The city's noise faded as Lira led them through a maze of twisting backstreets. The bustle of the market gave way to quieter alleys, where the sunlight barely reached and the air felt cooler, tinged with the scent of damp stone and something faintly metallic. Adia walked close to Izuma, glancing over her shoulder every so often, while Lira kept a brisk pace ahead, her eyes sharp.
Finally, Lira ducked into a narrow passage between two shuttered shops. The alley was empty except for a few stacked crates and a battered barrel. Here, the world felt smaller—safer, maybe, but also more real. Izuma's heart still beat fast behind his mask, but at least the fear wasn't so public now.
Lira leaned against the wall, arms crossed, posture tense.
"Alright. Now that we're not in the open, let's try this again. Who are you, really? And don't just give me a name."
Izuma kept his voice steady.
"I'm Izuma.." He hesitated then continued, "Just Izuma. From the east. I-Im from k-Kiyosi–Kiyosuna a small place. Not found on most maps sadly."
Lira's eyes narrowed.
"Kiyosuna? What's it near? Who rules it? What's the trade there?"
He hesitated, but managed a calm,
"Uh… it's near the borderlands. Nobody important rules it. We mostly trade in river fish. And reeds."
Lira stared at him, her expression unreadable.
"You're a terrible liar, you know that?"
Izuma's jaw tensed, but he forced a shrug, accepting it.
"Maybe. But it's the best I've got."
Adia stepped forward, her voice gentle but serious.
"Are you running from something?"
He shifted, hands tightening at his sides, his gaze tilting left.
"Yes, But Aren't We All?"
The words came out clipped, but he kept his face hidden behind the mask.
"I'm running from… a lot. I just want to survive."
Lira pressed, her tone growing sharper.
"You're not telling us everything. Why? Are you in trouble with someone dangerous? Are you hiding something that could get us hurt?"
Izuma's breathing grew shallow.
"I'm not trying to get anyone hurt. I just… I need to figure things out. I need space." The mask suddenly felt suffocating. "I didn't ask for any of this."
Adia's eyes softened.
"It's okay to be scared. You don't have to act tough."
He let out a shaky breath, voice thinning.
"I'm not acting tough. I'm just… tired. I lost everything. I don't even know who I am anymore."
Lira's expression softened, but only a little.
"You don't have to trust us. But if you want to survive here, you need to be careful. You're not the only one with secrets. But don't expect me to believe everything you say."
Izuma nodded, but his throat felt tight. He stared at the ground, fighting the sting in his eyes.
"I'm not asking you to believe me. I just want to get through the day. I want to eat, to breathe, to not have to look over my shoulder every second. Is that too much?"
Lira glanced at Adia, then back at Izuma.
"Alright. One more question. Why did you come here? Why risk it, if you knew what could happen?"
He tried to answer, but the words struck the 17 yr old's core like a bullet. The pressure inside him, all the fear and confusion and loss, finally snapped. He slammed his fist against the wall, the sound echoing in the alley.
There was pure silence for about a second...Then he shouted,
"Because I had to!"
His voice broke, and suddenly he was shaking. The mask hid most of his face, but tears spilled out anyway, dripping down his chin and onto the collar of his shirt. He pressed his back to the wall, hands gripping his head, breath coming in ragged gasps.
"I can't do this," he whispered, voice cracking, barely audible.
"I can't… I can't keep pretending. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know who I am at this point. I just want it to stop—just for a second. I just want to go home. I just want—"
....His words dissolved into a choked sob.
"To Live..." He whispered, voice weakening.
Adia took a hesitant step forward, her hand half-raised, but she didn't touch him, she froze mid–movement unable to take the next step. Lira's bravado faded, her mouth a thin, uncertain line.
Izuma slid down the wall, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around his head. The mask—so cool, so strong—was streaked with silent tears that kept slipping from beneath, falling onto his hands, the ground, the battered cobblestones. He didn't care if they saw. He couldn't stop.
The alley was silent except for his ragged breaths and the distant city noise. For a long moment, no one spoke. Adia and Lira just stood there, helpless, watching the tears drip from under the mask.
No one offered comfort. No one had the right words. The only sound was the quiet, broken weeping of a boy who had lost his world.
And when the tears finally slowed, Izuma didn't look up. He just stayed there, silent, the pain still raw and unresolved, as the city's shadows pressed in around them....