Chen groaned. From the way his joints protested, he must’ve spent the night on chipped bench. The early morning dew that clung to his flesh reinforced that observation. The last item he recalled was leaving the Minute Cafe. The remains of anger simmered in his blood even that wretched bastard of a demigod was attempting to meddle in his affairs.

Taking in a deep breath, the awfulness of his scent struck his nose harshly. He hadn’t showered at Minute so the last time he was clean had to have been  the day before yesterday. Brushing his fringe from his face, the oily discharge confirmed that theory. He was dirty. He was no stranger the grittiness of dirt and bodily grime living on the streets. His skin itched from the memories of dried sweat and caked crud forming a thin film over his body. The greasiness of a two-day build up of fleshly oils slung over his skin and through his hair wasn’t bad compared to that.Still,  that didn’t change the fact that he was filthy. Chen needed a bath and he needed one now.

He stood up, patting his pockets. The quick tactile scan of his body told him he had neither been robbed nor harmed during his slumber, which was a nice surprise he hadn’t expected considering his base surroundings. Perhaps he still carried a reputation in these parts despite his absence.

It was hard to tell the time from the cloudiness of the sky. Hopefully, it was late enough that a bathhouse had opened for business. Picking a direction, Chen walked to rid himself of the dirt that encrusted him. He needed to cleanse himself.

Time polished his ceramics. The whiteness of the embellished clay glowed under his touch. Despite the close sign sitting on his windowpane, two bodies occupied the interior of his store. Music sat at the counter, well-dressed in a classic charcoal suit. Disaster was spread out at a table, half-asleep.

Placing the cup on the table,  Time set up a filter. Pouring in the boiling water, he made a coffee. Ideally, he would always made his drinks this way, slowly and precisely, but the contemporary rush made that impossible. Everyone was always in a hurry; there was always somewhere to go to. Machines had become a necessary shortcut.     

Tipping his hand back, Time placed his kettle behind him. Although others preferred creamer or sugar in their coffee, he liked his black. He let the coffee sit for a moment before taking a sip. The unadulterated flavors of his roast coated his tongue in pleasure. There was a bitterness that  was offset by the nuttiness of the beans. It was after Time placed his morning cup on the counter did Music begin to speak. They were old friends so perhaps Music knew fruitlessness of speaking to Time before his morning brew.   

“It looks like the their side is beginning to act,” Music started, “they seem to be reaching out to those still unaligned.”

“And?” Time responded.

Music replied, “We should touch base ourselves.”

Time observed his friend and sighed, “I hope you’re not thinking of meeting here.”

“No, it’s too risky to gather here,” Music shook his head, lightly, “They know that you own it.”

Time started at Music suggested his inquiry in a pointed look. It wasn’t like Music to waste his time telling Time  this in person unless he had other business to attend to.  

“I wonder if you would be willing to take a more active role in our plans,” Music smiled.

The sweetness of his upturned lips made Music appear gentlemanly.  If Time hadn’t known Music as well as he did, then he wouldn’t be able see the dark gleam in Music’s eyes.

“I’d rather not,” Time answered.

Unlike the others in his pantheon, Time had no problem with their inevitable end. He felt no rue or frustration or despair. From his conception, he knew that all things came to an end whether it be through death or erosion. He was in no rush to be ablated; he would wait for its coming.

“I see,” Music sighed, “I trust that you will support our choices.”

Time tucked his head down in a sharp nod.     

Music smoothed out his impeccable posture and straightened his navy tie.  Disaster stirred behind him, probably listening offhandedly to their conversation. Time took another sip of his coffee.

They continued for awhile in amicable silence, before people appeared at the doorway. Glancing at the clock hanging from his wall, Time noticed it was nearly time to open the shop.

Music remarked, “It looks like that halfling aims to harass your workspace again.”

Time chuckled, “As long as he pays, it’s fine. It’s a good thing for you. If he focuses his attention here, it frees up you and the others to move.”

“Point taken,” Music smirked.

“You can take him up to the second floor, if he’s still out of it,” Time gestured to a small door behind him.

Music nodded, half-carrying Disaster through the doorway and up the stairs.

Dragging his hands through his damp hair, Chen detangled the short locks. He smiled slightly to himself. The oil had been cleaned from his hair. Glancing around the empty changing room, Chen reached in the dimensional gap that stored his backpack. Pulling out a pair of black-dyed jeans and a navy t-shirt, Chen shoved his dirty clothes inside. He grabbed underwear and socks from a side pocket. His fingers fumbled to unwind one of the balled up socks reveal a ball of bills. Chen hid his money once more in the sock once he pulled off a few thousand won. Dressed, Chen shoved the backpack into its storage space again.

He made a note to wash his clothes soon. Out of the eight shirts, five jeans, and two jackets he had, Chen had worn everything but the outfit now on his body. He wasn’t planning on donning earlier week’s filth the next time he showered.     

Now clean, Chen was in a rather good mood. Closing his eyes, he reinforced his mental shields to ensure that his spirit wouldn’t been damped by any accidental interactions with humans. Although he had been there the previous afternoon, Chen headed off to the Minute Cafe. It was one of the few places that he was guaranteed little to no contact with the human beings especially since the buzz around the cafe had been dying down recently.  

Chem hummed as he walked. The low vibrato in his throat would stop abruptly when he saw, Sehun through the paneling of the cafe. He continued past the Minute without thinking. He froze a half a block from the cafe when he realized that he was technically runnin away from the half-human runt. Glancing back, Chen rationalized that if he kept walking he would be able to make it to the other cafe he frequented. Since it was also near the laundromat, he could purify his clothes of the caked onto them. But that meant his was running away, his pride grumbled.

Chen growled before plopping his bum onto the sidewalk. He wasn’t sure who put the mutt up to it, but Sehun seemed to be meddling with his life. No one seemed to respect Chen’s right to quiet. The sound of a backfiring engine punctuated Chen’s thoughts.

“Hey, Kid, what are you doing here?” a vaguely familiar voice called out to Chen.

Looking to the left, Chen saw Heechul standing at the mouth of an alleyway. Chen craned his head to search for the avoid of cats that he had come to associate with the crazy, flower man.  

“They’re off,” Heechul gestured at his surrounding lightly.

“Not a kid,” Chen commented, leaning backward.

“You’re a kid,” Heechul stated, “A kitten knows better than to expose itself so obviously without watching its back.”

“ off,” Chen responded, annoyed.

The guy spoke to him in an overly forward matter despite the fact that they had only interacted once. Heechul had no right to scold him for sitting on the sidewalk.

“Fine, brat,” Heechul rolled his eyes, “Continue to be transparent.”

The weirdly dressed man walked pass him. A second later, Chen pushed himself off the pavement. He walked in the direction opposite of Heechul. Chen thought that his peace of mind was more important than a cup of coffee; also he could wash his clothes.

Since the storms had stopped, people had been flocking back to Time’s cafe. It was less than the initial flood of people but that was to be expected. Fads die down quickly. Beside the halfling, there was a horde of five to six chattering girls consuming mochas, a salary man on a coffee run for a meeting, and an elderly pair of regulars, he hadn’t seen in over a week, sipping black coffee out front.

The worker left as soon as Time handed him the order of twelve coffees. The impish demigod left his shop as soon as it was apparent Chen wasn’t arriving. With the flower boy absent, the giggling group of girls followed suit. A moment later, his acquaintances emerged from the back room. Music tipped a metaphorical hat as he exited the shop. Disaster  looked at him sheepishly before doing the same. His shop reached its normal state of nearly empty existence except for. . .

“You can come out now,” Time sighed.

The aesthetically attractive man peered out from the side room that Chen had borrowed several times in the pass. He would be plainly attractive if not for his manner of dress. He had on dark, skinny jeans scratched up near the bottom. His shirt had a printed animated woman from a cartoon that Time did not recognize. A red flower-patterned blazer sat on top of the tee. The clothes bordered disastrous and eccentrically fashionable.  That wasn’t the strangest outfit for the tomcat-like man.  

“Hey,” he grinned, flopping himself into a counter seat.

“Cream with a shot of espresso?” Time asked.

Normally, Time would’ve refused to make such a sad excuse for a beverage, but he had known this stray cat too long to pick at his tastes. Time would rather make a relatively presentable drink than watch Stray ruin an actual cup by dumping a pitcher of cream and pouring spoonfuls of sugar into carefully crafted shot of espresso. It was the lesser of two evils.  

“You know me so well,” his friend smirked. As Time brewed, Stray pulled out a 3D DS and started to play games.

“You know your plan to keep avoiding them won’t work forever,” Time stated.

Stray shrugged, “It’d work long enough for them to give up.”

“Maybe,” Time sighed, “they’re getting more persist of late.”

“They’re too serious with all this Lost Gods talk,” Stray frowned, “humans aren’t that bad.”

“Then, why have you been hanging around Chen?” Time inquired.

Raising his eyebrow, Stray questioned in return, “Do they know about that?”

Time shook his head.

“He had one of my kind,” Stray answered.

“I see,” Time replied out of reflex.  

Stray waved his game console as proof. After a drink of his frankenstein beverage, Stray continued whatever  game he been playing. Their conversation lapsed into the comfortable silence of two like minded companions.

Chen stopped in a nearby park once he had finished his laundry. He sunk into the yellowed grass under a tree. He sipped at the cup of joe that he had brought before leaving. It was sour, signalling burnt beans. With a sigh, he flicked the drink into the grass before tossing the cup into a bin a few trees away.

He called the place he sat a park but it was more of a ground for shady dealings. Sandwiched between an industrial area and a bad neighbor, only nearby families risked bring their kids here. Even then, mothers kept sharp accounts on their children. More than once, a kid had been injured by broken beer bottles or abandoned syringes. If a parent had the time to take out their child, they were better off taking a bus over to the next neighborhood for their park.

On the off-chance that someone impeded on his self-imposed isolation, Chen focused on strengthening his mental shields once more. Then he headed toward a bench to nap.    

“If you want that to work, you need to channel it both ways,” a voice suggested to Chen.

The source of the voice was of average height with fluffy, blond hair. The amicable smile on his lips reflected in the crescent moon shape of his eyes. His rounded face complemented his expression well.

“What?” Chen responded. He couldn’t bring up his usual ire for busybodies.

“You’re trying to shield, right?” the man plopped onto the bench next to him.

Chen nodded.

“You’re only doing it one way,” the stranger clarified, “That is why you can’t tell that I’m a god but I noticed you were one half a few blocks ago.”  

Chen stared. His senses said that this man was no one, a completely unimportant beings; however, when Chen reached out with his supernatural sense, there was the trademark abyss stretching out before him. Making eye-contact, Chen verified that the stranger had the endless darkness guarding his mind. He was definitely a god from a different pantheon.

Noticing the look, the man explained, “When you create a barrier, there’s two ways: you keep yourself in or others out. It’s usually a good idea to be both offensive and defensive, so that other people can’t track you. Right now you’re like a one way mirror, you don’t see anyone on the other side but people can see you from there.”

“And you’re telling me this because?” Chen groaned.

“Sorry,” the stranger grinned, “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Onew. I just wanted to see who else was keeping out of the fray.”

Chen gave another questioning look.

“You know, the recent rise in tensions,” Onew blinked. He jerked his head toward the sky in a suggestive gesture.  

Vaguely, Chen recalled the microgen deity, Krystal. If he recalled correctly, she had mentioned something about two different sides. Then, he thought of the storms. It wasn’t so odd that there was a connection between to the two.

Chen groaned, “Oh, that. As long as they leave me alone, I’m fine. The most annoying thing recently is everyone trying to make me human-friendly.”

“They haven’t targeted you yet,” Onew tilted his head, “they will soon. Unless -”

Chen stopped listening to Onew as he focused on his mental barrier. Probing at it with his mind, he thought of Onew’s explanation. The psychic barrier was a electric film that encased his thoughts. The energy field was a corral that bound his mind inside the confines of his brain. Now Chen turned his attention to guarding his mind, to keep others out as he held himself in. He felt the buzz of energy solidifying. His shield was heavier and oblique. Barbed wire formed on the outside of his spiritual enclosure, forbidding any foreign bodies from entering. When Chen had tuned back into Onew’s chatter, he heard the suggestion that he pretend to get along with humans.

“Why the hell would I do that?” Chen hissed.

Onew paused, “You interact with them on your terms, as little as you want, and it keeps your friends off your back.”

Chen wouldn’t exactly call Xiumin a friend, but considering how his elder was Onew’s plan might just work. At the very least, it’d keep Xiumin off-beat enough to pull back  and observe.  

“Thanks, I think,” Chen replied. He wasn’t exactly sure it he wanted to even pretend to get along with humans even if it gave him some peace and quiet.

“You’re welcome,” Onew laughed, “you might want to be careful though. You’re being watched by both divisions. They want to see which side you’ll fall on. If you’re like me, you’ll keep trying to balance in the middle for as long as you can.”

Chen didn’t hear the last bit as he left. He had to consider the idea of Onew’s suggestion more in depth plus he was hungry. Since the weather seemed calm, that met consuming human food.

Disaster shut his eyes and focused on the buzz of the earth. The skys hummed softly, glad for their rest. The air was a note higher, an “A” sharp, demanding more attention. He played along on his violin, lazily. Using his fingers instead of the bow, he plucked at the strings. Although he could not feel it, Disaster experienced the gale rushing outside the warehouse walls. A harsh wind, it was not the catastrophe or even blight that Disaster desired to play.  

Disaster was not like Music. Composition and sound were not innate to his nature. Unable to create melody from his mind, he could only play what he heard from the Earth. The only compelling songs he ever heard were of cataclysms. Volcanic eruptions, deadly tsunamis, shattering earthquakes, and such were his favorite pieces. Each one different yet frenziedly moving. These compositions shook Disaster to his roots as he rendered each into sound, threatening to vibrate  him to fragments.

There were times when Disaster thought he wouldn’t mind vanishing in this manner. To find a natural phenomenon so irresistible and so destructive that it would banish him in the process of performing, he considered to be a cause worth living for. His mark would be driven into the endless memory of the Earth. He would be the Fiddler that dared.

Glancing at the worn-out couch that he sat on, Disaster knew how his acquaintances would disapprove of his beliefs. He too felt loneliness when they died and knew they did not want to lose another. Still, he found that it was valuable to live vicariously rather than cautiously. Since there was no compelling natural disaster calling out for him, Disaster would stay here and help out with his friends’ plans. Not the bone-wrecking symphony that he dreamed of, their plans were a complex opera worth assisting, if it should succeed.

Finishing off the jajangmyeon plate, Chen debated whether to buy wrapped kimbap at the convenience store next  door to avoid having to speak to people his next meal. Although resturants more or less left him alone as he eat, he still had to talk to order his food. As he waited for his bill to come, Chen observed the restaurant. There was a couple in the booth diagonal to him, an uncle in the booth behind him, and a college student across him. The other booths close to him were empty. Chen directed his attention to the window. Cars speed past as normal. Students and adults cramped the sidewalks as they headed home from school and work like swarming ants heading to their tunnels.

A sharp hiss drew Chen’s attention back to the booth across from him. The dripping blood and frozen figure of the college student kept Chen’s gaze. A slightly deep cut in the left finger seemed to the source of the blood. The idiot, instead of applying pressure, was staring moronically at the blood oozing over his palms and onto the table. He was creating a mess.

What idiot didn’t know to put pressure on an injury? Chen thought.

The fool suddenly regained enough of his wit to realize that he was bleeding. His mouth formed a huge “o” as his hand began to tremble. His jerking caused blood to splatter around the booth creating a bigger mess.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Chen grabbed a handful of napkins from his table and headed over. Grabbing the idiot’s left hand, Chen wrapped the napkins around it. He reached for the imbecile’s other hand and held those around the cut finger.

“Hold that tight,” Chen ordered.

Then Chen leaned over to press the button to call a restaurant worker over.When a worker came over, Chen ignored her look of horror.

“You’re going to need to clean this up,” Chen commented.

He gestured at the small pool of blood surrounded by splatters of the same. Chen ripped out more napkins and handed them to the moron to place over his cut.

“You might want to get him his bill while you’re at it,” Chen added.

The paleness of the moron's face suggested that he wasn’t eating any time soon.

“I already paid,” the imbecile coughed. His voice was remotely familiar.

“Good,” Chen answered.

He walked over to his own table and shoved the appropriate amount of bills into the sleeve. Not caring about the change, Chen headed back over to the twit before the remarkably brainless man  passed out from the sight of his own blood.

“Get up,” Chen grabbed the guy by the arm.

Dragging him next door, Chen pulled disinfectant, a water bottle,  and band-aids from the convenience store’s shelves and paid for them quickly.  

“Let go,” Chen directed.

Careful not to touch the dolt’s blood, in case stupidity was contagious, Chen pulled off the blood soaked napkins. He threw them into the now empty convenience shop bag. Blood still dripped from the index finger. From experience, Chen poured the water onto the cut to clean out dried blood covering the moron’s palm. Pulling napkins from his pocket, Chen dried off the hand. He pulled out another napkin and pressed it against the blood beading at the cut.

“Hold it tight for a second,” Chen ordered, guiding the dolt’s left hand over the folded napkin.

Cracking open the disinfectant, Chen soaked a new napkin in it.

“Okay, let go,” Chen commanded.

Wiping over the wound, Chen threw the napkin into the bag. He quickly pulled out a band-aid and wrapped it snugly around the injury point.

“Here,” Chen held the disinfectant and box of band-aids toward the dolt.

“Thank you, Chen,” the voice replied, calmer.

Chen looked up, observing the dunce’s face.

“You’re Luhan, one of the people that took Orange in,” Chen responded with surprise.

He hadn’t realize that he left the kitten in the hands of someone that lacked the common sense to put pressure on a cut. Even a child knew, that one had to hold their injury.

“Yeah, so what do I do?” Luhan gestured at the box, “I’ve never bled this much before. Do I need stitches?”

Suddenly remembering Onew’s suggestion to fake friendship, Chen bit back a sarcastic remark.  

Chen shook his head, “It’s not deep enough to need stitches. Fingers and toes always bleed a lot just switch band-aids every two hours or so until the cut is gone.”

“Sorry, you had to see me like that,” Luhan laughed, “do you want a drink or something? I can paid you back for this stuff if you want.”

“It’s fine,” Chen replied, “but can you show me Orange some time? I miss the little girl.”

“Sure,” Luhan grinned, “What’s your phone number? I’m busy tomorrow but you can visit her the day after.”

After Chen rattled off his number, Luhan promised to text him when there was time to see Orange. Then, he thanked Chen again. Seconds after Luhan left, Chen received a text: This is Luhan so you have my number.

Closing his flip phone, Chen hoped that pretending to be friends with humans wouldn’t drive him mad.

A/N: This was a rather long update this time 3.8k words. I hope you guys enjoyed it.It looks like things are starting to get more exciting.