He passed several sentries, sitting at desks with oil lamps casting their greasy glow on the walls and ceiling. The Orphans knew each other on sight, and no questions were asked. Others were also making their way back to quarters, and the halls grew more crowded the closer he got. Finally, his patience tested only a little, he made it to Barracks Number Seven and typed his code into the mechanical terminal at the entrance. This meant he was officially off duty.

The weight of protecting the most important nation in the world lifted from his shoulders, and, as often happened, he felt a giddiness that bordered on mania. An extreme burst of excited energy exploded inside of him, sourced from an impossible reserve that he did not understand, and he found himself unable to deal with it. He laughed, a sound that held no humor, and looked around, knowing he had to expend the energy that buzzed his every molecule. He ran to the closest wall, its surface black and mostly carved flat, and punched it with the bare knuckles of his left fist. He punched it with his right. Then again, both fists in turn. Again. Again. Left, right, left, right, left, right. He didn’t stop until the skin of both hands was raw and bloody.

He stopped, chest heaving to catch his breath. Then he looked up.

Several Orphans stood nearby, staring at him. Not out of shock, but understanding. They nodded at him, and he nodded back.

“Glad I ain’t that wall,” one said, a skinny fella with a bent nose.

“Please,” a woman with orange hair replied. “I’d be impressed if you’d at least cracked the damn thing.”

They were both Orphans. Neither had a name. But he knew them. Skinny and Orange. Simple enough.

“Just wait until I get something to eat,” he responded. “I’m starving. Put some steak and potatoes in my belly and I could bust a tunnel to Number Eight.”

“I’m sure you could,” Orange replied. “But you might have to get your hands replaced. Might hurt, too.”

The Orphan shook his head. “Nothing hurts.”

“We just got back, too,” Skinny said. “Wanna head to the cafeteria?”

“That, I do.” He swore they could hear the rumbles in his stomach clear down to the worst parts of Hell. “But I go first. There might not be any left for you guys.”

Orange rolled her eyes and started walking in the direction they needed to go.

“We get it,” she said. “You’re hungry. Come on.”

He and Skinny joined her, and it wasn’t long before he smelled the wonderful scent of cooking meat. His mouth watered. He liked Orange and Skinny. He had some other friends, too. But he could never share his secrets with them. There were so many things hidden inside him.

But for now, all Minho wanted was food.