Chapter Fourteen: A Fateful Encounter

The streets were filled with voices, merchants calling out their prices, and people moving from stall to stall. The smell of fresh bread and grilled meat was thick in the air.

A boy, small and thin, held his grandfather's hand as they walked. His black hair was messy, his sandals worn. His grandfather, an older man with streaks of gray in his hair, moved with ease through the market.

Subaru glanced down. "What do you think about having pork tonight, Jeffery?"

Jeffery looked up. "Pork sounds good, Grandpa."

Subaru chuckled, his eyes scanning the market. Jeffery watched people around him—humans and beastmen walking together, children playing in the streets. He had heard stories of other places where it wasn't like this.

They stopped at a stall. The woman behind it was arranging vegetables and meat. Her hair was pulled back, and she looked up, her face breaking into a smile.

"Well, if it isn't the man who walked right in front of my business!" she teased.

Subaru smirked. "It's good to see you too, Lizzie."

Lizzie shook her head. "It's been a long time since you came by. I thought maybe old age had finally caught up with you."

"You and your jokes, Lizzie."

Lizzie's eyes moved to Jeffery. "And would you look at that, you've got yourself—" She waited for Subaru to finish.

"My grandson," Subaru said, pulling Jeffery forward.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. "Grandson? I thought you were a bachelor for life, with no one to love you!"

Subaru sighed. "Are you going to keep teasing me or sell me some food?"

Lizzie ignored him, turning to Jeffery with a warm smile. "How are you doing, Jeffery?"

"I'm good," Jeffery said politely.

She nudged Subaru. "I hope this old man is feeding you well?"

Jeffery nodded. "Grandpa takes good care of me."

Lizzie blinked. "Well, I didn't think you had it in you, Subaru!" She gave him a playful smack.

Subaru laughed awkwardly. Jeffery watched them, realizing his grandfather had people who cared about him.

His gaze wandered back to the crowd, watching the way mana moved around people, some bright, some dim. Then, something changed. A girl bumped into him.

Jeffery stumbled slightly, looking down. She was small, wearing tattered rags, her brown hair messy. Her black eyes were wide with fear. A loaf of bread lay at her feet.

She grabbed it quickly, hands shaking. "Sorry," she whispered.

Before Jeffery could say anything, she turned and ran.

Jeffery's breath caught. He instinctively checked her mana. It was pitch black. Unlike anything he had ever seen before. His heart pounded.

"Jeffery?" Subaru's voice brought him back.

Jeffery turned, his grandfather holding a bag filled with vegetables. "Is something wrong?"

Jeffery hesitated. "Nothing, Grandpa."

Subaru studied him for a moment, then smiled. "Alright, let's head home. I'll make you my best dish tonight."

Jeffery smiled, but his mind was still on the girl. He didn't understand it. Why was her mana like that? Who was she?

As they walked away, with Lizzie waving them off, the unease in Jeffery's chest didn't fade.

________________________________________

The girl running.

Her feet hurt. She was tired. But she didn't stop.

The bread in her hands felt heavy. Too heavy. Like it might disappear if she loosened her grip, like it wasn't real.

She turned a corner, slipping into the alley, into the quiet. The air was cold here. The walls felt closer. The world was different.

Children sat against the stone, too weak to move, too hungry to speak. Some looked up when she passed. Some didn't. She knew what that meant.

She kept going.

He was right where she left him.

A boy, older than her, sitting with his back against the wall. His ears—fox ears, soft and pointed—barely twitched. His tail lay still. His blindfold was dirty, covering the bruises underneath. His shirt, once green, was torn. His shorts were brown, ragged. His bare feet were scratched and cold.

He didn't lift his head, but he still knew.

"Lily?"

His voice was quiet. So quiet.

She dropped to her knees in front of him, gasping for breath. "I'm here, big brother."

His hand moved slightly, searching. She caught it, pressing his fingers against her face. Warmth. Proof.

He smiled. "You're safe."

She swallowed hard and pushed the bread into his hands. "I got this for you."

His fingers traced the crust. He froze.

"Lily…" His voice was careful now. "You stole this, didn't you?"

She gripped his hand tighter. "I don't care."

He sighed. "Lily, you—"

"I just wanted you to eat." Her voice cracked.

Silence.

Then, he broke off a small piece for himself and handed her the rest. "You eat first."

"I'm not hun—"

Her stomach growled, loud in the quiet.

He smiled, shaking his head. "Lily."

She took it. She bit down. The moment the bread hit her tongue, she realized how hungry she was. She ate fast, too fast, like it might be taken away.

He listened. His hand rested on her head. His smile never reached his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Lily."

She stopped chewing. "For what?"

His grip on the bread tightened. "For being useless."

Something inside her broke.

She grabbed his hands, squeezing hard. "You're not useless."

His fingers twitched. "Lily—"

"You're not." Her voice shook. "You're my big brother."

He exhaled, soft and tired. His hand, rough and cold, brushed through her tangled hair. "Thank you, Lily."

Tears burned behind her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. She just leaned against him, holding on.

The alley was dark. The air was cold. But for a little while, it didn't matter.

Because she wasn't alone. And neither was he.

Outside the Balmount Kingdom

The evening sun was fading, painting the sky in deep orange and purple. I walked beside Grandpa—Subaru—as we made our way through the quiet forest. The cottage appeared ahead, small and hidden between the trees. Grandpa held a brown bag of groceries in one hand, his steps steady.

"Phew… today's been a long day," he sighed as we reached the door. "Kibo, go wash up and change your clothes."

"Okay, Grandpa," I answered, my voice small.

But as I took a step, a sudden dizziness hit me. My stomach twisted, and before I could stop myself, I dropped to my knees, vomiting onto the ground. I felt it happen—my disguise slipping away. My black hair faded back to white, my eyes returning to their real shade of blue.

Grandpa's eyes widened. He quickly set the groceries down and crouched beside me, patting my back.

"It must be hard, using your mana like that," he said softly.

I wanted to say it wasn't, that I could handle it. But the truth clawed at me, frustration mixing with exhaustion.

Of course, it's hard. I'm just a two-year-old kid in a weak body. How am I supposed to be strong all the time?

"Don't worry, Kibo. Let it all out," Grandpa said, his voice steady.

When it finally stopped, I wiped my mouth and looked at him, guilt twisting in my chest. "Sorry, Grandpa. I should clean this up."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. Your old grandpops has got it covered."

His warmth, his humor—it always made things feel lighter. I managed a small smile. "Okay, Grandpa."

I stood up and walked to my room, my body still heavy with exhaustion. Grandpa scratched his head behind me. "Now, where did I keep that napkin?" I heard him mumble.

Inside, my room was simple. A bed, a chest, a small window looking out into the forest. I collapsed onto the mattress, staring at the wooden ceiling.

It's been a year.

It's been a whole year since I arrived here. And today was the first time Grandpa let me go to the kingdom with him. My small hands curled into fists. My body still felt foreign, fragile. But more than that…

I miss them.

Mother. Father. Their faces felt so distant now. Were they okay? Were they looking for me?

I pressed my hand against my face as warmth spilled over my cheeks. I told myself I wouldn't cry. That I had to be strong.

But in the silence of my room, I let myself feel it. Just for a moment.

I missed them so much.