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AAOOOSC! All-Stars!

M I N T

In the late afternoon, a large, modern sushi restaurant is bustling with life. The white table cloth-covered tables and booths across the eating area are filled with people chattering, looking at menus, and eating.

Occupying the tables in the middle of the area, in between the rows of booths, are the All-Stars. They are all separated in different tables according to age, enjoying their pre-game meal.

Sitting at the table at the far end is Clayton Keller, who is facing the entrance. Across from him is Miro Heiskanen; next to Miro is Elias Pettersson. Clayton and Elias have served some of the sushi rolls in the middle of their table and are eating. Miro stares at the rolls with large eyes and a frown.

Clayton lifts his eyes up from his plate, spotting the Finnish rookie not moving. Why is he staring at the plates like that? Hasn’t he not have seen sushi? It’s making me uncomfortable.

He gestures his chopsticks toward the rolls Miro has his eyes on. “Well, aren’t you gonna eat?”

Miro darts his eyes at the array of rolls stretched across their small table. “Is it...safe…?”

Elias dips his roll in soy sauce as he replies nonchalantly, “If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be eating it.” He then pops it in his mouth.

“I mean, you can’t starve,” Clayton tells him.

Miro turns his eyes back down at the roll in front of him. He whimpers. He then picks up his fork and jabs it at the roll.

Elias shoots a glare at his actions. “You touched it, you eat it.”

Miro cranes his head up and moans.

The Swede points his chopsticks to his plate. “Put it on your plate.”

Miro scoops up the roll with his fork and drops it on his plate. Elias then swipes the tip of his chopsticks with wasabi and dabs it on the served roll.

He then picks up his small bowl of soy sauce and places it by his plate. “Dip it in the soy sauce.”

Hesitantly, Miro picks up the roll with his fork and grazes it across the brown liquid.

Elias points chopsticks at him. “And eat it.”

Miro lifts the roll up to his slightly-opened mouth. He halts and darts his eyes to Elias. Elias holds a scowl at him. Miro stuffs it in his mouth and chews. He flicks his eyes aside, rotates them up. Then his entire face lights up as he gazes ahead. He swallows.

Elias eyes him as he reaches over to another roll. “So...what do you think?”

Miro nods and turns to him. “It’s mint.”

He raises his eyebrows as he places the roll on his plate. “It’s mint?”

“Mint.”

Elias smirks. “Mint…!”

Miro then turns to the roll in front of him and serves more. Elias resumes eating.

Across from them, Clayton furrows his thick eyebrows at the two Scandinavians. “What did you guys just say?”

“Mint.” Elias pops a slice of ginger into his mouth.

Miro gives him a warm smile. “Mint!”

They continue eating.

Clayton blinks at them in utter bewilderment. He then senses the warm surging of his powers rushing through his chest.

He turns his head away from them and looks down. Something’s not right. My powers are working hard. They’re blocking some type of supernatural force...

Clayton takes his cloth napkin off his lap, places it on the table, stands up, and stalks down the walkway, past his table.

“Mint!” he hears Miro remark from behind him.

Clayton passes down the tables of the other All-Stars to his left. Various voices saying “mint” whisk through his ears:

“Mint.”

“Mint!”

“Mint?”

“Mint…!”

To his right are the booths against the walls; sitting on one, all alone, is Patrik Laine, who is scarfing down an entire plate of oysters, including the shells and plate itself.

Clayton shakes his head with pressed lips. Please tell me I’m just hearing things...

He halts at the table by the entrance, which is occupied by Sidney Crosby, John Tavares, Patrick Kane, and Pekka Rinne.

The four veterans turn their attention to him.

“Uh…” Clayton slips his hands into his pants’ pockets, “do you guys sense something...weird?”

Sidney scrunches his eyebrows. “Mint?”

Clayton’s eyes snap open. Oh shoot, they’re saying it too.

Patrick smirks at him. “Pretty mint…!”

Pekka turns to Sidney. “Mint?”

John nods. “Mint.”

Clayton stares at them in horror. This can’t be happening. Stop!

He stumbles backward before sprinting down the walkway and turning right to the glass doors, bursting out into the cool early evening.

Clayton halts in front of the bench situated by the entrance, leaning over with his hands on his lap and huffing.

They’re-they’re going insane...something is making them go insane…! He straightens up, lowering the pace of his breathing. And my powers are going insane too! They’re working hard— He stares ahead. They’re battling against a force. There’s a force...that’s making everyone saying—

“Mint!” Sebastian Aho exclaims as he strolls through the entrance on the phone, heading in the opposite direction.

Clayton cranes his head up and lets out a groan: “UGH!” He fixes his posture and whirls his head around. “Who-what-where—”

He then closes his eyes with his fists by his sides and drives his focus to his power surge. The surge conjures a blurry and shifty mental image of the large NHL shield placed at the end of the walkway in the Plaza de César Chávez.

Clayton then snaps his sharp blue eyes open. I know the culprit behind this.

He then rushes across the parking lot.





As the sun dips down the horizon of San Jose, Clayton marches down the walkway of the Plaza de César Chávez, with the puck-shaped large banners on each side. Looming above him, on its own high platform at the end of the walkway, is a towering banner of the NHL shield.

Clayton dashes up the stairs and lands on the platform. He holds onto one of the metal railings holding up the banner.

Instantly, the churning energy in a circular shape opens up in front of him. Colors of silver, white, and black swirl around it. Clayton dips his hand into the portal and yanks it back out, pulling out Jesperi Kotkaniemi as well by the hood of his hoodie. He tosses the rookie behind him.

Jesperi loses his balance due to the force and tumbles down the staircase, hitting his head, sides, and stomach: “Oof! Ow! Eek! Ack! Ugh—”

He crashes onto the concrete walkway on his stomach, staring out ahead with a weary look and disheveled hair; his long legs stick up from behind him. “Ouch…!”

Clayton stalks down the staircase as the portal disappears behind him. He rounds the power player to face him, swoops his hand to grab the collar of his hoodie, and pulls him up to his eye level.

A toothy smile jumps onto Jesperi’s face. “Oh, hello, Mr. Clayton!”

Clayton holds a scowl on him. “Don’t ‘hello’ me—” He yanks him up to his face. “—what did you to us?”

His bright expression drops into confusion. “What?”

“What. Did. You. Do. To. The. ALL-STARS?!”

Jesperi peers behind him. “Uhhh…” He reverts his gaze at him. “What are the All-Stars?”

They stand in the walkway, surrounded by the All-Star-themed puck-shaped banners.

“UGH!” In frustration, Clayton shoves the rookie behind him.

Jesperi plummets toward the ground, only to catch himself by rolling and popping himself back up to his feet.

Clayton whirls around and stalks up toward him, like an agitated coyote. “Don’t play DUMB with me, Kotkaniemi!”

Jesperi, with uneasiness, waves his palms at him while stepping backward. “Sorry, sorry, I-I was just bored tonight and Bubs wasn’t home so—”

“—you decided to make all the All-Stars make say ‘mint.’” He halts in his tracks and crosses his arms.

A large grin springs onto Jesperi’s face as his eyes light up with a purple sparkle. “Yes!” He hops in place and claps.

Clayton has an unamused look. “You gotta make better plans for the night.”

Jesperi’s enthusiasm sputters out as he slows his movements. “Wait, but you’re—”

“Yeah, environmental adaptation doesn’t apply to just physical harms for me.”

Jesperi drops his head. “That’s not mint.”

“No, it’s not. But you know what would be?”

Jesperi peers up with excited eyes. “What, what, what?” He dashes up to him.

Clayton looks up at him and places his hands on his hips. “Making everyone stop saying ‘mint.’”

Jesperi gives him a frown. “Aw, really?”

“Yes, really.”

“But that’d be less mint because no one would be saying mint…”

His voice fades as he takes in Clayton’s scowl.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “Okay…”

Jesperi then closes his eyes and places his hands over his temples. A wispy, purple energy sweeps around him like a soft whirlwind, lifting him up inches from the ground while fluttering his hair. The energy then dies down, placing him back on his feet.

Jesperi opens his eyes and drops his hands. He turns to Clayton with a warm, closed smile. “All done.”

“Good.” Then with his hands clasped behind him, Clayton whisks past him, down the walkway.

Jesperi peers behind his shoulder, then shoots at him a mischievous grin before dashes toward the NHL shield.

“Who said you can leave now?”

Jesperi halts at the sound of Clayton’s rhetorical question.

“You gotta apologize. Come with me.”

Jesperi, with a huff, hunches over, shuffles around, and follows him.



Clayton pushes Jesperi into the sushi restaurant and leads him to the left and down the walkway. The two halt in front of the All-Stars’ tables, standing by the walkway. All the All-Stars stop their eating and turn to them.

Clayton steps out from behind the taller rookie. “Jesperi here has something to tell you.” He holds his hand out to him.

Jesperi waves to them with a bright grin “Hei!”

“Hei!” Sidney Crosby pipes up.

“Mitä kuuluu?” Marc-André Fleury asks.

“Tule tänne ja istu kanssamme!” Elias Pettersson pats him a seat beside him.

“Oletko kokeillut tätä sushia?” Thomas Chabot raises a roll with his chopsticks in the air

“Se on herkullista!” Next to him, Mat Barzal rips a shrimp tempura with his teeth

The All-Stars continue throwing Finnish statements and questions at a beaming Jesperi.

Next to him, Clayton blinks in confusion. “What on earth—”

Clayton senses Jesperi’s presence disappearing, causing him to turn to his left. Sure enough, he spots the rookie strolling toward his table. He grabs his hood, yanks him back next to him and spins him around.

“What did you do?” Clayton growls at him, clutching onto his upper arms.

Jesperi musters up an uneasy smile. “They’re not saying ‘mint’...!”

“No, but they’re speaking Finnish.”

Jesperi holds a hand out toward them. “You can join them if you—”

“Stop making them speak Finnish!” He turns him back around to face the tables filled with Finnish.

Jesperi studies them; his eyes then gleam purple.

Instantly, the Finnish morphs into a cacophony of meowing and barking.

On one hand, Clayton gawks at the scene. On the other hand, Jesperi leans back and laughs with his hand by his mouth.

Clayton then grits his teeth as a groan arises through him. He slaps his forehead with squeezed eyes and lets out a growl.

“Woof!” he hears Jesperi throw at them.

Clayton shoots his hands to his upper arms and whirls him around to face him. “Okay, wise guy, I know what you’re doing. Now listen very closely to every single word I say.” He stares deeply into his brown-colored eyes. “Revert them to the style of speech each of them were using before you did anything sort of mental manipulation on them tonight.”

Jesperi darts his eyes around. He then lands them on him, droopy. “Phooeys.”

Clayton pulls away and lets go of him. Jesperi turns back to the tables; his eyes glimmer purple.

The sounds of dogs and cats dissolve into the usual chattering of the All-Stars.

With a proud smile, Jesperi exclaims, “There!” He dusts his hands against each other. “All fixed!”

“Now apologize,” Clayton snaps at him.

Jesperi looks down, scrutinizing the shiny floor with his hand on his chin. He then gazes back at him with a bright grin. “They all apologized!”

Clayton furrows his thick eyebrows in bewilderment. “What—?”

Jesperi begins walking backward; he spins his fingers around his temples. “It’s all in here!” He then spins back around and ambles to the table with Miro and Elias.

Clayton scowls at him taking an empty seat next to Miro. Ugh, why is he sitting at my table? I want him gone; he’s so annoying!

Heisky spotted me and wanted me to come here…! Jepseri’s voice echoes in his mind.

Clayton freezes with wide eyes as he continues to hear mentally: And he wants you to sit back down with us. Also, it takes one to know one.

Clayton lets out a defeated huff. He then shuffles back to his seat and joins the rest with finishing their pregame meal.


The End of “M I N T.”

Notes

Episode 13/15


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