Archive of Our Own ^beta

Kihyun is not normal by society's standards--he is a danger to himself and those around him, a disaster waiting to happen, declared legally human by a marginal vote so recently that protesters in front of city hall are still being interviewed on the news tonight. The text at the bottom of the screen reads: Public Concerns Over Mutant Safety Precautions Hit New High.

Hyunwoo's thumb hesitates over the power button on their remote control. "Not everybody feels that way," he says.

"Enough people do," Kihyun tells him. If they didn't, he wouldn't have to wake up to the same scroll on their television every morning reminding mutants to register with the local government's census. A hit list, Gunhee called it. The reason why Hoseok hasn't tried to pass security on public transit for a year, and why Kihyun has spent hours examining "normal" identification cards so he can learn how to disguise his own.

Hoseok shifts on the couch and starts to say just turn it off, but he's interrupted by a sudden power surge in the middle of one protester's complaints that nothing is being done. The screen goes black, the lights flash out, and the three of them are left sitting in the dark as sirens wail outside.

Kihyun watches smoke begin to rise from an apartment down the block and thinks that he can hear tomorrow's headlines already.

Anyone who demonstrates an aptitude toward abnormal behaviors or thoughts must be screened to determine how safe they are among the rest of society and assigned a number, the question of where they fall between one and four more important than a name; this is the way it has been since the Mutant Identification Act was passed and the blood tests during hospital visits began, prone to false positives but kept in place for the public's demand of "peace of mind.” Statistics have shown no false negatives, after all.

Hoseok takes a sip of his drink and sets it back down on the table, softly, no different from their usual time spent after a long week of exams and trying days at work. Today, though, he asks, "Who gets to decide what's abnormal?"

"Anyone who isn't us." Gunhee is leaning far enough back in his chair that it would topple over if he hadn't frozen himself mid-fall. "Because we're too dangerous to be able to use our heads, obviously."

"You're a danger to everyone, mutant or not," Jooheon remarks, and Gunhee replies with a quick not the point.

"It could be worse, I guess?" Seokwon says. "Screening doesn't hurt anyone. They screen for everything anymore."

"For diseases," Gunhee says, and then hisses, venomous, "We're not diseased, and we don't need to be tracked."

Kihyun thumbs at the condensation on his glass and is acutely aware of the weight of his wallet in his back pocket. His identification card permanently branded with a large red "3" remains concealed; Kihyun has never shown it to anyone else, too uncomfortable to flash it in the open, even to another mutant.

There's a moment, one night, after a long day in classes. Kihyun has just turned in a particularly long lab report to his microbiology professor explaining all of the reasons why mutations cannot be treated effectively with certain drugs, and he's relaxing with Jooheon and Gunhee and their small group of friends at the meeting house, and then Gunhee gets them started.

"What if," Gunhee asks, "mutants were actually allowed to use their mutations?"

"We are allowed," Kihyun says, and he takes a deep breath and tries not to consider why his class was researching mutation sensitivity in the first place. Mutation use in public is just shy of illegal, is the thing, in the way that pointing a gun at someone isn't the same as pulling the trigger.

Jooheon says, "As long as you hide it," and Kihyun knows exactly what he means; hiding is what Kihyun does every day.

Kihyun first met their group through Hyunwoo, who had suggested finding other mutants to befriend for support. They had just moved to the city, after all; making connections could help them in the future. Kihyun agreed to make connections, but for different reasons.

Mutant support meetings are surprisingly not government mandated--they are either discouraged or closely monitored, and have been ever since a few too many nonmutants became suspicious of what went on inside. Those carefully regulated official meetings are conducted by nonmutants only, security hovering at the edge so closely that it feels more like an interrogation.

Kihyun did not meet his friends at one of those gatherings.

Hyunwoo told him and Hoseok: I found a place. Kihyun never did learn how, but then Hyunwoo led them down a nondescript street to a house with no characteristics of importance, and Kihyun learned that this was the kind of location where mutants hide: in homes or behind locked doors, frozen solid from the inside; in empty spaces, invisible in plain sight; lost in some labyrinth of hallways that made people forget if they came too close. These places were where they hid their society within society, because they were constantly bombarded with the fact that they will always stay separate.

When Kihyun went inside the meeting house, he glanced around the area with other mutants, chatting and playing games and showing off how they use their abilities since the rest of the world wouldn't let them. There were only a handful of them, but Kihyun had never seen so many mutants in one place before, and he felt a familiar itch crawling under his skin and nagging at the back of his mind that told him he can bend the world.

"Hi," someone said as they approached. They sounded kind enough as they asked, "How's life?"

Kihyun said, honestly, "Suffocating," and didn't bother to add anything else.

During one of Kihyun's classes, sometime shortly after lighting their Bunsen burner, Changkyun asks him, "What is your major anyway?"

"Undecided," Kihyun lies. "Why?"

"Just curious," Changkyun says. "You take a lot of science courses for someone completely undecided."

Kihyun says, "You do, too," and tries to ignore the way one of his classmates across the room tenses--the one who Kihyun recognizes from their safe house as the person with heightened senses. They can hear a person walking a mile away.

"Growing fields and all that." Changkyun shrugs, casual. "So they say."

"Sciences are always evolving," Kihyun agrees, but he immediately regrets it when he accidentally makes eye contact with person across the room. It's the same kind of look his parents gave him when he was younger--the one always accompanied with the word don't.

He drops the subject and concentrates on the water in his beaker as he waits for it to boil.

"What you have to remember about mutations is that they can appear at any time. Their unpredictability is a big part of what makes them so dangerous," the physician guesting on the local news says. She's been invited to offer her professional opinion on growing concerns of mutant children in preschools. It's a topic that has gained new urgency, thanks to increasing reports of flying toys causing injuries to teachers and students.

"As if kids weren't unpredictable enough already," Kihyun mutters. He might have seemed dismissive if his lips hadn't been pulled so tight.

He's interrupted as the physician continues, "Professionals trained to handle these types of incidents should be available in all schools--not only the ones exclusive to mutants."

"Exclusive." Kihyun scoffs. "Like it's a privilege."

Hyunwoo shifts. "I think you're missing the point," he tells Kihyun.

For a moment, Kihyun considers the possibilities for so-called professionals in the classroom: always there, watching, waiting, ready to step in at any second without hesitation. He says, "No," and leaves the room before he starts thinking about how people plan to "handle" those situations.

Everyday, Kihyun's life is in a constant competition. It is always the nonmutants versus mutants, the normal versus the abnormal, the never ending struggle of dominance for some aspect of living to overtake the importance of the other. Ironically, more competition is what helps him find relief from the real world--Hyunwoo's suggestion of taking up basketball in his free time provides him the opportunity to safely relieve stress.

(Like a normal person, Kihyun had said when Hyunwoo brought it up. Hyunwoo had sighed and insisted that Kihyun was normal. It had been a nice gesture, but too easy for someone like Hyunwoo to say for it to carry any actual weight.)

"You should really learn how to pass," Minhyuk tells him while they're on the court one day. He dribbles a circle around Kihyun leisurely. "This is a team sport, after all."

"I will if other people start making baskets," Kihyun replies, but his mouth is curled up, a little.

"I'm insulted," Minhyuk says. "But I can tell you've had a weird day, so I'll let it slide."

Minhyuk passes the ball back to Kihyun, who dribbles it a few times, considering.

What Kihyun likes most about Kwangji is that even without using his mutation, he is fluent in nonverbal communication. Kwangji is a master in reading the language of tense shoulders, knees bouncing, fingers kept busy, and gazes fixated just a little too long.

"Let me guess," Kwangji says. "Contemplating life?"

Kihyun looks away from his drink and ceases making a circular motion with his straw. "You don't need to guess."

Kwangji hums, low and soft. "No," he says, "but this makes for better conversation."

People board the bus across the street as Kihyun watches and begins to play with his glass. They move so orderly as they swipe their public transport cards, careful not to pass so quickly that they cause an error in the scanner. Accidental false positives identifying nonmutants as mutants have been fixed since the machines have been further improved, but the issues left lingering concerns. Nobody wants to be confused for one of them.

Without really meaning to, Kihyun asks, "Do you remember what it's like to feel normal?"

Kwangji tells him, simply, "I feel normal now." And then he adds, "But I don't think that's the question you mean to ask."

Kihyun can't feel Kwangji's presence in his mind, but Kwangji is speaking like he's certain of something, and Kihyun is too reluctant to admit that he may be right.

Hoseok walks into Kihyun's room unannounced and says, "I can appreciate your effort to fit in, but this much studying can't be healthy."

Kihyun sighs, long and tired, and sets his binder to the side, his pen on his binder, and his head on the open page of his textbook that he hasn't been reading. "Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it."

Hoseok snorts. "You're the one who wanted to go back to school," he says. "Now you get to have just as much fun as everyone else."

There's an equation still in Kihyun's line of sight despite the awkward angle, and he fights the urge to let his mind play with the symbols on the page and turn them into something decipherable.

"You should come back." Kihyun adds, monotone, "Look at what you're missing."

"I had my fun," Hoseok tells him. "It doesn't look much different now."

Kihyun says, "Things have changed," on reflex, off-handed, before the flood of memories of school days when security gates hadn't been introduced, when he didn't need to follow some nonmutant like their shadow just in case, when he didn't have to bend the perception of everyone around to make them believe that the security light did not flash a bright, warning red every time he walked through.

"They have," Hoseok tells him, but Kihyun already knows.

Despite how hard Kihyun tries to keep life normal, peace remains fleeting. He has been living a quiet life for a while now, not out of desire but necessity. The change in the rest of the world since mutations came into existence has been rapid and disorienting and dangerous; the lifelong lessons and information Kihyun grew up learning in school had less to do with worldly knowledge and more to do with when and how to bite his tongue. This is why he has grown to appreciate the few moments in the morning before anyone turns on the television--it's the brief time when he does not have to be told again that he has to learn how to control himself.

On the days when he has to leave early, he keeps the television off, the newspaper discarded, and leaves Hyunwoo and Hoseok in an understanding kind of silence.

("Ignorance is dangerous, though," Hyunwoo told him, once. And then he disappeared down the street, out of contact until that evening when he helped ensure that Kihyun safely got onboard his bus to class.)

Kihyun takes a sip of his coffee and, with reluctance, opens a link on his tablet to scroll through the morning's headlines. The most prominent one is about a group that has dedicated themselves to studying mutation use patterns in order to target and find mutants who did not have tracking chips. Another one, further down the page, mentions the recent kidnapping of some local mutants.

"What a depressing way to start your day," Minhyuk tells him during a lull in customers as he's cleaning the espresso machine.

A sudden, unexpected but familiar feeling of ease begins to wash over Kihyun, and he takes another, longer sip of his coffee as a show of appreciation. "It wouldn't be so depressing if you did this to the whole city."

Minhyuk shakes his head and sighs. "I'm not a miracle worker," he says. Kihyun watches the way Minhyuk bites at the corner of his lip before it quirks up too high, and he hears the humor in Minhyuk's voice as he adds, "But I think there's one who lives down the street."

Kihyun closes his web browser once he's seen his fill of advertisements for the articles about what people can do to protect themselves from mutants, and skimmed over too many comments showing support for tracking mutation use. "What do you think of all of this?"

"I think," Minhyuk says as another customer walks in, "you should get off the internet."

Kihyun tucks his tablet away in his bag, and takes a breath.

"Mutants at risk just because we are what we are." Jooheon scowls. "Do people get that, or do they just not care?"

Kihyun watches Gunhee flip through the channels until he settles on watching the latest drama. It's a romantic comedy, or at least advertised as one. To the writer's credit, they created a popular mutant character. His inability to control himself lands the main characters in all kinds of funny situations.

"The second thing," Gunhee tells him.

For all of Hyunwoo's concern about being aware of what's happening around them, he is adamant that Kihyun and Hoseok not visit the others in their group at the meeting house too often.

He always has a set of reasons, and a new one every time: you'll be seen, someone will lead the police there, you have to be careful who you trust.

"Someone could get hurt," he says one time after Hoseok tells him about a girl there who can walk through walls. Hyunwoo has never been inside--no nonmutants were allowed as the standard of operation, Jooheon had told them when they first met, for everyone's protection--but he's talking like he knows.

This is the same speech that Kihyun hears everyday from Hyunwoo, and reporters, and protestors, and the words they each use might be different but the meaning is always the same: he is dangerous. And how could he not be, when people actively prevent mutants from interacting with each other, much less finding a place where he can safely be himself.

He knows Hyunwoo is only concerned--understandably so, considering. Kihyun didn't know much about Hyunwoo's life before they met, but he had heard enough to draw his own conclusions from the mentions of friends Hyunwoo had and the implications from his use of past-tense words. Kihyun had friends before, too. He wonders how they are, sometimes.

He knows that he and Hyunwoo must share similar thoughts, but it doesn't stop the irritation that still creeps into Kihyun's voice as he says, "It's safer than it is out here," a little harsher than he intends.

When Kihyun goes to spend time with the rest of their group at the meeting house, he likes to sit and watch. He supposes that part of the reason is because of his mutation; his existence is all about observing and learning and writing images to memory, and then using them again later to create illusions so believable that they could be reality.

Here, he is not some Level 3 mutant capable of harming someone and needing to be monitored. Here, he is just another person wanting to relax and be himself. To fit in.

"It must be nice," Gunhee says to Kihyun, "not having to worry about blending in."

"You blend in." Seokwon smiles a little. "Except maybe your personality."

Gunhee frowns. He leans forward on the table, brows furrowed. "But, like. Literally."

Kihyun kind of understands what he means; people with mutations like Kihyun don't have to deal with the stares that an accidental slip of an ability could bring. Kihyun might confuse someone. Gunhee could freeze the traffic at an entire intersection.

"It's not 'blending in' as much as it is not being obvious," Kihyun says.

"Like camouflage, I guess?" Seokwon adds. "Kind of like adapting to the surroundings."

"You can adapt to the world," Gunhee says to Seokwon, with this edge in his voice, "so wouldn't your mutation disappear to make you human?"

Kihyun cuts in, "We are human."

Gunhee shrugs. "A lot of people would say different."

Kihyun busies himself with his phone so he doesn't have to agree.

Mutants, some people say, are a product of their environment. Their abilities have surfaced for reasons currently unknown--a new phase of evolution in response to something. There are countless theories, and Kihyun feels like he has heard them all. A side effect of a strange, new disease. An immune response. Biological warfare. Pollution in cities. Global warming. A sign of the end of the world.

"Allergies," Changkyun suggests during class. "They just appear whenever, for no reason in particular."

"Allergies to what?" Kihyun asks.

Changkyun shrugs and tells him, "People, maybe."

None of the theories are ever positive because people do not have a positive view of mutants. People are afraid of what they don't understand, Kwangji said to Kihyun months ago when they first met. It was when Kihyun was still practicing more advanced used of his power, trapped in his own blurred lines between imagination and in need of Kwangji's help to pull his mind back to reality.

He kind of understands the sentiment; mutations have been scary for him, too.

In the couple of years that Kihyun has known Hyunwoo, their time spent together in silence has far outweighed their time in conversation. There's rarely discomfort--there is just a mutual understanding of each other's situations, and neither of them is inclined toward small talk. They say what needs to be said, and coexist. It's nice, in general.

It's also the reason why Kihyun often finds himself dwelling on conversations days old, simple lines like be careful who you trust resurfacing when Kihyun is talking with someone else or sitting in class or trying to concentrate on playing basketball as Minhyuk tells him to get his head in the game.

Against his better judgment, Kihyun is once again looking over the latest articles on people falling through solid structures, fires burning in rooms that remain unharmed, and people attacked by invisible assailants. He reads through the comments calling for the Mutant Activity Analysis law enforcement branch to bring all mutants into custody, abilities and Levels for potential harm aside, and the pleas for mutants to stop bringing all of this damage and blame onto their own kind. The fact that most of these cases are from mutants accidentally losing control of powers they are not allowed to learn how to use is irrelevant.

Kihyun's stomach twists, and he swallows. He confesses to Hyunwoo across their table, "I don't know how to feel."

Hyunwoo tells him, "I don't think anybody does."

The mutant kidnappings are not the first crime wave in their city. It is also not the first time that all eyes of the public have been on mutants, watching and and anticipating the moment for them to be able to justify their fear, to continue to use examples of mutant-related crimes for their calls to action.

Mutant-related crimes are defined as the ones caused by mutants, of course, and do not include those crimes committed against mutants. The latter is considered self-defense.

Hoseok had learned that fact through firsthand experience. Hoseok told Kihyun about it when they first met on a bus, on their way to receive the newly mandated tracking chips for mutants of Level 3 and above, who had the potential to cause damage. To allow for more freedom, the government said. So they didn't have to be taken away to one of the facilities Kihyun had only heard stories about, the next stop for mutants who were still considered too much of a hazard.

Hoseok had a narrow escape from law enforcement, he said, when they cornered him to force him to register in an international database. All he had done was defend himself against a group of nonmutant attackers.

"They said I lost control of my own strength," Hoseok said. "They were the ones who charged me."

He had done his share of bad things in the past, he confessed, but Hoseok was trying. His abnormal strength made it hard enough--people were quick to judge on his mutation alone. Kihyun told Hoseok that he knew what he meant.

"I make people see things that aren't there," Kihyun whispered before they arrived at their stop. "People can't judge when there's nothing to see."

They left unnoticed from the bus two stops too early.

Weeks pass, but the number of disappearances of mutants does not show any sign of slowing. If anything, it's increasing; the public is so in favor of targeting mutants by power usage that they start leaving comments on articles and on social media about what they see and where--sudden storms, items of unknown origin appearing, injuries apparently disproportionate their causes. The comments pour in; people just want to help.

Kihyun tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest and the way his face burns at the thought that he's being driven toward some uncertain destination, just like that day on the bus. The list of mutants keeps growing, and Kihyun can't stop wondering if someone will mention him, or Hoseok, or any of their friends. He can't fight the part of himself that worries over any of them being found because that could lead to all of them being found.

His anxiety only grows during a regular broadcast one night when there's a sudden cut to a breaking story: a group of mutants fleeing from a car accident, the cause unclear but the scattering of wreckage so impossible that some extra force had to have been involved. One witness says the car had been speeding toward those mutants, like it was aiming. Reporters say nothing can be confirmed.

Someone's phone alerts them to an incoming text message as the number for the Mutant Activity Analysis branch's tipline appears on the screen below the MAA badge. Next to him, Hoseok says, we have a problem, and Kihyun's mind is racing through all of their friends and his heart is pounding to the words what if.

Kihyun looks to Hyunwoo, whose expression is unreadable as he says, "Don't let anyone see you." There's an odd tone in his voice, undeniably worried.

"No one will," Kihyun tells him. Hiding comes naturally, after all.

This is the night when things change: with Hyunwoo still at home, when Kihyun and Hoseok rush to the meeting house, too aware that one misstep could direct all eyes on them. Their friends are already waiting, but the atmosphere is heavy. There is no casual talk, no smell of food cooking, no one showing off some new and creative way to use their mutation. Everyone is tense, hands wringing, eyes fixed on the same news that someone has turned on that Hyunwoo is no doubt still watching back at the apartment.

"Things are getting worse," Jooheon says. "We're starting to get the wrong kind of attention."

"Yeah, because we had the right kind before," Yoonho remarks.

For a while, the night progresses in an odd and uncomfortable silence accented with the occasional concerns of where do we go from here, what can we do, are we still safe. The comments loop around the room almost in time with the video from the accident playing on the television screen.

"Do you think we should leave the city?" Seokwon asks.

"We're not guilty of anything," Yoonho tells him at the same time that Jooheon says we're not going anywhere and Gunhee barks hell no.

Hoseok shifts. "So we just keep hiding? We just keep worrying that every time we step outside, someone might accidentally see what we are?"

"The only reason why accidents keep happening is because nobody lets us learn how to stop them from happening," Gunhee says, words tight in a forced kind of calm. He points at the screen, incredulous, where officers in MAA uniforms are herding people away. "Something has to change."

Every story about the MAA that Kihyun has heard comes to mind, including the more bizarre ones: harvesting powers, forced education, brainwashing of mutants. None confirmed, but none disproven. Nothing heard from friends they had who were introduced into the system. He might find out in person, since Kihyun now has to worry about his name or the names of his friends being next on the list.

"What, then?" Kihyun asks.

"I think everyone could do with a learning experience," Gunhee tells him.

"Are you crazy?" Yoonho asks, more than a little bit frantic.

"People are only afraid because nobody has been brave enough to show them that they don't have to be afraid," Jooheon says.

Hoseok says, cautious, "You're going to get caught."

"Caught doing what?" Gunhee raises his arms, questioning. "Nothing. Everyone always thinks we're up to something. Someone has to show them that they're wrong."

Every gaze in the room wanders, expectant, confused, fearful, and Kihyun is still thinking of the friends he had and the friends Hyunwoo had and how he just wants his life to be normal.

"Unless you'd rather just stay inside for the rest of your life," Gunhee adds.

For more than just a moment, Kihyun considers.

Kihyun is too aware that the world does not change overnight. He is an illusionist: his expertise is persuasion. He changes perception in an instant, makes people see things that aren't there and hear noise amid silence and feel the touch of objects that do not exist. The art is in making people believe: believe that the earth is quaking or that they feel raindrops falling on them even when they're still indoors, that reality itself has bent. He has to have an understanding that the world cannot change in an instant because he is the one who convinces people that it can.

The following morning after he visits their group at the meeting house, Kihyun is still preoccupied with Gunhee's words. He watches the bus's scanner flash red at every mutant who boards after him, but this time he's not distracted with thoughts of concealing his identity. This is an evaluation; Kihyun is watching and wondering who these people are and what they're being forced to hide.

"People-watching seems pretty popular these days," Changkyun says to Kihyun once the last person boards and the doors slide closed. "More interesting than bird-watching, I guess."

"Not interesting as much as necessary," Kihyun tells him.

Changkyun hums, but the sound is off. Wrong. "Makes you wonder if anyone's watching you."

Kihyun's fingers play at the dog-ear of his textbook.

There's a project due in one of Kihyun's classes in a few days, but it is finally Friday night, and Kihyun is not studying. He is fully dressed, essay and script for his presentation tucked away in the folder on his desk. The only thing worth reciting right now is the location Gunhee had mentioned as their first real night out to unwind and all of the ways Kihyun can use the surroundings to keep their group unnoticed.

This is about letting yourselves go, Gunhee tells everyone when others in their group start to consider following along, so tentative--when they weigh the options of staying hidden away or trying to rejoin the world they were once part of and think that maybe Gunhee has a point, when they finally settle on a night to dare to exist as themselves in public. But is has been so long, and the rumors of the MAA and the group targeting mutants is still fresh in Kihyun's mind so he can't help but go over everything in his mind just in case.

He's about to leave with Hoseok when Hyunwoo stops them at the door and asks, "Doesn't this bother you?"

And there are so many things that bother Kihyun, every one of them related to the fact that he even feels like he has to do any of this hiding and disguising at all. So Kihyun tells him, with certainty, "We won't get caught."

Hyunwoo's expression doesn't change. He says, "That's not what I mean," and for some reason Kihyun feels uneasy.

"We won't be long," Hoseok says.

Kihyun deliberately does not look back as he closes the door.

The route their group follows that night crosses the main street in front of the university. It's the same path Kihyun often follows when he has a break between classes, and he's struck with the contrast between those mid-afternoon moments of relaxation and the buzz of night life. Light from the street lamps and the glow of restaurants makes the area look completely different than it does during the day, and it makes it easier for Kihyun to convince himself that he's somewhere else, someone else, some normal college kid just out for the night to unwind.

Seokwon is the one who breaks the awkward silence that falls on them shortly after they meet at the bus stop, after lighthearted conversations about their days dissolve into brief mentions about their plans for the night. They stop walking when they reach the sidewalk next to one of the university's parking lots, and Seokwon says, tentative, "So… what are we waiting for?"

The area is almost deserted save for the handful of cars belonging to evening students and faculty. As far as Kihyun can tell, their group is outside, in the open, and there is no one watching. Blood rushes in his ears at the thought.

"I'm just waiting on you," Gunhee says, and he shrugs, like this whole situation is no big deal, like nobody is going to see this group of mutants blatantly using abilities in a public area in the dark. Then again, Kihyun supposes, that's part of the reason why he's there.

Everyone hesitates before Jooheon finally steps forward toward one of the street lamps. They're observing him and shifting uncomfortably, bracing, but Kihyun is the one who's watching; Jooheon isn't the only one under pressure.

When Jooheon finally touches the lamp, everything happens in an instant: a pop, a flash, the burst of glass at the sudden rush of energy from Jooheon's fingertips. Kihyun jumps with everyone else and his heart is racing, he's startled and afraid and excited, and Jooheon and Gunhee are laughing.

"I thought I'd start things off with a bang," Jooheon says, and he's smiling, and Kihyun can hear soft breaths from the others that could be relief.

When the rush of adrenaline starts to wear off, Gunhee tells them, a blown street lamp is nothing. He asks, so what's next?

Kihyun's heart continues to race, and he tells himself it's because he has the same question.

It's not entirely untrue.

The complaints of most of the nonmutant population generally remain the same, regardless of when or where they are asked. Mutants are dangerous, stronger presence of MAA law enforcement is needed, more should be done to prevent powers from being used at all.

And, at one point in Kihyun's life, he might have agreed--that period when he didn't know that he had a mutation, when he was just a kid who hardly paid attention to what the adults around him were saying, before his parents took him to a specialist who told them that Kihyun had this sickness. Back during that time before he was issued his special card and he became worried about stares beginning to turn his way, before he learned how to make people blind to the Level number on his ID even though every disclosure law brought about by the MAA dictated that the public had the right to know.

As he's reading through the news, Kihyun anticipates seeing a hastily written article about their group at the university earlier that night. But there's no mention of anything suspicious, nothing about power outages or flashing lights, only a new study about the population density of mutants and mutation-related crime. He sees the anger and the fear in the comments and thinks in Kwangji's voice about people being afraid of what they don't understand.

The human race is in danger, one person writes. Where are the people to protect us?

Kihyun sets his tablet aside and falls into bed, and he spends the rest of his time awake wondering where the heroes are.

Ever since Kihyun began trying to reintegrate into the rest of the world, he has been hyper-aware of how he blends in. He tries not miss class, too concerned that attendance issues could flag his name. He plays basketball, just like other people do when they want to relax. He meets friends and classmates off campus, which also keeps people from even a passing thought that something could be wrong with him. Kihyun maintains a profile of interacting enough to be seen but not to draw unwanted attention. All of these behaviors are things that everybody does, and they have always come natural to him, and sometimes he finds himself wondering when being "normal" became such a science.

It's dark outside the next time Kihyun meets with their group to grab a drink at a restaurant that Seokwon suggested they visit. Gunhee tells them to think of it as killing two birds with one stone, their way of learning how to be subtle to make mutations into some kind of easy concept for other people. He says, you'll never be normal if everyone else is out there doing everything they can to make it hard. He says, show them that it's easy.

Gunhee deliberately knocks over his bottle with the back of his hand, but the contents remain inside, and Kihyun's thoughts stay distracted by the class he has to attend the next morning and wondering what would happen if they have to stay here and clean up some kind of mess.

Hyunwoo approaches Kihyun after they finish playing on the basketball court, before they start to head home, and says, "I hope you know what you're doing."

Kihyun has spent enough time with Hyunwoo to know that he doesn't mean anything threatening by it, so he tells Hyunwoo, "Not really."

It's true, but Kihyun also says it partly out of hope that Hyunwoo would drop the subject so Kihyun can tell himself that they've managed fine so far.

Hyunwoo hums. "Just remember that everybody's always watching."

"Nobody remembers it better than me," Kihyun snaps, immediate and sharp. There are people nearby, after all, and auditory hallucinations are so much more difficult when Kihyun is still devoting half of his attention to his own conversations. The nature of his mutation revolves around observance; telling him to pay attention is no different from reminding someone not to breathe underwater.

Kihyun reflexively takes it as an insult, and doesn't talk to Hyunwoo again for the rest of the day.

"You look irritated," Changkyun says when they meet in the hallway outside of their classroom the next morning. "More than usual."

Kihyun closes his eyes, tight, like blinking harder will make him want to close them less. "I feel more irritated than usual."

Changkyun hums and leans against the wall and slides all the way down, slow and easy, until he's at Kihyun's level. "Have you ever considered actually taking a break?"

Kihyun sighs, heavy, so he doesn't have to say anything that he might regret.

He takes Changkyun's advice.

His phone alerts him to a new text from Seokwon, a message that starts with a time and place, the same kind of quick text that they've started sending to each other whenever they want to go out and do something unimportant and distracting. Kihyun rushes to finish as much of his work that night as he can bear and grabs Hoseok as he passes by the door, and doesn't bother saying much to Hyunwoo other than a quick be back soon tossed over his shoulder as an afterthought.

There are only four of them who meet that night, Jooheon and Gunhee too busy handling some kind of situation back at the meeting house, and Yoonho shoots a message back to them that he's surprised they can handle anything by themselves at all.

"Sorry this is kind of boring," Seokwon says, and he smiles, sheepish. Admittedly, nothing interesting happens until that point; the four of them lack the flashy kinds of abilities. They don't have the skill to amaze and activate energy or manipulate motion that would make them the envy of young mutants, who would get to see what they are capable of and wonder, child-like and naive, if one day that could be them.

They are also the lucky ones: they do not have extra limbs or flesh that morphs or ever-present auras. They are not the kind of people who others look at, the kind whose power will appear on film so the internet can make them go viral and turn them into the next big story. They are, by all appearances, normal. Nobody ever has to know otherwise.

As the night goes on, to Kihyun's surprise, Hoseok joins in a few times when they're sure no one is looking. He's not the type to flaunt his power, too afraid of hurting someone or himself or being caught again. It is impossible not to notice the way Hoseok hangs back, shoulders squared and ready like he's going to jump in at any moment, but never has until now.

You're missing some perfect opportunities, Gunhee tells him every time they're out together.

And Kihyun always shoots back, he's not a show-off like you.

Gunhee and the other always press because what's the point in having a mutation you never use, and it's at that point when Hoseok counters with a quick what's the point in having them at all?

Tonight, though, it's just the four of them, there's no pressure, and Hoseok shows that his strength isn't as rusty as Gunhee thinks it is and lifts a car or two, just a little. The most excitement comes when someone's car alarm goes off and they have to make the split-second decision between running or letting Kihyun make them vanish into the air, and decide to go with a little bit of both.

When they finally catch their breath again, some of the worry returns to Hoseok's voice as he asks, "What if we get caught?"

Kihyun breathes in the night air, deep, and relishes in the smell of the coming rain. Storms have always been fun to play with, he thinks. "Caught doing what?"

He predicts the sound of thunder and flash of lightning and screen of a downpour and lets himself be himself.

Despite all of Kihyun's experience with illusory work, he adamantly denies playing mind games; he considers the term too unsympathetic, like he manipulates people with malicious intent. Maybe, to some degree, there is some feeling of satisfaction in the way that riding a bike is satisfying--a feeling of confidence in his own abilities, evidence that his practice has paid off.

This is the other issue: he is both illusionist and potential victim. He imagines false realities to replace actualities, designs them to make them so believable that even he cannot always remember what is real and what is illusion. His grip on reality is thin and perfect.

Don't bend it too far, Hoseok tells him every time he catches Kihyun in an illusion, when Hoseok is either a willing volunteer or someone who happens to be in the room and sees the way Kihyun's attention is lost in something that is not there.

"It's all about suspension of disbelief," Kihyun tells the others. "Whatever it is, isn't happening. You just have to think that it could."

"Must take a lot of creativity," Seokwon says.

"Not too much," Kihyun says. "That's the point."

Their nights out begin as a way to unwind, to release the stress of hiding all day and finally feeling free to let go, even a little, to tell themselves they're trying to cleverly and subtly introduce the rest of the world to the way mutations can be used harmlessly.

It evolves into a game of truth or dare.

The sun is still setting when they leave the meeting house one night. Only a few minutes have passed, but Gunhee points at some construction equipment unattended at the end of the street and says to Kihyun, "I bet you can't make that disappear."

The distance is more than what Kihyun is used to, but somewhere along the way to this moment in time, between the balancing act of classwork and mutant and nonmutant social lives and pushing himself and testing limits, the swell of something that wants to be confidence builds in Kihyun's chest. Everyone starts to look at each other differently, genuinely curious, and Kihyun pushes down the thought that it could be cockiness.

Against his better judgment, he says, "I bet I can."

"One of the biggest mysteries in life," Changkyun tells Kihyun and Hyungwon, "is why every professor thinks they're the only person you have to do work for."

Kihyun doesn't bother looking up from his lunch. "Maybe you need to schedule things better," he says, as though he does not have his own papers untouched for the last few days and quizzes to complete still unopened. He's prioritizing, and this work to do is still on the list, but of less importance than it would have been a couple of weeks ago. He trusts himself and his abilities to take care of everything.

Changkyun continues, as though he hadn't heard, "The problem is that we always have to revolve around other people."

Hyungwon tells him, around the straw of his drink, "Don't put off your work next time."

Kihyun sits back in his chair and glances around the food court. There are faces that he recognizes from their group, and he almost starts to anticipate something as if they're going to surprise him by knocking his bag over from the other side of the room, or send him a text message asking him for some kind of cover. But Kihyun is an expert at avoiding eye contact and has perfected the art of not drawing attention, so he just lets his gaze slide over them like they're any other stranger who he doesn't know by name. It has become so easy with practice, beyond reflex, ingrained.

The soda at the back of his throat burns.

(Sometimes people approach him, later, the next time they run into each other at the meeting house where they don't have to pretend. They'll say to Kihyun, I saw you earlier, tone a little bit off, almost too distant to be amicable.

Kihyun never knows how to reply, just offers, oh? Like he didn't notice, as if noticing is not the core of his mutation.)

When Kihyun thinks about his future, he imagines this: graduating from his university, getting a stable job, moving into his own place and making it on his own. What he wants the most out of his life is so normal; mundanity is his wildest fantasy when the more realistic picture includes riots, protests, and constant media coverage of why someone like him does not deserve and can never be normal.

This is not what he sees: nights spent walking through the city instead of studying, time in the library devoted more to researching power use patterns with the excuse that he's making sure that their group stays safe and out of the public eye, away from other mutants who would bring unwanted attention. Using this data is for their own benefit, they say. They can use the MAA's own technology to work against them.

And it works; they keep track of places to avoid, when to avoid them, what powers are so similar to theirs that someone might mistake them for someone else.

They stay away and they do not interfere. They do not get involved. They stay safe.

"The best you can do," Kwangji tells Kihyun, "is the best you can do."

Kihyun appreciates these times they spend together, alone, resting on a park bench or at a cafe when Kihyun is guilty of ignoring the weight of exams and protests and families and running. Kwangji is always available, or always happens to be available, to offer insight, whether it's just for a reminder for Kihyun to keep up with the rest of his nonmutant life or making him remember who he is.

"Don't forget what's real," Kwangji says today, as though he knows that Kihyun is tired but still busy thinking. "If you're trying to concentrate on too many things at once, you're not focusing."

Kihyun preoccupies himself with scrolling through the contacts on his phone, never settling on one to dial. He is in the middle of preparing to weave a new illusion in response to a text from Jooheon, another challenge, his mind busy with the idea of creating and manipulating and removing himself from the world.

He pulls himself away for a moment before he becomes too lost. It is him, and Kwangji, and nothing else he sees is there. Kihyun says, with confidence, "I know what's real."

Jooheon and Gunhee, Kihyun thinks, are dangerous. The way their mutations interact is catalytic, the conversion of every type of energy and the manipulation of motion letting them draw power from each other in a cycle that feeds itself infinitely.

Kihyun has seen them in action, the way Jooheon sparks energy and Gunhee sends it flying, and the way Gunhee charges energy waiting to be released. They have a perfect record without error they claim, from their own nights out, unaccompanied, and start a tally of how many times they've gotten away with using their mutations in public on the wall of the meeting house where they can show it off with pride.

Nobody anticipates that the situation could change.

A few days later, when their group is on their way back to the meeting house, nerves still alight, they see someone they do not know tear out a street lamp like it's nothing. Kihyun's first instinct is to get away--he has seen Hoseok and knows what enhanced strength is capable of. He knows the attention that it draws from the people around and the law enforcement; they will not be alone for long, and the MAA will not differentiate between them and the mutant actually committing the crime.

What bothers Kihyun even more is that he missed this. He didn't see this mutant on the government's logs, and he didn't think to disguise himself and his friends when he saw the person down the street.

Not that it would have made much of a difference, because Jooheon is already racing to knock the stranger to the ground so fast and ill thought out. The lamp drops to the ground with a crash so loud that Kihyun is sure the whole city can hear, and all Kihyun has time to manage is a panicked, "What the fuck."

"Some cover would be nice," Gunhee tells Kihyun, rushed.

Hoseok asks, horrified, "Cover to do what?"

Kihyun looks between Gunhee and Jooheon crouched over the strange mutant, sees the way Hoseok is looking at him so scared.

Kihyun's blood pounds through his veins.

Getting lost in thought is easy for Kihyun. Not so much to daydream, but to think of life before and life as it is now--he has been hiding alone for so long, careful not to draw attention to himself in a world where everyone is always watching, making sure that he doesn't say the wrong thing or look at someone the wrong way. He thinks about how, now, he's outside, living, going back to school, playing sports, spending time with friends. He's out and about just like everyone else, and the situation is different, but nothing has changed.

He tells Hoseok this much over the phone while he's out at the market, basket full of canned food, dried fruits, and other non-perishables. The kinds of things a person would buy if they're expecting disaster. Considering the previous night, after Gunhee and Jooheon disappeared with the mutant who said he only wanted to use his power too, who looked at them like he knew them, expecting the worst could be the safest option.

Hoseok says, dismissive, like he's trying to disguise the tenseness in his words the same way he tried to hide his hesitation to leave the apartment, "That's what I meant before."

Gunhee starts to call their group The Avengers. There is no actual avenging, but Kihyun notices the way he directs their group toward areas where mutations have been flagged on the MAA's website. It happens too often to be accidental.

They're like a community watch group, he tells them, but with better resources.

We should wear masks or something, Jooheon suggests.

Traffic is dwindling, lights within restaurants are glowing, and Gunhee looks around this area where there have been reports of people teleporting and says to no one in particular, "You take life too seriously."

"You don't take it seriously enough," Yoonho tells him, harsh, but hushed.

"I take it plenty seriously," Gunhee says. "What do you think I'm doing here?"

Kihyun isn't entirely sure. They've started this trend of going out of their way to find other mutants ever since they caught the one with the street lamp, like they're looking for trouble, like they expect something bad to happen and they plan on doing something. Gunhee says he just wants to keep their group safe, to get anyone who might cause problems off the street. Kihyun doesn't dare to point out that those are the same words they've been hearing their whole lives.

Hyunwoo, however, doesn't hesitate. "Sounds like a statement the MAA would put out," he says.

Kihyun follows Changkyun's advice once again and tries to relax that evening, pulls Hoseok out of the apartment to the nearest bar while the others leave for somewhere else, because Kihyun doesn't want to care.

Gunhee speaks animatedly over the phone with Yoonho, hands moving constantly, and asks, "You think this isn't a priority?"

It is not the first time that Kihyun has overheard this conversation. Yoonho manipulates powers themselves--he can make them vanish or amplify them far beyond what someone would be capable of on their own, or he can make them work against their user. He could stop everything, others tell him, if he just practiced enough. He could make mutations nonexistent. And Yoonho's eyes narrow, and he says, short and dangerous and sharp: Right.

Kihyun is sure that the phone call plays out like it always does and imagines Yoonho asserting that no, this isn't a priority, he goes to school and has a job and a life, and he doesn't have the time or the desire to stalk the city for their own kind, waiting for them to do something that their group doesn't like so they can pounce. He always ends it with: Does that remind you of anything? Or: Are you not hearing this?

Yoonho must follow the script because Gunhee tells him this isn't just your life and hangs up without giving enough pause for a reply.

(Seokwon confesses to Kihyun later, "He wants to be here. It's just. You know. Hard."

Kihyun thinks about the overdue paper on his desk at home and says, genuinely, "I know.")

Kihyun likes to know what comes next. He doesn't like being the target of surprises, being the person left in the dark, expected to just go with the motions to achieve a goal and not having a plan for what happens after.

When Gunhee tells them that they're going to find someone, some mutant, he insists that it's important. This guy has been drawing all kinds of attention, he says.

Seokwon asks what they're going to do when they catch him. Gunhee says that they just want to talk.

And Kihyun is conflicted over what they're doing, this whole situation that he is only hearing about now, that hasn't been planned or discussed. Kihyun just wants to go home to bed and get up for class like he's supposed to in hopes that Hyunwoo's words will finally leave his head. But Kihyun also knows that too much attention will stop any of that from happening anyway; he's seen the MAA's power listing on this person Gunhee mentions, a guy who phases through walls who's responsible for a few robberies nearby.

Nobody will be watching, Gunhee insists. Reporters are too busy looking at the big picture--they don't want the small stories. This guy has to be stopped before this goes on too long, or he targets the wrong person that turns the cameras to their city. Gunhee has a plan, he says, they'll go together to find this person and talk.

This will be easy, Jooheon says, and he smirks in a mirror of Gunhee, and they both look so confident that Kihyun believes them just long enough to agree.

One possibility that they do not consider is getting split up.

They find the guy around the corner of a building on accident, while they're walking the streets during their search but not actually expecting to find him. And Kihyun is still hanging onto Gunhee's words that they're just going to talk, and the more optimistic part of him that says this person is a mutant too, he'll understand is silenced immediately when Gunhee barks, hey, and the guy startles and slips through a wall.

Everyone takes off in different directions because this guy could end up anywhere, and the whole time Kihyun is running he's thinking about how Yoonho isn't there to keep this guy stuck in one room so they can talk, and now the responsibility of catching him without drawing attention falls on Kihyun. So Kihyun takes over, and he's running down the alley and breathing hard and trying to concentrate on how to slow the guy down long enough for Gunhee to catch up and make the guy freeze.

Kihyun keeps his feet moving as he constructs an illusion around the building, but his mind is so busy flashing between thoughts of catching up and wondering what will happen if this guy gets away--he's seen their faces. None of them were going to do anything bad, but nobody else know this. What would happen if the authorities find out and some story of mutant vigilantes gets out into the news?

Kihyun constructs a scene all-encompassing, of a narrow alley filled with boxes and littered with trash so there's nowhere for a normal person to move. But this person isn't normal, they're a mutant, and Kihyun is so exhausted and caught up in his construction that his knee-jerk reaction is to burn it all down, and so he does.

He creates a fire that spreads and engulfs, and there is so much in his illusion just waiting to ignite that it is too easy. Kihyun doesn't even know where the guy is, he just needs him to hesitate long enough, so Kihyun keeps building and destroying until he's the one taking shallow, ragged gasps as the smoke fills his lungs, scalding, and his skin is on fire, and he can't breathe.

Suddenly there's a hand on his shoulder pulling him back, and Seokwon's voice is telling him this isn't real. So Kihyun swallows and then he slowly returns to the alley, where the burning stretch has vanished. The guy they were chasing is on the ground, and Kihyun comes back to himself in time to see Gunhee arrive and hold the guy in place.

"It wasn't real," Seokwon repeats.

Kihyun tells him, "I know," words harsh only because his throat is still burning.

Kihyun is still in bed when he tells Hyunwoo that he's not going to class the next day. There's no easy way to explain that he's worried because he can't stop thinking about the previous night, wondering what happened to the guy after Gunhee and Jooheon led him away and Seokwon steered Kihyun in the direction of his home. He's not even sure if they're fugitives now--Kihyun lost control, and how could anybody not have noticed it?

So Kihyun just tells Hyunwoo that he's not feeling well as Hyunwoo looks down at him, and says, "I don't know if I'll make it." He cannot pretend that the tremble in his hands from last night isn't still there, so he distracts them by pulling his pillow around his ears harder.

Kihyun rolls onto his back but does not close his eyes, heavy as they are. He wants to get away for a moment and not have to deal with the looks of disappointment or the textbooks on his nightstand or anything that reminds him of all of the things that he has not been doing, and how working so hard to prioritize has left everything else neglected. He doesn't want to think about how their group went from fun nights playing with powers to going on patrol, not just ready to handle trouble but actively searching for it.

For a moment it feels as though there is something that Hyunwoo wants to say. He hovers, but ends up settling with, "Okay," and closes Kihyun's door behind him.

Kihyun tries to push the flames burning behind his eyelids out of his mind, but he still feels like he's choking.

When Kihyun does find sleep over the following nights, it is sporadic and unrestful. The dreams and the nightmares that he has are wild and make no sense and he feels them like they're actually happening. It's like he's a kid again, confused about what was real and what was only in his mind, worried that what was in his mind would become real.

"It's not your fault," Hoseok tells him when they're eating a dinner of microwaved leftovers, watching some drama that Kihyun hasn't been paying attention to because he's too distracted by Hyunwoo's absence. "People can't use their powers safely if there's no way to practice. I only know I have one because of luck."

The cases are not uncommon: people who only learn what they are because a test for some common illness or a medical check for a passport flags them and sends the MAA to their office or school or home. There are people who live their entire lives never knowing they're mutants and never finding out why they always feel wrong. Mutants who live their whole lives being human.

Kihyun sets down his half-empty bowl, too nauseous to finish.

A couple of days off of school turn into a couple of weeks of relearning an old cycle, going back to class and talking to instructors once the edge of uncertainty about safety in the public and attention from the MAA has worn off. Kihyun hasn't heard anything else about what happened that night, and the mutant hasn't made any appearances since. Updates on the "mutant crime wave" become background noise while Kihyun returns to his books. Things go back to almost normal, mostly, or Kihyun just gets better at ignoring everything else.

Kwangji mentions to him once, "You look like you're sleeping better."

Kihyun points out, unperturbed, "I never told you I wasn't sleeping."

"You're just obvious," Kwangji says. He chuckles, low and easy, and his lips pull upward gently. And suddenly Kihyun is struck with how much he has missed spending time out to relax instead of going somewhere with some ulterior motive.

It's this thought that makes him choose to ignore the vibration of his phone in his pocket.

Kihyun eventually returns to the meeting house. He walks there after classes one afternoon, a sense of unease growing with every step, but spurred on by just needing to know--he needs closure, he tells himself. A way to finally devote his attention to the rest of his life and keep it there.

He considers turning around more than once, and when he arrives, he almost wishes that he had. It quickly becomes apparent that even though Kihyun has been away, and the events of that night before are finally becoming memories instead of living dreams, their group has not steered off course. The group is there, and the atmosphere is heavy, and Gunhee is livid.

"We almost had them," Gunhee spits at Yoonho, fuming, "Where were you?"

"It's none of your business!" Yoonho hisses so sharp that even Seokwon recoils. "I have more important things to do."

Gunhee's fists clench and he lets out a breath of a laugh, too quick and too harsh to be humorous. "You think this isn't important?"

"Of course it is!" Yoonho says. "But there are other people out there with jobs to take care of it!"

"So you think not doing anything is better?" Gunhee demands. "Just let the people in charge keep stepping on everyone, and let everyone else keep causing shit?"

The exasperation in Yoonho's voice is too obvious even as he tries to keep his voice steady. "And you're not? You think you're making things better by running around the city and making people disappear? You think people don't notice that?"

Yoonho is right; their group has been careless, and Kihyun can only imagine how things have gone since he stopped coming. Only luck and illusions have kept them hidden so far, and now that Kihyun is taking time off, the others have nothing to fall back on. Kihyun is stricken with a feeling of obligation, and he wonders if Yoonho isn't feeling it too. The safety of all other mutants in the city is a heavy burden for someone just out of high school.

"If you can't deal," Gunhee snaps, "then just leave."

And Yoonho does.

Kihyun calls Hyunwoo afterward when he's halfway home, several blocks away from the meeting house. He takes a different route like he has done every time before, partially to maintain the location's secrecy and partially because he knows that he won't have to run into anyone this far out of the way. He's at a loss and finds himself punching numbers into his phone, dialing home on autopilot but catching himself and hesitating for a moment before deciding to press call.

When Hyunwoo answers, the first thing that Kihyun says is, "Yoonho left."

"It's probably for the best," Hyunwoo says. "I know he's had a lot on his mind lately."

Silence hangs over the line, words that Hyunwoo doesn't say hang heavy, and Kihyun still knows what he means. Hyunwoo doesn't have to say how much healthier Kihyun would be if he left, or remind him that he has been healthier since he stopped going.

But the voice in the back of Kihyun's mind tells him that every other mutant in the city deserves to see better days, too.

"It was probably a mistake going there," Hyunwoo says, soft and apologetic.

Kihyun hangs up before either of them says anything that they might regret.

The air is different the next time that Kihyun visits the meeting house; it's no longer lighthearted, and the tables are noticeably vacant. There is no playfulness or wonder of mutants discovering what their powers are capable of. Instead, there is calculation and an unsettling degree of determination burning in their eyes.

Kihyun doesn't bother to ask where everyone else went, because he's certain that it's where he would be, too--in libraries and classrooms and workplaces, where they can forget about what they are and maybe start to convince themselves that everything is normal.

"Why do we need to be anything else?" Gunhee asks. "Why should we have to feel like we need to be anything else?"

The remaining members of the group, though few, offer declarations of agreement. Their numbers have dwindled but their dedication has not, and Kihyun's chest tightens, though he isn't sure why.

Hoseok starts off by saying, "I know this isn't something that you want to consider."

Kihyun knows what Hoseok is going to say before the words leave his mouth--that they should stop going to the meeting house completely, stay their distance as three and look for new connections to make.

And, no, it's not something that Kihyun wants to consider, though it's been nagging at the back of his mind. He's finally starting to feel like he's regaining control over himself after he lost it when his power got the better of him, after he lost himself and went wild and became exactly the unpredictable danger that society tells him he is. He's moving on, now, to the point that he's not panicking at the thought of using his own power.

"This isn't just going to go away," Kihyun tells him, because no matter what they choose to do, it will not make a difference. The meeting group will still exist, Gunhee and the others will still pursue mutants, Kihyun and Hoseok will still have to deal with the urge to use their powers like the need to flex their fingers.

"No," Hoseok agrees. "Someone's always going to be at risk."

Kihyun is sick of being the person to decide who that someone is.

"The thing about being on a team," Yoosu tells Kihyun, "is that you have to work together with people. As a team."

It's the first time Kihyun has gone to the basketball court in so long that lay-ups have become a task. He's finally relaxing, so he chooses not to argue that playing for a team is the only thing on his mind nowadays. Putting his team's needs before his own has overtaken everything else--it has escalated to the point that asking for time to himself would be considered selfish. Nobody hesitated to label Yoonho that way, after all.

Instead, Kihyun apologizes and concentrates on the position of his body as he shoots. He practices passing the way he has begun to practice his illusions; cautiously, with emphasis on accuracy and precision, as though he's learning it all over again. He is, kind of.

"Readjustment takes time," Changkyun tells him, weeks since the last time they met outside of class. There had been issues going on, Kihyun told him as the reason for his absence, to leave it vague and make it easier to keep his excuses straight. "Everyone handles things differently."

Jooheon calls Kihyun later.

Kihyun does not answer the phone.

Readjusting does take time. As more time has passed, Kihyun has gradually made fewer reappearances at the meeting house. That different atmosphere that settled before remains, insidious, too similar to what he chokes on in the buses when a mutant boards. The meeting house was supposed to be a safe haven for mutants. Now it is a safe haven for mutants, as long as.

"People might get the wrong impression," Yoonho says. His attention is somewhere around the pastry display, his words more of an afterthought or an aside, as though he's not particularly concerned whether or not Kihyun is listening. "You know. If you turn them away because they have different interests than you."

"I haven't turned anyone away," Kihyun tells him.

"I know," Yoonho says. "But you spend time with people who have."

Kihyun bristles, a bit. "I feel like you're the one with the wrong impression." He says, "I'm on your side."

Yoonho says, "Stop picking sides. That's what led to this mess in the first place."

Kihyun brings up his conversation with Yoonho in passing that night, more to release stress before trying to sleep than to look for any kind of answer.

"Perception is everything," Hyunwoo tells him. "You know that better than anyone."

Kihyun takes a bite of his ramyeon so he doesn't have to admit that Hyunwoo isn't wrong.

Two hours too early, Kihyun stops by the café hoping for a distraction from the rest of the world for a few moments before he has to walk back outside and be reminded.

It almost works until Minhyuk gives him a once-over, hands him his coffee, and says, "You could use a vacation."

Kihyun sighs and takes the seat closest to the counter, too exhausted to have to feel guilty for prompting Minhyuk to leave his station on top of everything else.

"I mean, I know you already had one, sort of," Minhyuk says as he taps the next customer's order into the register, "but it wasn't much of one, from what I heard."

Kihyun gingerly takes a sip of his coffee even though it's still scalding. "Heard from who?"

"Hyunwoo," Minhyuk answers. "He worries about you guys, even if he doesn't show it well. Or, you know. At all."

Kihyun sighs and leans into his seat and lets the wave of warmth from the drink in his hands and the feeling of concern spread through his fingers to his arms to his core. Still, his mind dwells on thoughts of alienation surrounding his own group pushing away people like Yoonho, their friends, and how Kihyun could be singled out next. The situation has turned into nonmutants fighting mutants fighting other mutants, and he's torn between wanting to help and wanting to walk away.

"I know how you feel," Minhyuk says, and Kihyun knows that he means it. Minhyuk hands off a latte to the last customer waiting and moves to stand closer to where Kihyun is seated. "I know a lot of other people feel the same way. They just express it differently."

Kihyun tells him, "I think that's the problem," and takes his time finishing the rest of his coffee while he people-watches. His attention alternates between the tapping of keys as someone types unrushed and the strangers passing by outside.

"Keep your mind open," Minhyuk says before Kihyun leaves. "But, seriously, take a vacation."

Using a mutation is something that happens, intentional or not; it is part of a person, an ability that manifests as any expected development would, easy and natural, which becomes a normal skill to use over time just as any ability would lead to another--like crawling turns into walking turns into running.

The problem, Kihyun knows, is when confidence becomes cockiness. There's danger in the temptations of someone controlling flames, or motion, or perception.

"You seem better," Hoseok tells Kihyun, and Kihyun is reminded again of his conversations with Kwangji and how he's finally regaining his feeling of confidence, concentrated on bending their view of the sky so ominous into soft blues and whites that blend into a sunset. Hoseok continues, "More relaxed. Especially since you're trying to get me to go outside without an umbrella."

Kihyun admires his own work of art as he says, "I don't think I need to use an illusion to get you to do that."

"This is nice," Hyunwoo tells him, simply, but Kihyun watches him look at his sky out over the rest of the city, corner of his lips pulled up, genuine, and Kihyun has to agree.

(Kihyun met Hyunwoo by accident when they were in high school, waiting in line for lunch in the cafeteria. Kihyun had transferred there so recently that he still sported the "new guy" label, though it was preferable to the other labels that people like him would get if they were ever found out to be mutant. It was why so many kids like him left his previous school.

Handing over his lunch card there had been his first real test of altering the appearance of an ID card. They were still new to everyone, implemented following the recent mandates for schools to identify mutants for the safety of others. Schools decided that labeling them was the better option compared to losing nonmutant students as their parents threatened to withdraw them.

Kihyun was young and different and desperate to fit in, so he tried to disguise what he was. He was mostly successful.

Hyunwoo waited for him off to the side, and Kihyun knew from the way that he was hovering there, shifting, playing at the corners of his tray that Hyunwoo saw. Almost everyone had the same body language when they found out they were approaching a mutant; their bodies fit the same stiff edges of anxiousness. Kihyun had heard the jokes: they're more afraid of you than you are of them.

"I have friends," Hyunwoo said, just loud enough for Kihyun to hear when he passed by. Hyunwoo hesitated, then added, "Like you."

Kihyun pretended that he didn't hear and hoped that nobody else actually did.

"They transferred, too," Hyunwoo told him. His voice was quiet and tentative around the word transferred in a manner too familiar to Kihyun.

"Oh." Kihyun paused. "Sorry."

He had been about to walk away when Hyunwoo told him, "In case. If you need anything. I don't think I'm going anywhere."

Kihyun asked, "Do you do this for every mutant in school?"

Hyunwoo said, "I would," with conviction, and Kihyun believed him.)

When Kihyun next visits the meeting house, he has an epiphany about the meaning of their intent.

Gunhee asks, "Are you coming back for real?"

Kihyun tries not to let himself be taken back to that incident so many nights ago and tells himself that even though he feels suffocated, he's not breathing smoke. "No," he says, clipped, and firm.

"The city's still shit," Jooheon says. "It'd be great to have you back again."

Someone else jokes that they'll even wear those hero masks, like it would be fun and enticing even though they're discussing hunting their own kind.

More certain than Kihyun has been of anything in awhile, he repeats, "No."

"That's too bad." Gunhee fixes his attention back on whatever he's watching on his phone.

Unsure of what else to add, Kihyun says, "Yeah," and leaves not long after.

Kihyun sends a text to Gunhee in a final attempt at some kind of understanding: What you're doing won't help.

Within hours, he receives a reply, and finds out what Gunhee was watching.

Clips have been circulating online of mutants fighting mutants. New ones, different from the videos posted by mutants courageous or stupid enough to film themselves using their own powers in some flashy sport that have been going viral since mutations first appeared. What's concerning about this one is a group of mutants, all shapeshifters, chasing people in their city. There's a popular comment that reads, congratulations, with a link to a news article reporting an official announcement from the MAA that they will be increasing activity and making their presence in the city more known.

As if on cue when he reaches the end of the article, Kihyun receives another text message from Gunhee reading: You think it'll hurt to try?

Between the time when Kihyun discovered that he could bend people's perception of reality and now, when part of him wishes he had never learned of it, Kihyun began to balance more than one life. He has been mutant, nonmutant, peacekeeper, near vigilante, and student; he bears the weight of responsibility for protecting other mutants as much as he anticipates graduating and moving on with his life. The balance between them is so, so fragile.

"Things aren't getting better," Kihyun mentions to Kwangji. And then, to reinforce his point: "They're only getting worse."

"So what are you going to do?" Kwangji asks him.

Kihyun huffs, short, tired. "I'm open to suggestions."

Memories plague his mind in an unforgiving loop of decisions he wishes he could change. When he decided to search for mutants to protect mutants, when morality became skewed, how crimes are still happening despite everything they've done, and how Kihyun has had to learn to trust himself again.

"There's more than one way to help," Kwangji tells him. "Mutations are flexible like that."

"Mutations aren't something that you want people to know about," Kihyun says. The words come out so easily because it is a fact. A mutant life is something that people don't want to deal with.

Something in the back of Kihyun's mind clicks into place.

Disbelieving comments have been coming from other mutants as long as Kihyun can remember. He's heard the questions of what is our world coming to, the exaggerations and the jokes about MAA enforcement on every corner, cameras watching from every angle, people going around and knocking on doors to search for mutants over certain Levels too dangerous for society. People would laugh it off, hollow; sarcasm was the best way to keep themselves from wondering what if, someday. It is not such a helpful method when those things actually happen.

Kihyun has only heard rumors of the MAA, stories from people about stories from people who had been taken in by them, or questioned, or observed, or displaced. He chose not to believe any of them.

And then, one day, he's walking down the sidewalk with Hyunwoo, practicing to conceal himself from everyone nearby. These old rumors nag at the back of his mind as cars pass and people walk by, and the farther he and Hyunwoo walk, the closer they get to the city, the more people Kihyun sees in uniforms that he has only heard of in stories.

Kihyun swallows, acutely aware of any eyes that could be watching.

The news media is thrilled with the MAA as much as the general public; their presence spurs a new era of hope, it would seem. Finally, people say, things will change. Everything is buzzing in all of the worst ways.

One mutant interviewed, still so young, asks, "Why is everyone assumed dangerous?"

A nonmutant, profile covered in mosaic and voice distorted, says, "This is the way things should've been from the beginning."

(Gunhee has always said, "It's not the way it has to be." He would add, "The world is this way because we let things get this way."

"Then what do you plan to do?" Kihyun had asked.

He watched Gunhee deliberately drop his glass and play with the way it fell before it struck the floor and shattered.)

Only the minimum degree of intervention would be used, according to the MAA spokeswoman. Their promise is to make their presence known and step in if necessary, otherwise not interfering with daily life. They are not there to interrogate people or use force--they are there to make sure that the environment is safe.

Kihyun is out with Hyungwon and Changkyun on the way to the movies, a couple of minutes close to being late, still stuck in the ticket line because some people are too hesitant to pass through the scanners now monitored by people in uniforms at the entrance. The whole system is an upgrade to the theater's older system, installed since the MAA claimed it had been successful at quicker and more accurate detection--who knows how many crimes they've helped prevent.

Deceiving the people watching the scanners is not a new skill for Kihyun, and he's regained enough confidence to know that he can slide through without making anyone look twice. What throws him is when he happens to look down and sees a flash of a red number on Hyungwon's ID as he pays for his ticket.

It's not that Hyungwon slips--he makes no effort to hide it. It's just that Kihyun had never bothered to pay attention. All Kihyun can think about for that moment is trying to search for any memory of any indication or hint that Hyungwon was a mutant, some slip of the tongue, and he comes up with nothing. Kihyun's struck with the reminder that he's not the only illusionist.

As Kihyun passes the scanners and makes the people monitoring them believe that nothing was abnormal, he extends the same favor for Hyungwon and makes sure that Hyungwon sees.

When they're in the theater, Hyungwon glances back and if he's surprised. It's well disguised as a casual interest in the machine, the type of admiration that a nonmutant might show for such a pivotal introduction.

Changkyun follows his gaze and says, unperturbed, "Whatever makes people sleep better at night."

Kihyun had been exposed to the discussions over mutations even before his own mutation emerged; he cannot remember the time when there was not constant debate over mutant issues. There was always some kind of hot topic in the news over genetic discoveries as scientists and researchers offered vastly differently explanations about why mutations had appeared, why now, why only in certain people. And as the number of mutations increased, so did public concern, exponentially, from interest to concern to panic.

"You'd think it was a zombie apocalypse," Changkyun says, one time. And then, cautiously, "Do you think zombies are real?"

Years have passed and technology has evolved and times have changed so little. Kihyun went through high school hearing rumors of being taken away somewhere and experimented on, so wild and unreal like they were aliens in some science fiction movie. And Kihyun continues to hear those rumors that have persisted into today, but now they're accented with videos of the MAA taking mutants away in windowless trucks.

More often than not, these days, Kihyun spends those silent moments before he falls asleep wondering, what if.

"People like us," he tells Hyunwoo in the morning, "are always going to hide."

This is not a revelation; Hyunwoo knows this fact as well as Kihyun and Hoseok and every other mutant who spends their days trying to convince the rest of the world that they are just as normal as anyone else.

Hyunwoo says, simply, "Yes."

"They shouldn't have to." Kihyun shifts his weight to the edges of his feet and back. "But you always knew that."

"Yes," Hyunwoo repeats, unconcerned, but not uninterested.

Kihyun thinks of Hyungwon and his friends, of all of the mutants he's never known who have not rejoined society so easily. He says, "It's too bad more people don't help."

Hyunwoo hums, thoughtful.

"You'd be amazed at some of the things people tell you, working here," Minhyuk says. And then he adds, off-handed, "I should be a counselor."

He grins, toothy and genuine, and Kihyun catches himself beginning to return the gesture.

"Hyunwoo told me that you hear lots of things." Kihyun leans forward just enough to rest against the counter. Bracing, kind of. "Good things," he continues and hopes that his message gets across. He knows that Minhyuk can feel the concern coming off of him, too obvious in the way how his smile slightly fades.

"You're too stressed for caffeine," Minhyuk says. And then, a few moments later, "There are good people out there, even if they can be hard to find."

Kihyun asks, gently, "Where?"

Minhyuk has listened to accounts from people who have heard and seen and experienced things firsthand; he tells Kihyun about the stories he hears in the hours when other people are still sleeping, when the people who are awake are either too tired to care about what they say or so exhausted that they only want someone to listen before they have to face the entire day ahead of them.

He's met teachers looking out for mutant students being bullied. Coworkers who cover for each other when some ability prevents them from working. Paramedics who come in during the earliest hours, who see so much and still tell him about how they spend their free time getting patients to places that will help mutants. The difference between these stories and the ones told at the meeting house are like night and day; it's why Minhyuk says he never went back.

"It's easy to miss things when you're stuck inside all the time," Minhyuk says.

"You've missed a lot, too," Kihyun tells him, "but that's probably a good thing."

Minhyuk sends him away with a name--a friend of his who's new to this life, too--and denies Kihyun anything other than decaf.

Minkyun hasn't known about his mutation for long; like so many other cases, he learned about it by accident. One second he's at his computer researching information for a school project, he says, and the next second he's in the middle of a museum, late at night and still dressed in pajamas, standing in front of portrait he's supposed to be writing an essay about.

"It was actually kind of funny," Minkyun says. He flashes a quick grin. "I'm kind of curious where I'll end up if it happens again."

He even made it into an article, he says, about a mysterious figure vanishing into the night. It hadn't been the center of attention since nothing had actually happened--nothing that people would be interested in hearing, at least. But it was enough for Minkyun to be seen, and that made it enough for Kihyun's group at the meeting house to notice. Kihyun recognized Minkyun as soon as he heard his story.

The realization makes Kihyun wonder how many other names being thrown around were just people who were victims of their own power, too young or inexperienced to even know what was happening. It's unsettling to think about how often they must have jumped to conclusions and judged other mutants to be guilty and needing to be dealt with.

Kihyun swallows the idea of why their group even became involved in the first place, considering there are plenty of other organizations that do the same. He says, "Try to make sure that it doesn't."

For the most part, Kihyun has used his illusions as a method of creation--he was the person who others turned to when they needed a wall, or a car, or anything to make people stop in their tracks and believe just long enough. His creations have so often been for the purpose of stopping something bad from happening that at some point he forgot the benefits of destruction.

Kihyun's ability to take away is unmatched--he bends doors into nonexistence and makes himself and others do more than just blend into a crowd. He is a master of invisibility to the mind, and that, Hoseok tells him, is how he can put his mutation to use to help.

"Like Hyunwoo," Hoseok says. "If he had powers or something."

"You're like a freelance escape artist," Minkyun tells him, tone so bright.

Kihyun admits that it would make an interesting business card.

The changes in their city are most noticeable by the end of the month of the MAA's arrival. It is not just because of the officers or the scanners anymore--it is the persistence.

Public safety was the underlying topic of every change and piece of news, central to any debate and decision. Now, though, there is action. Removal of students from schools doesn't increase gradually--the change in numbers is instantaneous. Officers do not patrol random streets--they are on every corner. Checking identification cards is no longer only done at the discretion of the individual--it is mandatory.

When Hyungwon and Kihyun are alone, disguised from view and the only time they're safe, Hyungwon says, "It's never been easy to stay one step ahead, but now it's…" He pauses, searching, and then asks instead, "Do you think it's like this everywhere?"

Kihyun's gaze stays fixed on the food court's television and doesn't bother to say, yes.

His former group at the meeting house does well enough for themselves, Kihyun assumes. They're never mentioned in the news, at least, which is an accomplishment considering all of the new ways to keep an eye on mutant activity.

Kihyun crosses paths with Jooheon by accident at the bus stop between the park and the university, one afternoon, while Kihyun is mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

Jooheon takes a seat next to him and says, light, "I heard you'll make someone disappear if the price is right." And then he lets out a soft breath of a laugh at his own joke and relaxes into the bench.

Kihyun's momentarily reminded of the way their group was before everything started to become out of control, how light hearted and simple things used to be and how he probably would've laughed along too, once.

"How about you?" Kihyun asks instead without really intending to, but there's a part of him that needs to know. He had been so involved and they were friends and then he left--he had to, but the sudden severance of their ties and recent revelations have left him unsettled.

"Things have gotten bad everywhere now, you know? When things are bad, business is good," Jooheon tells him. "From what I hear, you could say the same."

The feeling of unease persists.

Whenever Kihyun helps someone travel, he has to argue with himself over the fact that it's no more illegal than disguising himself in front of security and very different from what he was doing with their group before. "Smuggling" is the term that people have been throwing around, as though traveling with mutants and helping people get places safely is some kind of dangerous act. There is currently no law declaring transportation a crime. Kihyun assumes it's only a matter of time.

This doesn't change the fact that most nonmutants believe it should be a crime. If news broke out about mutants disguising themselves, hiding out in the open in a public place without anyone even knowing they were next to them, there would be outrage. Kihyun wishes someone would point out that there are plenty of other visible monsters to worry about.

"I'm only doing this for friends," Kihyun insists, because as legal as he tries to believe this is, it is only so because no court cases with illusionists have occurred before. Teleporters and people who phase or turn invisible are the ones who receive all of the attention, because their powers are the most obvious. Creativity is a small loophole, for the time being.

Yoonho tells him, "Kind of sounds like you get to choose who's allowed to be helped."

"You're looking out for yourself, too," Kihyun snaps. "They're not the only ones in danger."

"Yeah, it can't really be helped," Seokwon says, factual. He's not looking at either Kihyun or Yoonho, attention instead directed across the street, but Kihyun has the impression that Seokwon is speaking to both of them.

Yoonho says, "It can if you don't get involved."

And Kihyun gets it; he's heard enough about mutants with coveted powers being sought by everyone--researchers, nonmutants, other mutants all wanting to gain something. It's why Level 4 mutants are almost nowhere to be found, either taken by the government or in hiding from the rest of society; their powers are the most dangerous and the most desirable. Keeping at a distance often seems to be the only logical choice. Kihyun figures that Yoonho, of all people, would know.

But something doesn't feel right, so Kihyun argues, "So you're admitting that choosing yourself over everyone is the right thing to do?"

Yoonho tells him, simply, "That's not what I said."

"He doesn't mean to come off harsh," Seokwon tells Kihyun later that evening when they arrive at their university's basketball game. It's been a while since Seokwon had last been to one, he says. His identification card didn't restrict his entrance--he's Level 1, he's harmless--he just doesn't like the looks. People see red, and they stare, regardless.

"He does," Kihyun says, without the bitterness he had felt earlier. "I get it."

Kihyun has only recently started offering his ability to help people he felt reasonably comfortable trusting. Yoonho has been dealing with unwanted advertisement of his mutation for years.

As they hand over their tickets and identification cards, Kihyun filters out the background noise of chatter from the growing crowd, the smell of food from the concession area, and concentrates on the presence of the people around him and what he wants them to notice. It's the largest group of people Kihyun has used his illusions on in a while. Minutes seem to pass, but it's over in a few seconds, and he and Seokwon are on their way to their seats while Kihyun's heart is still beating faster than normal.

"I don't think anybody knows what the right decision is." Seokwon continues, "So don't take life too hard. Adapt and survive."

Seokwon smiles a little wider at his own joke, and Kihyun's blood is still singing with too much adrenaline to not return the gesture.

Hyunwoo has never gone into detail about the friends he had before he met Kihyun and Hoseok. All he's ever shared were vague references, names accidentally slipped in passing, and implications that he somehow knows that the MAA's claims of how they're humanely handling mutated individuals are lies. It's a claim that people can only speculate since nothing has been proven and investigations were never launched, but Hyunwoo's words when he speaks about them are so certain.

Nonmutants aren't always safe either--Hyunwoo has kept them moving and covering their tracks long enough for Kihyun to know that, too. It's part of the reason why Hyunwoo's parents think he's on the other side of the country.

"You've done this for so long." Kihyun asks, "Why?"

Hyunwoo says, calm and even as always, "Someone should."

The number of mutants living secret lives is not staggering. Mutations have been appearing more frequently, but they're still considered uncommon. What's more important to the public is the risk--the relatively low number of mutants in their city does not affect their fear that the presence of any mutant puts them in danger.

What is stunning is who mutants are--people Kihyun never would have guessed were living some kind of disguise, just like him. That's the point, he knows, but it is still surprising. They are neighbors and old friends and passersby who hadn't given the slightest hint of what they were concealing as they lead nondescript lives and never stepped out of line. Normal.

"'Surprising' isn't the word that I'd use," Hyungwon tells him on their way to class.

Kihyun remembers his conversations with Kwangji and quickly tries to push them from his mind so he can focus instead on getting past the MAA's security in front of the science building.

They manage to stay inconspicuous, but Kihyun can't stop considering what Hyungwon meant.

Comments about action needing to be taken to address the mutant "crisis" have become so common from both sides of the argument that they do not raise suspicion anymore. Nonmutant remarks to monitor mutants more closely and demands from mutants for more freedom turn into ongoing protests that become such a regular part of life to the point that the words almost lose their weight. Abductions are still happening and mutants are skipping school and work for fear of their safety. Kihyun is still hiding people, but these issues begin to be drowned in a yelling match as mutants are so desperate for someone to just hear them.

Kihyun catches himself on the way to the convenience store one day as he walks past the protesters and the people handing out fliers thinking that all he wants to do is get by. It strikes him, suddenly, about how much he sounds to himself like so many other people who want to tune out the rest of the world and go on like nothing important is happening in the background.

"It's messed up out there," Hoseok tells him. "Don't kick yourself for thinking what everyone else has thought at some point."

Kihyun knows that it's meant to be reassuring, but it's not.

There are moments when Kihyun believes that things might be okay. Not necessarily for the world in its entirety, but there are those times when he's out with Seokwon or Hyungwon, or at home eating with Hyunwoo and Hoseok… those times when he can feel for a brief time that nobody is pursuing them, that they are normal people going about life the same way anyone else would. Lately those moments have come often enough that Kihyun is starting to believe that things are looking up.

But just like any other illusion, this image shatters. And when it does, it is sudden and spectacular and has been a long time coming.

Kihyun hears it before he sees it. He and Hyungwon are still inside of the mall, but on the other side of the glass doors there are voices of opposing sides of protesters. Their words are jumbled but they are loud, and Kihyun doesn't have to understand what they're saying to know that those raised voices are a hint of what could follow. It wouldn't be the first time that a protest became too heated in their city.

"We should go," Hyungwon says.

Kihyun wants to agree, but through the doors he sees two familiar faces at the front of one side. Even from a distance, Gunhee and Jooheon are unmistakeable. Kihyun has been reconstructing their faces for months, after all.

And he knows that he should listen to Hyungwon and leave, that he should listen to his own voice in the back of his head urging him and saying that things are going too far--he does not have to be psychic to know what happens when this inevitably escalates.

Still, there's another part of him reminding him that these are the people who were his only friends for so long, people who he trusted and who trusted him. Against his better judgment, Kihyun tells Hyungwon to leave without him and tries to keep his steps confident as he hurriedly prepares a convincing new reality that excludes his existence.

He doesn't move fast enough.

A bang from somewhere outside sends both sides of protesters into panic, and Kihyun is forced to push through the crowd as they race away and shove and scatter. All he can think about is getting to Gunhee and Jooheon, his friends who are in danger who might not even be there anymore, and so much of his attention is on them that none of it is on the illusion he's supposed to be building.

He finds Gunhee and Jooheon in the parking lot, herding a small group away and weaving between cars and Kihyun's immediate thought is about how they must look to nonmutants, like they're guilty and fleeing from a crime scene.

When Kihyun catches up to them, he's breathing hard and the only thing that he can think to say is, "What are you doing?" The sense of betrayal in his tone is so evident and not surprising, considering.

Gunhee answers, but his words are lost over the sound of sirens. The shock of the noise brings Kihyun back to where he is, in a crowd of people still running with others beginning to gather at the fringe to see what's happening, and he's jerked back to the reality that he needs to get his friends somewhere safe.

Kihyun makes them vanish, but he knows that there are cameras watching, and that they are able to capture enough.

Kihyun redefines what it means to be an escape artist. His illusions have grown more and more daring in intricacy and skill over time and now, when he builds them, it is truly as if they are real. When he was in high school, he once convinced his entire class that he was in his seat all period, taking notes like everyone else, when he was actually hovering around the edges and walking out into the hall, staying nearby just in case anything went wrong. And it did go wrong, as expected of someone so young who had not been allowed to learn about what he is much less how to control himself, and that was when the regular calls from the school to his parents began until he was eventually forced to transfer.

But, for that short amount of time, he had been content to not have to deal with the looks for just a little while. It was the first time he had managed to bend the minds of a group that size. The problem now is the same as it was then: an overload in senses and loss of grip on whose minds he needs to bend.

He sits with Hoseok and Hyunwoo in front of their television and watches himself on the news that evening, where there is footage of him moving with a group of mutants directly between approaching law enforcement who did not react as if they knew the group was there. Although there's no indication that he's the mystery illusionist, his figure is now associated with the faces of other mutants whose images are clearly identifiable and being broadcast to the entire city. Along with the video, there are requests for people to contact the MAA if they have any information about the mutants who might have been involved in trying to incite a riot.

"Shit," Kihyun breathes because it's the first thing to slip out, and he has nothing else to say.

He braces himself for Hyunwoo to say something: that Kihyun should have known better, that he probably shouldn't have been there in the first place. But the comments never come--Hyunwoo just watches the television, expression unreadable, and somehow even more concerning.

Hoseok sighs, and echoes, "Shit."

Trusting Hyunwoo took time. Kihyun had always been well aware that most nonmutants were on edge, afraid of what Kihyun was regardless of the fact that he had given them no reason for fear. And he knew, from the stories of others and the scenes he had witnessed at his old school, that people react unpredictably when they perceive that they're threatened.

So Kihyun had done his own research into Hyunwoo's story about Jaebum and Jinyoung--Kihyun had gotten his hands on yearbooks and studied the soccer team pictures displayed with pride in the school's entranceway. He'd looked up dates and names of mutants that had been made public, telling who was now under the educational programs within the government schools.

It's not until now that Kihyun understands how much research Hyunwoo must have done on him too, since it has become obvious that nonmutants involved with mutant activity are seen as just as much of a threat.

Learning to trust had taken time, and that is something that he has not experienced with many other people in the city. Not with his classmates, or nonmutant friends, or other mutants who people would think must be in similar circumstances, at a distance from the rest of society. He doesn't know these people, and he doesn't trust them to see his figure on the news and not point somebody in his direction.

Kihyun spends the next few days in their apartment at Hyunwoo's urging just to be safe, and Kihyun doesn't argue. It's the only place people wouldn't look for him--he's off the record here. If anyone does learn his name, they'll trace it back to another address. Kihyun decides not to think about the events that might happen after the government finds out that it's false.

He watches the repeat broadcasts of the chaos in front of the mall, the close-ups of MAA officers escorting mutants away and trying to control the crowd. One officer assures the public that proper steps are being taken to catch those responsible for the event and requests the cooperation of all mutants and nonmutants--mutants and people, he says--in their efforts.

Hyunwoo and Hoseok call him to check in during the days, but Kihyun is often too preoccupied wondering who wants mutants off the streets the most to answer.

One of the times Kihyun's phone rings, it's Minhyuk on the line.

"People are just afraid," Minhyuk tells him, with all of the empathy that he can squeeze into his words, like he wishes he could make it reach through the phone.

All Kihyun says in reply is, I know, because he does know. Fear has always been a great motivator, and an even better excuse.

Sometimes Changkyun texts Kihyun, out of the blue. It's sporadic enough that Kihyun is a little surprised every time he sees a new message, especially considering this isn't the first time that Kihyun has fallen out of contact with him.

Changkyun likes to send short messages, occasionally insightful, mostly nonsensical or cryptic, but never presses about where Kihyun has disappeared to or why he seems to have vanished. And Kihyun never mentions the topic either--he worries that one day he'll run out of good excuses.

(Part of Kihyun has to wonder if Changkyun doesn't ask because Hyungwon mentioned something to him. But Kihyun hasn't seen Hyungwon since the riot and hasn't spoken to him after a brief call asking Kihyun if he was okay.

"I guess this is done," Hyungwon had said, not necessarily questioning. Careful, Kihyun had thought.

Kihyun hadn't missed the uncertainty, but it was at a time when he was still shaken and afraid and thinking on instinct and he said, firmly, "Yeah.")

One of Changkyun's messages goes on about dorm life in the summer, about how he's ready to rip the bars from his window to try to let some air in since his fan broke and he feels like he can't breathe. Unfortunately he cannot, he says, and the bars are still in place just like the people in MAA uniforms now patrolling the campus. He texts, the entire educational establishment is a prison.

Fight the system, Kihyun sends back without thinking much about it.

Changkyun responds with a thumbs up, and Kihyun starts to reply but pauses halfway through his message.

What is most disconcerting, Kihyun finds, is how quickly mutants act to turn other mutants over to MAA law enforcement. He can't tell if it's for safety or the reward money or to show that they're cooperative and therefore not a threat. Or if, maybe, they're afraid of what they are, too--of the havoc they can cause without even using their abilities, just by existing, and the damage that they can inflict on other mutants who are only trying to live in peace. It's exactly the reason why Kihyun and the rest of their group started actively searching for mutants, and it's scary how well Kihyun understands it.

As the mentions from his friends start coming in about people they know going missing and the news reports of suspects being brought in continue, Kihyun is unsurprised. This, he knows, has been coming for a long time.

But the days go by and the calls from his friends slow until they're almost extinct. Kihyun worries more and more about their well being and whether or not they've been found, and it forces him to confront the fact that he's the one forcing himself to hide, like he has always done, because that is his mutation: an elaborate method of hiding. And it is the only method that he has left to protect himself and everyone else--if the government can't find one of them, they cannot find the others.

These people who he sees on television, his friends--they're all people with families, a lot of them still kids. This need to protect others is his motivating thought, as it was before, when he decided to help track down mutants.

When the faces of Gunhee and Jooheon appear on screen, Kihyun turns off his phone and does not contact anyone until Hyunwoo returns that evening.

Reporters go wild.

Every news station and portal carries their own version of the breaking story about mutant-only groups operating in the shadows, in what could be any neighborhood, concealing unregistered and Level 4 mutants and who knows what else. Comments on websites blow up with all kinds of speculation about fight clubs to crime rings. With all of the attention, it's not long before the theories about mutant vigilantes surface; mutant witnesses come forth, silhouettes and altered voices to protect their identity from someone.

Even they know they're a hazard to society, reads part of the comment with the most votes.

Kihyun hunches over his laptop even as he knows that reading all of this and neglecting life is destructive--he's been through this before--but he can't look away. He's the spectator of a terrible accident, shock keeping him in place as he watches events unfold. He just needs to know what's going on because he can't shake the feeling that part of this is his fault, like he could have prevented this spiral if only.

It's not until he lashes out at Hoseok a few days later, unintentionally, that he snaps out of this daze.

"You can't live like this," Hoseok says, harsh, and biting. "I lived like this."

"What else are we supposed to do?" Kihyun demands; he's exhausted and can't remember a time when he wasn't in a constant state of worry over being found and putting himself or someone else in danger. He's so tired, and he finally understands what Yoonho meant when he was talking about drawing attention and being careless, and that burden of obligation to others while also needing to stay at a distance.

Hoseok sighs, hard. "Something," he says.

Kihyun doesn't protest.

Yoonho first learned about his own mutation when he was still very young, he told Kihyun when they were first getting to know each other, not long after Kihyun moved to the city. Both mutants and nonmutants had been trying to track Yoonho down ever since his ability appeared. Only a few people knew about it at the time--not even the full group at the meeting house.

When Kihyun asked why Yoonho told him, then, Yoonho said, "You get what it's like."

And Kihyun did, because his power had made him the center of envy, too.

It was why Yoonho always hated using it, he said. Never using it was the closest he could get to being invisible--the best way to cover his trail was to not make one in the first place.

"It keeps you normal," Kihyun said.

Yoonho told him, "No," and Kihyun didn't understand.

"But you can make people normal," Kihyun clarified, pressing, like he was so sure that he knew the answer.

"I guess," Yoonho said, and then the subject was dropped, and Kihyun never did figure out what Yoonho meant.

Kihyun has been thinking about that conversation a lot, lately.

Kihyun asks, tentative, "What if mutations just… disappeared?"

"I know what you're thinking," Kwangji says. "Don't."

"That's the end goal, though, isn't it?" Kihyun fusses with his umbrella to shake off some of the rain, finally able to close it under the awning of the bus stop. "Not having to keep catching people. Making the problem go away."

It's the most logical route to follow, Kihyun thinks. Nobody wants to live in a world of continuous fighting, so why would anyone allow the potential for it to keep happening when they could get rid of the problem for good? It's a conclusion that Kihyun has known of but hasn't wanted to admit for a while, now. He can't stop going back to the semester of school when he had to test for mutation sensitivity and wondering why that became part of the curriculum.

"Mutations will keep coming back unless they figure out a way to stop them from appearing in the first place," Kihyun says, "like cancer."

"Is that how you think of yourself?" Kwangji asks. His tone is so level despite Kihyun's implications, and Kihyun is left as the one who feels betrayed and insulted by his own words.

Kihyun says, "No," as he watches Kwangji watching traffic, and suddenly wishes that he had something to quench the burning in his throat and give him something else to do other than talk. "But everyone else does, and that's what seems to be important."

They fall into silence. All Kihyun thinks about is the sound of the rain and how much he wants to go inside somewhere and warm up but can't, not because he lacks energy, but because he can feel his willpower draining.

"Entire governments are involved," Kihyun says. It's wrong of him to push all of this onto Kwangji and demand answers, but Kihyun is at a loss. "We can't hide forever."

Kwangji tells him, "No, we can't," as if the answer is that simple.

Kihyun stays seated on the bench for a while after Kwangji leaves, but heads home before the rain stops and his umbrella is no longer needed.

"So," Yoonho says, "you just want to be human and not deal with anything any longer?"

Kihyun fights the urge to grimace at the implications of the word human. "They're looking for mutants." He takes a breath, slow, and he hopes not too shaky. "They've seen me. At least if I don't have a mutation when they find me, they might hit a dead end."

"You know that's never stopped them before." Yoonho sighs over the phone line. His words are sharp and accusatory. "Even if you get rid of your mutation, everyone else will still have theirs. We're still going to have to deal with the same problems that you won't have to."

Kihyun swallows. He's not doing this as an easy way out, he insists; there's nothing easy about deciding to give up part of who he is, and that along with his mutation he intends to make his connections with all of his friends disappear. Kihyun did that once already when he chose to leave with Hyunwoo and Hoseok. He wonders how much more of himself he needs to lose before things finally start to go right.

"I'm not turning my back on anyone," Kihyun says without bothering to mask the frustration in his voice, and he thinks that he can almost feel his heart increase its pace, anticipating.

"I know," Yoonho tells him, "but that's what it looks like, and that leaves me in a bad spot, too."

Kihyun worries at his lip, angry that Yoonho won't let him do this; they're all running out of options and running out of time even faster, judging from reports. But Kihyun is also angry at himself for putting Yoonho in this situation when he's spent all of his time trying to avoid it. If Kihyun loses his power, others will notice, and Kihyun will force more of that unwanted advertisement pointing in Yoonho's direction.

"I haven't done this in a long time for a reason," Yoonho says, as if to confirm Kihyun's thoughts. "So." There's a stretch of silence over the line, broken by occasional taps and clicks from Yoonho's side until he sighs, so tired, and says, "Think really hard about it."

Yoonho hangs up first before Kihyun can answer.

Minhyuk is, expectedly, too understanding.

Kihyun doesn't share all of the details, only mentions hypotheticals and hopes that it's enough.

"Do you ever think about it?" Kihyun asks. "What it would be like to be normal."

"Sure. Mutants wonder what it would be like to not have mutations all the time," Minhyuk says, and clearly means for Kihyun to notice the way he pointedly avoids the word normal. "It doesn't make you a traitor or anything."

It's what Kihyun wants to hear, but it doesn't help.

Kwangji has always been a reliable person, and for that Kihyun has been grateful. Since they first met, Kwangji has been someone trustworthy and supportive, who always somehow managed to look out for everyone. The only inconvenience is that Kwangji looks out for everyone. He understands their problems and then he acts on it, and that includes involving other people when necessary.

"You would just get rid of what you are?" Hoseok is so incredulous that Kihyun is taken aback for a moment. "What good would that even do?"

Kihyun retaliates, "You wouldn't?" It's partially to shoot something back so he doesn't appear uncertain, and partially because Hoseok is so opposed to the idea despite everything that he's been through. Kihyun doesn't get it.

"No! It's like…" Hoseok pauses and sighs, hard. "Would you even still really be you afterward?"

"Yes," Kihyun hisses, but again it's only a reflex response, and he immediately regrets it. He can feel that he's wrong but reason keeps telling him that this has to be the right answer. Or, at least, the one that is least incorrect. "If they just happen to find another human, maybe they'll have to look somewhere else."

Hyunwoo steps in this time and says, as everyone else has told Kihyun and as Kihyun knows himself, "There will be something else to find." He adds, with what might be disappointment, "You do what you think is best."

Kihyun doesn't want to acknowledge that the MAA will keep looking. He can control this much, at least.

He heads to his room without another word, and doesn't sleep.

On the night when Kihyun first met what would become his new group of friends, after he and Hyunwoo and Hoseok had been traveling between cities for months and making sure that they never stayed in one place for too long, Kihyun thought that they might have finally found a place that was right for them. Nowhere else they had passed through felt safe--they'd seen more than enough shops with signs that indicated no mutants allowed or human only.

Here, though, the city had at least originally appeared indifferent, and the group of mutants they found had been established a long time ago. They knew each other, and looked out for each other, and trusted each other, and Kihyun could see a future. He knew everyone else must have seen it too, or else they wouldn't have still been there. It's the reason why, now, Kihyun can't stop wondering why things between all of them had gone so wrong.

At the same time, he can't help but wonder if events would have unfolded any other way. Maybe, Kihyun thinks, that future they had all imagined had just been another elaborate illusion to fool themselves.

"I like how you're always so sure about everything," Minhyuk had said to Kihyun early in their time of knowing each other. "But I guess that's part of your job description."

Kihyun didn't tell him that it wasn't, really. He only had to act like it was. And maybe, after all of his time spent running away or hiding, Kihyun was a little tired of pretending.

So Hoseok's words about Kihyun losing himself keep echoing in Kihyun's mind as he collapses into his bed--his bed in his home with the people who are the only ones he has known to trust since everything began. These people who are with him because of his mutation, and who may not be there much longer because of his mutation. Kihyun can stay locked inside of his home and try make the rest of the world forget that he exists, but like anything else that Kihyun creates, it would be temporary. And he might not be the only one exposed when that inevitably fails.

Kihyun breathes deep and scrolls through his phone until he settles on Yoonho's number, and he wonders once again about what he has to lose.