The sky was a soft, endless blue, the kind that made the white edges of the clouds look like they were cut from paper. The streets glowed gently under the late-morning sun, and Kiana hummed a light, meandering tune as her boots tapped along the cobblestone. The air nipped at her cheeks — winter was creeping in — but it was the nice kind of cold, the sort that kept you lively rather than sluggish.
In her arms she cradled a small bundle of warm bread and cheese, bought from a stall just a few streets back. The smell was heavenly, and she was already imagining the look on Kallen's face when she unwrapped it later.
"Meeting at noon!" Kallen had told her with that bright, irresistible grin.
Kiana decided she'd make the most of her walk there. She stopped to greet a cluster of kids chasing each other with sticks for swords, laughing when one boy declared himself the "Lord of Winter" and demanded her surrender. She raised her hands dramatically, "Mercy, your highness!" before being released on the condition she bring snacks next time.
The stalls bustled with people bundled in scarves and shawls, and the vendors called out their wares in voices warm with cheer. Kiana's steps slowed when she saw a group of teenage girls huddled around a fabric shop window. They glanced her way, eyes lighting up.
"Your hair's so pretty," one of them said shyly.
Kiana grinned. "Yours too! All of you look amazing today."
The girls giggled and nudged each other, and Kiana leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't tell anyone, but I'm pretty sure you're the most beautiful ones here."
The giggles turned to soft laughter, cheeks turning pink. Kiana waved goodbye and continued on, the rhythm of the street wrapping around her like a melody.
She passed an old man tending to a cart of roasted chestnuts, the smell making her stomach growl. She considered buying a few, but the thought of Kallen's smile made her clutch her little bundle tighter — this food was theirs.
The air shifted suddenly.
There was a rush of movement behind her, a blur at the edge of her vision — then the tug of cloth and weight leaving her arms. Kiana barely had time to register what had happened before a young man darted past her, weaving through the crowd like smoke.
"Hey!" she shouted, her voice cracking with shock. Her arms were empty. The bread, the cheese — gone.
The thief didn't look back, legs pumping fast, hair messy and clothes torn at the edges. His hand gripped the stolen bundle tight against his chest as he slipped between startled townsfolk.
Kiana froze for only a second before her instincts kicked in. She bolted after him, dodging between people, her boots slapping hard against the stone.
"Stop! Thief!" someone yelled from a fruit stall.
But the man kept running. He was fast — too fast. Kiana pushed harder, ignoring the sting in her lungs. The streets seemed narrower now, every turn a gamble between losing sight of him and cutting him off. Her mind raced between frustration and disbelief. Of all the things… the food for Kallen? Really?!
He turned sharply down an alley, and Kiana skidded after him, her shoulder brushing against cold stone. For a brief moment, she was close enough to see the tension in his shoulders, the desperation in the way he moved.
It wasn't until they hit a dead end that he finally spun around, chest heaving. His eyes were wide, not with malice, but something else — something raw.
"Give it back!" Kiana panted, pointing at the bundle.
The man shook his head violently, clutching it tighter. "I need it!" His voice cracked, half a snarl, half a plea. "My sister hasn't eaten in two days—"
Kiana blinked, her heart still racing. The winter wind cut through the alley, sharp and cold. The tension between them hung in the air, fragile and dangerous. She stood there, her breath still uneven from the chase, when the sound of boots clattering against stone came from the street behind her. Two guards in crisp uniforms rounded the corner, their hands already resting on their batons.
They took in the scene in a single glance — the ragged man clutching the bundle, Kiana's defensive stance.
"Don't worry, Miss," one of them said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We got it from here."
Before Kiana could say anything, they closed in on the thief with mechanical precision. The man's eyes widened, and he stumbled back until his shoulders hit the wall.
"No, please—" he began, but one guard caught his arm, twisting it behind his back in a practiced motion. The other pried the bundle from his hands, almost carelessly, and handed it to Kiana.
"Your belongings, Miss," the second guard said, as if this settled everything.
Kiana clutched the warm bundle reflexively but blurted, "Wait, it's alright, really! He just—"
The first guard shook his head, already dragging the man toward the street. "All crimes must be punished, Miss. That's the law."
The thief struggled, his voice breaking with urgency. "I only took it for my sister! She hasn't eaten in two days! Please, I'll work for it, I'll—"
"Enough," the guard snapped, tightening his grip. "Your excuses are not our concern."
Kiana took a step forward, her chest tightening. "You can't just—! I said it's fine, I don't care about the—"
The second guard raised a hand, not rudely, but with that same cold authority. "Miss, with respect, this is how order is kept. We cannot make exceptions."
Her words caught in her throat.
The thief's cries echoed down the street as the guards hauled him away, his feet scraping against the stone. Kiana's pulse pounded in her ears, and she turned instinctively toward the nearest onlookers, expecting to see… something. Concern. Disapproval. Anything.
But there was nothing.
The few townsfolk who had noticed the commotion simply kept walking. Some gave the scene a cursory glance before resuming their errands. Others didn't even turn their heads. It was as if this sort of thing happened every day — so normal it wasn't worth noticing.
Kiana's hands trembled slightly around the bundle. The smell of bread and cheese no longer seemed so warm.
She wanted to run after the guards, to make them stop, to demand they listen — but her legs felt rooted to the spot. Would they even listen?
A cold knot formed in her stomach, heavier than the winter air. She swallowed hard, trying to shake the image of the man's face — the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd shouted about his sister like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.
Slowly, she lowered her gaze to the bundle in her arms. It was still warm, the same food she'd chased a stranger for.
"…he did it for family," she muttered under her breath, the words tasting bitter as they left her mouth.