A boy moved ahead of the smoke, stepping lightly where glass glittered and metal groaned underfoot.
His limbs were long for his age, all angles and tension, "clothes" hanging loose on a body that had never quite filled them.
Every few steps he brushed black hair out of his eyes—hair that refused to stay down, sticking up in wild spikes no matter how much grime weighed it.
Behind him, smaller footsteps scraped and stumbled.
"Mael! Look at this!"
A younger boy popped up from behind a heap of torn fabric, grinning, holding a cracked toy car like it was treasure. His shoes didn't match—one too big, one barely holding together—and he didn't seem to care. Dirt smeared his face, but his eyes were bright, restless.
Mael glanced, brows furrowed. "Put that down, Gah. We're not here for toys."
Gah scoffed and kicked at a pile of trash, sending bottle caps skittering. "You always say that..."
"Because toys don't keep you alive." Mael said without looking back, scanning the ground, eyes flicking over shadows and scraps, searching for something edible. Anything.
Gah ducked again, diving into the piles of trash, reappearing with a shoe this time—frayed, cracked, barely a shoe at all. "What about this? It's still good! Look!"
"It's trash, we need food. Food." Mael said without even looking at the shoe, "Go back if you are gonna be useless."
"Why do you always get to decide?" the younger brother shot back, clutching the shoe to his chest. "I want cool shoes and toys!"
The older boy almost growled, turned around and got up close to his younger brother, his face looked older than it should have—cheekbones too sharp, eyes too watchful.
"You think I like this?" he said. "You think I enjoy it? I already told you we have to do this, you brat!"
The younger boy laughed, half-nervous, half-mocking. "You sound like dad, Stop acting like—"
Mael shoved him.
"Hey!" Gah shoved back, stumbling, anger flashing across his face.
"I don't sound like dad!"
Hands grabbed, slapped away, toy and shoes used as weapon, words piled over each other, louder, sharper, neither of them really listening anymore.
"Just listen for once!""You don't listen either brat!"
Mael pushed his younger brother again—harder this time.
"W-wooh!" Gah's heel caught on a jagged rock. His arms flailed uselessly.
"Get up already," Mael barked as the body hit the ground. "Quit messing around."
Gah didn't move.
The toy lay a few inches from his open hand. The shoe rested besides his leg.
What an ugly shoe it was.
"…Get up already, are you hurt? Sorry or whatever..." Mael said again, quieter now. He nudged him with his foot. "Hey. Come on."
Nothing.
He crouched, shaking him by the shoulder. "Stop it."
The head lolled. Blood darkened the rock beneath it.
The older brother froze.