A boy turned into a monster by chance.
A monster in the guise of a boy.
Yiran wasn’t sure who was who.
“For what it’s worth, your father has nothing to do with this,” Yuki said, his voice carrying a trace of pleading. “Our meeting on the highway wasn’t an accident, but I’m here with you now because I want to be.”
It sounded like a confession. Had he been grappling with this for a while?
Yuki cleared his throat, as if brushing off what he’d just said. “Anyway, what do you plan to do? Are you returning to the family you’ve always known or the father who wants you back?”
“I hate my grandfather” was all Yiran said.
Yuki made a sympathetic sound. “And the second option?”
“I don’t know.” His father might be bad news, but at least he had offered answers.
A commotion was starting at the front of the restaurant.
Yuki craned his neck. “What’s going on?”
“Stay here.”
Yiran got up, taking cautious steps until he could see what was happening. Two Exorcists had entered. By a stroke of luck, they were being distracted by a bunch of hooligans who were heckling them.
He hurried back. “Exorcists. We need to go.”
“There should be a back door through the kitchen,” Yuki said, looking sicklier than before.
The kitchen staff gave them sour looks, but no one tried to stop themas they dashed through, and they went out into the alleyway behind the restaurant. Yuki stopped and leaned against the concrete wall.
“We need to leave the neighborhood,” Yiran urged. “The Exorcists patrol in a loop, and—Yuki—”
He caught the other boy before he hit the ground.
The Hybrid’s chest was heaving. He looked disoriented, eyes glittering like silver coins.
He needs to feed, Yiran realized with a start.
Fear flashed across Yuki’s face when he sensed that Yiran knew. “Get away from me.” He gave Yiran a shove in the chest and staggered toward the main street.
A bigger street meant more people. More people meant more yangqi. It was a recipe for disaster.
Swearing, Yiran ran after him. “Stay close to me,” he hissed, grabbing Yuki’s arm.
Yuki struggled. “Get away from—”
“Shut up and follow me.” Yiran tightened his hold on the other boy’s arm.
Looking conflicted, Yuki nodded, accepting that Yiran could guide him to safety. He kept his head down as they walked through the milling crowd. His fingers interlocked with Yiran’s, gripping him so tightly that Yiran’s hand was turning numb.
Yiran remembered a small park a few blocks east. It was usually empty, and it was the quickest way to get Yuki away from the normies. But getting there without incident was another matter. The shortest path was cutting through a huge intersection with a scramble crossing. It was rotten timing: rush hour on a Friday evening. The pedestrian lights were red, and the after-work crowd was building up at all four corners.
“We’ll take the diagonal crossing,” Yiran said, wincing as Yuki’s nails dug deeper into his flesh. He could feel the other boy’s tremors. “Can you control it?”
Yuki gave a faint nod. He was leaning into Yiran like a drunk person, which ironically helped their situation. Assuming they were delinquents,the office workers were throwing the two teenagers dirty looks and avoiding them.
There was a beep. The pedestrian light turned green. The crowd surged from all four corners.
