Soo Yani sighed a long puff of air and let her head drop onto her arms. "I will never have a boyfriend," she mumbled into her arms. Her friend had to replay the words twice in her mind before she understood them.

Frowning, she declared: "Agreed."

Yani sighed again. "I'm too dark," she said.

"Yes," her friend agreed, "inseparable from a shadow."

"Invisible."

"Unnoticeable."

"Black."

"Oh, no," her friend said, petting Yani's arm, "If you were black, they'd definitely see you. Black is scary. You're more of a... common brown."

Yani raised her head enough to raise an eyebrow skeptically.

"Sort of tabby brown," her friend ammended, "Kinda cute, actually."

"Right," Yani drawled, "Cute. Well, thank you. I'm not sure that'll help me with the whole boyfriend thing, but thank you."

"On the bright side," her friend continued, "You'd make an awesome spy. Black hair, brown eyes, suntanned skin. You look like 90% of the people on the planet. You'd blend right in!"

"Well, now that you mention it..." Yani pretended to perk up. "I actually would make a pretty good spy."

"Right?" Her friend was on a roll now. "Perfect English. You could come from any part of the commonwealth, or even an old British colony. Tall for a short population, short for a tall population, right in between."

"And let's not forget my fantastic Scottish accent." Yani laughed, knowing it was one of her weaker dialects.

Then he arrived, and her laugh vanished. Her whole face turned slack, mouth turning up into a lazy smile. She did not not look at him as he walked past them on the stairs, but she really hoped she wasn't staring.

One good thing about having a school cafeteria was sitting by the stairs, watching all the lookers passing by, all of them pretty much her age. In Soo Yani's school, lunch break was drool hour, and Yani was not about to change that tradition. It was the highlight of her day.

~~*~~

As she headed back from class at the end of the day, her head floated comfortably in the clouds. Lunch hour aside, she'd ran into three more hot guys that day, and her spank bank had a very healthy balance, to put it nicely. She was so ready to go to sleep that night, ready to dream, that when her path was suddenly blocked by a large frame, and she looked up to see a dreamy face and wide shoulders, she just figured she'd begun dreaming a little early.

Only when his arms locked around her, did she scream. The next thing she knew, the earth had swallowed them both. Literally.

~~*~~

"...what did you do?"

"I found her!"

"I don't know how you could possibly think so, because that's not her."

"I know, but she'll help me find her. I know she will."

"I'll probably hate myself for asking, but how do you know that?"

"N told me."

"N told you."

"N told me."

"And N is never wrong."

"Never."

"Oh, yes. Jesus was just a slip-up. I'm sure Spartacus was grateful. Who did he kill again? Hongbin's kid?"

"Ken's."

"Ah, my mistake."

"I get your point, Ravi, but she's my only clue. And no matter what surprises came along with it, N always read true."

"I doubt Ken would see it that way."

~~*~~

Yani felt dirty. She felt like she'd taken a mudbath, rinsed it with sand, then used dirt as a shampoo. Probably excrements and vomit too. Her nose seemed nearly plugged with something soft. She guessed mud, going by the smell of it. Grains of sand lurked by the corners of her eyes, waiting for her to open the gates and let them in. Something itched on her forehead, and she did not want to think about the rest of her body. This was the worst.

As she came to, her memory struck, and she had to fight herself to keep from screaming. She could not, however, keep her body from moving, and though she didn't lash out for long, she felt panic bubbling beneath her skin, along , speeding up her heart rate until she felt like she was breathing bubbles instead of air. This was bad. Very bad.

Two voices had been talking nearby when she first came to, but now she suddenly noticed the extreme silence. They knew she was awake, didn't they. Yani scrunched her eyes, hating the thought of facing these godawful people. She was covered in filth, was raw, and she would probably go blind the moment she opened her eyes. She couldn't even breathe properly through her nose. She might breathe in the mud hanging from her nostrils.

She couldn't help it. She whimpered.

"Hey, there," a clearly masculine voice cooed at her, "Are you alright?"

Yani wanted to scream, roll her eyes, and cry at the same time. No, she was not alright! She had been kidnapped! Some man had walked up to her on the university campus, slung his arms around her and - dare she believe it? - dragged her into the ground, and here they were, arguing about how she would find something for them, and then he asked if she was alright?

But before she could muster the courage to say a single one of those things out loud, the voice rushed to excuse itself: "I'm sorry. Ofcourse you're not alright." An arm s beneath her shoulders, and, fragile as she might have been, Yani couldn't help but notice how muscular it was. She felt completely safe, lying on this arm. He cradled her shoulders, then begun washing her face with what she hoped was a wet cloth. "I'm sorry about all this. My friend... he went too far. I'm sorry." And she believed him. She believed in this voice, this hoarse, male voice, with all its groveling strength. He was actually sorry for whatever had happened.

Her face a little cleaner, she held up her hands for the cloth. After a pause, it fell softly into her palms, and as she brushed off her hands, she tried opening . She didn't choke on sand, at least, and breathing was so much better. "Thank you, for saying that," she said, before taking the cloth to her nose and honking the mud out. She must have looked absolutely disgusting, but when a girl can't breathe, that kind of thing really didn't matter as much. A few more nasal blows into the 'kerchief, and she felt much more comfortable breathing. Turning the cloth to tackle her eyes, she asked: "Why did you do... whatever you did?"

The silence stretched on into the uncomfortable.

"No, don't you dare," she spat out, surprised by her own rage, "You owe me the truth. Unless you plan to kill me for it, spill."

The silence held on, and she scrubbed franticly at her eyes, digging out each grain of sand with her fingernails.

"Now," she declared firmly, whipping her head back, staring straight ahead. She lost her breath. In front of her sat two gods. As in hunks. As in lookers. As in handsome men. As in beautiful, cool, muscular, handsome, handsome, handsome men. The mud pudding on her forehead loosened and fell to the floor with a crack.

"Wow."