"Thank you…"
The small voice sounded almost like the whisper of a leaf falling to the ground. One of the Kitsune children lowered her head, her tiny hands clutching the wooden bowl as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
Ren simply offered a warm smile. "You're welcome," he replied softly, using a gentler tone than he usually did.
It was a simple phrase. But in a world that often silenced children before they even had the chance to learn how to speak, that quiet voice filled with gratitude had the power to warm the heart like a campfire on a stormy night. For a moment, the wounds in Ren's chest felt just a little bit lighter.
---
But on the other side of the city, inside a marble building adorned with crystal lamps and blood-red drapes cascading from the ceiling, luxury and cruelty mingled in the air. Beneath a chamber shaped like a small arena, filled with plush seats and wine tables, Trek sat with legs crossed, watching his favorite kind of performance.
