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FOR THREE YEARS, NI-KI'S LIFE HAS BEEN SIMPLE. Maybe it hasn't been the childhood he expected. Maybe it's been dangerous, and reckless, and at times, utterly lonely, but it could have been worse. He could have ended up in a government camp, subjected to cruel experiments, malnourished and abused. He could have ended up a weapon instead of a human, working with The League and using his "gifts" to fight a war he wasn't interested in. He could have ended up dead.

And maybe what he endured in place of the other possible sufferings was worse. Lord knows that Ni-ki's life hasn't exactly been easy. In reality, it's been anything but. 

But he survived. Nishimura Riki survived.

He found a new family in place of old, replacing his previous idealizations of his teenage years with a frightening reality that was far from daydreams. But nevertheless, it was his, and Ni-ki always protected what was his.

Because of this, one can imagine just how peeved he currently found himself to be met with the eyes of the individual who he already knew was going to mess everything up.

In an instant, Jungwon raises his arms, hands set wide and pointed at the younger boy. He taps into his powers, feeling it course through him and as a result, the strangers hands jerk upwards above his head- almost as if he were a criminal claimed by the police.

The boy stiffens as he feels his arms move against his will, but makes no efforts to fight it. If anything, he sinks further into the hold, slumping over slightly. His shoulders sag as if the weight of the world has just been taken off of them. Defeating silence fills the air, only interrupted by the sounds of 8 boy's breathing, some heavier and quicker than others out of fear or exertion.

The others watch, startled, as the boy still underneath the influence of Jungwon's abilities stays still, head lolling forward out of what seems like defeat- or relief. His eyes flash up, finally making contact with that of the completely still body of the Tracer. Ni-ki swears the boy flinches as he watches her, as if she could spring back to life at any given moment.

"What are you going to do with her?" The boy squeaks, voice barely above a whisper.

The others exchange glances, not sure what to tell him, still internally wondering whether he's an enemy or an ally.

"Leave her here. Kill her. Release her. We don't know yet." Heeseung finally responds, noting the younger boy gulping as he mentions the third option. "That doesn't answer the question of what you were doing with her." He concludes, choosing his words carefully.

The boy remains silent, mouth opening and closing a few times as he attempts to speak, though no words escape his mouth. He takes a deep breathe, sagging once again.

"I was her trophy." He finally settles on, the words barely leaving his lips.

His response seems to only pose more questions, though none of the boys make an effort to ask them. They share confused glances, still lost on their views of the stranger. Through their glances, though, they seem to settle on common ground- that he doesn't quite seem like a threat. Nodding to the others for confirmation, Jungwon hesitantly lowers his arms, releasing his grasp on the boy. The unnamed doesn't say anything as he falls forward, knees sinking into the ground. He moves his now free hands to cover his mouth, muffling whatever sounds being released. The boys stare in confusion, completely unsure what to do. Should they comfort the boy? Restrain him? Kill him?

Jake apparently settles on an answer, taking a few steps forward until he's mere inches from the boy. He crouches down carefully, wordlessly offering a hand to him.

Every alarm in Ni-ki begins to ring. He's an orange, he wants to scream. Don't let him touch you, we don't know what he's capable of. The words blaze in his mind, though he never speaks them. He can't count on his fingers how many times those words have been hurled at him, and the strange empathy from earlier returns as he sees the boy's surprised expression, proving he most likely has dealt with the same treatment.

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