Now You See Me

The little angel continued to look at his hands. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to argue; he didn’t have anything to argue with. He didn’t know where to go or what to do if he did go. The unknown was too scary. At least he knew the monsters at home.

Juko side-eyed Ian. Now that he thought about it, Rekker was on his own, too. Rekker was strong and capable. Apparently Ian was, too, even if he was smaller. Juko was neither strong nor capable.

“Really?” Was being on your own really fun? Had Ian really been alone for ages–how long was “ages?“ Ian didn’t look that old, so Juko couldn’t imagine it was that long. Was ages just another way of saying years? He felt he would look silly if he asked that.

Ian nodded, finally relaxing enough to put his legs down and sit proper--but still maintaining his distance. He didn’t want Juko getting any ideas about getting closer. He’d really squished him earlier and he didn’t much feel like getting any other bruises today. Or ever. If Ian could never ever lay hands on another person for as long as he lived, he thought that would be just fine. 

“Really. Better than where I was f’sure. Get to do whatever you want, whenever you want. No one t’boss you ‘round or hold you down. Better.” He shrugged. “But it’s easier for me t’get around than most people. I can get anywhere I want no matter what, long as nothin’s got a hold on me.” 

Juko pulled in the wing closest to Ian, remembering to be mindful of Ian’s space. He let it droop behind himself, relaxed but out of the way. His mood fell a little when Ian asked his question. It didn’t crash and burst into flames or become so somber everyone felt like crying. It just dipped, shrunk on itself and became quieter.

Juko gave Ian the smallest of sad smiles. The kind where the person knew they could technically leave the situation, but for what? Would he really leave the only shelter he had for a shot somewhere else? Here wasn’t great, but it was all he had. At least here he could sometimes hide from the rain, and he could sometimes eat. He had a room. He could sleep here. He’d never make it anywhere else. He looked at his hands in his lap and twirled his thumbs.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m no good by myself.”

Ian shrugged, seemingly oblivious to Juko’s plight. He’d remembered feeling that way, once. He remembered feeling hopeless and trapped. He never wanted to feel that way again. He was sure if Juko could just get a taste of what life was like when you didn’t have someone’s hand around your throat... he’d be fine. Not that Ian cared. He only cared about himself. 

“There’s lotsa places to go, if you look. An’ you’re not completely alone.”

Was that an invitation? Or an observation? Ian didn’t want to think about it. Or admit it, more like.

Juko got the running start, or more like the few booster steps, that helped him get a good enough jump to plant both his hands on the floor above the rockwall and haul himself up. Easy peasy–well, granted he cheated a little bit and used his wings to give him a little extra boost.

He only put one knee on the platform, deciding not to climb all the way up but to roll to the side to sit and let his legs dangle over the edge he just climbed up. He scooted over so Ian had enough room to get up.

“Wolf says if I’m gonna take up one of his rooms I have to ‘earn my keep.’ He doesn’t take kindly to jävla parasit.” Even coming from his mouth, the insult was rough, his lip curling to mimic the snarling expression usually accompanied with the words.

Even though Ian didn’t have any wings, getting up the rockwall was a breeze. He used one of the sparse hand-holds as a stepping stone and pulling himself up, much like Juko did. He sat beside his friend, closer than they’d ever been, but he was careful not to get close enough they touched. He still was recovering from being grabbed earlier. 

Ian didn’t know what a Java Parasite was, either, but he didn’t have to know what it meant to know what it meant. He’d been around Jacob and his goons long enough to know an insult when he heard it. 

The playground was simple, clearly not the neighboring city’s biggest or most important expense. Old faded paint hinted that it used to be colorful with reds and yellows, now all chipping away to reveal bare wood rotting away in some places. It was composed of one low to the ground platform with a few steps that connected to the bigger platform via a precarious looking rope bridge. From there, the boys could climb up an easy “rockwall” (it had so few handholds that it was easier to run and jump up to grab the top and haul yourself up) to a shaded platform right before the one and only slide. To the left was a swing set with three swings. Two were operational. To the right was a simple dome jungle gym.

Juko stayed in step with Ian until they made it to the playground. He jumped onto the rope bridge, squeezing between the ropes and skipping the first platform all together.

“All the time, whenever I can. Usually when all my chores are done. I try to get here before I’m given more. I only play up here when the other kids aren’t here though.” He wrinkled his nose, remembering a few unpleasant experiences. “I’ll spend all day here if I can. I like to sit under the bridge. That’s where I met you.”

Juko flashed Ian a bright grin before crossing the rest of the bridge.

Ian mirrored Juko’s movements like a shadow, silent and graceful as a cat. He liked obstacles--and he was good at them, too. Seemed sometimes like the only thing he was good at was running away. 

He remembered meeting Juko. He remembered falling into the pond, of course. That wasn’t as fun, but it wasn’t so bad. He didn’t mind getting wet, or dirty, as long as he was doing it on his own terms. Also, the memory attached itself to Juko. And he liked Juko, too. As much as he liked anyone, anyway. 

The park it was. Juko checked the coast one more time then stepped out onto the sidewalk. He lead Ian through the streets, showing him shortcuts along the way. Some involved climbing, others involved crawling. He told Ian who to avoid, and who could be ally. They crossed the city in no time and were back at the border of the park once more.

“Wanna play on the park?” Juko asked, inclining his head towards the actual playground within the park grounds. It wasn’t big or really that impressive, but it had things to climb on and swings.

Ian absorbed the information Juko gave him like a sponge. He always had a great memory--especially when it came to things like this. Anything that could be useful to him later he tucked away into his memory like he was filing away paperwork. He knew he’d recall it in clarity. 

Rather than answer Juko, Ian simply nodded and started walking that direction, hands still in his pockets. He felt a little better from earlier, but was still sort of antsy and uncomfortable. He’d probably stay like that until he slept again, unfortunately. 

Juko let the shadows drop as soon as Ian declined. They disappeared just as before, receding back into their natural places in the alleyway. He made a mental note not to use his shadows too much around Ian, not at all if he could help it. Ian didn’t like them. He didn’t want Ian to be afraid of them. He didn’t want Ian to be afraid of him. The shadows were weird; Juko understood this.

“Okay.” Juko used the wall to pull himself up stiffly. “Follow me. I know a way out of here.”

He brought Ian to the end of the alley to what looked like a dead end. But hidden behind some crates was a hole in the wall, not big enough for any average adult, but big enough for two scrawny boys if they went one by one. Juko stepped through. On the other side was a patch of soft dirt–watered recently seemingly–between two buildings. A lattice ran up one wall, decroded and pitiful, yet it still managed to support a handful of plants. Little sprouts pushed up through the dirt at their feet.

“Don’t step on Madame Hybi’s plants. If you’re nice to her plants, she’ll give you fruit when they grow.”

Juko tiptoed carefully along a practiced path. Upon any close inspection, footprints could be seen in the dirt on the very path Juko was copying. The dirt patch ended at a sidewalk. Juko checked the coast to make sure it was clear. He nodded to himself, then looked at Ian.

“Where do you want to go? The park?”

Ian was silently relieved as Juko accepted his answer and backed away. He really didn’t want to touch anything right now, if he could help it. Nothing alive, anyway. Juko seemed to at least understand a little bit, for which he was grateful. 

He slipped through the hole in the wall, careful to walk around the plants as he was instructed. He didn’t know who this “Madame Hybi” was, but if she was giving out food, she probably was alright. Ian loved food. 

Juko tilted his head to one side. It took him a second to realize Ian had meant his shadows and that Ian wasn’t from around here. Not everyone knew about what he controlled. He straightened up a little on his knees. A fuzzy blob of black formed at his back before it extended out, solidifying into the tentacle that had snagged Ian before. Then it split into seven, spreading out in a radial behind Juko. He let one curl forward and twirl around his hand.

“It’s my um, power, they say. I don’t know why I’ve got this one; I just do. Others have different ones. Like Rekker with lightning or W…Wolf with ice.”

The bubble reformed from the ground, again flowing in reverse with the soft reminiscence of wind. The boys were cast into dimmer light once more, but Juko didn’t make it so dark this time. This time it was like sitting under leafy shade versus hiding away like before. The tendrils shrunk some.

“I don’t know how to do much with it, but I can pick stuff up and hide. I can make shapes and puppets.”

He could do more, but he didn’t want to tell Ian about the bad stuff he could do with his powers. He didn’t like to use them like that. He liked it better when they were soft. Touchable. Like a blanket he could hide under or a toy he could hold.

“You can touch them if you want. They feel kind of like feathers or air.”

Ian continued to eye Juko with suspicion and disbelief. He didn’t like those shadows, not one bit, but he supposed it wasn’t any weirder than his teleporting. Just another kind of magic he didn’t understand. He thought magic was rare on Earth, but if Juko had some, and Rekker had some, and whoever this Wolf guy was had some, it couldn’t be that strange. Or maybe only people with wings had magic, that was also possible. He didn’t know for sure, he was an alien. 

“I don’t want to touch them.” Ian said, a little faster than was strictly necessary. He tightened his arms around himself, still curled tightly into a little ball. “I don’t wanna touch anyone. Don’t like it.” 

Despite it being a flimsy threat–Ian didn’t lunge or swat; he actually backed away– Juko still flinched himself, giving back the space he’d just took from Ian. His wings snapped close to his body; his eyes got big and watery. He kept quiet, waiting for Ian to continue, to yell, to throw something at him, to do something. Juko obviously crossed a line and now he had to take the repercussions.

He tensed when Ian moved. Surprisingly, Ian didn’t move towards him. He didn’t even really yell. He even said thank you.

“I’m–” Juko paused to swallow the lump in his throat– “I’m sorry.”

Ian eyed Juko like he wasn’t sure whether to believe him. In truth, he really wasn’t. Juko seemed sincere, and certainly wasn’t getting any closer. That was the best thing--Ian really, really didn’t want Juko to touch him again. Not even with one of his--his.... his what? 

“What was--wha’ was that? Wh-- the shadows?”  

The bubble expanded slightly when Ian scampered to the edge of it. It wouldn’t let Ian touch it, keeping a few inches of buffer between him and the dangers of the light outside. It continued to rustle and whistle softly over the sounds of the boys’ ragged breaths.

Minutes passed in tense silence until finally the bubble faded. The wisps of shadow sunk to the ground and seemed to dissolve into the dirt. Juko listened for voices or footsteps. He stiffly scooted forward to peer around the crates then up and around at the rooftops. The coast was clear.

Juko sagged back against the wall, the tension melting away from his body. Well, some of the tension. His stomach wasn’t in knots anymore, but he was ready to spring if the men showed up again. He hoped they wouldn’t. He needed a minute. He was still trying to recover from his last round with the likes of them. And the punishment before that. And the one before that. He squeezed his eyes shut. They were so mean…

He turned his head towards Ian. Had the men touched him? He shuddered at the thought. Though his body protested, Juko pulled himself onto his knees and an inch closer to Ian.

“Are you okay? They didn’t hit you did they?”

Ian didn’t raise his head when the bubble dissolved, despite knowing full well that it had. He supposed that meant Juko thought they were safe--and consequently they were safe, because Juko knew better than he did. Still, he kept his head down, arms crossed, squeezing himself tightly and keeping his breathing even. He was tired and sick to his stomach... being confined had only served to make his nausea worse. 

Juko inched closer and Ian flinched back, his head finally coming up to snarl at him in disgust. It was a weak threat, accompanied by a clear discomfort rather than malice. “Don’t--” Ian murmured, teeth grit so tightly his jaw ached. He took a steadying breath, blowing air out his nose. “Don’t touch me. Ever. Don’t.” 

As Ian began to thrash, the tendril tightened, threatening to do more than just squeeze the air out of his lungs if he continued to fight. It dug into Ian’s torso and held him down and against the wall with more force than before. The men had walked away, but Juko knew better.

“Don’t leave.” Juko’s voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper, but it carried as much urgency as any yell could. “They’re watching.”

Slowly, once he was confident Ian wouldn’t escape, the tendril loosened and retracted behind Juko’s back. Juko never turned his head. He remained tense, focus aimed nowhere else but on the threats outside the confines of their bubble. The men would wait. He knew they would. They would wait and look and hover just outside where they saw them last. If the boys made a run for it, they would see. They would see. They would catch them.

Ian choked as he was squeezed, pressed against the wall. He was choking, he was dying, he couldn’t get away--it was everything Ian hated most. He’d just prepared himself to give Juko a kick to the head when the feeling lessened, loosened. He waited one more second and it was gone completely as if it were never there. 

The minute Ian felt himself freed, he clambered backwards, blue eyes full of fear. He didn’t leave the bubble--he knew it offered safety from the outside--but he got as far away from Juko as he was able. He felt like he was going to throw up.