."

Himeko nodded. "I'd heard some Unbound don't realize what they're capable of until they've already grown up. You're in the minority."

"Great," she muttered, "I'm a freak among freaks."

Himeko smiled at her. "That's not what I meant. You're special. You have something most Unbound- let alone most people- have." She had to shift the subject. "Do you have any idea what your ability could be?"

"None," April answered sadly. "I go to sleep, I have nightmares, and then I wake up with more of this place destroyed." She stared blankly at a dangling strip of padding on the ceiling. "The orderlies clean up the damage every so often. Before they start, though, they jab me with a needle. Then the buzzer." April's eyes glazed over, the tears freely flowing.

Himeko listened to April, paying rapt attention. "This needle- it's filled with a green, almost clear stuff, right?"

April nodded, still staring at the wall.

So much for being something permanent, Himeko thought. "What is the buzzer?"

April shook her head, as if clearing it, and looked at Himeko in confusion. "It's a little black box. It makes this horrible, horrible noise . . . and then I can't move . . ." The brunette shook like a leaf, unwilling to relate more.

Himeko narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Do the orderlies . . . do anything to you with the buzzer on?" The Japanese woman had to know. It was more than a morbid curiosity-it seemed important she know. 

"Sometimes," April whispered, "they hit me while I can't fight back." The young woman shook in fear, putting a hand to her swollen face.

Himeko internally sighed in relief that that was all- and then immediately berated herself. That much was too much. Himeko was prepared to advise Mr. Knoll that, if he wanted cooperative test subjects, he'd need  to start treating them with a modicum of respect (she'd internally decided that he wouldn't hear out cries for the humanity of Unbound, and this was the next best thing).The room's gloom and the broken young woman before her were starting to seriously overwhelm Himeko. 

"I'll see you next week. Maybe things will improve around here," Himeko said quietly, stepping out of the room.

In the moment Himeko closed the door, she heard five words that nearly drove her to tears. 

"How long is a week?" April asked, in innocent desperation.