Code 61

Chapter 7

I staggered as soon as solid ground met my feet. The dizziness I felt earlier seemed to come rushing back and my stomach knotted itself in response. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

Jongin patted me on the back. "At least you didn't throw up this time."

I threw a glare at him. "There's nothing to throw up."

"Oh, right. Don't worry, Lay-hyung makes great soup. We'll get you filled up in no time."

Lay's place turned out to be a cozy diner bathed in yellow fluorescent lights and served a variety of soup. Outside, a grimy sign of the business name in a typeface that would've been popular a century ago decorated its façade. My nose wrinkled as we walked past the garbage piled at the sidewalk. A small bell chimed when Kyungsoo pushed the door open.

A man in a pink polo and white apron was wiping the tables. He looked up at the sound of our arrival and smiled. Two impressive dimples surfaced on both of his cheeks when he beamed at Kyungsoo. "When you said you'd come by often, I took it to mean you'll come back at least once a week," he said by way of greeting. "I don't even remember the last time you were here."

"I'm not surprised with how easily you forget," Kyungsoo replied lightheartedly. "Anything for us?"

"I'm supposed to be closing up so I can go home early," the guy replied hesitantly.

"Well, we need your help with this one. Sehun had too much fun with him." Jongin pointed a thumb at me.

"Why's he topless?"

Right, I forgot I didn't have any shirt on.

"He's a pyro," Kai answered and the guy nodded as if it explained everything. Maybe he's had his fair share of shirtless guys. I didn't even want to ask. It wasn't something you brought up in polite conversations.

The guy turned to Kyungsoo. "There are leftovers in the fridge that you can heat up."

Kyungsoo and Jongin took it as their cue to leave and disappeared into the kitchen. The guy gestured for me to sit at one of booths close to the windows. Outside, the sky had taken on a golden hue.

Seeing my discomfort, he introduced himself first. "My name is Yixing, but people here call me Lay."

"You're not from Seoul?" I asked, noticing his name.

"I am, but my family migrated here years before I was born."

"Are you..." I began to ask but realised I didn't know exactly what to call us. Different? Special? Society labelled us as aberrants, but more often than not, they meant it as insult.

He must've sense my reticence because he smiled warmly, the two dimples reappearing. He held out his hand. "Like you? Yes, I also have abilities. I'm a healer."

I'd heard about healers. They had a purpose beneficial to society, so they were usually treated better than what most aberrants experienced, including me. There wasn't much difference, except for the fact that people often look at them in awe instead of terror. I used to wish I was one. It just so happened life decided to play a joke on me and gave me abilities to destroy, not to heal.

I took his outstretched hand and shook it. "Chanyeol," I said. "A pyro."

"I've heard. Looks like you broke a few ribs. Is it painful?" he asked as soon as I settled down.

I shook my head. "It's throbbing dully, but it doesn't hurt that much."

His hand hovered over my torso, and if it wasn't for the clinical precision with which he assessed me and the seriousness of his face, I would've freaked out. His eyes glowed with a dim light, almost greyish, and I felt better almost immediately.