The Kingdom of Balmount was already alive with noise and movement. Vendors called out their wares, children dashed through the streets, and the scent of fresh bread lingered in the air. The buildings, a mix of stone and wood, gave the kingdom a familiar, lived-in feel.
Away from the market, a small shop stood with a wooden sign reading The Crimson Anvil. Inside, weapons lined the walls—swords, shields, bows, and daggers. The scent of metal and wood filled the space.
Behind the counter, a middle-aged man adjusted a longsword on the display. His hands, rough from years of forging, moved with practiced care. As he worked, the bell above the door chimed.
He glanced up—and froze.
An older man with black-and-gray hair stood in the doorway, dressed in simple clothes. Beside him was a young boy with matching black hair and eyes.
The shopkeeper's face broke into a grin. "I'll be damned! What's the most wanted man doing in my shop?"
Kibo blinked. Wait… what?
The old man chuckled, waving off the comment. "We don't talk about that, my friend. Walls have ears." He pulled the shopkeeper into a firm hug.
When they pulled apart, the shopkeeper eyed him carefully. "I thought you were dead."
"Ha! Nobody can kill me unless I'm too old and weak," Subaru laughed.
The shopkeeper chuckled, shaking his head. "I hope I go before you do."
Subaru gestured to Kibo. "This is my grandson."
Kibo bowed slightly. "Hello, Uncle. It's nice to meet you."
The shopkeeper smiled. "Pleasure's mine, young Kibo." Then, turning back to Subaru, his smile faded. "You're not here just for a friendly visit, are you?"
Subaru shook his head. "I need a small weapon for my grandson."
The shopkeeper's eyes flicked to Kibo, then back to Subaru. He leaned in and muttered, "You're not dragging the kid into your world, are you? He's too young."
Kibo, unaware of the exchange, looked around, mind racing. What kind of weapon does Grandpa want to get me? Do I even have the guts to use one?
Subaru noticed Kibo's thoughtful expression and smiled. "How about a dagger?"
Kibo's eyes lit up. "I'd like that!"
The shopkeeper exhaled and shook his head with a quiet chuckle. "Oh boy…" He turned, leading them toward a display of daggers.
Outside the shop
I held the dagger tightly, my fingers running over the patterns carved into the hilt. It was light, almost too light. The blade shimmered in the sunlight, sharp, unforgiving. I swallowed hard.
Grandpa's voice broke the silence. "What do you think about your new weapon?"
I looked up at him, unsure. "I… I don't know if I can use it properly, Grandpa."
He smiled, ruffling my hair. "You'll learn. Don't worry. You'll get to know how to use it."
I wanted to believe him, but a strange feeling sat heavy in my chest.
We kept walking, the streets noisy with life, but suddenly, something else cut through the morning chatter.
"Hey! Give that back!"
The voice was sharp, filled with frustration. I turned toward the sound and saw a beastwoman gripping a small girl's wrist. The girl's body was tense, her hair messy, her clothes torn and dirt-stained. Her black eyes darted around, desperate.
I knew her. She was the girl who bumped into me earlier. The one with that strange, suffocating mana wrapped around her.
The woman shook the girl roughly. "I'm sick and tired of you street rats stealing from me!"
The girl struggled, but the woman's grip was too strong. Her eyes were wild with fear.
Then Grandpa nudged me, his voice quiet but firm. "Come on, let's go help."
I didn't hesitate—I followed him.
As we got closer, Grandpa spoke in that calm but commanding way of his. "Please, can you let the girl go?"
The beastwoman's ears twitched, and she turned to face him. Her grip on the girl tightened. "No! She stole from me! Every day it's the same thing! I work hard, and these brats think they can just take whatever they want?"
Grandpa didn't argue. He just sighed, reaching into his pocket. A moment later, he held out a gold coin. "Whatever she took, you can buy it back with this."
The woman's eyes flickered to the coin. She hesitated.
Then she shoved the girl toward Grandpa. "Fine. But next time she steals from me, I won't be so kind. I'll call the guards!" She snatched the coin from his hand and stormed off, still muttering angrily under her breath.
The girl stumbled forward, and Grandpa caught her before she could hit the ground. She flinched at his touch, her whole body trembling.
Grandpa knelt in front of her, his voice gentle. "Are you okay, little one?"
The girl hesitated, then gave the smallest nod.
I watched, silent. Her hands were curled into tiny fists, like she was bracing herself for something.
Grandpa's tone softened even more. "What did you steal?"
The girl bit her lip. For a second, she didn't move. Then, with shaky hands, she reached into her ragged clothes and pulled out a single, bruised apple.
I felt something crack inside me.
Just an apple.
That's all it was.
One bruised, half-rotten apple.
And she had been terrified for it.
I clenched my fists. The beastwoman had acted like she had been robbed of something precious. Like this girl had done something unforgivable. But I looked at the apple, then at the girl's thin, frail arms, and I felt sick.
Why can't people feel pity for children like her?
Grandpa reached out, and the girl instantly flinched, squeezing her eyes shut.
But instead of hurting her, he just rested his hand on her head. A soft, gentle touch.
The girl's eyes slowly opened, wide with shock.
Grandpa's voice was kind. "It's bad to steal from others," he said. "I know it's hard, but you have to remember that it's also hard for the people you steal from."
The girl's lips trembled. Then, in a voice so small I almost didn't hear it, she whispered, "I'm sorry."
Grandpa smiled, ruffling her hair lightly. "You don't need to apologize to anyone. Everything is settled now."
I swallowed, staring at the bruised apple again. I wasn't sure why, but my chest felt tight.
I don't understand adults.
Maybe I never would.
Grandpa's eyes flickered to the girl's bare feet. His voice was soft but serious. "Do you have anyone, like a parent or guardian, looking after you?"
The girl didn't respond. She just stared at the ground, her shoulders tense.
Grandpa sighed, then looked at me. "Why don't you say hi to the girl?"
I blinked. "Huh?"
For some reason, I felt nervous. What was I supposed to say?
Still, I took a deep breath and managed, "…Hello."
The girl glanced up at me. Her cheeks turned slightly red. "Hi," she mumbled.
We stood there awkwardly for a second. People were starting to stare. Some walked past, whispering to each other. Others just glanced in our direction before moving along.
Grandpa stood up, brushing off his knees. His smile was warm. "Why don't we go somewhere more comfortable to sit and eat?"
The girl looked up at him, startled.
I was surprised too.
But then Grandpa started walking, and without thinking, I followed.
And after a few hesitant steps… so did she.
Some minutes later
We sat on a worn-out bench, the three of us. The girl sat between me and Grandpa, her small hands still clutching the apple like it was the most precious thing in the world. Grandpa handed her a grilled meat skewer, offering me one too.
I took a big bite, letting the warmth of the food fill me. "It's good. You should try it," I said, smiling at her.
She hesitated, but then, slowly, she took a bite. The moment the taste hit her tongue, her eyes widened. She chewed carefully, like she was afraid it would disappear too soon. Grandpa watched her with that gentle smile of his, the one that always made me feel safe.
After a moment, he asked softly, "Do you have parents?"
The girl's chewing slowed. Her face darkened, her shoulders sinking as she shook her head. "I don't have any parents," she said quietly.
Something inside me clenched. Those words—so simple, yet so heavy.
Grandpa's voice stayed gentle. "Do you have anyone else? Like family?"
She hesitated, then nodded. "I have a big brother."
Grandpa gave a small nod. "Where is he?"
That was when her whole body tensed. She suddenly jumped off the bench, gripping the apple tightly. "My big brother is sick and hungry," she blurted out. Her voice shook, her eyes darting around like she had just realized she'd been sitting here too long.
I watched her, my chest tightening. Whoever her brother was, he must've meant everything to her.
Grandpa, calm as ever, simply said, "Can you lead us to him?"
She nodded quickly and turned, already moving. Grandpa glanced at me. "Let's go."
We followed her through the busy streets until we reached a dark alley. The air felt different here—heavier. The buildings leaned too close together, and the smell of dampness and rot clung to the walls.
The girl rushed forward—then stopped.
I froze.
The spot where she had been heading was empty. No blanket. No brother. Just a dark stain on the ground.
Blood.
Her breath hitched. Then, she ran forward, her voice breaking. "Big brother? Where are you?! Big brother!"
Her panic spread through me like wildfire. I glanced at Grandpa. His face had lost its warmth. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the alley.
He knelt beside her, speaking gently. "Did anything unusual happen recently?"
The girl, breathing fast, clutched the apple even tighter. "Some bad men came... They were asking my big brother for money he owed them."
Grandpa's jaw tightened. I knew that look. He was thinking. Planning.
Grandpa sighed. "Money? What kind of men?"
Her voice was small, shaking. "They said... if he didn't pay, they'd take him away."
Grandpa placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. "Can you tell me what he looks like?"
She described him in a trembling voice—his messy hair, his kind face, how he always told her everything would be okay even when it wasn't.
Grandpa listened, then stood up. His decision was made. "I'll find him."
Then he turned to me. "You take the girl home. Make sure she gets there safely, and avoid any trouble."
I nearly choked. "Wait, wait, wait! How can I do that when I barely know the way back? I'm only two years old! And what if we get kidnapped?!"
I looked at the girl beside me. Her big, tear-filled eyes met mine.
So cute...
No! Focus, Kibo!
I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and nodded. "I'll take care of it, Grandpa."
Grandpa smiled, ruffling my hair. "I know you will." Then, without another word, he disappeared into the city.
I stood there, staring at the empty space he had left behind, my heart pounding. Then, I turned to the girl. She looked at me hesitantly, like she wasn't sure if she should trust me.
I forced a smile. "Come on, let's go."
She hesitated for just a moment before slipping her small hand into mine. Her fingers were trembling.
I felt something stir inside me.
I didn't know if it was fear. Or responsibility.
All I knew was that, for now, I had to get her home.
We started walking, but deep in my gut, something felt off.
Something about this wasn't over.
And I had a terrible feeling that before the night ended, I'd find out exactly why.