A grunt. Followed by more tugging.

"Could you be just a little more gentle?" Baekhyun asks the old man - Jiwoo - through gritted teeth.

After his scene in the cafe, the owner had begrudgingly hauled him up to the attic where he had been letting him stay for the past few weeks. It wasn't until the man had begun re-stitching the light wielder's leg that he woke up due to the immense pain.

"I'm letting you stay up here for free," Jiwoo tugs at the string again before finishing up, much to Baekhyun's relief, "and I'm patching you up when I don't need to. I can be as rough as I want, understand?"

The younger male merely nods. "Yes, sir. Sorry for the inconveniences."

"Listen. I know I'm doing you a favor, but I don't know how to help you, kid," the man sighs as he shoves the needle and string back into the suture kit before seating himself on the edge of the futon. "This is the third time you've shown up half dead on my doorstep."

It's not an exaggeration either. If anything, he's downplaying the amount of trouble Baekhyun has brought him upon his arrival. To be honest,  Jiwoo hadn't ever shown him this much care aside from allowing him a place to stay. He let Baekhyun deal with his own problems without too much prying, but then again, this is the first time he'd actually passed out in front of the elderly man.

"I'll try not to let it happen again." It's an honest response. All he can do is try, considering his lifestyle and mission.

Jiwoo purses his lips, but seems to accept the answer as he gets up to leave. The click of the attic door finalizes the quiet that overtakes the room and reality attacks Baekhyun in a flurry of memories, fears, and guilt. Luhan is gone. Or damaged so badly he can't utilize his power anymore. Both options anger and sadden him to the highest extent possible. The familiar warmth of light runs up and down his arm as his strong emotions trigger his power. 

There is no parallel to how useless he feels. No excuse for the bare amount of progress he has to show after months of searching. There's nothing.

He clenches his fists to dull the slowly increasing brightness of the light he's created and he maintains enough control over himself to avoid digging his nails straight into the skin of his palms. It doesn't occur to him until now, but it even upsets him that he can't explain the mystery that is Asami and her ability to handle his orb with no consequence.

Humans shouldn't be able to hold such power in the palm of their hand without it tearing them apart from the inside out, that much he knows about his orb and the orbs of the others as well. But from his time with her, Baekhyun can confidently conclude she's an innocent human, so why? What makes her so special? He doubts she herself knows the answers to those questions based on the way she'd reacted to him.

And to follow the pattern of the past few months, he settles with having more questions than answers.

--

Is Baekhyun okay?

The thought crosses Asami's mind a minimum of a thousand times throughout the day. Information from her classes goes in one ear and out the other because it's not what she wants to hear. Call her obsessive or whatever you will, but it's become apparent that she found him on the street for a reason, she wanted to help him so badly for a reason. Education be damned if it means she discovers why his appearance has shaken her so much.

Jaehwan insists that he sees her back to her apartment, even though he lives on the other side of town. As usual, he probably caught on to her wandering mind since the moment he caught her in the hallway. She vehemently denies with this in mind, claiming that she has errands to run before going home and doesn't wish to bother him with them.

That's a lie. A small one, created to secure herself time to think without entertaining the worries he's projected upon her mental state. 

He accepts it for what it is. Asami wants to believe it's because she's convincing, but it's most likely due to the twinge of desperation that laces her excuse.

Once she's back home, she makes a beeline to her room. She didn't have the heart to make the unkempt bed this morning for whatever reason. Not that it matters now, because the sheets are stained with Baekhyun's blood and need to be changed anyway. With the dirtied pieces of cloth in the washer and new sheets donning the space neatly, she could almost pretend like nothing had ever happened.

Almost.

The note he left in his wake lies unmoved on her bedside table. His handwriting is thin and messy, each line shakily drawn due to the confines of the nighttime's darkness. If she never sees him again, which is quickly becoming the popular opinion within the mess of her mind, this will be the only piece of evidence that they'd ever met. A two worded note. It seems like the type of thing a guy like him would do. To show up heavily beaten, threaten to kill her, spew odd things about an equally as odd ball, be somehow alluring in spite of everything else. Something akin to a ghost, coming and going as he sees fit, leaving behind only remnants of feelings he brings along with him.

Asami so happens to be the lucky victim who's gotten more than just a feeling. Not that she intially wanted any of what he'd unknowingly given her. But, staring at the paper in the present time, she's not so sure she'd go back and reject any of it.

Falling asleep that night brings her to a bright white room. Garbled speech makes its way to her still adjusting ears and, although