For a moment he lay still on the pavement. Then, suddenly, his head jerked upward and Konin watched himself smile as he picked himself off the floor. He ran forward, laughing as he flicked his shoes into the sky and stripped off his uniform, then his undergarments—until only his underwear and the bag slung over his shoulder remained. Mr. Smith’s voice yelled in the background, but Konin was already halfway over the school fence. The video ended as he jumped.

Konin groped for words; Tav watched him, eager. “Delete that,” he said finally.

“No,” Tav laughed.

“I’m being serious.” He lunged for the phone but was a moment too late.

“No!” she cackled. “I’m not even done yet—there’s still one more.” She scrolled for the next clip. Konin’s shoulders sagged. “There’s more?” he asked, defeated.

“Yeah—this one’s from when we tried to find you. We checked all the nearby cameras around the school and found you again, two hours later...” She tapped the video and Konin leaned in. “…at a clothes store.”

The footage opened on customers buying items and paying at the counter. A boy walked in wearing only boxers, his hair a mess, each step accentuating his muscles. People recoiled and avoided him; the clerks didn’t even try to intervene, phones already to their ears. He browsed, picked out clothes—the same jacket and jeans Konin wore now—tried them on in the aisle, then walked to the counter and threw something at the cashier before dissolving into a pool of liquid that splashed across the floor. The clip cut.

Konin shoved his hand into his pocket, fumbled for his wallet, sighed and leaned back against the bus-stop glass, staring at the graffiti-stained ceiling. “It was my card,” he muttered. “I threw my card away.”

Tav put her phone away at last, and Konin kept staring at the ceiling. “Wanna talk about it?” she asked, still smiling.

“No.” He ran his hands through his hair. “No.”

Tav leaned back to study him. His eyes seemed to glow in the light; his hair and the beginnings of a beard made his face look older. She reached out and ruffled his hair. He met her gaze.

“We all have bad days, Konin. Don’t let it get to you. A few months from now it’ll be like it never happened, okay?”

“…’Kay,” he whispered.

A murmur rose around them. They both looked up. Streaks of white fell from the sky and children laughed; others squealed. “It’s snowing,” Tav said flatly. Konin bit his finger.

“Tav.” He called.

“Yeah?” As she turned, Konin slipped his finger into her mouth. She shivered at the metallic taste and spat onto the pavement. “What’s wrong with you?!” she demanded, glaring, but Konin only stared at the blood and saliva mixing on his fingertip before putting it to his lips.

“Are you crazy?!” Tav stood.

Konin withdrew his finger. “How’s your leg?”

Tav lifted her foot and tapped it against the ground. The swelling was gone; there was no pain. “How did you—?” she breathed.

“It’s an ability I have. Apparently my blood can heal people. Oh—keep it a secret. Mum said I shouldn’t tell anyone.” He looked embarrassed.

Tav stared for a moment, then nodded. “…Right. Thank you.”

He nodded back. She was about to sit when the hiss of air announced the bus. She glanced at it, then at him, opened her mouth and closed it again. Konin settled into his seat. “Aren’t you getting on?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah.” She climbed the steps. “See you later, Konin.”

He watched the doors close. Only after the bus pulled away did he remember she still had the videos. He slapped his forehead. Idiot.