Before Bari and Flint found themselves at Ky's doorstep, there was an incident.

It began in a crowded plaza. Bari was vibrating with excitement as he held a vibrant, pink flier in his hand. The paper crunched beneath his careless, curled fingers while enthusiasm tugged at the corner of his lips.

Flint scanned him up and down. His demeanor was familiar. "Are you onto something good?"

"Hell yeah, I am! There's a traveling exhibition in town, and they got some incredibly valuable shit on display! Some royal charms from Yusho or something, I dunno. They sound like glorified nicknacks to me, but they're bound to be worth a lot!" Bari's eyes flicked to the paper in his hands. "Says here it's being held in the community center— those charms should be super easy to swipe! We should go for it—!"

"Absolutely not."

Bari blinked, blindsided. His brow quirked upward. "Why not?"

"You said they're royal, didn't you?" Flint's expression hardened. "We are not messing with royalty."

"But it's ripe for the picking, man! And it'll pay well, too. Think about it, we won't have to worry about money for a hot minute!"

"It's not worth the risk. End of story."

Flint folded his arms and pivoted away, only for Bari to maneuver himself right back in front of him. Bari shoved the crinkled pink flier directly in Flint's face, but Flint kept his head turned and his eye focused on the sea of people pushing through the plaza.

"C'mon! You know this is an amazing opportunity!"

"It's an amazing opportunity to get fucked if we're caught."

"So we don't get caught! Easy!"

"Bari, no." Flint swatted the flier from Bari's hand. It danced in the air, swaying back and forth like a pendulum, before gracefully landing on the ground. "You know what happened last time I tried to steal from royalty?"

"Flint—"

"I ended up in Woodgate for seven years. Royalty shows no mercy. At absolute best they just kill you, at worst they cage you up for the rest of your life."

"...Flint, I think you got those two worst-case scenarios backward."

"I said what I said." Flint's features scrunched up further. "And I'm not making the same mistake twice."

"...You're not. I get what you're saying, but this is different."

Bari bent down and retrieved the flier. He held it out in front of his chest like a prize.

"We're going at this together. And we're an unstoppable thieving force, you and I. We're gonna be in and out of that exhibit with charms in hand, no problem. Then we could kick back and just focus on having fun for a while, get me?"

Flint didn't answer. He stared at his boots as he bit his lip.

"...And you know I wouldn't let anything happen to either of us. We'd be going back to prison over my dead body— not literally!" Bari felt sweat build on his neck as Flint shot him a fearful, concerned look. "What I'm trying to say is, trust me! 'Cuz I trust you. We were trained for this, Flint. They'll never even know we were there! We'll be fine!"

Flint unfolded his arms and peered up at Bari, considering...

He should have listened to his gut. Taking those charms was nothing but a mistake.

* * *

It's just as Robin feared: the restaurant is very, very high-end.

Dim lighting, a candle and a single rose in the center of each table, pure white table cloths, stainless wine glasses, spotless floors and seats you sink right into, men and women chatting and laughing in suits and gowns— it's like something straight out of a movie. Music, a low-key jazz of some sort, plays faintly in the background as silverware and plates clink together. Authentic paintings line the walls, a glass chandelier hangs above them, even the embroidered silverware is made out of honest, legitimate sterling silver; Robin's inner thief nearly splits their brain in half trying to assign a monetary value to everything.

Robin couldn't feel more out of place if she tried. Her nicest plaid dress suddenly seems no better than the rags of a beggar.

But then she looks over at Sara beside her, who wears a crop top and her ripped denim jeans. Somehow, Robin feels the slightest bit more comfortable.

Across from them sits Sara's oldest sister, Tsubasa. She has the same warm chocolate eyes and the same striking white hair, though she wears her hair loose as opposed to tied back. Her expression is proper, poised, unreadable— the poster child of what one would expect from a princess. Next to her is Carolina, the proclaimed head of Andaweal's national guard— according to her, it's a position that her father passed down to her despite her youth. She's deadpan, appearing bored out of her skull as she toys with the ends of her short, black hair.

When Sara told Robin that Carolina is fiercely loyal to Tsubasa, she must have meant it. She must possess utmost loyalty to endure sitting at this table when she obviously doesn't want to be here.

Robin imagines this isn't quite her scene, either. She would find solidarity in that if it wasn't for the cold, sealed-off, almost hostile aura Carolina emits.

Both women have dressed appropriately for the setting— Tsubasa in a strapless purple gown, Carolina in a dress shirt and pants. Tsubasa stares at Sara from across the table, features crossed between concern and skepticism.

"...Sara." Tsubasa's voice hums with a cautious cadence. "Mother and Father wouldn't approve of those clothes."

Sara doesn't look up from her menu. "Mother and Father aren't here."

"...That is correct, but—"

"But what? They aren't here, so they don't get a say."

"...Maybe not, but they are very worried about you. Tell me, are you taking your classes seriously—?"

"Mhm."

Sara flips the menu to the back, looking over all the alcoholic drinks she can't ask for. She raises it to block her face from her sister's view. Tsubasa grimaces at the transparent ploy.

"...Robin." Tsubasa smiles a bit too wide to be natural. "I am so happy my dear Sara made a friend. Please, tell us more about yourself. Where are you from?"

"...Oh!" Robin jumps in her seat. "Uh... Fyrai?"

"Ah, so right next door. How is it?"

"...It's nice."

"Who do you live with? Your family, I presume?"

"...My dad."

"I see. What does he do?"

"He's... an appraiser...?"

Robin's pleading eyes dart to Sara in panic. The menu falls from Sara's hands as she sits up in her seat.

"Tsubasa, could you not hound my friend? You're going to make her uncomfortable."

"Oh, it was never my intention to make her uncomfortable." Tsubasa holds up her hands in front of her chest. "I was just trying to make friendly conversation. My apologies."

"Don't apologize, just drop it," Sara huffs. "Talk about something else. What've you been doing? Mom and Dad still giving you a million dumb errands to run?"

"...They aren't dumb, Sara. Our family needs to maintain good relations with our people and foreigners alike. It's also important we connect and give to our community. You should understand that."

Tsubasa deflates as Sara rolls her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak, but shuts it and hesitates.

An epiphany strikes Robin, and she finds herself wholly understanding why Sara dragged her along. If it wasn't for her presence, Sara would be knees deep in a lecture by now.

"Putting a pin in that for a moment..."

Tsubasa steadily folds her hands in her lap, her back pin-straight. Robin is suddenly hyper-aware of her own position, the way her posture leans slightly forward. She tries to straighten her back as sweat builds on the back of her neck— she doesn't want to embarrass Sara. It doesn't matter that Sara is laying back in her chair as if it were a bean bag— she doesn't want to embarrass Sara.

"I have been quite busy," Tsubasa continues. "A lot of charity work in Yusho, for the most part. And an exhibition... though that didn't go quite as planned."

"Isn't that the truth." Carolina snorts. Those are the first words she's spoken since her halfhearted introduction.

"Exhibition?" Sara quirks her head. "You mean that whole traveling exhibit thing mom was planning? With those little fancy baggies with the golden string?"

"They are not 'fancy baggies.'" Tsubasa's tone grows sharp. "They are charms. Irreplaceable charms, I might add, that have brought our family good fortune and prosperity for centuries. They are such important heirlooms of Yusho's royal family, and they were nearly lost."

"Those are just superstitions— wait. You nearly lost them? What, did you drop them on the way there?"

"Of course not. A pair of thieves took them."

Robin's heart drops to her stomach. Of all the topics to come up—

She's sitting across from an aristocrat and a police chief. This isn't going to be pleasant.

Sara peeks at Robin in the corner of her eye. Robin can see concern brewing.

"...Ah, oh well. You got the things back, right?" Sara speaks with speed, trying to nip the entire topic in the bud. "So, like, no biggie."

"Sara, they are not 'things.' They are charms. And they are very important to this family, so don't speak of them in such an impertinent manner." Tsubasa stares daggers, but Sara just looks to the side with an annoyed groan. She sighs, then carries on. "We did capture the thieves and retrieve the charms. But unfortunately—"

"They escaped," Carolina says. There's clear-cut, enduring anger echoing in her words. "I can't believe my men were irresponsible enough to allow it. Especially after all the trouble we went through to put them in their place."

Tsubasa nods. "Oh yes, they were such trouble. Quite an intriguing pair: a tall, blond boy and a short, one-eyed boy— the latter was a bit androgynous, though. And the blond was capable of magic if you could believe it. Light magic, it seemed. The odd thing was the more he used it, the more he would bleed. By the end of his struggle, he was vomiting blood."

Wait— that sounds like a mixed-blood. A half-blooded light mage. Could that have been—

Robin shakes the thought. It wouldn't make sense. Bari's not a blond.

"Still put up quite the fight," Tsubasa remarks. "Combatting him was essentially an endurance test— I had to keep upright until his own body took him down."

"Going after the short one wasn't exactly a cakewalk, either. Fast as hell, struggled like a wild animal— hell, he bit me!" Carolina turns towards Tsubasa to rant and wave her arms as if Sara and Robin weren't at the same table. "Damned thief literally bit me! And even after all of that, all the strife they caused us, they still had the nerve to escape. Crooks like them should just accept their fates and sit behind bars. It's where they belong."

Do you expect people to willingly walk into cells? What kind of logic is that?— Robin wants to say the words aloud, but she keeps her lips pressed tightly together.

"To think, those heartless criminals are still out there somewhere." Tsubasa's features scrunch up into a scowl. "If I ever see them again... I will make them pay. I will make them regret ever laying their grubby hands on my family's precious treasure."

"As will I," Carolina agrees. "I'll make them regret the day they've chosen to thrive off the hard work of others. Either they face justice, or they perish."

Robin doesn't even know who these thieves are. For all she knew, they could be actual blood-thirsty, remorseless bandits. But she still finds herself praying that they never run into Tsubasa or Carolina again.

"Geez. Sis, sis's friend." Sara laughs. It's strained and uncomfortable. "Don't you think that's a little much? You got the thin— the charms back. So what's the big deal? You're making it sound like you wanna kill em'."

"Sara, neither of us wish to kill anyone. But this is a matter of principle." Tsubasa remains straight in posture, her scowl clear and unyielding. "They've wronged the royal family. They've wronged me. They've wronged Carol. They need to pay the price."

"And really, it's up to them how they pay it," Carolina adds. "If they insist on trying to run from it, then they choose bloodshed. And if it must come to that, so be it. Two dead thieves are better than two thieves running rampant."

A sick, icky feeling forms deep in Robin's stomach. She feels the blood drain from her face, her hands going ice cold. Sara's warm fingertips graze her arm— Sara's wide, dark eyes bug out from her head.

"... My good deities. Carolina, when did you become so...?"

"Relentless?" Carolina shakes her head at Sara's question. "I am what I must be. My job is to keep people safe. To keep their well-being and livelihoods safe."

Yeah, because the well-being and livelihood of the royal family were totally in jeopardy— it's getting harder and harder for Robin to keep her mouth shut.

"And Carol isn't wrong. For a pair of such dastardly thieves to run rampant..." Tsubasa grits her teeth, as if the thought alone is too horrifically vile to bear.

"Oh, what do you know of thieves?"

The words, as cold and icy as Robin's piercing blue eyes, pop out of her mouth without hesitation. Tsubasa, Carolina, and Sara all jerk their heads toward her, jaws ajar and eyes aghast. It's as if they all forgot she was capable of speech.

She is very much capable of speech, and she's done acting like she isn't. Everything else falls back as a bitter taste rises up and overtakes her throat.

"Tell me, princess. Head of Andaweal's national guard." The words come out razor-sharp. She hopes they sting. "Have you ever been hungry? I mean, truly hungry? Have you ever gone days, weeks with your stomach aching, begging, preparing to throw logic into the wind and eat at itself out of sheer desperation? Have you ever lived off scraps? Searched dumpsters for something faintly edible? Have you ever looked through windows to see people sitting in places like this, laughing and eating, knowing they wouldn't spare you a bite to save their lives?"

The more she speaks, the angrier she grows. She grips the fabric of her dress with shaking fists.

"Have you ever been written off as nothing? Have you ever found yourself at the wrong end of society? Have you ever decided to become what's expected of you?" Robin laughs, though the sound is flat and mocking. "Have you ever had to make a choice? Have you ever had to choose between hunger, morality, and survival? You haven't, have you? Of course, you haven't."

Robin's seething, speaking through clenched teeth. But there's still a smile plastered on her face.

"Then tell me. What do you know of thieves?"

Tsubasa and Carolina gawk at her. Speechless. What can they say? For a moment, Robin finds pride in the fact she's rendered them silent.

Then, beneath the table, a hand grabs hers. She turns to meet Sara's face.

Sara's brows furrow and knit together. Her lips are set in a deep frown. Her eyes are large and beady— like that of a puppy. Or a child caught in crossfire.

The immediate wave of shame nearly knocks her off her chair. The image of Sara's face becomes blurry— is Robin tearing up? Why is she tearing up? She resists the urge to swat them away. That would make them obvious.

Her one goal tonight, the only thing she needed to accomplish, was to not embarrass Sara. And now she just—

"Robin and I need to use the bathroom!" Sara sprouts up from her seat, hand still tightly gripping Robin's. "Be right back!"

Sara pulls Robin from the table and towards the rear of the restaurant. Robin glances back to see Tsubasa and Carolina leaning close to each other, whispering.

* * *

"Oh my god, oh my god, Sara! I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay! It's okay! Don't be! I'm impressed you managed to keep your cool that long! Especially after the 'dead thieves are better than rampant thieves' comment. I would've lost it!"

The two stand in the middle of the restroom, Robin hunched over with her head in her hands and Sara holding Robin's shoulders while frantically uttering assurances. Robin can't look her in the eye, even as Sara fights to make eye contact. Her hands are still shaking.

She shouldn't have said anything. But how could she not say anything? According to those women, should she just drop dead right here and now? Would that be some sort of justice? Was her brother burning alive supposed to be some net positive to the world because "thieves are bad?"

The thought is infuriating. It makes her chest burn. But then she feels Sara's hands holding her shoulders and watches the worry contort her face.

Robin's supposed to be better than this. She's supposed to be strong. She should have restraint. She shouldn't feel tears pricking her eyes.

"It's not okay..." Robin murmurs. "I embarrassed you."

"You embarrassed me? Robin, I'm more embarrassed by them. Tsubasa's annoying and rigid as hell, Carolina's awkward to be around, but Tsubasa usually tries to act sweet and Carolina usually just... doesn't talk much. Usually, they don't say stuff like that. Guess two thieves getting away really set them off..."

"I hope they never find them. I hope Carolina never catches another criminal in her life!" Robin spits.

Then her cheeks turn pink. Tears run down her face as her shoulders drop.

"I didn't mean to snap just now. Sara, I'm— Sara, I didn't—"

"Hey, hey. I get it. I totally get it."

Sara throws herself onto Robin, wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace. Robin leans into it, letting her face fall into Sara's shoulder.

"I know your past, Robin. I know how much you love your family. I could never be mad at you for defending them, indirectly or not. So believe me when I say it's okay."

Sara pats Robin's back in a rhythm. Pat, pause. Pat, pause. Pat, pause.

"...Thank you," Robin says in a whisper. "For not judging me. Or my past."

"I'd never! There's nothing for me to judge— you've only done what you've had to. Honestly speaking, what Carolina said wouldn't have disgusted me so much if I'd never met you. Or saw those kids in that street." Sara recedes from the hug, but still grips Robin's shoulders. "But I have met you. I did see those kids. So... yeah, I'm grossed out. But probably nowhere near as grossed out as you are." She winces slightly as her eyes flit to the tile floor, then back to Robin. There's a nervous twitch at the corner of her mouth. "W-we should take a moment to calm down, then finish this thing. Bide our time, eat dinner, and forget this entire day happened. Does that sound like a plan?"

Robin meets Sara's eyes. And nods.

She takes solace in the fact that, after this dinner comes to an end, she'll never have to see either of these women ever again.

* * *

Robin is going to have to see those two women again.

It's been days since that soul-sucking dinner. It was the book's definition of a painful dining experience: awkward looks, plentiful water sipping, fork twirling and food toying, empty conversations on empty topics. By the end of the night, Robin was more than ready to leave it as a neglected footnote in her memory.

But then Tsubasa expressed her desire for Sara to show both her and Carolina around Wodic.

And then she explicitly extended an invitation for Robin to join them.

Robin didn't get it at all. She's in no way a professional at reading people or social situations, but she was so certain she left an awful impression.

But Tsubasa still extended that invitation— in that moment, even Carolina seemed caught off guard by it. Robin was put right on the spot as Tsubasa, Carolina, and Sara stared and waited for her answer. With a heart burdened by residual guilt and shame, Robin felt she had no other choice but to squeak out a soft "yes."

Not even a full day later, Robin came across Sara practically screaming into her phone. When Robin asked, Sara said that Tsubasa had explained her reason for inviting Robin: she wanted to make sure Robin wasn't a bad influence on Sara.

Things suddenly made sense. As angry and upset Sara was on Robin's behalf, Robin chose (or at least tried) not to take it personally.

Instead, she decided to focus on rectifying the mess her lack of self-restraint caused.

Tsubasa and Carolina are expecting to meet the pair in the town square within the next hour. Robin prepares for the venture in her dorm room. She throws on her second nicest dress— she would wear the plaid dress again, but she didn't want to make it appear like it was the only dress she owns— and straightens out the bow she always wears in her hair. She tries to smooth down and flatten her hair, but its natural fluffiness combats the effort with ease. She turns to face her mirror, then purses her lips as she stares at her reflection.

She ponders what she might look like in Tsubasa's and Carolina's eyes.

There's a hefty knock at the door shortly before it's pushed open. Sara pokes her head in with a wary smile on her face. Though she tries to present as upbeat, Robin can't miss the little creases at the corners of her mouth and just above her brow.

"Hey... it's almost time to go. You ready?"

Robin nods.

"Bet." Sara exhales as she rubs the back of her head. "...You know you don't have to do this, right?"

"I know." Robin turns to Sara with a kind smile. She hopes it hides her dread. "But I want to make up for how badly that dinner went. And I figured you could use the backup."

"... It's true. I still don't want to be stuck alone with Tsubasa and Carolina. But you don't have to make up for—"

"But I want to. And I'm not going to leave you hanging now, of all times."

"...Robin, you're too sweet—"

"Not really. I'm going to make you buy me a plushie while we're out." Robin winks.

Sara snorts. "Yeah, that's fair enough. Consider it a done deal."

* * *

"Alright! I've got a good feeling about this place! I think we might find her first try!"

Bari glances back at his friend with his usual enthusiastic grin. Flint looks off to the side as he incessantly rubs his arm and gnaws at the inside of his cheek.

Ky's list only contained three possible schools, and although Wodic's Lone Eyre Academy was at the very bottom, something in Bari's gut was drawn by it. Maybe there was a sense of familiarity with the name? He wasn't certain, but Lone Eyre Academy was the closest to Votno's border, making it the optimal first choice to check anyway.

And so the two thieves headed straight to Wodic, where they now stroll the streets like innocent passersby. Wodic is as busy and boisterous as any modern city, but the surrounding architecture creates a classic feel. Buildings are constructed of either marble or brick and only reach a height of three stories at most. Tiny trees and potted plants line the streets and buildings while ferns hang delicately from balconies. The air is filled with jumbled scents of flowers and fried goods, fighting for prominence.

Bari peeks over his shoulder once again, watching Flint walk with the posture of a hunchback. "Hey, perk up a bit! You've got too long of a face for someone due for a happy reunion!"

"Can't help it." Flint leans his cheek on top of Lulu, who sits happily perched on his shoulder. "Nervous."

"No need to be nervous," Bari says as he twists around and begins to walk backward. "She's going to be so happy to see you alive, I promise you."

"...I hope so. B-but what am I going to say to her? I don't know what to say—"

"Don't overthink it. When the moment of truth arrives, I'm sure the words will come to you."

Bari trots to Flint's side and twists back around. He pats Flint's back, making the boy's frame tense.

"Try not to get too worked up! Take some deep breaths. You get me?"

"Yeah," Flint mumbles. "I get you."

"Good! Now, about this city... I like it! Got a nice quaint feeling to it. Don't think I've ever come by here before. I think I'd remember it if I had since it gives me this nice comfy feeling—"

Bari sucks in another lung full of air, fully prepared to continue his rambles. But Flint's hands grab his arm with a sudden death-grip, stopping him mid-stride.

"Bari..."

Horror crosses Flint's expression. His lip trembles, his eye loses its focus. Bari follows his line of sight, leading him to face two pairs of gawking dark eyes. His heart— his entire chest shudders.

Bari and Flint are standing in the middle of the noisy, lively town square while staring at the eldest princess of Yusho and the head of Andaweal's national guard. The two women freeze still and stare back at them, their glares incredulous yet sharp.

"...Are you fucking kidding me?" Bari mutters beneath his breath. "What the hell are the odds?"

"Bari..." Flint whimpers again. His hands are beginning to twitch and shake. "What do we do...?"

Bari opens his mouth, but Tsubasa's gravelly voice cuts him off before a single word escapes.

"You... so this is where you fled. You heartless crooks."

Tsubasa's face contorts in anger, making her appear ready to lunge at them— but one good look at her tells Bari that she most likely won't. She's weaponless. If she were to lung at him, he'd be able to use magic to incapacitate her. However, magic is the only edge he has over her. Tsubasa has a strong build— a build that was clearly created and maintained through a warrior's training. She's lean, but not dainty; her sleeves do little to veil the muscles that line her arms. When it comes down to it, faulty magic or no faulty magic, Tsubasa will easily be able to overpower Bari's twig-like stature.

And Carolina— she's a problem. Though her attire is casual, she has what appears to be a utility belt around her waist and her spear strapped on her back. Is she acting as a guard for the princess? Or does she always carry that equipment just in case she runs into situations like this?

Regardless, this is a problem. A massive problem.

Even in a foreign country, far from where this debacle started, Carolina is well within her right to apprehend them both. She's of Andaweal, and if you're being pursued by the law enforcement of Andaweal, there is hardly anywhere for you to run. Andaweal has an arsenal of agreements across the globe— agreements that say if a criminal flees from Andaweal and into specific countries, they can be apprehended by Andaweal's police within that country's borders. Votno falls under that list.

And although Bari's and Flint's shared crime was against Yusho, they are still fair game by the terms of these international agreements. Yusho is often referred to as Andaweal's right hand and Andaweal as Yusho's left— two countries bound together by their low magic-using population in a magic-dominated world. If you are wanted in Yusho, you are wanted in Andaweal.

This is an incredibly massive problem.

Carolina retrieves her spear from her back and points it at the two thieves.

"You think yourselves clever, don't you? Well, I hope you've enjoyed your little outing because time's up. On my authority as an agent of Andaweal, I am placing you both under arrest. You will be returned to Yusho. And this time, you won't get away. I'll make sure of it. I'll oversee your voyage myself."

Heads immediately start turning. A crowd begins to form, curious and nosy gazes joining together.

"...Bari." Flint tears his hands from Bari's arm. "...This is why I told you we don't mess with royalty."

"Wha—?!" Bari blinks before his brow lowers. "Yes, you made sure to hammer that in the first time we dealt with these bitches!"

"Excuse me?!" Tsubasa shouts.

Bari doesn't even acknowledge her. "Why are you giving me crap about it now?!"

"Because we're about to get arrested by them! Again!" Flint retorts. "And I told you taking those stupid charms was a bad idea!"

"Yeah, I know that already! I know it was a bad idea! But what's done is done! What good does that information do us now?!"

"I don't know!"

The mask of anger melts from Flint's face. The shine of unbridled fear surfaces in his eye. He wraps his arms around himself in a desperate, fruitless attempt to stop his steadily increasing shaking.

Bari can't maintain his mask, either. He can't attempt to bicker back at Flint for the sake of banter. Panic begins to pull at his thoughts and his senses, seizing them under its control.

"Shut your mouths, thieves!" Carolina hisses. "Look, there are two ways this could go. You may come with me willingly, or you may resist. If you resist, when you're subdued, I can't guarantee you will still have your lives."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Bari raises his hands in the air defensively. "Hold on! You already got those charms back from us, right? Why bother with this when it's already over? You've got what you wanted!"

"You still stole my family's priceless valuables! And you were going to send it off into the black market for the sake of filthy money! You must pay for your actions! For the sake of justice!" Tsubasa counters.

"Um, remember when I was bleeding out right in front of you? Was that not enough for you?!"

"You still got away! So, no, it was not!"

"Besides," Carolina interjects, "we're not letting you crooks run amuck. So enough with your asinine arguments. Come willingly or by force. Choose."

"But—!"

Bari goes to spit a retort, but a hand abruptly clutches his wrist. He peers down to see Flint, who tries to maintain a composed countenance. The slight tremors of his features betray him, putting his fear at the forefront.

"They're not going to listen to reason." Flint's voice is low, yet it still wavers. "We have to run."

Bari says nothing. The hardened look in his eyes gives Flint his answer.

Bari and Flint swivel and bolt, leaving the two women behind in the dust kicked up by their boots. They push onlookers out of their path and run as fast as their legs will carry them, not looking back.

They don't look back, even as they hear their pursuers' speeding footsteps stomp behind them.

* * *

"And here I thought we were running late."

Sara puts her hands on her hips with a huff, her lips pursed in a pout. Robin's eyes scan over the town square one last time; she still can't spot Tsubasa or Carolina anywhere.

"That's it. Tsubasa's officially a hypocrite," Sara says in an exacerbated sigh. "I swear to all the deities, she's always lecturing me about how 'timeliness is proper etiquette' or that I have some 'duty to be punctual' as a princess. I'm so using this against her the next time she tries to lecture me about that. This makes for great ammo, doesn't it, Robin?"

Sara nudges Robin's side, but Robin doesn't respond. Instead, Robin remains silent and focused on a pair of women chatting on the sidewalk. She stares at them intently, though they're turned away and oblivious of her presence.

"... Robin?"

"Shh." Robin brings her finger up to her lip and gestures toward the two women. "Listen."

Sara closes her mouth and nods.

The two women possess fairly loud voices, allowing them to stand out from the indiscernible mass of idle chatter.

"That was so weird. Do you think those two were real thieves—?" one asks.

"Why else would those two women go after them? They were shouting about some stolen charms or something," answers the other.

"Yeah... I don't know. What was up with those women anyway? Who brings a spear out to town with them?"

"She said she was an agent of Andaweal. Maybe she was on patrol for those thieves?"

"What about that other lady?"

"I don't know. I think she said the charms were her family's? Either way, she was kind of hot though, not gonna lie—"

"Oh my god, could you not lust over every other stranger?"

"What? Hot is hot—"

Robin and Sara stop listening, turning to each other with concern.

"Bringing a spear with her into a crowded town square sounds very Carolina..." Sara says.

"So they went after thieves..." Robin looks to her Mary Janes. "Do you think they are the same thieves they mentioned at the dinner?"

"Kind of sounds like it. And if that's the case... those are some seriously unlucky dudes."

Sara tilts her head at Robin, whose hands grip her dress as she keeps her eyes on her feet. Robin chews her lip with her front teeth.

"...Perhaps I should go after them."

"...What?" Sara's eyes widen. "Robin, I know you feel for thieves, and I totally get it. But, like, getting involved in this? For all we know, those thieves they went after could be violent. And getting in between violent thieves and Tsubasa and Carolina—"

"I'm aware it's dangerous, but for all we know, the thieves could have had their reasons. But that doesn't matter to Tsubasa or Carolina. You heard what they said. They're willing to kill."

"Robin—"

"And if it were my family member out there, if it were someone I loved, the thought of them being killed..." Robin swallows as her fingers toy with her dress's fabric. "What if those thieves have someone waiting for them? They very well could. And the thought of those they love being left behind..."

Robin clenches the fabric of her dress with all her might. Her knuckles go white.

"I know what it's like to be left behind. I wouldn't wish that pain upon my worst enemy."

Sara stands speechless. She reaches for Robin's arm, but hesitates before their skin touch.

"I think the thieves deserve a chance to explain themselves before receiving a death sentence," Robin continues. "So I'm going after them. You don't have to come with me, but I—"

"Oh, no, I'm going with you."

Robin's mouth snaps shut. She stares at Sara, unblinking and utterly bewildered.

"What?" A playful smile embellishes Sara's face. "You've been my ride or die this whole time! It'd be messed up for me to bail on you when you could use a wing woman. Plus, I'm not letting you run into some risky mess all on your own. As stupidly... what's the word, reckless? As stupidly reckless as I think this probably is, I'm sticking by you."

"But you really don't have to—"

"But I want to. And you need the backup." Sara winks. "My decision's final. Princess's orders."

Sara wraps her arm around Robin's shoulders and pulls her close with a giggle. Bit by bit, Robin's lips curl up into a smile.

"Thank you, Sara."

* * *

Somewhere in the chase, Flint and Bari lost track of each other.

Flint is alone. Alone he runs for dear life through the labyrinth of streets and alleyways.

Carolina is close behind him, her spear drawn— Tsubasa and Carolina must have split up when the boys split up, not wanting either to escape. And of course Carolina would choose to go after Flint. His memory of their initial encounter is fuzzy, but he's pretty sure he bit her hand in his desperation and panic.

A voice echoes in the back of his skull, rattling his brain with acute, piercing pain.

"My, my, Flinty boy. Did you really just bite me?... I see, you're becoming more and more of a wild animal every day."

He tries to focus on the sound of his boots slamming against the pavement as he runs. He tries to focus on how the air slaps his face and lifts the cape of his cloak. He tries to focus on anything to drown out that cursed voice.

Focus, he has to focus. He can't get pulled into a memory. Not now.

When Flint finally believes he's gained enough distance between himself and Carolina, he takes an abrupt sharp turn into yet another back alleyway. His eye shifts side to side, searching for a hiding place— never has a large, green dumpster been such a pleasant sight to behold. He ducks behind it, sitting with his back against it as he throws his hands over his mouth. He tries to stifle his leaden breathing.

He needs to be dead quiet. If he's lucky, Carolina will think he kept running. She will continue running herself, and unknowingly leave Flint behind.

Then Flint won't have to go through everything all over again.

But it's not a guarantee. This could fail so easily.

Then Flint will have to go through everything all over again.

The last time Carolina caught him, he got lucky. Bari found a way out of their mess. Flint didn't have to go through everything all over again.

But if he's caught now...

Flint will have to go through everything all over again.

Sent to a foreign place, thrown into a little box that closes in on him, beaten and battered, hated and dismissed by all who look upon him—

A memory pulls at him. A memory tries to wretch him from reality.

Not now, he can't get lost in a memory now.

Not now.

He needs to focus.

The pulling needs to stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

* * *

"Stop!"

Flint was twelve years old. Two men in strange uniforms clasped his upper arms and his shoulders in firm grips; even as he kicked and kicked, or planted his feet to hold his ground, they dragged him forward. Instinctively, he kept trying to smack at them with his hands. But each time he went to swat at the men, he was forced to realize all over again that his arms were tied behind his back, bound together by a tight, coarse rope. It scratched at his skin, but the dull pain could hardly register when the vehement pounding in his chest drowned everything out.

"I'm sorry! Please! Let me go! Let me go!"

The men paid his screams no mind— though their scowls deepened as their eyes rolled in annoyance. They force him through the hotel's grand entrance and out into the cold, brisk outdoor air. Passersby— rich, high-class folk with glistening jewels on their necks and bellboys pushing carts stuffed with luggage— turned their heads and gaped. But as the child continued to resist, continued to kick and scream, their interest waned and they returned to their carefree days.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please! Please! Stop!"

One of the men, the younger of the two, wordlessly slapped the back of his head. It didn't stop his screaming and struggling— he couldn't stop. He knew what would happen if he didn't find a way out of this. He knew they were going to take him somewhere far away from here, somewhere he couldn't reach his family. He couldn't let it happen. It couldn't happen.

It couldn't.

They continued to lead him. He continued to fight. In the distance, he could see an incredibly long, incredibly white vehicle. It didn't resemble anything he's seen before— in any other circumstance, he'd be awed by it and wonder how many people could fit inside. More strangers in the same strange uniforms, alongside a man dressed in striking purple attire, stood by it.

"Alright, brat." The older of the two men spoke. "You've caused enough of a fuss. So here's what's about to happen. You're going to cut the shit, we're gonna put you in the back of that pullman, and you're going to lay still and be silent. Got it?"

Flint's eyes widened. His mind began to race. Thoughts zipped through his brain without a semblance of coherence.

They were going to put him in that long car? Since when did Zau even have motor vehicles? Isn't that country archaic? He didn't know. He's never been. Eugene scarcely mentioned he's been there, but he didn't seem keen on sharing details. It didn't matter. None of that mattered. They were going to put him in that car and take him away. They were going to take him to Zau, and he couldn't go to Zau. Not now. Not like this. Eugene, Bari, Robin, they'd never know what happened to him. They might think he abandoned them. He couldn't let this happen. It couldn't happen.

It couldn't.

There was no way in hell he was getting into that car.

"No!" Flint planted his feet onto the ground, holding firm. "No! I can't! I can't leave! I can't disappear! Please, just listen to me!"

The men yanked him forward, though Flint fought to hold his ground. He kicked at the younger man's shin in hopes of stunning him, but he was only rewarded with the older man's elbow slamming into his cheek. Adrenaline kept him moving past the shock and pain of the impact, though every kick and stomp he made did little but prolong the inevitable. The men's grips were still tight. They kept pulling and pulling—

Until the pulling stopped. Both men froze simultaneously. Flint paused— before he could even think to figure out what was happening, he was pushed down onto his knees. The two men dropped to their knees beside him, bobbing their heads and lowering their gazes to the ground.

The older man grabbed the back of Flint's head and shoved his face into the pavement. He held him down, even as Flint tried to resist the man's push and lift his head.

"Show the prince some respect, thief, " the older man snarled. Flint couldn't do a thing but grit his teeth in frustration.

"No, no. Let it sit up." An intruding voice chimed. It was a deep voice, yet it spoke in a sickly sweet, forcefully gentle tone that was nothing short of condescending. "I would like a word with it."

The pressure behind Flint's head vanished. He sat up and lifted his head to see a man fully dressed in purple— a purple vest over a purple button-up, purple trousers that end just below his knees, a purple hat with a white feather pinned to its side. His smile, nearly shielded by his scruffy red beard, looked painfully plastic.

The prince of Zau.

The man Flint attempted to steal from.

Did you seriously just call me an 'it?' Flint wanted more than anything to spit that question into the prince's face, but he bit his tongue. He wasn't about to make this nightmare even worse because of an impulse.

"...Well?" The prince narrowed his eyes into slits. "You asked my good men to 'just listen.' They are quiet. They are listening. I am listening. Whatever it is that you want to say, speak. The floor is yours."

Flint swallowed a massive lump forming in his throat. And nodded.

Anxiety clawed up from his stomach and into his chest and into his throat, threatening to silence his voice despite his screaming mind. If he screwed this up...

"Well?" The prince asked again.

"...I'm... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I tried to steal from you. I'm sorry for the trouble I caused. I mean it."

Flint sucked in a shaky breath. A shudder ran down his spine.

"I don't expect forgiveness... but please. Don't do this. I have family here. My dad... my little brother and... my baby sister."

Their sweet, smiling faces flashed across his mind. His heart swelled. Tears began to slip from the corners of his eyes.

"I can't leave them! They need me! A-and I need them! I-I'm sorry I stole from you b-but I wanted the money for their sakes! A-and I just wanted to make my dad happy after fighting with him!"

Tears streamed down his face. He choked back sobs.

"...So, please! Don't take me from them! T-they won't know what happened to me— I don't want them to think the worst! I can't just leave them, I can't!"

He bent forward and pressed his forehead against the pavement of his own volition. His voice trembled as badly as his heart.

"I beg of you! With everything that I am, I beg of you! Please, let me go— I don't care if you beat me to a bloody pulp first! If that's what will make you happy, do it! But please, let me go! Let me go home! Let me go back to my family!"

Flint kept his head down as he cried and heaved, waiting. Waiting as silence fell. Waiting as everything kept still. Waiting, waiting, waiting—

The prince scoffed. "You criminals are all the same, blubbering with a sob story and expecting sympathy. How unoriginal."

Flint raised his head to reveal an expression ridden with terror. The words he tried to speak were choked down by his continuous tears and his hitching, increasingly sporadic breath. Before he realized it, he felt light-headed. Things were becoming distant and unreal—

"Gag it," the prince said, turning away with a dismissive arm raised. "We have a long ride ahead of us, and I rather not spend it listening to its whining."

Harrowing reality crashed down on him as the older man hoisted him up to his feet and wrapped his arms around him to secure him still. Things— everything was closing in as he fought against the grip, as he struggled and screamed for a shred of mercy. The only answer he received was the sight of the younger guard pulling strands of cloth from his pocket.

Flint had fallen into a trap he couldn't climb out of...

And he's about to fall into that same trap all over again.

That day, he had lost everything. Everything he loved, his sense of self, his hope— it had burned away and crumbled into ashes.

And it's about to happen again! He's going to lose everything! All the things he's come to love again, the bit of self he's managed to recover again, the hope he's managed to catch sight of, his connections, his self-expression, the joy of freedom, the chance to see and experience different things, it'll all be ripped away. Mercilessly. Without care. Because who in their right mind would care about someone like him?

So, once again, he will lose everything.

He can't bear the thought.

He wants to keep having fun. He wants to keep seeking happiness. He wants to keep finding happiness in the little things. He wants to go to more fairs. He wants to draw more pictures. He wants to play with Lulu. He wants to pet Lulu so she curls up and purrs. He wants to make new friends. He wants to lay his head on a dog's stomach and nap. He wants to watch more dumb movies. He wants to hug more plushies. He wants to have more adventures with Bari. He wants to see things. Places. He wants to look in the mirror and smile. He wants to be okay.

Does he really deserve to have it ripped away? If someone like Risha could live freely, without any guilt to be found, why can't he?

Why does he have to keep reliving these moments that should be frozen in time?

He can still feel the hands grabbing him, the coarse rope rubbing against and burning his skin, the cloth being forced into and pressed against his mouth as he screams and screams...

* * *

When Carolina finds the one-eyed thief, he's curled up with his knees to his chest and his hands clutching his hair.

"Stop..." he murmurs. Tears run down his face. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... please. Stop. Eugene...help me... help me. Eugene, please... Eugene... help me..."

Carolina waves her hand in front of his face, his eye wide open. No response whatsoever. He's completely out of it.

Good. That makes her job much, much easier.

She grabs him, shoves him to the ground, and lays him on his stomach. Even as she grabs his wrists and pins his arms behind his back, he doesn't stir. There's only soft pleading and sobbing for someone who isn't here as she prepares to restrain him.

Something sharp clamps down her arm.

Her eyes dart down to see a kitten with its teeth sinking into her skin. The hair on its back stands and its tail is unusually bushy and full. A low growl rumbles from the back of its throat.

Right. The boy had a kitten on his shoulder.

She sighs. She doesn't want to hurt a kitten.

"Come on. Enough." She tugs at the kitten's small body. "Let go. I have an arrest to make."

The kitten continues to growl as Carolina tugs. It begins to scratch at her with its claws. Blood slips down her arm.

"You little— I said let go!"

Her hand clenches as she yanks the kitten with all her strength and throws it to the side. The kitten bounces off the wall with a high-pitched screech. Before it could even fully land, it darts toward the dumpster and slips its tiny body beneath it.

Carolina lets out a short huff before returning her focus to the task at hand.

She fastens plastic cuffs around the boy's wrists. His body jolts. He tries to move his arms only to feel the confines of the restraint. His single emerald eye peers up at her, focused and alert— but panicked.

A panicked, emerald green eye...

Carolina averts her gaze. "You're lucid."

"...Yes." The boy's trembling— Carolina can feel it beneath her grip. "Please, listen—"

"Great, that means you could walk."

She stands up and lifts him by his arms. He struggles to find his footing as Carolina maintains her hold. When he finally manages to stand, Carolina pushes him forward; he stumbles and nearly falls onto his knees.

"Move. I need to hand you over to the guards here." Carolina's voice is low and commanding. "They should be able to watch you as I deal with your friend."

She grabs a hold of his arm and attempts to guide him forward, but he stands stiff. His trembling has become violent.

He mutters methodically under his breath. "...Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus, focus, focus—"

"Are you deaf? Stop your blubbering and move."

Carolina shoves him forward again. This time, he hesitantly marches forward step after step. Carolina reclaims her hold on his arm and leads him, and for a long moment, there's perfect silence in the alleyway.

The silence is broken by shaky words, anxiety laced in each syllable.

"...Where's Lulu?"

Carolina doesn't even bother to suppress her groan. She hates talking to criminals.

"What?"

"My cat. Where is she?"

"... I scared her. She ran off."

"...Ran off?" The boy looks back at her, making Carolina reflexively look to the wall. "Where? She's... she's still a baby we can't just leave her all alone—!"

"Shut your mouth, face forward, and keep it moving," Carolina snarls.

"...No."

The boy doesn't sound the least bit confident or certain, but he still finds the resolve to stop in his track and glare back at Carolina. Even as anger begins to scrunch up her face and narrow her eyes, Carolina still can't meet his gaze.

Instead, she stares at his arm as her grasp on him tightens. In the corner of her vision, she can see the boy wince.

"Why do you insist on being an absolute pain?" she asks through clenched teeth.

"Apparently it's the thing I'm best at. But... really, I just don't want to be hurt."

The boy's tone is soft like a whimper. It holds a reflective, remorseful sound.

"Look... it's taking everything in me not to freak out right now. Everything in my body is telling me to start kicking and screaming—"

Carolina clicks her tongue. "That won't help you. It'll only make me more annoyed with you."

"Believe me, I know. I know, but it's really fucking hard to stay calm with my hands tied and you preparing to throw me into some tiny cell. But I'm managing. Could..."

He hesitates. A deep breath in and out does little to ease his continuous trembling.

"Could you at least hear me out in return?"

"In return for what? Cooperating as you should?"

The boy presses his lips together without an answer.

"Yeah," Carolina snorts. "That's what I thought—"

"I want to ask you for mercy, miss."

Miss...

Carolina's stomach flips and churns, though she can't decipher why. Did she eat something unusual today...?

"I-I know that being a thief is wrong morally... that's not something I'd ever even try to deny," the boy continues. He tries to raise his voice, but his shaky demeanor renders the effort useless. "But what good does sending me to prison do? Make me suffer? I never took anything from anybody who couldn't spare it. I've only done what I've been raised to do, what I had to do to survive. Do I really deserve to suffer for that?"

"Oh, I am not in the mood for your excuses." Carolina shoves the boy once again, but he stands firm. "Get moving already, thief. You're testing the last of my patience."

"I don't like being a thief. It's not something I even want in life, but I'm telling you, I never had a choice." The boy speaks faster in his desperation, spitting out word after word. "So please, don't punish me for that. Not like this. I've already lived through hell, I can't do it again. I'm tired of being beaten. I'm tired of bleeding—"

"Christ, thief, I told you to move!"

Carolina pushes the boy without restraint, forcing him to stumble onward to regain balance. He tries to turn toward her, but she grabs both of his arms and keeps him forward-facing.

"You are a criminal. And I'm going to put you where you belong, where you will pay for leeching off of others. End of story. So get walking and shut your mouth before I make you!"

Carolina shoves the boy one last time. He walks, his head hung low and his shoulders hunched. Carolina sighs with relief. Matters with this thief should be rather simple from here—

He begins to laugh. It's low, just beneath his breath, and hollow. There's no joy. It's utterly mirthless, but it's a laugh nonetheless.

Carolina's muscles tense up.

"So this is just it, isn't it? This is just what my life is." The meekness that had dominated the boy's composure begins to melt away. There's building force behind his voice. "My life means nothing, right? I mean nothing, right? That's just how it is, right?"

Though he continues to walk forward, he looks back at Carolina with an unsteady grin. It twitches and trembles, but it remains stretched across his face.

"Who cares? I was born in the wrong circumstances, so it doesn't matter what happens to me, right? So it's okay if I'm treated like less than human, less than an animal, right? I had to take some shiny things from rich people, so it's completely fine if I'm used as a tool for people to enact their sadistic desires on! I could be nothing more than an outlet for anger I've had nothing to do with! Right!? That's all fine by you, right!?"

The meekness has completely bled out from his voice. It has bled out from his face, too. His face is red, his brow is low and his nose is crinkled, his teeth are bared behind his pained smile. The green of his eye is piercing, his pupil is dilated. His eye bores into Carolina, demanding an answer.

Carolina's speechless.

The boy slams his boot onto Carolina's foot, startling her. On instinct, she bends forward and reaches for her foot. The boy takes the opportunity to throw his head back, slamming the back of his skull directly into Carolina's face. She staggers backward and falls on her rear.

"You...!" She reaches for her nose. She touches something damp— blood's dripping from her nostril.

The boy steps back before turning to face her.

"I care!" he screams at the tip of his lungs. Tears slip from the corner of his eye. "If no one else, I care! My life is worth something to me, and that means I have as much of a right to be happy as anyone else! So I'll keep fighting, I'll keep running, and I'll keep being a pain in everyone's asses! I won't let you drag me to some new hell hole!"

The boy charges forward, dashing past Carolina with all the strength in his legs. Without conscious thought, without mulling over the boy's words, Carolina picks herself up and bolts after him.

Carolina hates how fast the boy is. On top of that, his stamina's downright incredible. As they engage in another long chase, Carolina's legs begin to cramp up. She's losing her breath. She ignores the building discomfort, sprinting at her top speed and keeping close behind the fleeing thief.

She begins to wonder if this chase is going to go on forever.

But she winds up getting lucky just as that thought crosses her mind. The boy's hands are still cuffed behind his back, which messes with his coordination. He begins to swerve toward his left drastically. He accidentally crashes into the alleyway wall, and before he could reaffirm a grasp on his surroundings and continue running, Carolina has caught up with him.

She grabs him by the roots of his hair and slams the side of his head against the wall.

His body goes limp and falls into her hold. She lays him down on the pavement, crouches beside him, and checks the side of his head for any blood. Seems he got lucky— she didn't bash his head hard enough to draw blood, but it was just enough to knock him unconscious.

She shuffles towards his feet, grabs his ankles, and presses them together— if he wakes up, she is sure as hell not chasing after him a third, or technically fourth, or maybe even technically fifth time. She holds his ankles together with one hand as her other reaches for her belt to grab another set of plastic cuffs.

As she fastens the cuffs around his ankles, an odd detail in the corner of her eye catches her attention. When she first ran into the thief, the bottom of his shirt was tucked into his pants. It must have come undone during their chase, as the end of the long shirt now lays scrunched up and curled in on itself. The shirt's awkward position (no doubt caused by Carolina holding him by the front of his shirt as she laid him down) reveals half of his stomach, and Carolina notices what appears to be odd markings on his skin. Curiosity gets the best of her; once the cuffs are secure, she reaches for his shirt and pulls it up to unveil—

Carolina yanks the shirt back down immediately. Her stomach performs somersaults; she throws her hand over her mouth as the taste of acid emerges from her throat.

What the fuck was that?

The image of what she has just seen lingers in her mind, cementing itself in her memory. She's never seen anything like it: deep, dark burn scars stretched across his stomach that formed letters. Branding. Spelling out the word—

Carolina feels dizzy.

Who the fuck would do that to someone?

Carolina glances at the boy. He looks almost peaceful in his sleep, ignoring the dried tears that stained his face. And the scars. And the eyepatch—

Who are you?

What the fuck happened to you?

Carolina doesn't know what's come over her. Or why her mind is suddenly clogged up and she can't think clearly. The boy's just a thief. She shouldn't feel pity for him. She shouldn't feel sick to her stomach.

Deep inside, she wondered if anyone deserved the pain that—

She pushes everything back— the pity, the horror, everything. Her nausea slowly subsides. She only allows herself one train of thought: this doesn't change anything. She still has a job to do.

She tucks the boy's shirt back into his waistband before hoisting him up onto her shoulder.

* * *

Robin and Sara roam aimlessly, searching for any signs of wanted thieves or revenge-thirsty women.

Instead, they find a cat.

It's wandering through the back alleyways, scanning the area with its large blue eyes. It's meowing nonstop, as if calling out for someone.

Sara gasps.

"Oh goodness! Look! Kitty kitty kitty!"

She crouches down and reaches for the small, white kitten. It responds by leaping back, opening its jaw, and hissing.

"Ah..." Sara pulls her hands back with a deep frown. "It doesn't like me."

"I think you just startled it." Robin kneels beside Sara and gently extends her hand out toward the kitten. "Pspspsps. Come here, little one. I won't bite."

The kitten stares at Robin as its slim pupils widen. Its whiskers twitch as it slowly approaches her and sniffs her fingertips.

Once satisfied, the kitten looks up at her and meows loudly.

"Awe," Robin beams. "You're adorable."

"I don't think so. It hissed at me." Sara crosses her arm with an exaggerated pout. "How come you get to be liked by the random street kitten?"

Robin shrugs with a giggle before cautiously scritching the kitten's head with her finger. "Poor thing must be lost."

"Are you sure it's not a stray?"

"It looks too clean and plump to be a stray. We'll have to look for its owner."

"Woah there. One thing at a time. We still have thieves to find—"

The cat suddenly jerks its head and starts growling. Its ears flatten to its head as it looks past both Robin and Sara.

The pair hear footsteps behind them, belonging to a heavy gait. A familiar voice calls out to them.

"...Sara?"

Robin and Sara are on their feet in seconds. Carolina approaches them with an unconscious boy slung over her shoulder, his hands and feet bound. Carolina's complexion is oddly gray, and her eyes are uncharacteristically downcast. A bloodied tissue sticks out of one side of her nose.

"What the—?!" Sara blinks rapidly. "Who's that?!"

"One of the thieves who stole your family's charms," Carolina answers. "We ran into them while we were waiting for you in the town square. He was very uncooperative, so I had to knock him out."

"Oh... um, where's Tsubasa then?"

"She went after the other thief. I'm going to drop this one off so I could help her."

"...Where?" Robin asks.

Carolina gives Robin a stare brimming with suspicion. "Likely the local station so they could keep an eye on him. Why?"

"...Perhaps you should leave him here with us, instead," Robin says.

Carolina looks Robin up and down as her brows knit together. "Why would I want to do that? Especially considering you actively sympathize with thieves."

"...You said dead thieves were better than loose thieves." Robin's eyes narrow. "Thieves are people too."

"Again, especially considering you actively sympathize with thieves."

"I sympathize with them, yes. But I also know a cornered thief is dangerous. I don't want Sara's sister to be in danger. I think you should go find and aid her as quickly as possible rather than waste time bringing that thief to the station."

"B-besides! I'm here!" Sara interjects. "If you can't trust Robin— which you should she's great— then trust me! I'll watch 'em so you could rush to Tsubasa and save the day."

"...You know your sister would murder me if I left him with you and something happened, right?" Carolina asks.

"Please, he's unconscious. And tied up, pretty much! What's he gonna do? Wiggle like a worm at me aggressively?" Sara shakes her head. "C'mon, Carolina. Drop him here and help my sister. Time is of the essence!"

"I— actually. You know what? Alright. I'm too exhausted to argue."

Robin and Sara exchange shocked glances as Carolina lowers the captured thief onto the ground. The woman retrieves a notepad and pen from her belt and jots down a series of numbers.

"If anyone comes around asking questions, give them my number." Carolina tears a page from her notepad and hands the paper to Sara. "You should also call this number if something happens."

"...Wow," Sara says, stunned. "Uh, I mean, yes! Gotcha! Don't worry, we got this. Now hurry! Tsubasa might need a hand!"

Without another word, Carolina takes off and disappears from sight. Once they can no longer hear her pounding footsteps, Sara turns to Robin with sheer awe morphing her features.

"...I cannot believe that worked," Robin says.

"You can say that again!" Sara exclaims as she ruffles up her spiky bangs with her hand. "...Well, seems like he managed to avoid a death sentence. But I'm assuming you'd still like to give him a chance to explain himself."

"...Yes." Robin watches as the kitten races to the boy's side, batting at his cheek as if attempting to wake him. "I would."

Robin kneels beside the boy, observing his face. His features are relaxed in sleep, though she notices stains on his left cheek left behind by tears. She gingerly reaches out and rests her hand on his cheek, tracing one of his many scars with her thumb. The boy whimpers at the touch, his face contorting into a wince.

Robin can't help but note just how many scars adorn the boy's face.

"...It looks like he's been through a lot."

"It does. I mean, he is missing an eye." Sara bends down next to Robin. Her head tilts to the side as she leans toward the boy, trying to get a better look. "You know, he kind of looks a lot like you, Robin."

"He does...?"

It hadn't crossed her mind, but Sara's absolutely right. The boy has the same olive skin, the same thick, poofy, wild chestnut hair, even their heights are remarkably similar. He looks like he could be her twin...

How odd...

"Yeah, what are the odds of that?" Sara laughs nervously before actively changing the subject. "Uh... should we try to wake him up?"

"...I think I'm going to cut off his restraints, first."

"...Are you sure that's a good idea? What if he, like, attacks us or— ROBIN WHAT THE HECK?!"

Robin stares at Sara blankly as she holds the pocket knife she retrieved from her satchel. "What?"

"Why do you have a knife?!"

"This?" Robin's eyes flit to the pocket knife, then back to Sara. "I carry it everywhere."

"You what?! Why?!"

"You never know when you'll need to defend yourself."

Robin nonchalantly cuts at the plastic cuffs on the boy's wrists as Sara continues to eyeball her with her jaw dropped.

"And something tells me he won't attack us. Not when we're helping him. Besides, even if his explanation's horrible and he had no real reason to steal anything, I don't think I'd be able to hand him back to Carolina. He looks like he's been through so much already..."

Sara's mouth slowly shuts as she observes the boy's face twitching. "Yeah... I can understand that. He looks pretty harmless, to boot."

As Robin finishes cutting the handcuffs and tosses them to the side, Sara pokes the boy's cheek.

His eye flies open. It goes wide as his pupil dilates.

"...A-away." The boy's body jerks to life. "Away! Away! Get away from me!"

He tries to push himself up, only to topple over. His eye darts to his ankles to find they are bound together. Panic overwhelms his expression.

"Hey, hey, wait!" Sara reaches for his shoulder. "We're not—"

The boy throws his arms in front of his face defensively. "AWAY! I SAID AWAY!"

"Sara!" Robin calls— she's already several feet away, pocket knife still in hand. "Back away from him!"

Sara hesitantly obliges, standing up and walking backward until she's standing side by side with Robin.

The boy sits up, head turning back and forth as he tries to register his surroundings. He jumps when the kitten butts its head against his side, but the moment he looks down and sees it, his shoulders ease as relief overtakes him. He lifts the cat into his arms as it nuzzles into his chest with a trill.

Robin speaks up, though she keeps her voice deliberately soft and non-threatening. "...Is that your cat?"

The boy shudders as he lifts his head. He doesn't meet Robin's eyes. Instead, his focus zeros in on the pocket knife she holds in her hand.

There's pure terror in his eye.

"...Oh! This!" Robin folds the blade back and closes the knife. The boy seems to relax slightly, but his eye is still wide and focused on the weapon. "I only used this to cut your hands free. See?"

Robin points to the plastic cuffs discarded on the ground. The boy looks to the cuffs, then to his hands that cradle the kitten. He blinks several times, processing everything.

"I still need to cut the ties around your legs," she continues. "...Or would you rather do it yourself?"

Robin can feel the incredulous, shaken stare that Sara is giving her. But she pays it little mind— she trusts her instincts. The boy has more reason to fear them than they have to fear him, weapon or no weapon.

The boy studies the shut pocket knife, then returns his gaze to his ankles. Something haunted crosses his expression. "...You won't hurt me, will you?"

"...No," Robin answers. "Of course not."

"...Then you could cut it off."

The boy shyly turns his head away as he lowers the kitten back to the ground— Robin's brow shoots up. She hadn't expected him to refuse the knife, much less let her approach him with the knife in hand. But as she toward walks him, he doesn't recoil. He does flinch, however, when she whips out the blade with a quick flick of her wrist.

As soon as Robin cuts the boy's ankles free, he tucks his knees to his chest. His head is still turned away. "...Thank you."

"You're welcome." Robin smiles as she folds the knife and slips it back into her satchel. "Are you alright? Hurt anywhere?"

The boy doesn't answer. He only wraps his arms around his knees and pulls them closer.

Robin sighs— she's still standing on shaky ground when it comes to her social skills, but she imagines even the most well-trained social expert would find difficulty in this situation.

"Wait... oh my god. Oh my god."

The boy suddenly stands with urgency. He turns to run, but Robin grabs his sleeve.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"M-my friend! I have to go find my friend—!"

The boy finally meets her eyes, and everything stops.

The world goes into slow motion.

The boy gawks at her in awe, his emerald green eye shimmering in indescribable emotion. Robin can't help but fixate on the dark circle beneath his eye, the dark and light scars that litter his face. By all means, his face looks like that of someone who's been to hell and back. It looks like the face of a stranger. It looks like a face that shouldn't have a name to label it.

But this face...

This familiar face...

The boy's lips tremble. That shimmering eye begins to drip tears.

"...Robin?"

This doesn't make sense. This doesn't make sense at all.

The boy throws his arms around her and hugs her tight. His legs give out, sending them both to their knees. Robin doesn't move. Her arms don't leave her sides.

She thinks Sara's calling out to her, but the only sound she can decipher is the boy's sobs.

"...Robin. It's really you." His voice cracks and quakes. "You've... you've grown so much...!"

Robin can't make sense of any of this.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never meant to leave you..."

The boy's grip grows stronger by the moment. Robin feels tears run down her face.

She doesn't know why she's crying. She doesn't even know what's happening. This boy... with a face so similar to her own...

This boy... scarred and frightened...

This boy... with one green eye that shines like an emerald...

"Robin... Robin... Robin..." He lays his forehead on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry... Robin... my baby sister..."

It all clicks at once.

"...Fl... Flint?"

She's dreaming. This is a dream. She has to be dreaming.

The boy— her brother— nods weakly before burying his face further into her shoulder.

Pang after pang strikes her heart. All sorts of emotions flood into her mind, each indiscernible from the rest, but equally potent. She can't put a name to what she's feeling; she can only note how it tightens her chest and burns her throat.

As her tears move to choke her, she does the only thing she can do. Her shaky arms clutch her brother with all the strength she could muster...

And she screams.