Shion finally slowed to a walk, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Huff… huff… This should be far enough," he exhaled, wiping the sweat and grime from his face with the back of his sleeve. The clean, broad avenues of the Second Wall were now a memory. Under his feet, the ground turned to sucking mud. In the air, the tantalizing smells of roasting meat and fresh bread were completely gone, replaced by the stench of stagnant water, rotting garbage, and the sharp, foul odor of too many people living in too little space.
This was the only home he knew: the Third Wall slums of Kurtkin. He had finally reached the poorer district, a tangled maze of crumbling buildings and desperate eyes. He was safe, for now, from the soldiers' pursuit.
"I'll have to lay low for a week," he muttered to himself, a wave of frustration washing over him. "And after all that, I still didn't get the bread." He sighed, a heavy sound lost in the din of the slums. He moved through the crowded lane, feeling the weight of stares from every shadowed doorway and filthy alley. Men with hard eyes and women with weary, sharp expressions watched him pass. Everyone here was dangerous because everyone here was simply trying to survive. Above it all, he could see the dark shapes of soldiers patrolling the high ramparts that separated this misery from the rest of the city, their vigilance a constant reminder of the wall's true purpose.
Shion reached his shelter—a shack cobbled together from warped wood and rusted nails, listing dangerously to one side. He pushed the creaking door open and stepped inside. The floor was a layer of packed dirt and dust, where the scuttle of roaches and the rustle of rats were familiar sounds. The single room was cold and held the smell of sickness.
"Mom, I'm home," he called out, his voice softer now.
His mother lay on a thin pallet in the corner, asleep. Shion sat gently on the floor beside her bed, his own exhaustion settling deep into his bones.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his words meant only for her. "I didn't get the bread from those bastards today. But… your unfilial son made it back alive. I know you're probably angry with me for going back there again." He reached out and carefully adjusted the thin blanket over her shoulders.
"….."
"You know, Mom, today I…"
Knock. Knock.
The sound was firm and utterly out of place. It cut through the fragile peace of the room like a knife.
Shion froze. No one knocked here. Visitors yelled, or just barged in. His body went tense. He rose to his feet, every sense screaming in alarm. He moved to the door, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He stared at the rough wood, as if he could see through it.
"Who is it?" he asked, his voice low and guarded.
Shion's hand, trembling slightly, reached for the latch. Was it a soldier? The thought was irrational—they only patrolled the Second Wall. Had someone from the slums betrayed his hiding place? His fingers curled around the rough wood, and he pulled the door open.
Standing in the grimy daylight was the pink-haired man, the one who had kicked him halfway across the market square. The man offered a carefree smile, as innocent as a visiting neighbor.
"Hello there."
Shion's heart slammed against his ribs. Moving on pure instinct, he threw his weight against the door, shutting it in the man's face with a heavy thud.
"Shit!" he hissed, pressing his back against the wood. "What is that bastard doing here?!"
A patient, almost musical voice came from the other side. "Oh my. What bad manners. Didn't your mother teach you not to slam the door on someone's face?"
Gritting his teeth, Shion wrenched the door open again. "Tsk. What do you want from me?" he demanded, glaring up at the man. "To arrest me? Get it over with."
The man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he paused, his smile fading for a split second as he subtly sniffed the air, his expression shifting to one of mild curiosity. "Before we discuss that—"
"Shion!"
A light, familiar voice cut through the tense air. Shion froze. It was Ariel. Without thinking, he shoved the pink-haired man back inside the shack, stepped out himself, and closed the door firmly behind him, planting himself directly in front of it with what he hoped was a casual smile.
"Oh, Ariel. What do you want?"
Ariel stood a few paces away. She was his age, with the same fiery red hair and bright yellow eyes that marked their people. His childhood friend. Her sharp gaze scanned him, and he could see the immediate suspicion in her eyes. "You're hiding something," she stated.
"N-no, I'm not!"
"Wow, no need to get so worked up over a little question." She took a step closer, her eyes locked on his face as he struggled to hold her gaze. "But my suspicion is right. What is it? What are you hiding?"
"It's nothing."
"Liar!" she shot back, her voice rising. "Just let me see what's in there!"
"I said no!" Shion moved to block her as she tried to dart around him, their struggle a silent shuffle of pushing hands and shifting feet.
"You've been avoiding everyone for a week!" she insisted, her voice dropping to a heated whisper. "I haven't seen your mother since last week. Tell me what's happened!"
"I SAID NOTHING!" The words burst from him with more force than he intended. He shoved her back, a sudden movement fueled by panic and guilt.
Ariel stumbled, landing hard on the muddy ground. She looked up at him, shock and hurt etched on her face.
Shion's anger evaporated, replaced by cold dread. "I-I didn't mean to—"
She got to her feet, brushing the dirt from her worn dress, her expression now closed off and hard. "My father is calling for you. You'd better come." Her voice was flat. "Or else we will drag you out and see what you're hiding for ourselves." Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving Shion standing alone, guarding a door.