Chapter Text
The sun is setting.
Before, she had few chances to watch it set. Her old master did not believe in such frivolities, and she followed what he said. After all, she was his weapon.
Or she was supposed to be, at least. She was not a good weapon, a good weapon would not have run away like she did.
Would not have become terrified when
But she cannot change it. She won’t.
She won’t go back.
So she is here, in this city that she is still learning.
It’s not all bad. There are shop owners and people with carts who give her food when she visits them. They have tried to get her to come inside, have used their mouths to make those strange sounds while being open and gentle, but she will not go. She cannot trust them, not yet.
Even still, they give her food, and so she goes back.
Today’s food is something new: a strange, flat bread with meat and vegetables in it. It is crispy and good. She hopes the cart owner will give her more next time.
She finishes eating just as the sun disappears. There will be no stars; she has not seen them since the day she arrived here.
Perhaps that is why this city doesn’t sleep. Some parts of it go quiet for a while, but others never rest, remaining loud and wild at all hours.
It’s noisy. She isn’t sure she likes it.
But the alternative…
The alternative is something she does not want.
And she won’t go back. Her old master would never accept it anyway.
So she moves, under that starless sky. She runs over rooftops, hiding in the shadows wherever she can. She is silent, unseen to the human eye unless they know how to look.
Very few know how to look.
It is a long time before she finds anything. That happens, though not very often. As terrible as this city is, even it has quieter nights, nights where fewer people want to turn their anger on someone vulnerable.
Someone who can’t fight back.
Still, like always, she finds something. A man approaching a woman and her child. He has a knife in one hand, and is holding out the other. She has seen it many times, and sometimes people will hand over strange rectangles or their bags. She does not know the significance of it, but those who hand over their items always seem distressed.
The woman’s child is afraid. They are very likely to start crying, and the man is on edge to the point that it may cause him to snap.
She won’t let that happen. This target will not get away unscathed.
She is about to make her move when she sees a figure moving in the shadows. She ducks down, watching carefully as it gets closer, until finally there is enough light for her to make out a cape and pointed ears.
She narrows her eyes, slipping back into the darkness just as he pounces. The man is unskilled, clearly unprepared to face anyone stronger than a child, but even if he were she suspects the pointy-eared man would still be too much for him.
He fights like her old master, after all. This man could not compare to either of them.
Still, the man tries to fight back. He throws unsteady punches that the pointy-eared man easily dodges, tries to grab his cape when the pointy-eared man sweeps his leg out, but it is to no avail: he falls, and the pointy-eared man crouches and punches him once, twice before he is unconscious.
When the man is down, the pointy-eared man turns to the woman and child, makes low, gravelly noises with his mouth. The woman makes noises of her own, her child cradled in her arms.
The child is no longer afraid. They reach out, palm held out, and the pointy-eared man shifts, turning softer. After a moment, he presses his palm to the child’s hand. They let out a happy noise, one that the woman also makes a softer version of.
The pointy-eared man makes more mouth noises, and the woman shakes her head, pointing at a building a short distance away. The pointy-eared man nods, then watches them walk over to the building. A moment later, the woman and her child go into the building, which seems to be enough for the pointy-eared man to stop watching. His head turns, and she ducks down, her heart racing in her chest.
She waits. And waits.
Eventually, she hears one of the loud road machines with flashing lights approach. When the siren stops, she looks up to find that the pointy-eared man is talking to a woman with an odd hat.
He is distracted. He will not notice her.
She moves, running to the next rooftop, then the next, until she is far enough that she thinks she can rest without risking him catching up to her.
The pointy-eared man has been around here every night for many, many days now. She is certain he is trying to find her. For what, she does not know, but she fears it has something to do with the colorful boy disappearing after the night where she saved him, and then he helped her.
The pointy-eared man was… angry, when he found them. It was frightening. And she has not seen the colorful boy out since.
She supposes it makes sense, though. The colorful boy was the pointy-eared man’s weapon. A weapon does not anger their master, or else they will be disposed of.
She had thought, though, that the pointy-eared man was a kinder master than her own. He was much gentler with the colorful boy than her old master was with her, would use his mouth to make noises that made the colorful boy happy.
One time, she saw him ruffle the colorful boy’s hair. The colorful boy made angry noises with his mouth, but she saw happiness in his body.
Seeing that was so… strange. A master, being kind to their weapon? She had never seen such a thing before. Her old master was strict, exacting in his demands.
But this master… she had thought…
She scowls, pulling her hood down a little further.
It no longer matters what she thought. It was not true.
All masters are the same. They will not show mercy if crossed.
She does not need another master. She has survived on her own this long, she will keep surviving without anyone else.
She is weak. Too weak for her old master.
But she is strong enough to fight back against the monsters in this city. And that will have to be enough.
The rest of her night is normal. She fights when she needs to. Keeps out of sight of anyone who would try and take her. When the sky begins to turn purple with the dawn, she goes to one of the shops. The woman there is happy to see her, and gives her something sweet made of bread, with a fruity jam in the center.
When she is full, she finds a new place to sleep. She knows that no one comes here, so it is safe. She curls into herself, tucking her knees into the large garment she took from where it was hanging.
She sleeps until the sun is high in the sky. Then, she moves again— staying more than a few hours in one place is dangerous. Her old master taught her that.
She approaches a cart. The owner greets her, then gives her what she usually gives her— a breaded stick of unknown meat on a stick, with some sort of sauce on it. When she is about to go, she waves at her, then makes mouth noises.
She is worried. She is not sure why.
She turns and leaves, and she makes mouth noises for another minute before seeming to give up.
When she is done eating, she finds another place to sleep— another abandoned building no one goes into.
She sleeps until it is nearly sunset. Then, she goes to one more place: another cart with a woman who sells meat and vegetables, this time in a hard shell. She watches the sunset again while she eats.
Then, when her food and the sun are both gone, she goes looking.
Tonight, it doesn’t take as long as last night. A girl who is older than her is running from a group of large men. She does not know why, but she assumes it cannot be for a good reason.
So, when they run her into a place between buildings with no exit, she strikes, dropping down from a metal staircase with platforms to kick one of the men in the face.
The first one is easy. She caught him off guard, and he is not a good fighter. Three hits to the head and he goes down, blood flowing from his nose to pool under his head.
The second is harder. He grabs her, holding her up by one of her arms. He is a fool, however, and left one unsecured; a palm strike to his face catches him off guard, and he lets go as he stumbles back. She kicks one of his knees, causing it to bend oddly, and he goes down with a howl. When he is lying on the floor, she moves to hit the other knee, but before she can the third man grabs her, restraining her arms behind her back.
She hears the girl make a loud, distressed noise, to which the man keeping her restrained makes angry noises. She tries to get out of his grip, but it is tight, and she cannot get the leverage to break it.
Her heart beats fast. She tries to kick backwards, but she can’t seem to hit anything.
She hears him make a mouth noise, like the one the child the pointy-eared man saved last night made, but it’s not joyous, it’s mean. One of his hands reaches around, grabs her by the throat and lifts—
She hears him shout, an impact, and he lets go, letting her fall to the floor. She blinks, then turns to see—
Her stomach turns.
The pointy-eared man is here, kneeling over the third man as he punches him in the face.
Her throat hurts a little as she gets to her feet, staggering slightly. She takes a few steps back, watching as the pointy-eared man rises to his feet once the third man falls unconscious. He looks at her, staring for a moment. He is cautious, but closed off.
He opens his mouth and makes noises. They are different noises from the ones that she’s heard most people make. He seems very serious for some reason. After a moment, he turns back to the girl.
This is her opportunity. She remains light on her feet, slinking into the darkness and away from them.
As soon as she thinks she’s in the clear, she turns and runs.
She thinks she hears the pointy-eared man shout behind her, then definitely hears loud, quick footsteps. She ducks into another one of those places between buildings with no exit, running up the metal stairs and onto the roof. He follows her, even as she leaps between roofs.
He is fast, given his size. Her old master said bigger targets can’t move as fast, but the pointy-eared man seems to be going against that.
It does not matter. She is still faster, and she can run for a very, very long time. Longer than he can, because eventually she no longer hears those footsteps behind her. She stops, a little tired and very relieved, breathing in and out for a while before climbing down another set of metal steps. Once she’s on the floor, she puts her hands in her pockets and heads out toward the open street. It is still late, late enough that she does not yet feel the need to seek out food. There is still time for her to—
The pointy-eared man rounds the corner just as she is about to walk out onto the street, blocking her path. She stumbles back, then lunges forward, aiming a punch at his gut. He catches her wrist, holding on tight enough that she can’t slip away before dropping to one knee and making more of the mouth noises that are different from the mouth noises she’s heard from others. His voice is low, gentle.
She does not trust it, and aims a fist at his face. He catches that too, his voice going a little firmer. He makes another set of mouth noises, different from the other two, and she tries to twist out of his grip. He is strong, though, and doesn’t let go, just repeating the noises again before suddenly stopping. His eyes are wide, his grip loosening a little. He makes more mouth noises; this time, they sound like the ones he used the first time they met.
She tries to knee him in the stomach. His stomach is strong, though, and it hurts her knee a little. She whimpers, and his face turns concerned, letting go entirely.
Before he has a chance to grab her again, she turns and runs. She hears him shout, but this time she won’t be so easy to catch— she knows more hiding places than he does. She finds another one of the places between buildings, one with a stack of boxes so big that it’s easy to slip inside and curl up. She hardly dares to breathe, watching, waiting, listening.
She hears rushed footsteps. The pointy-eared man’s voice making hushed, angry mouth noises.
And then, maybe quickly or maybe an eternity later, he walks away. Eventually, she hears a loud machine roll by.
She waits there for a long time. She will not allow herself to be caught again.
Finally, after what feels like forever, she exhales, crawling out of the boxes and looking around.
He is gone. She is safe.
But it was close. Too close. She cannot let him get that close again.
She will not be made anyone’s weapon again. All masters are the same, and they all will demand a weapon stronger than she is.
A weapon who will not flinch when she is made to
She shakes her head.
It is in the past. She will never do that again.
No one will ever make her do that again.
She takes out several more targets before the sun begins to rise. When dawn breaks, she goes to another shop she knows. The owner takes longer to come out, but when he notices her he gives her a piece of bread with an egg on it. It is good, and she eats it while the sunrise fades away.
She moves to another hiding spot. It is empty, which is good— one time this place was occupied, and the person who was there made angry mouth noises at her until she ran away. It was unpleasant, so she only sleeps here when she is sure there is no one else around.
She sleeps. Hours pass.
When she rises, she is hungry once more. She goes to another cart, where the owner gives her a triangular piece of bread with meat and cheese on it. Once she is full, she moves again, to another hiding spot.
She sleeps. Hours pass.
She awakes to the sunset. Her stomach growls, and she goes to find food.
She is not planning on going to the breaded meat stick cart. It would not be filling enough, not to hunt on. However, the restaurant with the soup and strange noodles is in a similar direction, so she passes by the cart on the way there. She looks down as she runs over the closest room, mostly to see if the woman who runs it is there today—
She freezes dead in her tracks, heart hammering in her chest.
The pointy-eared man is with the breaded meat stick cart owner.
She crouches down, creeping over to the edge of the roof and peering over. The pointy-eared man has some sort of flat rectangle in his hand, which he is holding up to show the cart owner. They are making mouth noises at each other, and the pointy-eared man is nodding at the noises the cart owner makes.
She slowly backs away from the edge, clenching and unclenching her fists. She turns her head toward the rest of the city, the part she has never dared go to.
She does not know what is there. And there were targets here, so it was better to stay and take care of them.
But… perhaps there are targets there, too. Targets that the pointy-eared man would not look at. He might not be able to find her if she goes.
And she cannot stay here. She knows that if she does, he will find her, and she does not want to be found by him.
Her stomach growls. She clenches her fists again, then rises to her feet.
There is a shop near the edge of her— this area. She will go there, and take the food they give her.
Then, she will leave. The path ahead is long, and may be dangerous— there are many large, noisy metal creatures that come from there, more than are here. She will have to be more careful, will have to stay in the shadows and avoid anyone she sees.
But it will be safer to go. If he loses track of her, he may decide not to try and find her again.
She will not replace the colorful boy. She will not end up like him.
She gazes out at the tall buildings, feeling sad for a moment. She will miss this place— it is terrible, but it was easy to be here. She had a purpose, one that she could fulfill easily.
But she must go. She must find another place to fulfill that purpose.
She takes a deep breath, then turns toward the city and starts running.