Disclaimer: Refer to first chapter.

Canon compliant but not canon.

Hidden in the shadows of a loud world was one of the few children Minho had never spoken to. He was a small boy, this one; a boy with shaggy, ginger-streaked blond hair. He had a pale complexion, almost as pale as the only paper-like bark of the birch tree, but thankfully not that pale. With his golden-bronze hair, streaked with soft strands of gingers, ranging from the soft tone of a small and flickering fire to the brilliant streaks of dark orange like the darkening leaves of a maple tree, the boy was not hard to pick out from a crowd. Despite his orange-streaked hair, it was his eyes that really drew Minho's attention then. Despite having first seen the smaller, younger boy a few years before, Minho still hadn't spoken to him, which was saying something; Minho spoke to everyone he possibly could. Something about this particular boy had warned Minho away.

It was an unexplainable feeling, almost an aura. If such an aura were to have a colour, the colour of the streaky-haired boy would be an icy blue. It was such a pale colour, yet very dramatic as well. It radiated out from the boy almost like rays of the sun radiating out from the centre of the sun. Imagine that an aura were an eye. The iris was ice blue and flecked with colours, rings of colours, that spiralled out. While most of the boy's aura was the icy blue that warned Minho away, the flecks were the truly terrifying part. First, placed in a tight ring around the 'pupil' was an enchanting and mystical dark blue. Each fleck seemed to be the size of a small pebble in the aura, or merely a torn piece of a tiny leaf in an actual eye. Following that ring was an equally dark and mystical purple, scattered into the first ring slightly and spanning the centre of the 'iris'. Each fleck was the size of a tiny piece of glitter in an aura or a speck of dust in an actual eye. The final ring was created from widespread flecks of yellow, each fleck the size of the purple flecks in the icy blue. To Minho, always one for mystique and the unknown, spirituality if he was being honest with himself, each colour of the 'iris' meant something.

First, the icy blue symbolized the intellectual and overwhelming side of the boy. Following that was dark blue, representing a side filled with knowledge and power through such knowledge with a severity mixed within giving him his seemingly warning aura. Then was the dark purple that showed sadder events in the boy's past; dark purple was a frustrated and gloomy colour. Finally was yellow, showing the side that the boy tried to hide. Yellow was not only the colour of curiosity, but also wisdom and spirituality. Not only that, but yellow was also a cheerful colour, filled with joy and freedom. It was easily clear to Minho that this boy was a very complicated person.

His footsteps were soft as Minho smiled his friends goodbye, walking on to where the boy stood, half-hidden in the shadows. Minho plopped down cheerfully at the table nearest the boy and smiled at the younger boy brightly. His tablemates, a couple of girls, Ellie, Lisa, and Lou, a boy named Dave and another boy called Jake, all gave him a cheerful 'Hello!' and Minho waved back brightly, flashing a pure white smile- he could not remember the last time he had not brushed his teeth. It was just another thing that had been drilled into him since he had arrived at the WICKED Headquarters.

"Hey," Minho called over to the streaked-haired boy. "Why don't 'cha sit down?"

Hesitantly, the boy stepped from the shadows, revealing his glowing, dark blue eyes filled with quiet mystique. He did not speak, simply watched Minho with a lock of his shaggy, pale orange hair falling across his eyes. It was only that one strand that was out of place, the rest of the boy's hair meticulously tucked behind his ears. As Minho watched, the boy brought one hand up to tuck the stray lock behind his ear before lowering his hand and continuing to watch Minho just as the dark-haired boy watched him.

"I'm Minho! Wha's yer name, shank?"

To Minho's disappointment and irritation, the boy did not answer for quite a while, seeming to ponder what he should say. Finally, a full five- the horror -minutes later, the boy spoke. "Ben." His voice was a low murmur that drew no attention to himself. Minho could hardly here him over the loudly spoken words and laughter of the cafeteria they were within. It was a fitting voice for the boy, Minho decided. No, not the boy. Ben. His name was Ben. "Might I ask why you care?"

Oh, harsh! Minho just grinned so brightly that his smile stretched the length of his face with ease. "I dunno. I just do. Eyy, why'd 'cha never speak to nobody?"

Ben's face contorted into an expression of confusion. "I do not speak to Nobody. I speak to those who exist, not Nobody."

It was Minho's turn to be confused. He had not expected the younger boy to take his words so literally. Changing topic seemed like a good idea just then. "How old are you? I'm nine, almost ten."

Sighing, Ben replied grudgingly. "Seven. I repeat. Why do you wish to speak to me?"

Minho sighed. It seemed he was not able to avoid that particular question. "I've spoken to everyone else in here. I've met the Brit, Newt, who doesn't speak to anyone. I'm friends with Clint who never stops talking. Sonya glares at me every time I speak to her, same with Harriet. Beth and I have been friends since we arrived, even if she is younger than me. I feel like I've known Gally my entire life. Thing is, Benny-boy, you're the only dude here I haven't spoken to. I have a rep to uphold! Speak to all, friends with all. I-"

"I thought you said Sonya and Harriet glare at you," Ben interrupted calmly, watching Minho with a note of curiosity in his gaze.

"Well they do, but we're still friends. As I was saying, I know everyone! I'm friends with everyone! I'm a favourite!"

Ben studied him warily. "Then why does the blond boy you speak of, the Brit, Newt, not like you? I have spoken to Newt. He holds contempt for everyone here. Even you, Minho. Why do you not go sit with him? Newt is lonely." His mysterious blue eyes blinked up at Minho in an innocent manner.

Minho sighed once again. "I like Newt, I really do, but I don't want to risk loosing all my other friends."

"A true friend stays with you forever. A fake friend is only with you for popularity. I suggest you rethink your friends."

And with that, the mysterious boy sank back into the shadows, his eyes glowing in the dark, ginger-streaked hair tucked neatly behind his ears.

Yay! My next chapter is done! Ben is one of my favourite characters in the Maze Runner. I would like the thank 'The real world is scary' once again for supporting my want to do a chapter for Ben. I would also like to thank 'ThePhantomRunnerOfLesMiserables'. The next chapter will be Gally and Thomas.