Why would you do that to me?

(A couple of months later)

Tokyo's streets were crisp with autumn air while shoppers gathered around the busy food market. The smell of fresh ingredients carried through the air, attracting curious and hungry customers. Music from a local street performer added to the lively atmosphere as he strummed his shamisen and sang old folk songs.

One thin figure made his way through the crowd, his untamed brown hair framing his features beneath an oversized hood.

He moved effortlessly, skirting around patrons and weaving between them as if he was a ghost. The young man intently observed his surroundings, looking for an opportunity to snatch a meal without anyone noticing.

His hand reached out and he grabbed fresh bread from one of the stands. The thief quickly tucked it under his arm and moved on, using the taller individuals to shield himself from view - until the shopkeeper yelled at him and demanded to know how he was going to pay.

He immediately ran. His agile feet raced through the market's winding pathways, dodging buyers and sellers alike.

Natsuo only paused after reaching far enough and disappeared into a quiet alley. He panted, breathless from his recent escape, and realized that his dinner had dropped while running.

His stomach growled in protest. He cursed himself for his clumsiness and kicked a nearby stone out of frustration.

"Well, at least one of us had something to eat tonight," he murmured to himself, thinking that his black-furred friend had munched on the last pieces of dried meat he had scavenged earlier.

The unfortunate thief straightened his hood and walked towards his self-built shelter, where he had spent most of his tough months living off what he could find.

He was physically exhausted from his long days of hunting and his stomach ached with hunger. His body pleaded with him to stop as he strode forward, but stubbornness and the thought of seeing his feline companion motivated him to keep going.

His vision was blurry, so he couldn't even see the shapes around him. He continued to walk down the empty alley, almost falling several times, until he turned the corner. His legs finally gave out and he collapsed to the ground, grasping feebly at the wall as darkness swallowed him up.

(Later that day)

The blue eyes flickered open and saw an unfamiliar ceiling. Natsuo noticed he was inside an extravagant, black-painted room with expensive furnishings.

He slowly sat up on the bed, covered in soft sheets, and caught a whiff of herb-roasted chicken drifting from somewhere. His attention was drawn to the floor-to-ceiling windows where he gazed at the scenery before him - the sun had just set and the skyline glowed with countless different hues of orange and red. The fading light illuminated Tokyo's towering skyscrapers and tangled streets, suggesting that they were high above the ground.

A mysterious man stepped into the room, a light smile on his face. He had ashen white hair and wore a light tracksuit, but showed a well-trained physique underneath. His pale brown eyes twinkled with curiosity as he stood tall in the doorway.

"Oh, you are awake," he said relieved.

Natsuo sucked in a breath as he recognized the familiar face from his old school, also known as the little ghost. His mouth fell open in surprise when he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"I haven't seen you for a while," Jiro said, clearly amused by the shock on his former schoolmate's face. It had been roughly two years since they last saw each other in that school hallway.

The room started spinning around Natsuo as he started to feel dizzy again. He clutched the bedsheets to steady himself, feeling acidic bile rising in his throat as exhaustion and hunger caught up with him.

"Are you hungry? I made dinner if you want something to eat," the white-haired one asked concernedly.

"Did you... bring me here?" Natsuo managed to utter in a trembling voice. That couldn't be real. There was no way among all the millions of people in Tokyo, they would have run into each other in that deserted alley.

"You collapsed earlier on the ground. I picked you up and took you to my house to rest - thankful that it was me and not some kind of pervert," Jiro explained as if it was the most normal thing to do.

"Why? Why would you do that to me?" Natsuo mumbled, embarrassed as all the memories of their school days flooded back to him.

"You clearly needed help. Do you need to go to the hospital?" Jiro replied, looking worriedly at the other.

Natsuo was crushed with shame as he remembered how he used to tease the person who had helped him. His heart was painfully pounding in his chest and sweat beaded his forehead as he tried to apologize for his past behavior, but his throat became clogged with words.

"Do you need to lie down?" Jiro asked cautiously, but Natsuo shook his head and scrambled to get out of bed.

"I need to leave... where is the door?" the guest asked as he dashed out of the room.

The brunet stopped in his tracks as he saw the penthouse they were in. The apartment layout was spacious and luxurious with large, same kind of floor-to-ceiling windows from before. His gaze shifted to the second floor, connected by a dark staircase.

The space was filled with high-end furniture and luxury décor, combining concrete, glass, and wood. A large plasma television was the focal point of the living room, surrounded by multiple speakers and amplifiers. A massive black couch faced it, with enough seating for at least twelve people.

The young thief was taken aback by how lavish the place was. He couldn't help but wonder how the little ghost managed to afford such a high-class lifestyle.

"Wait."

His former classmate hurried after him, heading into his ebony-colored kitchen with modern appliances and marble countertops. The pair of blue eyes glanced at him, paying attention to how he took a tray from the oven and quickly packed something into a plastic bag.

"This is for you," Jiro said politely as he offered the pouch of homemade meals and canned goods.

The famished eighteen-year-old didn't reach for it, even though every cell in his starving body screamed for him to take it and run away. He stood there, not daring to move, shaking slightly as he fought between his instinct and his pride.

Jiro placed it in Natsuo's hand and smiled reassuringly.

"There is no poison or anything. I am actually quite good at cooking."

"Why are you helping me after all I have done?" Natsuo muttered, feeling the weight of the bag - as well as the consequences of his actions, more heavily than ever before.

Jiro's kind smile froze for the first time as if he had no words to say.

"Don't worry about it. Just stay safe out there," the former ghost answered, their roles now reversed - Jiro was a head taller than the thin and malnourished Natsuo, who looked like a corpse with his pale complexion, sunken eyes, and hollow cheeks.

"Thanks... for everything," he whispered, his palms clammy and his heart thumping as he turned his back on his ex-classmate.