All Kenneth wanted was peace.
He wanted to keep a low profile and get by without any problems, yet here was his biggest problem of all. Whenever he was with Lucien, he felt unlike himself. It was as if he'd suddenly become possessed by a demon who took relish in seeing him suffer.
Confusion and frustration welled inside of him, making him feel ever more lost.
So all he could do was stare back and wonder what it was about this man that made him think these thoughts? That made him feel so lost and confused. That brought about this deep-seated desire to wreck and break him, and in the same breath mold him into a shape that satisfied him?
He sighed, suddenly feeling tired.
"What are you staring at so hard?" Lennon cut through his thoughts while simultaneously breaking the strange connection he had with Lucien.
Kenneth looked away almost abruptly, his eyes blinking before they refocused on the man before him. Lennon stared at him with his warm eyes, his head tilting to the side, loosely shaking the locs that framed his face.
"N-Nothing," found himself saying before his brain could register anything else.
Lennon's brows lifted. "Really?"
He nodded. Yoosung was also observing him, before a strange look brushed over his face. "Why do I find that hard to believe?"
Kenneth bit his lower lip. "Why wouldn't you?"
Yoosung blinked. Before he could say anything else, Andrei lifted a hand, stopping him. His mouth didn't say anything, but his eyes said very loudly and clearly: Drop it.
His eyes darted towards Kenneth, who looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown. He gulped, nodding his head in agreement.
Fae looked at Kenneth with concern. "Um…how about you guys stay here, and I'll get us some drinks. I think there should be another sparring match happening soon. Kenneth, do you want to join me?" She asked tentatively.
The young man met her gaze and nodded slowly. Yeah, he definitely needed to get out of here. There was something incredibly wrong with his brain, or his body, or possibly both.
Maybe getting some air will do me some good.
The two Anchors got up and left the hall. When they were gone, Lennon shot both Andrei and Yoosung a look. "What was that?"
Yoosung shook his head while Andrei sighed. He was the one who had the most experience with Anchors out of the two, since he had an older sister who was one as well. "That was classic Anchor projecting, or at least almost projecting."
"Projecting? What does that mean?"
"It usually happens when an Anchor finds aStriker they are interested in. The problem is, they don't realize that they have a keen interest in said Striker. It's usually their Anchor brains that realize it first before the heart and body do. When this happens, especially with strong-minded Anchors, it causes an adverse reaction. The Anchors start to build up these walls around them and become…sensitive. Easily irritable. And almost, territorial at times."
Lennon opened and closed his mouth. "…Is that what's happening to Kenneth? But how? He just got here, how could there be someone he's already interested in?!"
Andrei rolled his eyes. "You should reverse that question a little bit. How could he not? He's in a room chock-full of Strikers. It's his basic instinct to find one that would suit his tastes. And honestly, I've been thinking this for a while now, but Kenneth isn't like most Anchors. I wouldn't be surprised if he were a high-class one, either. They work differently compared to normal Anchors. Maybe he found someone who matches his wavelength or something."
"Seriously?"
Yoosung was quiet for a moment, but finally agreed. "I guess you're right. I did mistake him for a Striker when I first met him. That's…kind of crazy though. I wonder who set him off like that?"
The trio wondered the same thing as their eyes scanned across the room.
Meanwhile, outside, Kenneth's body was tighter than a wooden board. Even after stepping out of the hall, he still felt on edge. Fae's brows creased even more.
"I think the vending machines are that way," she said, pointing to the opposite direction they'd been in.
Kenneth nodded as they walked down the hall before turning left. Fae was right. The machines were stationed not too far from the hall.
"…Are you okay?" Fae couldn't help but ask.
Kenneth gave her a side glance, his right brow lifting in surprise. "…Uh, yeah, I am."
She pursed her lips before stepping forward. "You know, you can talk to me if there's something weighing on your mind. I know we just met, and you may not see me as a friend just yet, but I'm here. As a fellow Anchor too," she added.
The surprise was evident on his face now, making Fae blush. She bowed her head, her stance shifting nervously. "Uh…unless that's like…I'm like, totally off the mark and being overly presumptuous. Actually, please ignore everything I just said!"
Kenneth wasn't one to share his thoughts with others easily, but seeing the sincerity in Fae's eyes made him want to trust her. To confide in her. He knew he couldn't keep holding whatever it was he was feeling to himself. The smartest thing to do was to speak up, and maybe by speaking up, he could figure out what this feeling was. Perhaps, and Kenneth hoped, this was all in his head.
"I can't exactly describe what this is, but it's like my body feels…overstimulated? My pulse gets faster, I feel agitated, and hyper-aware. And it always happens when I'm around—" he stopped himself, but that was all Fae needed to hear.
She understood what he was feeling as a fellow Anchor.
Fae's eyes widened slightly, then softened with quiet understanding. "Oh," she murmured, almost to herself. For a moment, she didn't know what to say, because if she was right, then Kenneth wasn't just experiencing nerves. He was experiencing something else entirely.
She tucked a curl behind her ear and forced a small, reassuring smile. "That… happens sometimes," she said carefully. "Anchors can be more sensitive to certain energies. Maybe you just came across someone whose wavelength doesn't sit right with yours."
"…Is that right?" He said, sounding unconvinced. There was no way what he was feeling could be put that simply or succinctly.
This was too visceral, too aggressive a feeling to be treated this lightly. He leaned against the vending machine, exhaling slowly. "Doesn't sit right, feels too gentle a way to put it. It's like every nerve in my body wakes up at once. Like I'm bracing for a fight that never comes."
Fae studied him. His tone wasn't frustrated—more confused, almost unsettled. She opened her mouth, hesitated, then decided against telling him what she suspected. He wasn't ready to hear that. Not yet.
"Maybe it's just adrenaline," she said softly. "You've been through a lot lately. New place, new people… a ton of Strikers in one room? That's a lot for any Anchor to handle."
"Yeah," Kenneth muttered, though his eyes were distant, his mind still elsewhere. "Yeah, maybe."
He pressed the button on the machine, and the soft clunk of a can dropping filled the silence. When he straightened, Fae noticed his hands were trembling faintly.
She forced another smile and gestured down the hall. "Come on. Let's head back before Lennon starts looking for us."
Kenneth gave a quiet laugh at that and followed her lead, though his thoughts didn't ease. The strange tension still coiled under his skin, humming faintly like static.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something inside him had recognized something, or someone, and now refused to let it go.