Fateful Encounter I

Gesh's POV:

The town always gave him what he needed.

Not much. Just a few stragglers. Quiet ones. The ones no one remembered seeing last. A boy who wandered too far from the field. A girl no one claimed after a caravan rolled through.

Not often. But often enough.

He never took from the center. That was messy. People noticed missing things when they were close to the noise. But the fringes? The alleys with bad lighting, the streets where doors didn't open unless someone was yelling — those were clean. Simple.

Predictable.

Gesh had passed through this place five times in the last two years.

No one remembered his face.

He made sure of it.

He always set three points when he arrived.

A triangle, anchored with pressure. Invisible to most — but once they were in place, he could feel when someone crossed through. How their weight shifted the space. How their steps pulled too hard or left no pull at all.

This time, it was the seamstress's wall. The fish trap courtyard. The canal post.

Not traps. Not yet. Just instruments. Tuned to register tension.

That's how he knew something was wrong before he even saw the kid.

At first glance, he didn't stand out.

Dark coat. Small frame. Loose stride. He moved like he didn't want to be noticed — and it worked.

The first time Gesh saw him, he was by the bread stall. Nodded at the vendor. Said something soft. Nothing strange.

But something pulled.

Not the boy's face. Not his voice.

His aura.

It leaked like a split seam. Not controlled. Not masked. Just there — wrong in every direction. Pressure without form.

Gesh blinked once.

Then smiled — slow and quiet.

That kind of aura didn't come from anywhere near here. And it sure as hell didn't belong to a child.

He trailed the boy for a while. Watched him move through the market. Watched him change — not clothes, not direction — but posture. Breath. Expression.

Performance.

Smart one, he thought.

But not smart enough.

He passed through the canal zone three times. Always at a different angle. Always testing.

Gesh felt the space tremble each time.

He's searching, Gesh realized. But not for me.

He doesn't know I'm real yet.

By the time the boy turned into the rusted-arch alley, Gesh had already blocked the other paths. Nothing loud. Just pressure on a wheel here. A tug on a line there.

All he needed was for the boy to choose the path he thought was still open.

And he had.

Let's see what you do when something pulls back.

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Kaien's POV:

The air in the alley didn't feel still. It felt suspended — like something had pulled the wind taut and was waiting to see if he'd notice.

Kaien stayed in the center of the path. Back straight. Breath measured. Eyes forward but unfocused, catching the flicker of motion at the edges.

No sound. No birds. Even the wind had gone silent.

Then — a breath behind him. Soft. Controlled. Deliberate.

He didn't turn. Didn't speak.

If they wanted me dead, I'd already be dying.

He let his shoulders relax. Tilted his head slightly. Then turned. Slowly. Eyes lowered.

The man standing behind him leaned casually against the wall — coat loose, boots caked with dust, posture relaxed.

Forgettable face. But Kaien didn't watch the face.

He watched how the light behind him warped.

"…Hello," Kaien said softly.

The man tilted his head.

"You're polite," he said. "Unexpected."

Kaien gave a small shrug, tightening his grip on his coat strap.

"… I didn't mean to bother you."

Tone: low. Gait: still. Breath: even. Keep the performance steady. Let him lead.

"You didn't," the man said. "You've been walking this city for hours, haven't you?"

Kaien nodded, just enough.

"… I get lost easy."

The man watched him for a beat too long. Then smiled.

"You're leaking aura like a broken pipe, kid."

Kaien blinked.

"… Aura? What do you mean?"

Voice: Curious. Not defensive. Make him explain himself.

Gesh chuckled.

"You don't even know, do you?"

Kaien didn't answer right away. Just looked slightly past him, like trying to follow the word.

"… I just feel things, sometimes. In the air. Around people. That's all."

Enough truth to make it believable. Not enough to give anything away.

Gesh grinned wider.

"Here's how this goes," Gesh said, stepping forward.

"The people in this town won't look for you. They never do. And right now, no one else knows what you are."

The air behind him shifted again — not visible, but converging, like something unseen had just clicked into place.

"That makes you valuable."

Kaien didn't react. But his mind registered it:

Pressure change: Very slight. Near the wall behind.

"You're going to come with me," Gesh continued, tone lazy. "Now."

He lowered his hand.

And something changed in the space between them — like the tension between objects tightened.

Kaien didn't move.

But his eyes flicked toward the edges of the alley. A wooden crate near a wall. A crooked stair post to his left. A patch of ground beneath him where the dust had settled too perfectly — like the air had held it there.

Three points. Distinct. Unnatural.

Then — the wind died.

No breeze. No shift. Just stillness.

Not placement. Activation.

The shape is set. I'm inside something I can't see.

He's going to spring it now.

Gesh hadn't moved — not in any obvious way. But his hands had been near the crate a moment ago. Then the stair post.

Just brushes. Casual touches.

And now…

"Let's start small," Gesh said.

And the crate to Kaien's right exploded toward the stair post.

A thunderclap of splintering wood echoed through the alley as the two collided — not thrown, not pushed, but drawn.

Like the air between them had vanished.

Kaien didn't flinch. Just watched.

That wasn't force. That was absence.

The space between them closed.

Completely.

For a second, the ground near his heel lurched — like something pulled from underneath, then vanished.

Not enough to knock him off balance. Just enough to register.

The center of the pull was between them. Not on either one.

Triangulated.

"You see it now?" Gesh asked, voice amused.

Kaien tilted his head slightly, eyes unreadable.

"…You didn't touch them."

Gesh smiled.

"Didn't have to touch them now."

So he touched them before. Casual. Unmarked.

He brushes the surface, moves on. Pretends nothing changed.

Kaien replayed it:

The crate — he'd leaned his hand there.

The stair post — he brushed it while stepping forward.

And just before the snap… Gesh's boot scuffed the cobblestone between them.

Three contact points.

Three surfaces.

Then activation.

But he still didn't know the rule.

Is it always three? A timed delay? Something triggered by my movement?

He shifted slightly to the left. No pull.

Then stepped toward a piece of fence that had fallen askew against the alley wall.

Gesh's eyes flicked — just a little — as Kaien passed near it.

Not placed yet.

I'm not inside anything. Not yet.

He took two more steps.

Gesh shifted his stance — his knuckles brushed the wooden wall beside him.

First touch.

Then, almost casually, he walked past a crate — his fingers barely grazed the top.

Second.

Kaien turned to walk away—

And Gesh's heel tapped the stone behind him. A sharp click of boot on ground.

Third.

Kaien's body moved before the collapse.

He dove to the right — just as the wall, crate, and stone snapped toward each other, the triangle imploding with a soundless crush of air and splintered impact.

The pull was sharp — not suction. Magnetic. Coordinated. Total.

He rolled hard, landed in a crouch.

His breath was steady.

His mind sharper.

The pressure at the edge of his skin hadn't changed — it had returned.

The containment he'd instinctively found after Maren's death now held again, firmer, clearer. A membrane of quiet will.

Still unnamed. Still his.

Three touches. One collapse.

That's the limit.

He stayed crouched behind a cracked stair rail. Dust drifted past his sleeve, slow and lazy, as he contemplated.

Across the alley, Gesh didn't move.

He watched the boy.

Calm. Sharp. Coiled like he'd practiced that fall.

Most kids would've screamed. Or bolted. Or pissed themselves.

This one?

Steady hands. Controlled breath. Not even a shout.

Gesh narrowed his eyes.

And that aura… it's not just leaking anymore. It's holding shape now. Not well — but enough to feel like Ten.

Nobody that age learns Ten on accident. Nobody normal.

It wasn't like watching a prodigy.

It was like watching a creature still figuring out what its instincts meant.

Something old. Untamed.

And maybe dangerous.

Gesh didn't grin this time.

He adjusted the weight of his stance slightly. Rolled one shoulder. A breath pulled in — through his nose, slow and measured.

Recalibrating.

Not brute force. Strategy.

This one's going to cost me time.

Kaien didn't speak.

But his mind moved.

There's a delay. Not just between placement and activation — but between cycles.

He looked at the wrecked triangle behind him — wall, crate, stone.

None of them pulsed anymore.

Used. Burned out.

He needs to start fresh each time.

And he can't do it instantly. That's the flaw.

His breath hitched — just for a second.

It didn't show in his face. But he felt it.

Heart rate up. Muscles tight. That's fear.

It's not useful right now.

If I let it spiral, I won't move when I need to.

The tremble built slowly in the back of his knees, behind the breath he'd held too long.

He closed his eyes — only for a heartbeat.

Acknowledge it. Box it. Move.

And then he stood.

No stance. No threat. Just quiet movement.

He started walking.

Not forward. Not away.

Just… diagonally across the alley.

Toward a series of broken boxes stacked too neatly near a crumbling corner.

He didn't look at Gesh. But he watched his shadow — how it shifted slightly as the man moved along the wall.

Kaien took a half-step closer.

Gesh's elbow nudged a drainpipe.

First.

Kaien turned again, letting his hand graze a railing as he passed — casual.

A bootstep behind him, deliberate.

Second.

Another pivot.

Gesh leaned casually against a crate near the far wall.

Third.

Kaien stopped.

Waited.

The pressure didn't come.

No collapse?

Why?

His eyes flicked back — drainpipe, crate, the stone behind him where Gesh's boot had landed earlier.

That might've been the third.

So why didn't he trigger it?

Is he waiting for something else?

He narrowed his focus.

I wasn't centered between them. Too far left?

He's not just trying to trap me. He wants the trap to work.

Kaien took two steps left — heel landing deliberately on open ground.

Let it linger.

Let Gesh see it.

Then moved — fast.

Past the crate Gesh had touched. Toward the opposite wall.

He tapped it lightly as he passed.

Then stopped again, perfectly between them.

One. Two. Placement.

Wait for the third.

Gesh stepped forward, hand drifting toward a pipe.

Kaien turned and sprinted the opposite way — just enough to shift himself outside the possible triangle.

Across the alley, Gesh paused.

His fingers hovered for a breath. Then dropped.

Didn't commit.

Didn't activate.

That's it.

He won't activate it unless I'm where he wants me.

The activation depends on geometry. He needs the triangle — but he also needs me inside it.

It's not just a trap. It's a precision tool. And he doesn't waste it.

Kaien didn't smile.

He didn't relax.

But he understood now:

He's not all-knowing.

He's gambling on control.

If I keep breaking the shape before he can tighten it…

I can survive.