Thunder roared amongst the pouring clouds. The heavy, thick drops diluted the warm red life dripping from his arm forming a pale pink puddle under his clenched arm. Pain clawed its way from the wound toward his shoulder, tearing into his nerve endings with each microscopic movement. Waves of agony shook his body with their intensity.  The sensation was akin to being cut by a thousand  of  shards of glass and then bathed in lake of salt. It was as if he was experiencing pain incarnate, born from the very depths of suffering.

The sound of thunder pulled him from his sleep. The hollow cry promised destruction as his upper arm throbbed.  Blinking, Chen glanced around the room. It was dimly lit. Shadowy figures littered the room forming vaguely recognizable shapes. Settling into the mattress, he felt the empty echo of thunder in his bones, a light-less thunder. His throat felt similarly heavy as it cracked with his breath. He was in a strange room with a weighted body. That was dangerous. He tensed up creating fist with his hands.

Another rumble of thunder muffled the patter of footsteps. Chen blinked, temporarily blinded by the sudden increase the  intensity of the light. He turned toward the door. Chen saw Sungmin and  large cross hanging on the doorframe. The Jesus figure attached to it watched Chen as he surveyed the room. A second glance around the room showed that it was small. It was sparsely decorated with a shabby couch pushed against the right wall,a simple coffee table sat in front of the couch, and the worn bed he was on was in the center of the room . A closet stood on the left wall covered by faded posters. A stack of yellowed newspapers sat in front of it.  There were photos were attached on the walls of the same men as from Sungmin’s counter displays. The room had odd items: bags, clothes, books, and such littered across it, giving it a clustered look.

Sungmin cleared his throat, “You’re welcome to a shower.”

He gestured toward a small door hidden next to the closet.

“Do you live here?” Chen asked. His words were abrasive in his dry throat, acting like sandpaper across his lips. He stared at Sungmin, and then at the cross.

Sungmin shook his head, “I live up stairs. This is just an extra room behind the shop.”

“Oh,” Chen squeezed his eyes shut. His emotional hangover threatened to take away his sanity. He remembered talking to Sungmin, drinking his coffee, and nothing else.  Sungmin must’ve dragged him here after exhaustion has shut his eyes.

“Thanks,” Chen replied, pulling his aching body from the mattress.

“No problem,” Sungmin said, “It looked like you were having a rough day.”

Chen trudged toward the small shower. Silently, he cursed. He was too exhausted from yesterday to summon his backpack. Even if he could, there was a risk Sungmin would notice. Chen wasn’t afraid of humans, but risking exposure when so weak sounded risky. It was  a lot like pointing a neon yellow sign at him, only this sign would start off a witch hunt. He would’ve content himself with a warm shower.

Stripping of his garments, Chen entered the thin, narrow shower. There was barely breathing room between him and the walls.Steam rose from the hot rivet of water hitting his body, forming a strict contrast with the scenery from his sleep. Chen observed the water run clear and closed his eyes.

It was the bad sensation hanging in the air that drew Xiumin out of his thoughts. The storm raging outside the window was fierce. The air was thick with the tension of lightning’s desire  to graze the ground. Unfortunately for the yearning lightning, the weather conditions refused to allow it. The energy hung in the cloud, waiting like a stalking tiger. The air was heavy with the restricted potential.

“Hyung,” Kai called out with annoyance. From his twisted visage, Kai must have been vying for  his attention for quite some time.

Xiumin nodded, tentatively. He noted that the bruises had faded from Kai’s throat.  Xiumin wondered how frightened Kai had to have been. It would have taken endless hours to piece together enough energy to completely heal.

Kai coughed, “Sehun complains that he didn’t buy you a cellphone for you not to use it.”

Xiumin tapped the left pocket of his tan slacks. He did not recall any vibrations but that was not surprising. He had not remembered the blaring sounds around either: whirl slot machines, cheering from tables, and the throbbing base of the casino music.

“What did he need?” Xiumin asked.

“For you to use your phone,” Kai coughed, and then laughed, “That; and he said that he started to run interference.”  

At that jab, Xiumin pulled out his phone. It was an android, white and thin. He observed that there were twenty voice messages and thirty-three text messages. Each of them was from Sehun from the looks of it. He glanced at the end of the winding list of messages. The last one read: Damn it, fine you win, technophobe-nim. I’m sending Kai to talk to you.

He smiled, placing the phone back into his slacks. Sehun was wrong, of course. Xiumin had no problem with electronics - in fact he was interested in them. After all, they were the manifestations of humanity’s potential. He simply found physical interaction more fulfilling. When a person spoke to him, Xiumin was ensured that their existence was real.

Yesterday had not yet subsided from Chen’s marrow and synapses. His fingers still ached. His mind still ran a marathon on a mobius strip. The steam did little to relieve this continuous track of thoughts - it was a plaster on a ripped limb. Chen stepped out of the shower, stealing one of Sungmin’s towels. Quickly, he dried off his body and shoved his clothes on. After ensuring that he had not left anything, he exited the bathroom.

The Christ figure watched Chen as he headed toward the door beneath it. The air beyond smelled of sugar, warmth, and coffee. Peeking from behind the door, Chen saw that Sungmin was in front of  the wooden counter. Two plates sat on the counter as he set up his espresso machine. Sungmin’s back faced Chen.

“You’re Christian,” Chen commented, looking into the eyes of the figure that watched him.

Sungmin shook his head, “Strangely enough, my friend gave me that. I couldn’t find a good enough reason to turn him down.”

“So you’re not religious,” Chen responded.

“I wouldn’t say that either,” Sungmin said, thoughtfully.

Chen raised an eyebrow, questioning. There was no gray area in this subject - either one was religious or not. There was always some type of inclination no matter  how slight.  

“I believe in forces that influence the world,” Sungmin clarified, “ That force has been a multiple gods in the ancient world, a singular deity in the Medieval period,  reason in the Enlightenment era, and the list goes on. Whatever that force is now can only be decided by the current generation. And even then that  is only understood in hindsight.”

Chen paused. If belief, as Sungmin eloquently described it, was an force - a type of energy. Then, if the trend toward science continued, there would be no place for him in this world since energy can’t be created in this universe. That was the same as his belief in a more roundabout way.

“I apologize,” Sungmin said, “I forgot to ask, are you staying for breakfast?”

Chen suddenly recalled the plates set on the counter.

“You’ll have to wait a few minutes though,” Sungmin continued, “I have friends coming over.”

Chen shook his head, despite his stomach’s protest. He wasn’t hungry enough to bend more of his pride. It was shameful enough that Chen had taken a bed from Sungmin last night. The action was eerily similar to creating a debt which was something that didn’t sit well with Chen.

Anyway, if he stayed, he would have to socialize with Sungmin’s friends. It was strange enough that he could speak to Sungmin with relative calm; there was no chance this would extend to his friends.

“Do you want an umbrella, then?” Sungmin began to rummage under his counter.

Chen shook his head again. His pride reared its thick mane. Before Sungmin could delay him any longer, Chen briskly walked past the counter and out the door. He paused in the doorway as the viciousness of the storm collided with him.

The air was sparking with energy. Even though he stood safely in the shelter of the eve, Chen could feel the buzz  emitted from the storm. He might’ve remained there, soaking in the pool of energy leaking from the storm if it hadn’t been for the appearance of a few chattering girls.   

He stepped into the rain and tasted the energy directly. As he walked, the rain soaked into his clothes. Its vim sank into his bones, filling up the hollowness of his marrow. The storm sang around him, pounding its beat into the concrete surfaces of the city. It was a beautiful song so filled of the promise for destruction that was unmarred by the prattle of humans. The blissfully empty roads allowed the sound to echo, resonating as it bounced back into Chen’s body. It was as if he was a battery and the storm was his charger. He continued in the silence of the storm, allowing the flows of energy to steer his path. Becoming one with the storm, Chen wandered the vacant city.

It was the meowing, meek and lonely, that drew him out of his trance. Chen paused and looked around him. Through the curtain of rain, he saw very little. A few buildings stood, beaten by  time, barely withstood the onslaught of the storm. He was in a border district between aged stores and warehouses.

Once more came that barely audible cry for help. Chen squinted his eyes and searched for its source. Beneath one of the buildings was a box bend in from the dampness. Chen walked off the road towards it. Inside was a cat, barely a few months old, that was as chilled to the bone. Observing how the storm that revived him was leeching the life from this helpless creature, Chen stepped under the doorway.

Drawing the energy from the storm, he used his powers to warm it up. The tiny gray striped ball nibbled on his fingers weakly. Chen uses his thumb to its nose and wondered what cruel human had left it out to die. Although the kitten was warm, its breath was shallow and irregular. It meowed sporadically with its innocent voice. It would take more than a little heat to save its life, but Chen wasn’t made for that. He knew of death and how to invoke it but not the reverse.

Watching the rivers form in the street, Chen was met with a peculiar sight. A man carrying a red umbrella that was followed by nine cats of various colors. They headed in Chen’s direction, toward the warehouses. Perhaps feeling Chen’s gaze, the man turned around. He had a long face that was framed half way by an  black fringe. The rest of his hair was gathered in a small ponytail.

Followed by his group of cats, he walked closer. It was probably the strangeness of the event that allowed him so close to Chen without repercussions.

“Poor thing,” the man cooed.

His fingers tapped the small kitten in Chen’s arms. Turning its head ever so slightly, it rubbed itself into the man’s touch.

“Do you want to come with me?” he aimed the inquiry more toward the cat than Chen.  It purred in response.

The man finally looked up at Chen, “I’m Heechul. Follow me.”

The wiggling of the kitten, who seemed to have regained some of its life, encouraged Chen to join that man’s long line of cats. A few meters down, Heechul entered one of the beaten warehouses.

Inside was dry if nothing else. There were barrels scattered around the interior and a mattress or two lined the far wall. From experience, Chen knew this was a homeless hotspot. Heechul gestured at him with a blow drier in hand. From the corner of his eye, Chen noticed the illegally rigged outlet. After handing the kitten to Heechul, Chen kept to the wall. Cats roamed the interior, filling one of the beds. He might not hate cats, but he wasn’t the pet type.

“If this little guy lasts through the night,” Heechul commented, “she’ll be fine.”

“Hmm,” Chen jerked his head to the side.

“But what do you plan on doing with her?” Heechul asked, “She won’t survive beyond that night if she isn’t cared for. If you plan on abandoning her after this, it would’ve been better to have just left her out there. You’re just prolong her suffering this way.”

“What makes you think I can’t care for her?” Chen growled.

“You’re a stray,” he said, “like me. You don’t have that homely feeling pets have. Our sort has a hard time caring for others especially those that are weaker than us.”    

Heechul paused, “ I would take her in, but she’s too young. She can’t fend for herself yet; my friends and I don’t have the time to keep an eye on her.”

There were several purs of agreement that drowned  the kitten’s low meows.

“I’ll find someone,” Chen hissed.

He didn’t take to Heechul’s jabs at his competence or maybe it was frustration. Heechul was right; he couldn’t care for a pet even if he wanted to. All he knew was destruction; nuture was a foreign concept to him. Something that would be more familiar to  Xiumin or even that human, Lay.

He would have to find someone if this kitten was still alive in the morning. He wondered, suddenly, why he’d saved the damn thing. It was too late now that he took responsibility for its life.

“Good,” Heechul nodded, “you can take one of the beds. Let’s see if this girl can tough it out.”

Heechul placed the small thing in the sea of cats that took control of the bed. Watching the elder cats surround the younger, Chen moved toward the other mattress. This wasn’t the worse condition that he’d slept in.  

A/N: I apologize for not updating last week but I had a hard time writing this chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter - comments and criticisms are welcomed.