Yixing is more than the nurse the Academy paints him as, Jongdae knows, can feel it in the brush of fingers over the latest burn Chanyeol delivered him when he got clumsy, distracted, and forgot about the spar taking place.  The soothing touch of Suho's calm waves could never compare to the cooling touch of Xiumin's frost, and neither could ever come close to the Fatherly touch of Yixing's healing hands. 

"You need to be more careful," Yixing scolded, eyes focused on the charred skin slowly returning to a normal shade of tan, the itch of pain dimming to nothing more than a small sting.  "I keep telling you, just because Chanyeol plays dumb doesn't mean he takes it easy in the ring.  What if he was an enemy?  What if he wasn't your classmate?" Well, I wouldn't get distracted if he was, now would I? 

But Jongdae chose to keep the snide thoughts to himself, as it was, he could see Luhan's lips upturning at the corner to a smirk, no doubt having heard the snide remark like he had said it aloud.  Sadly, Yixing also noticed the smile, turning a frown to Jongdae with the contempt of a mom scorned once too many. 

"You're making smart retorts in your head again, aren't you?" He sighed before Jongdae could even deny the accusation, shaking his head and dropping his fully healed arm back onto Jongdae's lap.  "You two are laughing now, but you don't know what a real battle is like.  You only know the rules and evaluations of the sparring room, and believe me, Suho is fair compared to what I've seen." 

That's right.  Jongdae and the rest tended to forget, but Yixing wasn't an original of their academy.  He wasn't some student who was shipped here when he came of age, displaying the powers of individuals gifted with Mana or Arkana.  

He had come here battered and bruised, inches from death and trying desperately to heal whatever wounds he could before the darkness begot him.  Jongdae still remembered the day clear as if it happened not minutes ago, of the sight of the black haired healer stumbling onto the grounds and crumbling into a heap of blood and scars, fingers glittering like stars twinkling in the night sky, eyes narrowed slits of pain and fear.  He remembered the blood splattered in his hair, strands of red tinted black clinging to his forehead in the wake of sweat; the tear tracks running down dirtied cheeks, leaving grey streaks of mud and destruction.   

But he remembered best the gentle touch of the man, the way calloused hands--weathered and worn from intense battle training and expertise--ghosted down his arm, weak fingers feathering a grip on his skin that slipped with the fatigue and exhaustion of someone beyond help. 

"He'll be dead by the morning," he recalled Kris saying, his authoritarian voice regretful but final.  The Dragon tamer knew about these things, about stragglers coming and going, and Jongdae had remembered watching how his eyes softened at the sight of the battered healer, the sight of the asset lost to a battle just outside their borders. "You nine aren't ready for a battle, yet.  Close the gates, make sure no more get in like this one."

Yixing didn't die, though.  

He didn't become a mere tombstone on the grounds of the ever prestigious Academy or a corpse festering in the ferns growing in and out of his body. 

He stumbled in the same way he had stumbled onto the ground--with lots of suspicion and the same friendly smile. 

"I still don't get why you won't tell us about what happened," Jongdae brought up, eyes imploring and curiosity abound.  The normally fluid and unshatterable demeanor of Zhang Yixing hardened into a rigid, tense guard, eyes hard as black diamonds and expression unreadable.  This was how he always reacted when Jongdae tried to bring up the past.  Even after two years, the events of that day were still a mystery--even to Kris and Suho. 

Instead of answering, like always, Yixing just patted Jongdae's recently healed arm and stood up, back rigid and shoulders tense.  "There, your arm is going to be a bit sensitive for a while, but that should wear off in a couple of hours.  If it doesn't, or you decide to hurt it again, just come back to me, I'll try to heal it better."  Jongdae wanted to call him on his attempt to dodge the subject, wanted to beg and plead for a story no one else knew. 

But he also knew better, and he knew that the sensitivity in his arm would be gone in minutes, that the scar tissue would disappear by morning, replaced by cells regenerated once again by their famous and complex healer.  

He could ask all the questions he wanted, could guess at every possibility there was, but the only things he could seek out were trust and understanding--two things that Yixing didn't give just anyone, not even Suho or Kris. 

So, instead of prying, he just offered a small smile and a soft pat on the back.  "Thanks again, Xing!" And walked off, knowing he had long overstayed his welcome. 

"Well," Luhan whispered as soon as the doors parted and they were out of the medical ward, "that was eventful.  I thought for a second he was going to snap your wrist."  Jongdae just shrugged and looked at Luhan, eyes serious and searching. 

"Do you know what happened?  Could you read his mind?" There was another sign in retort to his inquiring, a roll of bored eyes as Luhan flicked his wrist and opened the next door before they were even in reach of the automatic sensors.  

"Even if I could read his thoughts, which I already told you I can't, do you really think I would tell you?" He crossed his arms and subtly moved his head just before Jongdae heard the door close behind them.  "A man's secrets are his to tell, not mine.  I'm just glad that we have a healer, now."  He was right about that. 

Jongdae remembered the first days after his arrival, the agonizing weeks where he tried to wrap his mind around the circumstances of his new found powers, the reasons for their subsequent foundation.  The first time he had gotten mad and his fingers had sparked electricity, that had been a mere wake up call to the time he had got himself off to the some dirty show past midnight and with a rush of electricity that short-circuited the house for a week.  

He had been scared, worried, unnerved, terrified.  He grew up thinking he was normal, just like everyone else, and then one day he was so drastically different that he couldn't even enjoy the splendors of normal adolescence--the of fingers running over the curve of spine made him go off like a Tesla coil, the brush of lips over the sensitive skin of his neck could rain lightning down on the earth, and the briefest of words, the barest of "I love yous" could have a light bulb shattering overhead.  

He knew better now than to think that he was a demon.  He had learned to control the electricity, how to harness the lightning and how to keep it hidden in the fabric of his cells, stored and potent for a moment when he might actually have to use it.  Mind you, if someone dared make him angry enough to lose his cool, it was very lightly he could become a generator himself, shooting sparks from any inch of his body that wasn't covered in the protective gear he sported to absorb more of the aftershocks of his dangerous power. 

A healer had been just what he needed then, someone who could heal the discolored scar tissue running down Baekhyun's back or the severe burns that Suho had sported after he stumbled upon another unintentional incident with Jongin--one that started in surprise and ended with the teleporter and Suho confined to the hospital for two weeks.  Where was the person to call when Baekhyun had blinded Kyungsoo in one eye, a once brown orb that now stood in contrast to the handsomely dark features of his hair as a pale, unseeing white.  Where was the healer to consult when Xiumin lost his cool around Kris that one time and nearly had him frozen in hypothermia?  

Where was the healer to hold their hands and get them through the horrors of war, a battle that was always approaching but somehow avoided time and time again.  But one day, it would arrive and there was no one to turn to in times of danger, no backbone to say they had your back when the call to arms sounded in the night.  

Yixing was a blessing, then, but they already knew that.  

Jongdae groaned, pushing back his black hair and looking up at the ceiling.  "I just want to know!" He complained, earning a little laugh from Luhan. 

"Why are you so intent on him?  If I didn't know better, I'd think you had a crush on him." But they all knew better.  Jongdae had seen crushes and he knew they got the name from their devastating impact--the way they crushed the person harboring them.  He had seen crushes stomp on Sehun's childish demeanor and Tao's smile, seen the way it crushed the light in Jongin's once bright smile and brought out the darkness in Kai's leers. 

Crushes weren't for Jongdae, especially not if it was for the ever oblivious and all knowing Zhang Yixing. 

"I just hate not knowing, you know?  It must be a really painful memory, right?  It's bad to bottle things like that up, it hurts more than it helps, and what if it comes back to haunt him?  What if there's more to it than just a couple of bruises and broken bones?  What if, unlike us, his initiation was more traumatizing?  A memory like that could break him..." His voice was sincere, his fears real.  

Because Jongdae could still recall the look on his mother's face when she watched him step out into a storm weeks after the first sparks, the way she stared in horror as his eyes glowed that supernatural green, lighting up with the crash of thunder and that blinding light that set his body on fire with energy, with sparks so beautiful and tingling, like tickles all over, vibrating through him with a power that was out of this world.  And the one who had raised him, the mother who had kissed his boo-boos and all the cuts and scrapes, had just stared and ran, ran as far as her mortal legs would take her. 

"Yixing's stronger than you think," Luhan reminded him, opening another door with nothing more than a blink of his eyes.  "One little memory won't be the end of him, he can handle it." 

"But what if he can't?"  Despite the worry rising in Jongdae's whine, Luhan just rolled his eyes and continued on through the establishment, nearly shutting the door on his friend.  

"For all of our sakes, let's just hope he can." The Telepath responded with a voice as thick as steel, turning down a hallway towards the right hangar and far from the quandaries of Jongdae's overactive imagination.  

And just like before, like every time Jongdae put himself out on a limb, he was met with nothing but the silence of an empty corridor and the path he walked alone. 

***

It was another day of matches, another spar, another day of training that had Jongdae so pumped full of energy.  Unlike most days where they spent these few hours locked inside the stuffy gym constructed for the sole intention of deadly spars, today Suho had decided that it was better to brave the elements for the couple of matches him and Kris had decided on.   Normally, the idea of trying to fight against someone in the chilly morning air would've been more a hassle than Jongdae wished to admit, but today was different. 

It had been a while since he felt the refreshing drip drop of raindrops hitting his skin, the pound of a downpour washing away the heat of the last few days and bringing a sense of life to the overgrown weeds of the fields.  And with the wetness of the rainy season, the haze of clouds hanging overhead, Jongdae felt the spark and excitement of his power reaching a critical state, a buzz that had a smile permanent on his face even as his long bangs nearly covered his eyes and his clothes clung to every inch of him like a heavy second skin. 

At least the rain empowered him, unlike the drenched flames of Chanyeol's normally wide smile and the shivering Jongin, his alter ego and fighting half hiding from the thick drops raining down from the clouds above.  The hum of a thunderstorm hung on the horizon, a constant reminder that Jongdae had the advantage today.  But not everyone was as amused or weakened as Chanyeol and Kris.  Unlike them, Tao was stopping the rain from even hitting him, his bubble of stopped time acting as a shield that distilled the effects of the otherwise comforting moisture. 

"Well, I guess today might not have been the best day to schedule an outdoor training mission, but we cannot choose the weather.  When our enemies attack, we'll be at the mercy of cloudy days or blistering heat.  It's ideal that we learn how to team up and use our advantages in the best ways we can, but we also must learn how to fight other strengths.  And so, in today's lesson, all of us will be sparring against Jongdae." The news, of course, came as a shock. 

"Umm, wait," Jongdae interjected, the hum of electricity raging in his body distilled by a bit of shock, "what do you mean all of you will be sparring against me?" Suho smirked. 

"Well, you are more powerful in the rain, let alone with the promise of a thunderstorm buzzing in the air. This is a good chance for us to see just how strong your powers can be before we have to face them on the field from someone not one of us." Jongdae snorted. 

"I feel like this is some kind of grudge coming back to bite me in the ..." he retorted, sass coming out full force in the knowledge that if Suho really pissed him off enough, he could just light him up like a ing Christmas tree.  

"It's nothing personal," Suho informed.  "If we were in a arid desert, then I'd force you all to fight against Chanyeol, and if Tao ever gave me access to a chamber with anti-time effects, I'd let you all fight him in it. But today, you get to be the first of the new rank of challenges in our arsenal of training strategies.  After all," and he smirked with that infuriating smile of his, "experience is the best way to learn, right?" 

"Umm, I object to this practice!" Baekhyun dared throw out there, ducking suddenly as thunder crashed overhead and the first spark of lightning threatened to come flashing down from the sky.  Jongdae couldn't help a wide smile, shivering with excitement, every part of him aroused with the energy swirling in the pit of his core.  This was his element, the energy that swirled in the cells of his blood and burned with the desire to be unleashed, to mingle with the drops and connect them in a swaying dance to be the first to touch down, to spread over the fractured soil and return life to the planet in a light so bright it outshined even the brightest of stars.  

"Too bad," Kris warned with bare indifference, already astride atop his most precious friend--his Gold Dragon, Ace--and ready for battle.  "Stop being a scaredy-cat and prepare yourself."

"And don't worry," Suho offered up, "if Jongdae gets any of you too good, we always have Yixing here to heal you."  The words didn't seem to bring relief to any of their eyes, but that could've been because they knew that Jongdae was a formidable opponent, with or without a storm to back him. 

However, the thrill of battle was a stronger pull to their cores than the threat of danger, a signal to him that danger still prowled on the horizon, mixed up in the tension that awaited the first big bolt of electricity.  And while he waited for that, he had eight other people to fend off, given that Suho and Kris didn't decide to join in the challenge, too.  Not that he figured he’d have to wait long, mind you.  He could practically smell the faint burn of electricity in the clouds, the energy swirling overhead and reacting to the power dancing in the pit of his stomach.

“Are you ready?” Suho called, stepping back from the field and giving all the trainees room to safely power up.  “Begin!”

The signal came with a fright, the quick and ferocious speed of Kyungsoo, enabled by the powers of a beast.   Despite the pouring rain, his dark hair stood on end, muscles pulsing with the superhuman strength he boasted in Chaos Form—body hunched and breath coming in growls as terrifying as if a real bear had been standing right in front of him.  Each snarl came out in a puff of white smoke that dissolved into more droplets of water that pooled off the claws extended out of his fingers.  Fangs were bared in threat, his one blind eye pale in contrast to the darkness of the clouds hanging in the atmosphere. 

Of all the opponents Jongdae didn’t want to face all at once, Kyungsoo was one of the worst to stare down first.  It wasn’t just his strength that scared him, it was also how ruthless and brutal he could be.  His Chaos Form was built off of instinct, mainly to survive, and anyone that stood in front of this beast was a challenger, a potential threat that had to be eliminated.  Add to that the threat of the strategic Kai popping up right behind him and you had a duo who were formed out of sheer brawn and brilliance, a threat to Jongdae’s strength right from the beginning.

He dodged a strike from Kyungsoo with a parry to the side, just barely ducking away from the punch of the teleporter, dropping his body to the ground as Kai disappeared and reappeared in a puff of black smoke with a kick that could’ve sent him flying.  Electricity shuddered in his palms, but he willed it back for now, blinking back the unnatural green tint of his eyes and pushing up to a run.   He dashed out of the way of another attempted tackle, quickly countering with an elbow to the gut that had Kyungsoo momentarily stunned in his pursuit.  He counted himself lucky, willing his heart to slow its pace as Kai once again came into existence before him in a flurry of hits that he blocked with the unnatural grace and speed of a seasoned foe.

He calmed his hurried breathing and sent a kick to Kai’s chest, pushing him back into a cloud of black and giving him momentary relief.  It lasted as long as it took for Chanyeol to rush in front of him, fists free of burning fire and limited to his human strength for the fight ahead.  But as skilled as he was at using his power was as skilled as he was at hand to hand combat, used to sparring with Kris in the late hours and the play fights he used to enjoy with Kyungsoo.  Despite his limitations, he was a fierce opponent that didn’t lack the mentality of treating this seriously.  And even as Chanyeol smirked at him and swung one long leg at his head—an attack dodged in the single wasted breath of surprise—he was unable to predict the low kick he spun into him, clipping him in the cheek and sprawling Jongdae on his back, stunned and dazed for a second.

He recovered quickly out of necessity, taking a harsh breath and hardly getting a second to wipe the blood off the corner of his lips before Kyungsoo was on him again with a renewed vigor, paw like hands ripping at any part of him they can reach as a bark of a growl exits his lips, rippling through Jongdae’s being and momentarily stirring a boil of panic in his abdomen.  But as epinephrine flows out through his body and mingles with the sparks waiting to fly in the tips of his fingertips, the sweat pouring out of his body, he feels a renewal and a reversal on the horizon—a turn around that waits for the right moment. 

He feels the change in the air almost immediately, soaking it in with the drops of rain streaming down his face and mixing with the blood that spills from his mouth as Kyungsoo catches him with a fierce punch to the chest, dissolving the power bristling inside of him and leaving him open for a counter by Kai.  The energy webs in between each rain drop, linking them all in a staircase from heaven, descending down towards him like a billion tiny spiders crawling over his skin and burrowing with an itch that tickles and perturbs him, waiting for that spark that will ignite the sky and light his engine again, saving him from the onslaught of hits raining down on him from the combined forces of Kyungsoo and Kai.

And by the time Kai sends him flying with a kick to the stomach, when he tastes the metallic flow of blood on his tongue, he smells the buildup of his itch turning to a burn that bristles under his skin and stabs at him with so much energy and force he just can’t hold it back anymore. 

He sees Chanyeol and Kyungsoo coming at him, guided by the black streaks of Kai’s approach, just as his eyes close over the bright Neon green of his eyes and the sky lights up with a shock of energy so fierce and blinding that it halts their approach and seems to stall the world for just one moment.  And that’s all it takes, a second, before he feels all of that energy striking him in a hit so powerful, so exciting that he can’t help the scream that leaves his lungs, the cry of energy needing to be released and the burn of a fullness he can’t explain without analogies that get grotesque and aroused all at once.  Because he feels like he’s being split apart and pieced back together all at once, his cells destroyed and regenerated to such a strength that for a moment, he feels invincible, untouchable, and the only thing standing between him and victory is the distance it will take him to travel from his spot standing on the ground to the gaggle of fools halted before him.

When he opens his eyes, he sees the worry in their eyes, the fragments of a past forgotten in the moment of ecstatic exchange that always came with the threat of lightning on the horizon.  There was horror in their eyes, and admiration, an eye for beauty and the strength that he knew they could feel radiating off of him.

“And this is where the fun starts,” he spoke, crouching down, eyes glowing with that unnatural strength and preparing to end this battle quickly. 

Another crash of Thunder was his signal to go, sending him in a sprint of speed fast enough to rival his cousin in the skies, rushing at his opponents with the intent to maim and finish this sparring once and for all.  It was clear, in the struggle of Chanyeol’s normally cocky fists and the slippery hands of Kyungsoo’s clumsy grappling that his advantage had been found and employed in such a way that not even the normally stoic and prepared Kai was ready for the challenge of meeting one of his empowered kicks head-on. 

What he once believed would be a challenge he now looked at it in cocky glee, delivering a knee to Chanyeol’s throat and sending him right back into Kyungsoo’s tackle for a collision that clearly stunned them both.   He knew that with just one strike of electricity, he could knock them both unconscious, leave them steaming in the wake of the pouring rain and twitching in a hospital bed for the next few days.  But he had promised himself that he’d never make that mistake again, a promise he planned to keep even as Baekhyun took up his post in the battle.

The light user was already at a disadvantage due to the nature of his skill.  Like Yixing, he wasn’t one for fighting, more for guidance. With his powers, he could illuminate himself and his surroundings like a light bulb, but in the practical use of them, he didn’t have much to fall back on but the blinding fury he could release directly to the eyes, stunning an opponent and leaving them open and vulnerable.   Kyungsoo was evidence of how deadly Baekhyun could be, but he was also a reminder of how easy it was to dodge the use of such a power.  And in the shadows left behind by the storm clouds overhead, the only thing his Mana could be focused towards was providing a lamp to find Jongdae, not much else. 

That didn’t matter, though, seeing as how all o