Yerin was barely paying attention to Nada, who was rattling on about her sister’s impending marriage and her parents now putting the pressure on her to do the same. The strong rum and coke in front of Yerin was barely touched. Junmyeon’s session kept playing through her mind as she absentmindedly the raised scar on her wrist.

“Yerin, what are you doing?” Nada asked, stopping in the middle of her rant.

Yerin quickly pulled her sleeve down to cover the skin up to her palm. “Nothing. So, are you going to take a date to your sister’s wedding to make your parents happy?”

Nada gave her a pointed look, seeing right through her attempt to change the subject. But Nada didn’t push. “I’m not sure yet. Maybe I should take you and give them a momentary heart attack.”

“Ha, ha.” There was no enthusiasm in Yerin's voice. “I don’t like crowds. Especially crowds of people that I don’t know but who will certainly come up and talk to me anyway.”

“Fine,” Nada shrugged. “You’ll just be missing out on a great party. Indian weddings are wild.”

Yerin snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure they are.”

Nada finished off her beer and waved at the bartender to bring her a new one.

“So, how did your little therapy session go?”

Ugh. Part of Yerin was hoping that Nada wouldn’t ask. Nothing went wrong per se, Yerin just didn’t know how to connect the information together to make any sense about it.

“Pretty good,” she lied. “From his file, I didn’t expect too much. He’s never had a bad mark made against him. Model test subject.” Attitude dripped off her tongue with the last sentence. It was becoming a bit of a loose term.

“Unlike Eighty-Eight,” Nada teased. Yerin rolled her eyes in response. “Still, I’m jealous that I didn’t think of that first. Three years I’ve been there and I’ve still never seen any of them. Well, except for our gorgeous little runaway.”

Yerin stopped mid sip of her drink. “What makes you say that about how he looks?”

That mischievous little smile that Nada pulled off so well made an appearance. “I may have flirted my way into the security booth and got Jae to show me the lobby footage.” Nada put her fresh beer down and stared down at the floor, contemplating. “It was strange, though.”

“What was?”

She shook her head thoughtfully. “I watched it a couple times and, well, it really looked like he wasn’t going to hurt you. I mean, he wasn’t choking you or anything. More like hiding behind you.”

“That’s how it felt,” Yerin admitted. Everyone else was concerned about her safety, worried that she’d just had a brush with death. But that’s not what it was to Yerin and it was difficult voicing that opinion out loud. “He was strong, so there was no way I was getting out of his grip, but… it wasn’t forceful, you know what I mean? In fact, I think I was more scared of the security guards pointing their guns at us than I was of him.”

Nada seemed to understand. “I glanced over his disciplinary file. The notes all say that he’s one of the most aggressive out of the nine of them. But he seemed more like a cornered cub.” She smirked, taking away the seriousness that was looming in the air. “Anyway, I still think you’re a bit lucky. I haven’t seen a jawline like that since spring break of my junior year of college.”

Going along with the playful atmosphere Nada had created, Yerin balled up the wet napkin from under her drink and threw it at her. But she did have an epiphany. She knew which subject she would be interviewing next. If Junmyeon was the most well-behaved out of the nine of them, it was time to go the opposite direction. As a subtle thank you, Yerin paid for Nada drinks, which she gladly accepted without complaint or explanation.

**

Somehow, entering this cell was more difficult entering than Junmyeon’s. Yerin kept tellingherself over and over that Eighty-Eight wouldn’t hurt her unless she provoked him in some way. Which – considering she were about as threatening as a mouse – was highly unlikely. Unless he was secretly an elephant.

This particular orderly was much nicer than the other two she had met. He actually had a smile on his face, even if his eyes had showed signs of sleep deprivation. They exchanged brief hellos and then Yerin stepped into the room.

Eighty-Eight was curled up on his bed, his back facing the entrance. Harsh red lines almost the length of Yerin's forearm decorated his back.

Punishment for escaping?

Part of Yerin wanted to run forward and brush her fingers over the lashes, to try and sooth them the best she could. But she had to hold back. She couldn’t even explain why she felt such sympathy for all of them. Case studies like these were frowned upon and often shut down, but they weren’t exactly unheard of. They prepared all the students for these kinds of situations in her research classes, how to handle them. But none that Yerin knew of had gone this far. The patients still had an out they could utilize, someone on their side to help them leave. These boys didn’t have that option.

Trying to maintain at least some sort of professionalism, Yerin repeated the process of placing a chair by the bed as if this was just another afternoon in a real therapist’s office.

Eighty-Eight flinched at the sound of the metal scraping against the concrete floor, but still didn’t turn around.

“My name is Dr. Lee,” she said, hoping that might make him loosen up. Silence. “But you can call me Yerin.”

That did it. Or at least, did something.

Turning his head slightly so she could just barely see the almost black eyes, he stared over his shoulder.

“What you doing here?” he asked softly.

Yerin gave him a small smile. “I just want to talk.”

He turned back around, cutting off the eye contact. “About what?”

Opening up the file that claimed to know everything about the person lying on that bed, Yerin flipped over to the page that suggested that he was a monster.

“According to this, you’re overly aggressive which is blamed on your mixed DNA with both wolf breeds and cheetah breeds. You’ve sent four different security guards to the infirmary for extensive injuries. Here it has them listed as unprovoked.” She closed the file, tossing it to the side. “However, I don’t entirely believe that.”

The muscles in his back loosened. That was a good sign.

“Why not?” he challenged. “They all call me a monster, though they’re the ones who did this. You’re one of them, so why not just accept that I’m uncontrollable?”

“Because you didn’t hurt me that day in the lobby.”

In a movement so fast her slow eyes couldn’t catch it, Eighty-Eight was now sitting up face to face with her, his dark eyes full of torment.

“That was you?” His gaze shifted down to the floor in shame. “Are you okay?”

Yerin nodded. “I’m perfectly fine. You did nothing to me. It’s you I’m more worried.”

He ran his fingers through his already messy hair. The blond locks contrasted heavily with his Korean features, making them sharper. That kind of color couldn’t have been natural; possibly a side effect of the tampering, but Yerin couldn’t be sure. There were probably dozens of little side effects that were easily overlooked and not worth noting.

“I’ve been through worse,” he admitted. He still wouldn't look at her. “At least this time it was only a sedative.”

Yerin leaned forward, scared of what the answer to your next question would be. “What do you mean this time is at least a sedative?”

Eighty-Eight seemed more relaxed now as he sat cross-legged on the bed, his hands fidgeting in his lap, keeping his gaze. “Most of the time they use free-floating Tasers. They really enjoy those. One time, it was an actual bullet. They don’t really care as long as we’re not dead.”

She had a death grip on the pen in her hand. Her knuckles were pale, stretched tightly across the bone. Only going the cliché therapist route seemed to calm her down. “And how does that make you feel?”

He finally looked up at her, if only to give a look that questioned her sanity.

“Animals don’t have feelings,” he replied, almost like he’d been made to repeat it as a mantra.

“But you’re not an animal,” Yerin countered. “You’re a person. A person with a history and a name. What is your name?”

Before he could reply, a knock came from the window. The interruption was irritating, but it couldn’t be argued. “I’m sorry,” She whispered. She gathered up the file and left the room.

“The five minute warning came in,” the orderly explained once Yerin was back in the viewing room. “They’re coming to take him to the testing room.”

Her eyes flew to the poor soul in the cell, who had gone back to his sit-up fetal position on the bed, his back all she could see of him.

“Thank you.” She had to leave the room before she had a break down in front of the orderly.

Outside in the hallway, she leaned her back against the wall and tried to even her breathing. Checking to make sure no one was around, she pushed back the sleeves of her lab coat and sweater, running her thumb over her left wrist.

It was a habit Yerin had started in her therapy sessions as a teenager. Concentrating on the imperfection put her mind in focus and let her body reset itself back to its resting state. Apart from this little compulsion, she tried to keep the mark hidden away, whether by long-sleeved shirts or thick-banded watches. She didn’t care for the stares or questioning looks people gave and no one was brave enough to directly ask about it.

Dr. Kwon and Dr. Wang rounded the corner. Yerin straightened up.

“Dr. Lee!” Dr. Kwon greeted, his mustache crinkling as he smiled. “Back for another session?”

“Just finished one actually,” Yerin said after greeting them with a bow.

“And how are they going?” Dr. Wang asked. She was always all business and Yerin appreciated that. It kept her from prying too much.

“Swimmingly.”

“I’m surprised that you’ve been able to keep up with your lab work and the sessions so seamlessly,” Dr. Kwon pointed out.

“I’ve only done two sessions so far,” Yerin explained. She wanted to add that most of her lab work was putting the blood into different machines that did the mixing for her and then wait a few hours for the results of which she’d then copy into a spreadsheet, but it seemed too much effort to point that out.

Dr. Kwon put his badge up against the reader and Yerin wished that she had some reason to delay them, but she couldn’t find a valid excuse that wouldn’t be obvious. “Well, keep up the work. Once you’ve had your first sessions with all the subjects, I’d like to see the compiled report.”

“Absolutely.” Yerin would have to proof read it a hundred times to make sure her true personal opinion didn’t come through. Looking at her watch, she realized that there wasn't time for one more patient like she’d hoped. The best she could do was decided which one she would meet with tomorrow before finishing up the data entries and heading home.