Kyrian’s hand slowly gripped the faucet, gaze on the drain at his feet as the water pounded over his head.

The question hung awkwardly in the air, and he fought down the urge to lash out at the person that had asked. He blinked several times before lifting his head to look back at the young man behind him.

“What the fuck did you say?”

That was not subtle, good job.

Shion masked his surprise at Kyrian’s cold response, and tapped his cheek cutely. “I’m sorry if that came off as rude, but I couldn’t help but look into you more after our last encounter…”

He dropped his head to show his respect as he apologized. 

Just leave, just walk away.

Kyrian shifted his gaze, jaw clenching as he worked to calm his racing heart. It thudded heavily, and the shaky breath told him he was shaken by the invasive question. It was everything he was trying to avoid reliving.

The headache made it difficult to think.

Shion stood awkwardly by, the sound of the powerful stream of water the only disturbance to the heavy silence.

“I really couldn’t help asking… it’s such a large scar, it had to be a fatal injury? How did you survive?” He pressed, his voice carrying over as gentle and sweet, while his words felt like hungry blades looking for a crack in his armor.

“I’m sure you already know the answer to that if you did even a half-ass job looking into my history.” Kyrian gritted, hand roughly turning the water off. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” he said lowly, “I will be leaving first.”

He wanted to get out of the showers and away from this person as quickly as possible. The steam no longer soothed his aching muscles, but rather felt suffocating and made him feel trapped. 

“I am sorry if I offended you,” Shion called out softly, “if you would like, may I treat you to a meal sometime as an apology? I- I would love to learn more about you… from the source, you know?”

Kyrian silently lifted his hand, almost as if to wave the suggestion off, and roughly exited the showers. The door slammed shut behind him, cutting off any other attempts Shion might have made to speak.

Water dripped down his back as he padded through the locker room, leaving puddles in his wake, and he realized he had left his towel behind.

Whatever… I can find another one.

He went to his locker and began getting dressed despite the way his clothes stuck to his wet skin. There was too much to get done today to linger, and he felt his skin crawl as his memories threatened to drag him down.

It had to be the fatigue.

“Damn it!” He cursed softly, angrily slamming his fist against the locker in frustration when the sleeve of his dress shirt got caught again. 

His hands trembled as he tried to button the shirt, fingers numbly fumbling with the small round plastic bits, and he dropped his hands to his sides with a shaky exhale.

He stood there for a moment, just steadying his breath, and hoping Shion did not decide to follow him.

‘Ky, you’re different. You’re everything society wants, why would you give that up?’

‘Why would you keep a rotting fruit? Wouldn’t it be better to throw it away if it’s spoiled?’

‘...’

‘Why are you looking at me like that? Neris?’

‘Nothing… I’m just proud of my baby brother, let me bask in how well I raised you.’

He closed his eyes, inhaling unsteadily, and slowly resumed buttoning his shirt with calmer hands.

***

“Do you need me to remind you where things are?” Dr. Kroft asked sneerily, clearly still irritated by the incident several days prior.

So much had happened since then, Kyrian almost had forgotten about the way he’d breached protocol to subdue Eiden before the guards arrived.

He glanced at the screens displaying the various angles within the confinement room.

Eiden was still hooked up to an IV drip, but since the Guiding had succeeded he was not bed ridden.

“We need to take some blood samples today, and test out some Esper inhibitors that we’re developing… the last ones had some unfavorable side effects.” Kroft glared at Kyrian over the top of his tablet and huffed. “You would know this if you had stayed put.”

Kyrian turned his head away, unable to stop the eyeroll of irritation. 

Something could have happened if I’d stayed put.

“Wait, what happened to your nurse that day?” He suddenly asked as the thought crossed his mind. The last time he had asked he had not been given a direct answer. Merely a warning that everyone at the Coppice was essentially expendable.

Kroft stared at Kyrian curiously, like he had asked a rather strange question. He arched forward like a scarecrow bending in the wind, tablet resting delicately on the fingertips of his dominant hand. “Why does it matter?” Came the sharp response. “She failed her job, which she was generally bad at anyways, so it was not an unfortunate loss.” 

He straightened his narrow back, and turned away, physically shutting Kyrian out from the chance to say anything else.

“We’ll need your help with keeping S-1 calm while administering the inhibitors,” Kroft started to speak, his back still to Kyrian, “there may be a potential spike in its wavelength before bottoming out.”

Kyrian picked up a discarded clipboard with papers and notes scrawled on it, eyes narrowing. “What exactly are the inhibitors for?”

“Bah! You’re not really that dumb, are you?” Kroft chided, his narrow shoulders hunching forward as he cast a scathing glare back at the Guide. 

The only reaction was a silent blink from Kyrian, still holding the clipboard.

“Statistically clueless equals useless…” Kroft  grumbled, “they’re to block an Esper’s flow of energy, incredibly useful when there’s not a Guide around anymore.”

It strips them of the one thing that makes everyone fear them? Wouldn’t this be incredibly popular?

Kyrian’s gaze scanned the mess of information on the clipboard in his hand. Though it sounded like an incredible creation that could potentially make Espers both easier to control and adjust to society, there was something unsettling about the idea that he could not shake.

Surely this could be a way to give lower ranked Espers a normal life?

“Would you stop asking such useless questions and get your gear on?”

A nurse had laid out a mask, gloves, and a one-piece jumper for Kyrian to zip himself into.

He glanced from the neatly placed equipment to the mirror-window into Eiden’s room, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement, and a feeling of dread curling in his gut as he stood helpless before his own gaunt reflection in the glass.