It was 17:00 when Juna walked back into the Guild with Fin trailing behind, still getting used to his new suit. She headed straight for the Guildmaster's office, knocked once, and went in. Mara was already there, still buried in papers.
"Here's his account number," she said, sliding a paper across the desk. "For the money."
The Guildmaster nodded, writing it down. "It'll process soon."
Mara stepped in. "I need it too. I have pay him the money I promised."
Juna smirked. "Oh, right. The porter thing. Almost forgot he's yours."
Mara's eyes narrowed, but she stayed quiet, taking a copy of the number and jotting it down fast.
Fin who was at the back just watching, shifted, feeling out of place. "Uh, thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," Mara said, tone flat. "You still owe me work."
Juna winked. "You're welcome, sweetie."
The guildmaster looked it him for a few seconds. "I see you have improved your appearance."
"Yes, thanks to Juna, she is very kind."
Mara looked at Juna annoyed, "is that so. We will have a talk about this tomorrow."
After things began to get awkward, they left, and an hour later, Fin's new phone buzzed—the one Juna had grabbed during their shopping run. He checked it: 150,000 credits deposited. His chest tightened.
'So much money.'
He didn't wait, he ran straight to his new house. The salesman was outside, waiting for him with a smile on his face.
"You are here sir?" Tor asked, ready to seal the deal.
"Yeah," Fin said, pulling his bank card. "Let's do it."
Tor's smile widened as they sealed the deal—100,000 credits gone. "Congratulations. It's yours now."
Fin took the keys, nodding. "Thanks."
That night, he sat at his new kitchen table, eating roast chicken and potatoes. The meat was tender, the taste rich—better than anything from the slums. He savored it, stomach full for once.
His mind drifted to Juna. Her voice came back, clear from earlier, when they'd talked by the car.
---
They were outside the clothing store, bags in the backseat. Fin turned to her, frowning. "Why're you doing this? Hair, clothes, house—what's the deal?"
Juna's smile softened. "It's an investment."
"In me?" he asked, brow creasing.
"Yeah," she said, arms crossed. "I don't fight but I see potential. Yours is the highest I've ever come across."
He stared. "That's crazy. I'm F-rank. A slum kid. What potential?"
She shook her head. "You don't see it yet. But I do. You've got something huge in you—way bigger than F-rank."
He rubbed his neck. "So what do you want?"
"To be your friend," she said, leaning in. "Help you now. Later, I'll need a favor—something big. Hope you'll remember this and say yes."
"A favor?" he pressed. "Like what?"
"I can't tell you that," she said, shrugging. "But when it's time, you'll know," she turned to him and he saw something genuine in her eyes, "I hope you will help me."
It looked like she was sad.
---
Back at the table, Fin speared a potato, chewing slow. High potential? Didn't add up. He just survived by dumb luck and grit. But Juna's words stuck—sharp, insistent. She saw something worth betting on.
He leaned back, looking at the ceiling. "Guess we'll see," he muttered. "Better not screw it up."
The food was too good to waste on doubts. He kept eating, the warmth settling in. A full belly, a house, a friend who believed in him—that was enough for tonight.
---
Fair point. I'll slow it down a bit, give it more room to breathe, and let the moment settle in. Here's a revised version—still simple, no fluff, but paced to feel natural and immersive.
---
The next morning, Fin woke to sunlight slipping through the curtains of his new house. The bed was soft, unfamiliar, and for a second, he just lay there, staring at the clean ceiling.
He dragged himself up, took a shower, put on his suit and headed out. His plan was the Guild, same as usual. But when he reached the building, he didn't go in. Something pulled him past it, his direction changed towards the slums.
One thought sat heavy in his chest: 'It's time, Meg. Time to get you out of there.'
The walk wasn't short. The city's shine faded block by block—polished shops turned to crumbling storefronts, then to open gutters and trash piles. The air hit him first, that sour mix of rot and smoke he'd grown up with.
It sank into his lungs, dragging up memories he tried to bury: nights shivering under a thin blanket, the growl of his empty stomach, Meg's quiet voice promising they'd make it somehow. He clenched his jaw and kept going, the streets narrowing into the scene he knew too well.
Their old house came into view—barely a house, really. The walls sagged, boards splintered, and the roof looked one storm away from caving in. He stopped at the door, taking a slow breath.
The stink was stronger here, sharp and bitter. He raised his hand and knocked, the sound dull against the wood.
"Coming!" a girl's voice called from inside, sharp and annoyed. Footsteps shuffled closer, and the door creaked open.
Meg stood there, a bag of chips in her hand, her purple hair messy like always. The bag slipped from her fingers, hitting the ground with a soft crunch. Her eyes locked on him, wide and shaky.
"F-Fin?" she stammered, like she couldn't trust what she was seeing.
"Yeah," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It's me. Came to pick you—"
She didn't wait for the rest. She threw herself at him, arms wrapping around his waist, hugging him so tight he had to brace himself.
Her face pressed into his chest, and he could feel her trembling. "I missed you so much," she said, voice muffled against his jacket. "Thought you forgot me."
He rested a hand on her head, steadying her. "Forget you? Never." He pulled back just enough to look at her—those familiar eyes, now wet with tears she was trying to blink away.
"I went to the city to be a Hunter. For us. For our future. You're the most important person in my life—how could I leave you behind?"
She stared up at him, searching his face like she needed to be sure. Then she smiled, small but real, wiping her sleeve across her eyes.
"Haha, well what took you so long dummy."
"A lot happened," he said, voice firm. "Now pack your stuff. We're getting out of this place for good."
She nodded, still gripping his arm like he might vanish if she let go.
"Okay. Give me a minute." She ducked back inside, leaving the door open, and Fin stood there, breathing in the slum air one last time, knowing it wouldn't follow them anymore.