The rest of the day passed surprisingly quickly. At some point, Chan had decided to attach himself to Minghao and voluntarily became his own personal tour guide. The younger boy pretty much just dragged Minghao around the house, room to room, while explaining everything he needed to know to the Chinese boy.

The rest of the day passed surprisingly quickly. At some point, Chan had decided to attach himself to Minghao and voluntarily became his own personal tour guide. The younger boy pretty much just dragged Minghao around the house, room to room, while explaining everything he needed to know to the Chinese boy.

“You probably know this already but Seungcheol hyung’s our leader,” Chan commented as the two boys lain lazily on the sofa, their heads close together.

Chan had successfully given Minghao a tour of the house and with added commentary to boot (“don’t ever go inside Jihoon hyung’s bedroom without permission” and “don’t freak out if you hear weird noises coming from Wonwoo hyung’s bedroom”) which Minghao had diligently took note.

“Because he has the most experience,” Minghao guessed hazardly and Chan nodded his head energetically.

“And also because he’s the only one willing to.” The younger boy added with a laugh. “He’s the oldest and everyone looks up to him, too, so he accepted the position without much fuss.”

“He takes his job really seriously, too.” Minghao muttered under his breath, remembering his earlier conversation with Junhui. The more he knew about Seungcheol, the more Minghao respected and admired him. He’s in charge of twelve boys — twelve boys that he is only a few years older.

“So, Seungcheol hyung’s our leader but Jihoon hyung’s our trainer.” Chan continued, having not heard Minghao’s mumbles.

Minghao’s interest were piqued by the mention of a ‘trainer’. Tilting his head to look at Chan curiously, the Chinese boy asked, “trainer? Why do we need a trainer?”

Chan turned to face Minghao as well, “so that we can learn how to use our superpowers.” He paused before continuing, “you were afraid of not being able to use your superpowers, right? That’s where Jihoon hyung comes in.”

“He’ll help me?” Minghao eagerly asked, hopeful.

Chan nodded, equally eager. “Of course, he will. Why wouldn’t he?”

“Erm,” Minghao uttered, frowning awkwardly, as he thought back to Jihoon’s aloof exterior from earlier in the afternoon. “Well. Actually, nothing.”

The black haired boy didn’t seemed to notice Minghao’s uncomfortableness. He sat up and stared down at Minghao, mistaking his frown to be one of worry. “If you’re worried about not being to use your superpowers, then don’t. Jihoon hyung’s really good.”

Minghao pushed himself up to a sitting position and stared at Chan, his face sincere. “I’ll take your word for it then.” He finally decided before smiling fondly. Then a thought occurred to him and he remarked, “I noticed that no one here ever used the word ‘mutant’ to refer to us but the other day, those men, they called me a mutant.”

Laughing, Chan explained, “they only called us mutants because that’s the closest thing they associate with us.”

“So, we’re not mutants, right?” Minghao double checked carefully. Because that’s just a nicer word for freaks and I don’t want to be one.

Chan peered curiously at Minghao, as if puzzled by his insistence, before answering. “No, we’re not. At least, we don’t refer to ourselves as mutants. Like Seungcheol hyung always says, we’re just born this way.”

“Okay,” Minghao smiled, convinced, even though there was a nagging feeling at the back of his mind. “We were born with superpowers.”

Dinner was a quick affair with Soonyoung cooking instant ramen for everyone with a gigantic pot and fifteen packets of ramen. Once again, Minghao wondered how did the boys afford everything considering their large food expenses and their living quarters, which were quite extravagant and way out of the boys’ budget.

It can’t be cheap, the Chinese boy frowned as he watched everyone slurp their noodles noisily. Everyone were just seated randomly in the living room, the one without the entrance, which Minghao had learnt that they called it the recreational room.

Later, the thirteen of them scattered to different places and Minghao noticed Junhui walking towards the kitchen with an annoyed expression, holding two bowls in each hand.

I should help him. It was, after all, my fault, Minghao ultimately decided with a sign, his conscience pricked. Reluctantly, Minghao forced himself to stand up and follow the older Chinese boy.

“Just put it in the sink,” Junhui ordered, without turning his back as he tied the apron around his waist.

Awkwardly, Minghao let his eyes dart around the kitchen before he finally spotted another apron hanging on a hook. As he approached the sink, Minghao grabbed the apron and then deposited his used bowl inside the sink. Trying to look over his shoulder (and failing), Minghao’s fingers d blindly behind him as he attempted to tie the apron.

“Why are you still —” Junhui stopped his question abruptly as he finally glanced at Minghao fumbling with his apron, a confused look on his face.

Noticing the silence, Minghao snapped his head up to meet Junhui’s eyes as he flushed in embarrassment. “A little help would be nice,” Minghao squeaked in sheepishness.

Sighing loudly, as if to make a point, Junhui gestured with his hand for Minghao to turn around which the younger did without complaint. Deftly, Junhui tied a tight knot behind Minghao and the latter squirmed ever so slightly at the sensation of the older’s fingers at his lower back.

“What do I do?” Minghao asked, once he turned back to face the sink.

Junhui ed a wet sponge at Minghao, instructing, “you soap and I wash.”

“Erm, sure.” Minghao took the soapy sponge gingerly, eying it with undisguised suspicion.

I never realized that I have never done the dishes. It was always Mom — Minghao stopped himself all of the sudden, refusing to let himself think of his parents lest the waterworks start again. Despite himself, Minghao felt his eyes tear up ever so slightly.

Out of the blue, the wet sponge was snatched out of Minghao’s hand as Junhui shoved him slightly to the left. Without looking at Minghao, Junhui curtly dicated, “I’ll soap and you’ll wash.” He scrutinized Minghao before checking, “you know how to wash dishes, right?”

“Of course, I know!” Minghao huffly retorted, glaring at the older. He’s back to his cold and stony self again. The blond boy noticed as he received a soaped bowl.

For the next few moments, silence descended between the two Chinese boys as they soaped and washed the dishes respectively. From time to time, Minghao would glance at Junhui before hastily looking back down at the dishes. His mouth would open, as if he was about to speak, but then he would always close it and remain silent.

“Spit it, kid.” Junhui eventually commanded, after he caught Minghao for the third time.

“First of all, I’m not a kid.” Minghao began hotly before he lowered his voice meekly, asking, “so, what now?”

Junhui was intrigued by the unexpected question. His hands not stopping, Junhui pried further, “what do you mean, ‘what now’?”

Minghao shrugged his shoulders in mild confusion as he chose his words carefully, “like, what happens to me now? Do I just stay here with you guys for the rest of my life?”

“That’s the idea,” Junhui affirmed without any hint of sympathy.

“But that’s like — I’m forever trapped.” Minghao blurted out without considering. He faced Junhui, a small amount of fear evident in his eyes. “You guys are forever hiding from the organization, always being afraid of being caught and I don’t want that.”

Junhui put down the bowl he was holding, his eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you already understood, Minghao. We hide because we don’t want to be used as weapons. It’s that simple, why can’t you understand —”

“I understand, I really do!” Minghao insisted hastily, cutting the older mid sentence, before finally exclaiming, “I just think that it’s so unfair to us. It’s so unfair that we always have to hide and I hate it.”

“Life isn’t fair, Minghao.” Junhui simply answered, picking up the bowl again. He casted Minghao a look. “I thought that was already drummed into your head.”

Minghao opened his mouth again before shutting it gloomily. A second passed before he scowled. “Can’t I just complain a bit?”

“No, you can’t.” Junhui admonished, flicking soapy water at the younger. He stared at Minghao straight in the eye as he advised, “you have to accept it and move on. Like what we all did.”

“Did you?” Minghao unexpectedly inquired. “Move on, I mean?”

It took Junhui a mome