Riiiinggg
Beeep
DingDing

The sound of numerous clocks and watches filled the air as they tried to advance into a sleeping mind.

Where did I put it. I have to find it. He found himself searching for something. But what had it been? First he turned his room upside down, scattering clothes everywhere, until the color of the floor was no longer distinguishable as it turned into a raging sea of grey greens and browns with specks of black and white in between them. The light of the sun made it throw odd shadows on the walls. The best way to describe it would be a dance. A flowing of shadows, of motions creeping across the walls in the reddening light of the sun.
Sweating heavily he finally reasted on his windowstill and looked on the setting sun. The garden was in near perfect order -only a spade was lying on the grass- as the roses, whose smell was getting up to his nose now, were in full bloom.
What was he looking for again?
Men were coming down the street under the sun. His eyes widened as he realized not they were coming closer, but rather the sun was coming down.
The red fire started to burn in his eyes as he opened his mouth, only find that he could not move.
Frozen he watched as the burning fire descended with a brooming noise.

Riiiinggg
Beeep
DingDing

„It must be morning“ He beamed at the watches and went flying into the bathroom. Judging by the numbers he had only half an hour until a meeting with a possible employer. How far away did he live again? And what was that dream about that still lingered in his mind? He thought he knew and it meant nothing good for the day.

The air of the city of New York is polluted by many things. Light, sound, sewer water and waste products. The hundred upon thousands of people who populate the city live in a maelstrom of constant pollution, pulled along through it while ignoring the bigger chunks. From the center of the subway, it’s a whole lot easier to see. The child sniffling, the old woman babbling to herself in the corner, the punk rocker with the slicked back Mohawk listening to blaring rock music through purple earbuds. Shin saw it all from the center of the aisle, holding onto the pole for dear life. Wall and track whipped by outside the window, illuminated by the faint hum of fluorescent red. The lights in the subway train flickered as they rocked along the tunnel under the sea of people above. The pages of a nearby passenger’s novel rustled as they turned a corner and he bumped into another passenger. Shin read the title on the cover thoughtlessly.

“20,000 Leagues…” Man, that was deep. The train pulled into the station as the lights flickered low again, and people got on. People got off. Shin slipped into a freshly-opened seat, glancing at the person next to him and listening to the announcement of the next stop. The Bronx. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a handout for the New York Botanical Gardens. The next stop was near the Bronx, within walking distance of the gardens.

The train started moving again.

After throwing on an attire of browns and greens, dark green jeans, almost black, and a brown sweater, doing nothing to hide his scrawny stature – Special care was taken to cover both hands in brown gloves and make sure no skin aside from his face was visible-, he raced for the train and got there being quite exhausted.
As he was headed for the Botanical Gardens in the Bronx he not only wandered, whether the plants could thrive in this atmosphere, but also whether he was ever going to smell sea winds again.
He did miss the feeling of a heavy wind on his skin and the hint of salt in the air that comes with seawater. And he missed his channels and canals. How could this city be without them? It was such an alien place. He felt even more detached here, then in Hamburg. Was it a wise choice to come here? As his mind started wondering, so did his powers and within a few seconds he had watched the events of a whole two train stops fly by. He encountered a broader variance in types here then back home, but it were still the same people in some ways. The boys skipping school as well as the woman trying and suceeding to pickpocket one of the other passengers. Gone. A mere blink and it was done with. Then he started to study the Asian person carrying a brochure of the very place he was headed for now seated across him. Working with plants was at least not so different from steering a vessel as many people thought. Ships lived and needed care. Plants lived and needed care. He only hoped his good references would make up for the total lack of formal training. You really need to get your mind of things he thought. And so his gaze wandered over the stranger yet again, which appeared to not have moved a bit since settling into his seat. How much time had passed by anyways? How far was he going to go again?
“Entsch... Excuse me please. I see you are familiar with the botanical gardens, would you mind telling me how many stations there are left to go?” The thick German accent flowing with the words did nothing but make him look like a tourist. But a tourist without camera?

Shin’s hazel eyes met the German’s grey eyes as the train slowed to a stop. “This is the one.” He rose, pushing off his knees and slipping the brochure back into his flowing black coat’s pocket. He wore black slacks and a crimson dress shirt underneath the coat, with a black neck tie hanging down the center of his chest. “You coming to the gardening show too?”

He waited as a few people filed out. The announcer’s voice rang in the background, slightly muffled by the chatter of the station beyond the sliding doors.

"Thank you" His voice was nearly drowned by the noise of people coming in and leaving the train. People of all shapes and sizes were shoving around at the cars exit – Even the nice old ladies boyscouts tended to help across the road turned into some kind of hawklike bird of prey first immobilizing their target with a stern look, then turning canes and bags into the instrument of the final blow for all blocking their way for too long- and for some reason the German kept his distance to them, after the first stage already, while everyone else was pushing on regardless whether their next was some kind of Dragon, resulting him being the last person wanting to exit here, but already the doors were closing on him with warning beeping that announced the near inevitable. He simply stood there having his arms wrapped around his body while pulling down the sweater. Just making sure, before daring the jump just before the doors were closed completely. Sweat had formed on his forehead. He really disliked such situations.

Noting the nod that was more of a shrug, Shin made his way to the exit. He glanced back, catching sight of the German leaving the train hesitantly, as if every step were some monstrous chasm he had to leap over. He tilted his head and considered the strange person. “Need any help?” A hand jutted out, an offering of a handshake. “Name’s Shin, by the way. What’s your’s?”

He was in no hurry to get to that show, but if he could help someone out he was all for it.

The Asian was waiting for him. And quite kindly extended his hand. He took another step towards him smiling and therefore did not notice his dawning doom coming up right behind him in the form of an old man with a cane. With a cling of metal on metal the closing doors were opened again and the grey haired doom bringer with his aluminum cane of punishment stepped out quite slowly and deliberately. He was obviously quite frail build and the years had not been kind to his arthritic joints and osteoporotic back.

So it was a hunched old man who couldn't walk, but he was an obvious New Yorker and what is more: he had a cane. So there was only one possible solution for the little problem he had with not being able to go around the person in front of him, because he was blocking the door: “Give way young man, show some respect for my age.” He said to the now jumping twen while giving him a firm push with his elongated right arm, sending him stumbling right into the outstretched arm of his kind aid, whose hand seemed quite unintentionally be not only used for a greeting, but now would hopefully at least take some energy off his rapid descent. A descent that inadvertently exposed some of his bare arm.

He could see the ground coming closer as all movement slowed down, the many voices dwindling to a low drone. As his vision was almost completely filled with black pavement

– He could already imagine the discomfort it would cause him to do his little meet and greet with it head on-

An arm appeared, a rescuing arm coming ever closer to his own. As he realized that his very own unhealthy looking white skin would come in contact with the other, darker skin, tears started to well up. He could not do this to another person again. Maybe the fall would end the link quickly, quite possibly so, but the damage he might do to him. Another pair of darkened eyes. Images started to flash before his inner eye, images that came in pairs. Images that were black or green, blue or brown. More Eyes that showed the loss of cohesion of a mind exposed to things it cannot grasp. The lack of focus on anything but his own face and the falling sand.

Blink.

When the contact was made, it was only a fleeting touch, the most gentle of all skin to skin contact, but still his eyes turned into their unusual sandy appearance and time seemed to come to a squealing halt. People seemingly freezing in the middle of their business. A jumping small child on the station was even caught in midair, jumping at an older woman. Possibly her mother, he thought. And as always came the complete lack of sound. A silence, that seemed to be more then the absence of noise, but the very embodiment of emptyness. A void, which swallowed even the sound of hearts. As he studied the face of his victim after finishing his survey of the station, he decided, that it was a promising young man. He could see the friendly grin frozen into place, the open stance. Truthful. Honest. This person did not deserve, what was done to him right now. Done by him and his powers.
Can you ever forgive me young one? He thought, as with another

Blink

And a surprisingly small “thud” he landed face ahead on the floor, rests of sand still falling from his cheeks. It had been short even by his terms. It had been only a blink. And the noise of the station was back again.

You know how they say ‘it was a moment that lasted a lifetime’? Yeah? Bull. This moment lasted two lifetimes, or was it two hours? Time dragged, cheeks sagged, sand was sewn on the ground like salt. He stared into Martin’s eyes, face frozen helplessly into a grin. And then it ended. Shin blinked, looking left, looking right. “Huh? What just happened…”

The people in the station moved just as they’d always done. The old man paid them no heed, babbling on and on and he walked through the train’s doorway waving his cane. “Whippersnappers!” A young boy walked by with his mother, toy laser gun beeping and spinning as he went. Rattatatatatattatt. Across the station, another child ran with a balloon. Still, Shin stared at those sandy eyes, that pale skin. One more blink, then he realized Martin was face-first on the ground.

“Um… hey, are you alright man?” A hand wrapped in a sleeve tapped on Martin’s shoulder. Shin moved to a different side, offering him help off the floor. Whatever had happened was curious enough alright, but he wouldn’t let it happen again. He dropped his voice. “Are you a mutant? Was that your power… is it skin-to-skin, or should I be more worried?”

Questions, questions, more questions. He crouched in front of Martin resting his arms on his knees and waited.

As he had so unexpectedly soon come to rest on the cold floor he did not stir even though his ears told him, that everything was over. But was everything alright? As his body started sending him messages again he felt a certain warmth on his lips as he went through the steps of mentally checking every limb for damage. A quick swipe with the tongue revealed the metallic taste.

He was relieved. As long as only his nose was bleeding he would find that an acceptable price.

>>“Huh? What just happened…” <<

Even after all those years he could not answer that question properly. Completely distancing himself from his surroundings he found, that this situation reminded him of the accidents he had had in the first time while still coming to terms with his power. How did that happen anyways? Focus Martin. You're not 20 any more. It was just an accident. Just something, happening by chance.

One of his reasons to hate taking chances. One would always find the worst happening after some time.

The tapping on his shoulder finally yanked him from his thoughts quite ungracefully, as he took a deep breath of his own sand and started coughing. My that sand burned in the lungs. They felt as though someone had glued them shut. Another second or two went by,until he pushed himself up, nose still bloodied and slight abrasions on his face. He was barely standing, as the young one spilled his questions over him like a big bucket of cold water. The coughing stopped immedeately.

>>“Um… hey, are you alright man?”.... <<
“I believe nothing serious happened to me, but how are you feeling?”

The concern for his next started to show in his eyes as the full realization of what he had done hit him with a second blow. He he shifted position uncomfortably Why was he still feeling uncomfortable for a thing s natural to him? It seemed as this guilt would not stop coming quite yet. When he was touched by a hand in a sleeve he looked at it with saddened eyes.

“Yes and Yes.” He had done it. He had confirmed, what he was. He had trusted in that teenager. He owed him that, did he not? “Though it would be unwise to touch me at all.” He said, while brushing the hand gently off his shoulder with a brown gloved hand.
Taking out a handkerchief with the same movement (not a paper one, but one of those real cloth ones with red stripes) he wiped the blood from his face with precise movements. At least part of it. It would be stained now, but that was besides the point. His movements seemed odd. Calm. Maybe a little Distant? “I believe my powers are nothing for discussion here. Please join me on a walk through the Arboretum.” For some reason that please was a mere whisper. Please. Softly spoken, still carrying the hard German intonation. Yet somehow he had drawn himself together enough to make it suitable to talk over the situation like over having British tea time.

Somewhere in the station a girl started wailing.

Shin's hand was brushed away. He nodded at the admonition. "Well, as long as alright. I would of felt awful if you were hurt." His voice dropped. "And okay. I understand that. I'll keep my lips sealed until you want to talk, man." That was fine. Pushing off his knees, he stood and looked around. Nobody was looking at them. That was good. He glanced down at his watch, then back to Martin.

“I believe my powers are nothing for discussion here. Please join me on a walk through the Arboretum.”

"Sure." He waited for Martin to get to his feet, then let him lead him to the trees.

Making his way through the station without looking twice he was finally close to reaching them. The streets. Here through the doors the people shoved their way. One bumping into the other, shoving. He freed his way of people roughly. Uncaring. Uncaring for what might happen, what might be done. Might was useless now. Might was a fact now. The weight resting on his shoulders. He was aware of it. Responsibility. A final effort before the sun was shining on his head again. The blue sky clear, unaffected from what had happened, clouds were lazily flowing over their heads. People dispersed themselves throughout the roads like a spill. He was part of the small arm of liquid movement that leaked its way into the green of the arboretum. It swallowed those small spill up whole and as they were. Suddenly he found himself walking beneath trees and small beds of flowers he turned around to his companion.

“My name is Martin Stein. I am a mutant. A freak of nature as you might call me, and quite justified that judgment would be. ”

His flat words were accompanied by a gesture of the hand that was supposed to be calming. He had heard that mutants were feared here much more than home and even though he had confirmed his status earlier it seemed fitting to introduce himself for what he was. His eyes were wandering along the paths to other small groups of people. None were too close. Or could they ever be too distant for the matter he was to unveil?

With a smirk he took off one of his gloves to reveal a latex one that had been hidden underneath only to cover his hand for a second time in brown.

“You see I take some precautions to prevent what happened with you but seeing what has happened in the station it seems to not be enough.”

He reached down into a bed of flowers to remove a bit of green that seemed not to belong there only to leave it in his hand. It sprouted from his glove like out of fresh earth. He had spared him the most important thing for last. The part he himself was feeling uneasy pronouncing, even in a place like this. A place he felt he needed more right now then his victim. The green was calming.

“As my touch sometimes affects the flow of time around objects or people. I am very sorry for your misadventure.”

For what I did to you I should have said. The grey eyes were fixed on a small flower. He crouched down down and took a deep nose full of its sweet scent and looked up at his companion from his ground hugging position. He did deserve the truth, but how well he would take this part would determine, whether he would get to know him better or would never see him again.
He would get his payback for the damage. He truly would. But how depended entirely on him. The sweet scent did nothing good to dull his pain. What have I become? He asked himself yet another time.

Shin waited for Martin to finish what he had to say patiently. From the way Martin was acting, Shin assessed a few things about him. First, he didn’t like his power. It was dangerous, and he knew that to be the truth. Second, that wasn’t a bad thing. It actually meant he cared. And third… he was overly apologetic about it all. Shin sighed.

“Accidents happen. It’s fine that you’re sorry, but I don’t hold any grudges. And since we’re doing introductions, here’s mine. My name is Tetsuya Shinbo, I’m a mutant, and if you ever need help finding somewhere to go where you can be around people who’ll accept you, I’m your man.” His eyes were serious. This was a serious statement. He shook off the word ‘freak’ as it reverberated through the soothing air of flowers. “And I don’t think you’re a freak… don’t knock yourself down like that. You’re doing what you can to prevent things like that from happening. I’d think freaks were the type to avoid taking responsibilities for their actions.”

He stood by the flowerbed and gave Martin an earnest look. The guy looked like he had a lot on his mind.

He nodded as the statements at hearing the name. And then there came the rest. Mutant. Just some little word. Quite unlike freak, so much alike sometimes. Just that thin line that seperated them. It hit him with some force. He should get used to getting blows by now, but his mind was all the same. He had done this to a mutant? As his brain was still processing the unforeseen news his body slumped onto the ground.

Mutant. A being akin to him. Kin almost. This presented to him a whole set of questions, most of which were possibly difficult to answer. Of course there was the question of his powers first. It often came up when two mutants met. It was always about what made then special, or supreme, depending on the viewpoint of the person to talk with. But more important to him was the question of how he used them, not what they were or how he viewed them. Those questions tended to answer themselves in due time. And he would not ask questions he did not need answers for.

Especially as people were quite revealing about themselves once one bothered to acquire the patience to read them. Patience and time. He grinned. He was sitting on the ground and wondering.
Responsibility. Shin obviously liked that word. It had that certain ring of conviction coming with it. It was telling him a lot.
His head snapped back upwards. How long had he been thinking?

“Speaking of knocking yourself down. Would you sit with me for a while?”

Green still in one hand he placed the other in his lap as he folded his legs under himself, waiting for the answer to a little question. First the little ones. They were always first. And after a moment of awaiting silence he would continue: (provided the boy was still there)

“There is a matter you might be able to assist me with. I would like to ask you to not disclose my gift to others. I find it very hard to not touch people, but seeing them shy away from my every move is much more troublesome over time. And if you will, please tell me about the places you talked about.”

Much more then you imagined in your wildest dreams possibly. And probably those do not even come close to my nightmares. Troublesome thoughts.

The moment seemed heavy as he stood there. The gravity of the situation was pressing down on both their backs. Shin waited through the press. Peaceful scents drifted to his mouth, leaving the taste of honeysuckle and mint. Sunlight streamed down on them in sheets from an open window. Martin’s attention jerked back to him sharply. Bending at the knees, Shin curled his legs inwards and sat cross-legged across from the thought-plagued gardener. His hands gripped his knees gently as he met Martin at eye-level.

>> There is a matter you might be able to assist me with. I would like to ask you to not disclose my gift to others. I find it very hard to not touch people, but seeing them shy away from my every move is much more troublesome over time. And if you will, please tell me about the places you talked about.”

“Sure thing,” a nod moved Shin’s face. He could understand the want for secrecy. Some people at the mansion preferred the quiet life over the noise of attention. A finger raised up to pursed lips as he considered how best to describe the mansion.

“A place where people can relax and be free from the persecution and prejudices of the outside world… that’s what the mansion’s aim is. Their goal. It’s a school in New York that helps the gifted develop their minds and bodies, gain control, live. Food and shelter are free for the mansion’s students, and classes are completely optional. The staff are understanding as well. I’d have to say it’s a pretty nice arrangement. Hook-free.” Shin smiled and lowered his voice to let the remaining words stand on their own. “But I think the most important thing is that people try not to judge there. Some people don’t have complete control. We help them. We look out for our friends.”

He inclined his head slightly to the left as Shin spoke.

Utopia. He was speaking of utopia. The place that is not. Mutants living without being prejudiced was a thing he had found to be an impossible task, but he was intrigued by the way he spoke about it. And he spoke well. It seemed as if he had given that speech a few times before. But a <hook free> arrangement seemed unlikely to him. Some hooks were too thrown at him just now, though he had no intention of evading them. He had just been invited he was very much inclined to see how this social experiment of theirs would turn out to look in his eyes.

Fiddling with the small plant in his hand and taking a deep breath of the clean air he found himself smiling.

“It almost sounds too good to be true. I would like to see it sometime.”

As he took another deep breath he found that the tension, which had been building up inside him was being washed away from him by the rays of the sun. It was like a splash of cold water in the face. Cleaning. Birds were singing in the woods somewhere.

“I hope it has a garden.”