At last, they arrived in the Shining City. It certainly lived up to its name. Bright lights shone everywhere amidst the evening sky. Tall buildings loomed above them, as the pair wove through traffic toward their destination. They parked in front of a two-story brick townhouse.

“This is it,” Yui said, leading Al up the stairs. He knocked on the door. The doorknob turned, and the door creaked open slowly, revealing a young lady with wavy chestnut brown hair that fell over the shoulders of her floral nightgown.

“Please, come in,” she said, weakly. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks wet. She held open the door for them.

“Are you sure it’s alright for me to be here?” Al whispered, nervously. He paused before they stepped through the doorway. The city air was thick with human emotions, and he could feel especially strong anguish emanating from that house in particular. “Should I wait outside?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Yui said in a tone that was more laid-back than was appropriate for the situation. Sensing Al’s trepidation, he grabbed the older man’s arm and ushered him into the house. As they passed by Anabelle, who pointed them in the direction of her living room, Al could sense that the sudden presence of his dark, looming figure made her a little uneasy.

They sat down on chairs, while Anabelle sat on the sofa across from them. “So, tell me what’s hurting you,” Yui said simply.

“Well, um, it’s… my son, Timmy,” the young woman began. Her hands were fidgeting in her lap. She started sniffling. “He… passed away recently. And… It’s all my fault! I… how could I…? I’m such an awful parent! I shouldn’t…!” Her voice was breaking as she started crying.

Al felt her anguish surge within him, and it took effort not to cry. Over the years, he had grown accustomed to hiding his emotions. He used to be so good at not displaying the fact that other people crying made it incredibly hard for him not to do the same. He used to be able to act as stoic as a brick wall. But after that wall came crashing down, he shut himself off from society. Being away from people for so long, away from their emotions, made him forget how hard it was to not let them affect him.

“It’s okay,” Yui’s soft voice said sweetly, as he leaned over and held Anabelle’s hand. “Take your time.” He rubbed his thumb against her skin.

Al felt slightly soothed, and he wasn’t sure whether it was just because Anabelle was a little calmer, or if Yui’s voice had a comforting effect on him as well. After a moment, Anabelle caught her breath and continued.

“Last September, my husband and I… Well, ex-husband now… We took Timmy hiking for his 8th birthday. We were climbing some steep cliffs, and…” she trailed off, crying again. Her bright blue eyes flooded with tears. Yui found a box of tissues on a table nearby and handed them to her. “There were some flowers near the edge of the cliff. ‘Mommy, I’ll go get you one!’ he said to me, ‘they match your eyes!’ It was the last thing he ever said…” she paused again. Al felt his chest constrict. “His father said it was a bad idea, but I… I don’t know. I don’t know what I was thinking! But I… I told him ‘go ahead, mommy’s right here’… and when he went to pick up the flower, his foot slipped… and he fell down the cliff… and it’s… it’s all my fault!” She buried her head in her hands, her body wracked with sobs.

Al leaned his arm on the side of his chair, covering his eyes with one of his hands, so the others couldn’t see him crying. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He imagined this was what it would feel like if it was his child who had died. He tried his best to remain calm.

Yui, on the other hand, retained his pleasant smile and composure, as he got up and transferred over to the couch to sit beside Anabelle. He put an arm around her shoulder as she cried. His dainty fingers rubbed her arm. “There, there,” he whispered softly into her ear. “It’s not your fault. I’ll make these feelings go away. You don’t have to suffer anymore. We’ll do it like we discussed, okay?”

She nodded.

“But only if you’re ready,” he added. “I won’t rush you.”

“Can we…” she tried to steady her breathing, “go up to my room?”

“Of course,” he said, pleasantly. He stood up and held out a hand for her, which she took. He gently lifted her to her feet. “After you, milady,” he courteously held a hand out to beckon her to lead the way up the stairs. 

They went up the stairs, and Al heard a click as the bedroom door closed. He was thankful to have more distance between himself and a woman in pain. He exhaled a deep breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding in. His large, rough hand slid down from his eyes to his thick black beard, which he rubbed while wondering what Yui and Anabelle were doing upstairs. He looked around, admiring the Victorian aesthetic of the small, cozy room. It was nice to see something so old-fashioned within a bustling, hi-tech city like this one.

Time went by, and Al was still sitting in that chair. He was getting a little tired of the busy floral patterns on the walls and furniture. His head had been hurting from the secondhand emotional stress, but he noticed that Anabelle’s mood was changing. He could still feel her from the floor below, though not as strongly as when she was in the same room. He could tell that whatever Yui was saying or doing was helping her. That made him feel more relaxed. It wasn’t like him to go off with a stranger, but after feeling that this stranger was doing something charitable, he felt like he had made the right decision by coming here.

Anabelle’s feelings continued to improve, the longer Al sat in that chair. He slowly felt her pain alleviating and being replaced with pleasure, which in turn, put him in a better mood as well. A little under an hour later, he heard the door click open, and Yui and Anabelle walked down the stairs. 

Al had started dozing off before he heard the door open, so he hadn’t noticed until they were downstairs, but it now occurred to him that all of her negative emotions were completely gone! She radiated an air of utmost bliss. Al could tell how light and free she felt as she waltzed toward him, her hair bouncing happily as she moved. Al didn’t understand it. She was severely depressed before they went into that bedroom. Suicidal, even. That kind of emotion couldn’t just be gone like that. Especially when it came to the death of a loved one. One’s own child, no less!

Anabelle spun around, her dress doing a little twirl. “Thank you so much Yui!” She exclaimed. Her newfound bliss was apparent in her voice, like she no longer had a care in the world. “I can never repay you enough!” She said, as she grabbed a handful of cash from her purse and thrusted it upon the young man. 

“This is way too much,” Yui exclaimed in protest. 

“But you deserve it for what you’ve done for me!” She insisted. “I haven’t felt this good in years!”

He smiled bashfully and ruffled the back of his hair. “How about we meet again in two month’s time, and you let me know how you’re feeling then?” He suggested. “If you’re still feeling well, I’ll accept the tip.”

She agreed enthusiastically, before walking off to make them a cup of tea for their travels. The men sat beside each other on the couch.

“What did you do to make her emotional distress completely disappear like that?” Al asked, completely bewildered. “It’s one thing to alleviate someone’s stress, but to completely erase it like that? I’ve never felt anything like it!”

Yui gave him a confused, yet rather cute, smile.

“I’m an Empath,” Al explained. “I feel everything people around me are feeling. If someone’s angry, I feel angry. If someone is horribly depressed to the point of contemplating suicide, I feel… Well, you get it. It’s not just that I feel bad for them because of their situation. I seriously feel as though their trauma is affecting me directly. …It’s a condition I was born with.”

“Wow!” He replied, childishly. “It sounds like a superpower!”

“It is not a superpower!” Al roared so loud that the fine China in the Victorian cabinets trembled. He quickly felt ashamed of losing his composure. “It’s a serious ailment, and it hurts to be around people. That’s why I live in isolation. Anyway, what did you do?”

“I made love to her.”

“Excuse me?”

“I made love to her,” he repeated, with a smile and shrug. “That’s my superpower.” He stretched his arms up in the air and leaned back on the couch.

“So, what, she’s just feeling light as a feather because you’re that good in bed?”

“That’s the gist of it, yeah.”

“That’s not a superpower, that’s just… sex.” Al cringed as if it was something dirty.

“I don’t just make people feel good, Al,” Yui said, while looking straight into Al’s eyes. “I make them feel good forever. I completely get rid of their trauma. Anxiety, depression, PTSD… I can cure psychological problems with my body! I have a gift!”

Al gave him a look that was a mix between concern, fear, and disgust. “You’re insane,” his accusation came out as a hoarse whisper.

“Well, my hunch has worked so far,” Yui said, “All of my previous patients have been 100% satisfied and are now living happy lives, free of their past burdens! Isn’t it great?” He threw his hands behind his head and grinned widely.

Al felt suspicious. Something about this didn’t sound right. But he couldn’t deny that he’d never felt someone’s negative emotions completely disappear like that before. Sure, it had been a while since he’d had sex, but he remembered enough to know it didn’t have that strong of an effect on people’s emotions afterwards. There’s always some hint of their sadness lingering behind, especially from a traumatic event like what Anabelle experienced. It couldn’t completely vanish. Yet here it was. The woman in the kitchen didn’t emit the slightest bit of distress. Al couldn’t help but be intrigued.

“Oh, shoot,” Yui exclaimed.

“What?”

“It’s getting late,” he said, “We gotta find a place to stay the night.” Anabelle was walking back into the living room with a tray of tea, when she heard this.

“Oh, please stay here,” she offered. “I have a spare bedroom that you can use. My way of thanking you.” She smiled at Yui, and he nodded. Al felt like a third wheel, being stuck between these two whose interactions were somewhere between that of lovers and a doctor-and-patient relationship.

After they drank their tea, Anabelle led them up to the spare bedroom. It was small and cluttered with various toys and games. There was a twin-sized bed in the far left corner. A television with game systems attached faced them as they walked in. On the right was a dresser, on top of which was an array of action figures and boxes of toys befitting a boy of 8. On top was a buildable dinosaur toy in a box that looked as though it had never been opened. Al grazed a finger across the top of the dresser, which took off a thick layer of dust. Some clothes and knick-knacks littered the floor. There was no doubt in his mind that Timmy was an only child and that they had just been given permission to sleep in a room that had been untouched since the boy’s passing. That familiar anguish that he felt from Anabelle earlier seeped into him once more. Then again, it never truly left. Those feelings never do. He felt as though he was stepping on his own son’s gravestone. He felt his throat close up and his chest constrict again. He tried taking a deep breath, but he inhaled dust and coughed.

“You okay?” Yui asked. He patted him on the back and walked around him. He plopped down on the bed, much like he did on Al’s couch earlier that day. Was that really the same day? Al felt like he had gone so far in one day. He never went on excursions without planning in advance. These days, he never went on excursions at all.

“Hey, this bed’s pretty comfy!” Yui grinned widely as he laid on his back with his hands behind his head. His legs stretched out, and Al realized he was rather short. Probably around 5’4”, going by the size of the bed. Yui’s carefree manner and petit form made him look and feel rather child-like to Al at that moment. It apparently didn’t bother Yui that he was laying on a dead child’s bed.

“Aren’t you ashamed?” Al asked, incredulously, as his tired, almost sickly-looking eyes squinted at the younger man. “This is Timmy’s room,” he added, while trying to keep his emotions in check and his volume low.

“Why should I be?” he asked, while he casually admired the video game and movie posters on the wall. “Anabelle told us she doesn’t mind us sleeping in here. In fact, she asked us to, so I don’t see why it should be a problem. …Hey, the kid's got good taste,” he said as an aside, and nodded as if agreeing with the boy’s choice in decor.

Al stood there, his eyes darting around the room. He looked as though he had just committed murder and was terrified of being caught.

“Relax, Al,” Yui said in an airy tone, “we aren’t hurting anyone.”

Except me, Al thought to himself.

“Come on and lay down,” he jumped up and wrapped his slender fingers around Al’s thick wrist to pull him onto the bed, but the sturdy man wouldn’t budge.

“Do you really think I’d be able to fit on that little bed with you?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Oh, we can squeeze,” he said confidently. “I’ve done my thing on smaller beds than this.”

Al pinched the bridge of his hooked nose in annoyance. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he decided.

“Alright,” Yui shrugged. “More room for me!” He stretched out. Before long, he was fast asleep.

The moment Al laid down to go to sleep, Anabelle’s emotions from earlier came flooding back to him. They threatened to drown him under their weight. After laying awake for some time, he sat up and made sure Yui was sleeping. The room was dark, so even if the boy woke up, he wouldn’t have been able to see what Al was doing. He took out his pocket knife, rolled up his black sleeve, took a deep breath, and cut.