He had felt it the moment they brought her into the lab, even before her shouting echoed down the hall to reach his ears.
There had been a shift in the hatred, the fear, the disdain that clouded every movement he made. Panic, a terror so bone-deep that it had shot through his core like a knife, flooded him for a moment before he could reign in his gift.
The beaker he had been holding in his hand spilled its contents over the lab surface, knocking over a vial and sending shards of glass clattering like diamonds over the counter.
A split second later, her shrieking had filled the room.
He'd been berated for his mistake, of course, but interest in his mistakes—no matter how they delighted the others—waned as she was dragged past, fighting against the restraints that held her to a hospital bed.
Their eyes had met, sapphire and ruby, for the first time.
She'd silently pleaded with him to understand, to do something, to help her—and, blood having drained from his face, he had done the only thing he could think of.
As quickly as he could, he pressed a needle of tranquilizer to the inner flesh of her wrist, his eyes pleading with her, in turn, to understand.
That night he had found himself lying awake in bed, thinking of her.
The selection process picked out those who had natural empathetic abilities, and chose the strongest among them. Those that remained would have been weeded out until only the ideal candidate remained, the one whose brain needed no unlocking, who already had abilities most could only dream of.
He could hardly fathom it. Finally. She was like him.
The next day he had slipped a chocolate into her half-curled fist, whispering softly into her ear that he was glad she was there and vanishing before anyone could notice.
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"Why are you…Why do you treat me differently than the others?" She'd asked it abruptly, the words tumbling out in a rush that had rendered him speechless for a moment.
"…Does there have to be a reason, Sai?"
"No one does anything without a motive." There had been a trace of bitterness—not in her voice, but pouring out from around her, into his mind.
At that moment, he had realized that words would get him nowhere for the first time. There had not been a way he could verbally explain it for her.
So he'd reached out, latched onto her with his mind as tightly as he could. Willed her to understand. He had focused with all the intensity he could muster, felt her conscious just out of reach—
"..Shin…? Are you listening?"
He'd felt an empty hole open within him then, and he'd opened his eyes to stare out her, at the faint confusion flickering in the depths of her eyes and her concern.
He hadn't known whether it was because she was untrained or not as strong as he, but then—then—he'd known that Glass Cage would not work.
He'd disregarded the though immediately, horrified. There was still time—she was just new. It had taken him months to get control of himself, and expecting her to do so in a few weeks was ridiculous. He had just tried too early.
He'd known then that was a lie, too.
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"…Doctor Shin?" Her voice had been oddly timid. He had grown used to her shouting, cursing at the scientists and doctors as they wheeled her into surgery, put her under and cut her flesh. She had obviously not come willingly to the laboratory—and that had bothered him.
Even then, her fear had remained constant.
"Yes?" He'd asked softly, turning to look at her.
"…Am I…am I really here for the Glass Cage Project?" Her voice had barely been above a whisper.
Her eyes had been haunted when she stared at him.
She was not of a traditional beauty. Her curves, hidden only by a thin medical gown, were full and prominent. The sweep of her neck was long, marred by scars the scientists had given her, and many of them trialed lower than her collarbone. Her eyes were large, her dark brown hair—highlighted in various shades—had been cut short, and often they fell over her eyes.
He had heard the comments some of the other scientists made about her, lewd things accompanied by winks and nudges and raucous laughter smelling of smoke.
"Are you alright?" She'd asked, unease slowly unfurling from her. He had realized with a start, a sort of marvel, she'd sensed his anger.
He had let out a sigh and settled at the foot of her bed, surprising her.
"You have not been lied to, that I know of. You are at the Glass Cage facility, and you have been chosen as the catalyst. I…The tests they run on you now…I do not think they are necessary. I don't know what they are for, or what they hope to achieve."
Her face had paled.
"But, for what it's worth…Thank you. I understand you didn't necessarily want to come…but thank you anyway." He'd added, voice suddenly as vulnerable as hers had been.
She'd blinked at him, silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled.
He'd been taken aback by how brilliant it was. Joy had touched the air around him, tentative and hesitant but still unmistakable.
"I suppose we should introduce ourselves properly. My name is Sai."
"No last name?"
"Nothing that concerns you, or myself." She'd replied, tilting her head up, a sort of somber mischief glittering in her smile and her eyes.
"Call me Shin. No titles, please." He'd finally replied.
"You're so young, though. Only a few years older than I am. What are you doing here?"
Lazily, he'd reached up and tapped Sai's temple. He hadn't spoken, just let his emotions slowly leek out, watching with concealed awe as she understood immediately what it was he'd meant.
If they were the future, he'd thought, then the future would be beautiful.
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They'd stolen her youth, her life, her family, her home, her dignity. Then, they stole her body from her.
Blood samples had been taken, until she was pale and trembled with blood loss. Bruises had blossomed across her flesh, scars and inked reference lines painting a cruel map across her skin. Tubes had been inserted, wires teased into place.
Her eyes had grown dull with fatigue.
He'd begun dropping off little things for her more often. Candies, flowers, books, magazines. One day he brought her a knit hat in her favorite colors. She refused to take it off.
He had begun sleeping at the lab—nothing unusual for him, save that he always slept in a chair in her room, spent hours quietly talking to her. Nights like those had slowly grown more frequent.
"Ah…Shin?" He'd blinked, looking up from the papers he'd been going over-Logistics he'd taken from a file he wasn't supposed to have access to containing her data, edited by him to compare against his own data.
He'd been stronger than her, but only just. The level of ability she'd held without having needed assistance…It had been incredible.
"Yes?"
"I'm bored."
He had blinked at her again, uncomprehending for a moment.
"…And?"
"Is there anything to do? I've been in this bed for three weeks, and I haven't been allowed to leave the room."
"There's a pack of cards somewhere, I think. And there might be stuff somewhere else."
"Did you just say-"
"Don't say it!" He'd groaned, dropping his head into his hands. She'd laughed, a beautiful sound that had sent his cheeks flaming, making him grateful his face was covered.
Despite it all, he'd still been young. He'd never had anything close to a friend before her.
And he'd certainly never said stuff.
"Stuff." She'd choked out, laughing again. His face had reddened and he'd stood up, adjusting his glasses as he tucked the logistics into an unmarked folder.
"I have some good news, I suppose. Glass Cage activates in the morning. This will be over in less than twenty-four hours." At first his words had no effect on her. She stared up at him with a sort of half-smile on her lips, expression frozen between amusement and confusion.
"…I…will I…will I be able to…to go home?" She'd asked, eyes widening and a strange mixture of hope and terror on her face. The change had been sudden, sharp. It had brought a smile to his own face.
Back then, he'd believed, still. Not in others, but in her. Her ability, and her purpose. Despite the nagging darkness that had crept into his thoughts when he was alone, in the black of night, he had truly thought she would be capable of it.
After all, the experiment had worked with him. Why wouldn't it work with her, when she was so much more suitable to the task than he?
"Of course."
Back then, he'd believed he was telling the truth.
"I'm so glad." Tears had flooded her eyes, and she'd hurried to dispel them. He had offered her a tissue, a smile touching his lips. She'd looked up at him and reached out, but rather than grab the tissue she'd grasped his wrist, holding it tightly as her eyes burned into his.
"Shin? I…Come visit me, alright? When I'm back home. Please."
"…Alright." He had said, surprised.
And something inside of him had melted, to see joy light up her face as it had then.
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That night had been one of panic and fear and lights flashing so brilliantly they almost blinded him to the feeling of death surrounding him, of all of his coworkers crumpling like dolls.
The failsafe almost didn't catch her in time.
He remembered his relief, as his vision darkened and the floor rose up to swallow him and his body fell numb, when the mainframe began to glow a pale blue.
He had tried to reach out to her mind, as his relief faded.
To tell her he loved her.
His last breath had escaped his lungs before he could feel any sort of response—or lack thereof.
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He never knew if she heard him.
He never would.