Kai

Logan awoke to the smell of smoke.

Not the terrifying, your-house-is-on-fire kind of smoke, but the acrid, unmistakable scent of burned toast.

Something clattered in the kitchen, followed by a low thump and a startled, "Oh no."

He groaned, dragging himself out of bed and padding barefoot into the hallway. When he turned the corner into the kitchen, the scene that greeted him nearly made him laugh and cry at the same time.

Kai stood in front of the stove, now shirtless. He'd apparently discarded Jared’s T-shirt and Logan could see it peeking through the trash bin. Kai gripped the spatula, poking at what looked like eggshells sizzling in the greasy frying pan. There were two pieces of charcoal that might've once been toast, and a bottle of milk had been knocked over, dripping off the edge of the counter.

Kai turned when he heard Logan’s footsteps. His face lit up. “I make food.”

Logan blinked, trying to suppress a laugh. “Is that what this is?”

Kai beamed, completely oblivious to the disaster he'd created and the state of the kitchen. He picked up the plate—if it could be called that—and proudly set it on the table. “I make breakfast.”

Logan stared at the mess, then at Kai, then back again. “You cooked? On purpose?”

Kai nodded with pride.

Logan hesitated, then picked up a fork. He poked the rubbery mass of eggs and bit down, immediately regretting it.

“Mmm. Crunchy,” he said, spitting the chewed up food discreetly into his hand.

Kai looked pleased. Logan, on the other hand, mentally calculated how long it would take for the food poisoning to kick in.

Still, the effort warmed something inside him. No one had made him breakfast in years, not even Jared. Even though it tasted like trash.

They ate in silence, if it could be called eating. Kai watched Logan closely, while Logan wondered when the diarrhea would kick in, as he chewed on another egg shell.

After breakfast, Logan began cleaning up while Kai tried to help, mostly by moving things from one wrong place to another.

“Patience, Patience," Logan muttered, rescuing a glass from inside the oven.

When they were done, Logan dropped onto the couch scrolling through his phone for available jobs, Kai joined him staring intently at him. 

Logan gave him an occasional glance before saying, “We need to figure out what to do with you. You can't just stay here forever.”

Kai sat cross-legged on the floor beside the couch, listening to him with rapt attention.

Logan continued, half to himself. “You can't stay in a shelter’s. You don’t have an ID. Hospitals’ll just call the cops. And I’m not exactly rolling in cash.”

Kai frowned. "Logan... worried?"

“Worried doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

He glanced at Kai—and froze.

There was something strange about Kai’s arm. There was a faint shimmer, almost like a bruise, but it moved, sealing shut rapidly. Logan blinked, and it was gone.

"Do you... heal fast?" Logan asked.

Kai looked at his hand, then nodded. “Fast.”

Logan swallowed. “Of course you do. Because you’re definitely not human.”

Before Kai could answer, there was a knock at the door.

Logan jumped to his feet. “Hide, now!” he whispered. Kai blinked at him. “Behind the couch or something!”

Kai obeyed, though he made no effort to be subtle about it. His broad shoulders stuck out obviously.

Logan opened the door just a crack.

It was Mrs. Delgado, the older lady from two doors down, holding a Tupperware container and peering at him with concern. “Logan, mijo, I heard yelling last night. Are you alright?”

Logan forced a smile. “Yeah, it's just… Jared and I broke up.”

She sighed sympathetically and handed him the container. “Chicken enchiladas. Eat something, okay?”

“Thanks, Mrs. D.”

Her eyes drifted behind him. “Is someone else here?”

“Nope! Just me and... my empty heart.”

A head popped up from behind the couch—Kai.

He stared at her, wide-eyed, almost like a deer caught in headlights.

Mrs. Delgado blinked, gesturing towards Kai. “Is that your cousin?”

Logan sharply turned to him, his eyes cutting a sharp glare towards Kai. “Yes. Very distant. Very foreign. Doesn’t speak much English.”

“Oh. Well... okay. He's a handsome fellow at that.” She smiled, her crows feet wrinkling, “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Definitely, Mrs. D!” Logan smiled tightly as he closed the door.

“Seriously?” he hissed at Kai. “Hiding means not being seen!”

Kai tilted his head. “She nice lady.”

Logan groaned. “I’m going back to bed.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he got dressed and headed out.

He needed a job.

---

There was a flyer by the laundromat advertising odd jobs—”no experience necessary, cash paid daily.” Desperate, Logan went to check it out. It turned out to be a landscaping gig with a crew that clearly wasn’t hiring.

“Sorry, man,” the foreman said. “We’re full up.”

Logan turned away, defeated, but not before hearing the foreman mutter something about needing someone who could lift more than a wet paper towel.

As he walked down the street, a commotion broke out across the road. A woman screamed. A kid’s soccer ball had rolled into traffic—and the child had chased after it.

A car was headed towards the child in full speed.

Logan’s heart seized— And then Kai was there.

He moved like a light, faster than anyone had a right to be. He darted into the street, scooped up the boy, and jumped back just before the car screeched past.

People gasped. Applauded. Someone yelled, "Holy shit, did you see that?"

Logan stood frozen. Kai caught his eyes across the street and smiled.

“No, no, no…” Logan muttered, running towards him and dragging Kai away from the gathering crowd.

When they were finally around the corner, Logan spun on him. “Are you insane? You can’t do that! People saw you!”

Kai frowned. “You were sad. I come to help.”

“That’s not—You can't just...!” Logan threw up his hands, speechless.

Kai looked down, then back up with a small, sheepish smile. “Still sad?”

Logan stared at him for a long moment.

Then sighed. “A little less.”

---

Later that night, back at the apartment, Logan sat at his laptop.

He stared at the blinking cursor in the search bar.

Then, slowly, he typed:

> Cases of dog's who turned into a man overnight.<