The steady patter of rain filled the air on the crowded borders of the outer district, where rusted dwellings squeezed against one another and lives overlapped in worn routines.
The world kept moving.
Greasy old cars rumbled down the slick roads, drunks stumbled past flickering street lights, and sellers slumped over their stalls, shouting out to no one in particular.
Among the numerous spirits drifting through the rain, a lonely child wandered alone, his small physique saturated.
Water streamed from his dark locks, and strands clung to his face, partially concealing his eyes.
He appeared to be wearing thin, ragged garments that clung to his skin and were soaked with rain.
He passed rows of metal boxes that were temporary dwellings made from scrap.
Dim yellow and blue lights glowed from within, each one a glimpse into another life.
Through the narrow cracks and half-closed doors, he caught quick glances.
A man ranting at an unseen person, an elderly woman sitting quietly with a cigarette in hand, a drunken puking on the floor, and a street dog barking in the corner while a TV was on.
These scenes did not appear weird.
He had seen them before. So they were not new.
He kept marching, step by step, toward whatever he called shelter—until something forced him to stop.
An old compartment's yellow light seeped through the damaged curtains, throwing a dismal shine on his sleepy face.
His heavy, watchful eyes lingered for a moment.
He stood there.
"...."
After lingering outside for a time, he finally stepped inside, his wet clothes dripping into the broken concrete floor, leaving a small path of water that darkened the already soiled ground.
The room was dim, illuminated only by the flicker of a solitary lamp suspended from the ceiling.
The air was wet, with a strong smell of mildew and something slightly unpleasant.
At the far end of the room, a skinny woman remained still, her thin arms hanging by her side. Her eyes, large and dull like those of a dead fish, looked forward without blinking.
Something about her posture, unnervingly still and almost statuesque, sent a shiver through those watching.
Her presence didn't demand attention, yet it held it all the same, like a shadow that had forgotten how to move.
The boy walked toward her, stopped at her side and said nothing.
He did not address her. Just stood there, silent, as if this type of scene had happened too many times before to be meaningful.
His gaze gradually followed hers.
There, on an old wooden bed that creaked with every movement, slept a girl, if that's the right word.
She appeared hardly human, emaciated to the bone, her limbs twisted at strange angles. Her skin was pale, more or less apparent, and spread thinly across her malformed arms and legs. Her eyes were wide but unfocused, colorless and hazy, fixed on nothing.
She lay in her own filth, the foul-smelling stains soaking through the ragged blanket underneath her.
Her body remained motionless, except for the gradual, shallow rise and fall of her chest.
Still alive.
But only just.
The silence in the room seemed to press heavier around them, as if the air itself had become heavy with the weight of unheard words.
Finally, the boy directed his sight to the woman.
"Why aren't you harming her?"
"....."
The woman did not move. Didn't blink. Her blank eyes remained locked on the girl on the bed, as if she hadn't heard him.
The silence persisted, dense and hollow, filling every crack in the walls.
The boy breathed slowly.
He stretched out and delicately touched her arm. When they made contact, his dull black eyes darkened, transforming into deep, crystalline obsidian.
A flicker passed through him, and the world changed.
_______
The sun had disappeared behind the clouds.
A woman was seen stepping out of a building which was flickering with neon red and purple lights.
Her face was pale, and her eyes had a far-off look, unfocused.
She held a small cloth bag to her chest, the strap frayed and damp from the rain.
She turned into a tiny lane and walked carefully, her sandals splashing in shallow puddles.
Her steps were weary, as if she was used to walking through places no one wanted to see.
But suddenly, a man emerged from behind a corner.
The woman who spotted him attempted to leave, but he pounced at her and grabbed her by the neck.
The woman attempted everything she could to get out of his tight, calloused grip, but he shoved her into the wall.
The bag slipped from her grasp and dropped to the ground, spilling its contents, an old scarf, a few crumpled bills, and some loose coins.
She fought, but she was tiny and exhausted.
He pinned her easily.
The alley stayed quiet, except for the muffled grunts of the man.
And after some time—
The man was walking away with a grin, now stuffing the cash into his pockets and dragging on a cigarette, his back already turned.
He didn't look back as he walked away.
—---
Inside the alley, the woman lay right where the man had left her broken.
She was naked, with her garments ripped and her skin scratched raw from the concrete.
Her face was beaten, swollen, and filthy.
While her body was twisted on the ground, exposed in the chilly rain.
Her breathing was shallow.
Blood combined with water beneath her.
She didn't move, didn't cry.
Her motionless eyes settled on a photo sitting close.
It was a photo of her carrying a young, handicapped infant in her arms.
"..."
A single tear slipped from her eyes—
And the light in them faded away.
________
Inside the dim room, the boy's obsidian eyes slowly lost their eerie gloss and unknown depths, returning to their dull black.
He winced, a stinging ache flashing behind his eyes as he raised a hand to his temple, steadying himself.
For a moment, he stood still, breathing through the pain.
Then a quiet sigh slipped from his lips.
"...Family," he murmured, the word unfamiliar on his tongue.
His eyes shifted to the gaunt woman.
And for the first time… she reacted.
Perhaps because of his word, a flicker of something passed across her face.
It was soft and fleeting, like a memory surfaced inside the woman.
But he only shook his head, and turned away from the ghostly woman.
Without another word, he walked toward the bed.
The girl still lay there, still, her breathing faint. Her vacant eyes looked blankly at the ceiling, and her fragile limbs twitched beneath the thin, dirty blanket.
No awareness.
Just quiet suffering.
The boy glanced down at her for a little period, his expression opaque.
Then he gently sought for a cushion. He held it in both hands, paused briefly, and then carefully lowered it over her face.
Lightning flashed and rumble ecoed throughout the house.
The girl did not resist, and his hold remained firm.
After a moment.
There was no sound.
There's no struggle.
Just silence.
When it was finished, he stayed there for a little longer, the pillow still in his hands and the rain gently tapping against the roof.
He laid the pillow aside and bent down to close the girl's eyelids with the tips of his fingers before pulling the thin blanket up over her and carefully tucking it around her petite figure.
Then, standing next to her, he raised one hand and made a gentle gesture through the air.
With two fingers, he stroked a slow arc through the air, beginning at his forehead and moving down past his lips, then forth, as if guiding something free.
A second later, the boy turned back to face the far end of the room.
A faint silhouette appeared in front of the woman's ghostly body. It was little and whitish, resembling fog in sunshine.
It was the girl.
…Or some echo of her, now no longer bound by the twisted body on the bed.
She raised her hand toward the woman, slow and hesitant.
But the woman instinctively stepped back, her hands trembled as she did, as if her touch might stain the girl.
At that moment, the girl's face shifted.
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came.
Just a small, barely-there quiver.
Tears welled in her pale eyes and slipped down her cheeks.
But just as she was on the verge of falling apart, the boy took a step forward.
"Nemu."
His low voice came out in a murmur.
From the shadows and dust at his feet, something stirred.
A small, black creature took shape, rising as if pulled together by invisible threads. Its form was smoke-like, but sharp at the edges, tiny wings flapping softly, a long tail trailing behind it.
Two pale eyes blinked open on its featureless face. It hovered before the boy, waiting.
"Devour" he said.
The creature nodded and glided through the air toward the woman.
As it neared, it opened its mouth, far wider than its size should allow.
Black wisps shot out from the woman's body, twisting and thrashing like smoke caught in wind.
Her eyes widened as the darkness was removed from her, strand by strand.
She began to glow faintly, first dim, then brighter, as if something buried deep inside her was cleansing. Within moments, the wisps were gone.
The creature closed its mouth with a burp and drifted back to the boy's side, hovering quietly once more.
The woman stood still, breathing softly in the hush that followed.
Then she looked down, and the girl's small arms wrapped around her waist.
Her body shimmered.
Tears welled in her eyes, as she stooped down and cradled the girl in her arms.
She held the girl close, tighter than before.
Together, their shapes grew brighter, glowing with a soft, white light that pushed gently against the dark corners of the room.
Just before they vanished, the woman looked at the boy.
She bowed her head.
And then, like smoke caught in sunlight, they faded away.
The room fell silent.
The boy stood there for a long moment, the small black creature hovering quietly at his side. Its wings barely made a sound as they flapped, keeping it afloat like a weightless shadow.
The boy reached out and touched it gently with two fingers.
"Are you still hungry?" he asked.
The creature nodded slowly, its dark eyes blinking once. The boy's expression remained the same. His face remained motionless, unreadable.
"Don't worry," he said. "I have a meal for you to devour. But you'll have to wait for it."
At that, the creature let out a peculiar, gentle giggle, light and almost joyous, like dried leaves rustling in the breeze.
Then, without making a sound, it dispersed into a swirl of dark dust and vanished into thin air.
The boy stepped outside and left the house behind. Rain fell steadily, and he leaned back, letting the chilly drops fall on his pale face.
After a few moments
"You killed someone."
A voice spoke from someplace unseen.
It was calming and soothing. Not angry, just attentive.
The boy did not flinch. His eyes were closed as he stood in the rain.
"I didn't kill anyone," he said quietly.
"Then wha-"
"Unlike her mother, I freed her from misery." The boy interrupted the voice mid way.
"If I were in that girl's place I would prefer quick death over that….. miserable existence"
"Is that so?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm, even if you didn't murder that child… but you will kill that man, won't you?"
"....What bullshit are you spouting?" the boy muttered with eyes closed, his expression serene.
"I'm not some psychopath. I'm just a dutiful owner… feeding 'dog food' to his pet."
Silence.
Then came a laugh.
Not loud, amused but somehow tired.
"You are twisted, child," the voice said softly.
"But maybe that's what makes you fit for this world."
"...."
The boy did not respond.
He lowered his head and walked alone down the lonely, rainy street.
------
A/N : Hah, I just dropped all the chapters at once like a maniac and now I've got to actually write more. Pain.
But hey, if you've enjoyed the story so far, consider supporting it with some power stones or an early review. It helps a lot (and gives me the will to keep grinding).
Thanks a ton! You're awesome.