[h2]Mika Alkaev - Encounters in Birdwatching[/h2]
Someone was following him.

Though it wasn’t entirely uncommon for someone in his line of work to get followed around - and definitely not something unfamiliar to him himself - it was still a jarring turn of events nonetheless. He hadn’t expected something like this to come up here. Fortunately, he was well-suited to getting rid of tails. Unfortunately, he didn’t really know the topology of the building, so he was just winging it at this point, far away from anywhere familiar and relying more on being faster than being able to outmaneuver. 

Considering his pursuer, this was moot point. Homeground advantage was a potent thing. Being the world’s best telekinetic was also a pretty significant factor, admittedly.

“WA-AAA-AAAAH!!” 

Before he realized it, Mika let out a frightened screech that went up and up in pitch, echoing through the corridors nearby. It was pathetic, really. He was better than that; he [i]knew[/i] he was better than that. It was just that he hadn’t at all expected his tail to suddenly  [i]talk[/i] to him, and to be his [i]teacher[/i] of all people.

He soon calmed down though, but the remnants of that wide-eyed disorientation in his expression were evident. It didn’t help that he didn’t quite understand what he’d been told - maybe he’d been moving too fast or something. Something about deep water? He kind of just stood there, staring at her until she made her second statement. Then he blinked. [i]That[/i] explained it. He wasn’t rushin’; she was speaking [i]Russian[/i]. 

That said, he hadn’t properly spoken his mother tongue in a good decade;  properly relearning the language had always been a bridge he would cross when it came to it - and now it came to it. He [i]could[/i] still convey general concepts, but the exact-intent-to-speech translation escaped him.

Except for the expletives. Those always came in handy.

Mika scratched his nose. Even if his polite Russian wasn’t the best, it didn’t mean he couldn’t at least give it his best go by bastardizing the impolite Russian. If he knew the meaning of the phrase, all he’d have to do was omit the right (wrong...?) bit and substitute something else, no? He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, thinking about how best to go about this, and spoke: 

“You stop my brain with stupid questions.” That didn’t sound too right.  “Err… I’ve had thoughts of you?” Wait, no. That didn’t mean at all what he thought it did on second thought. “Do you think - I don’t care. Understand?” 

Well, if there was anything moving fast was good for, it was digging holes.

“I will shut your fucking mouth.”

[i]Very[/i] good.

“...” There was a pregnant pause and a cringe from the young man. This experience hurt him on the inside. “...I can speak Japanese better,” he said in Japanese, “No insult intended, I swear! I just wanted to know about like, advice on how to pass the first part and stuff.” He paused again. He was forgetting something.

“Oh, and how should I go about cleaning this uniform?”