The markets of Level 127 buzzed with life—vendors shouting prices, steam hissing from food stalls, the hum of broken neon lights overhead. Tarps in faded colors stretched like patchwork ceilings, and the air smelled of fried bread and hot metal.
Mikey walked through the chaos with a grin plastered on his face, spinning the new blades in his hands. Dual fifteen-inch daggers—sleek, black, and curved just enough to look mean. The bandaged grips fit snug in his palms, light enough to feel like extensions of his arms. Mikey stared at them like a kid on Christmas morning, Ryosuke walked right alongside him, calm as ever.
"Do you like them?"
Mikey didn't look up, still admiring the steel.
"Love 'em."
Ryosuke shook his head, hiding a smile. Up ahead, Mikey spotted Luce, clipboard in hand, she was talking to a vendor, scribbling notes before flashing her easy smile. Mikey waved a dagger in the air like a signal.
"Luce!"
She glanced over, excused herself, and came their way.
"Hey, boys."
Ryosuke's eyes drifted to the clipboard.
"What are you doing with that, Luciana?"
Luce chuckled.
"Promised a vendor I'd check his stock... It's a long story." She turned to Mikey and noticed the blades. "New weapons?"
Mikey proudly lifted them, tilting them toward the light.
"Dual daggers. Tell me they're not badass."
Luce grinned. "Oh, they are. But I'm not surprised it's not a gun—you're the worst shot I've ever seen." She laughed, patting his shoulder.
Mikey's grin collapsed.
"Tsk. Shut up, I ain't that bad."
Ryosuke added gently, "You are, young Mikey. You really are." He patted his other shoulder.
Mikey muttered, "Stupid…" and sheathed the blades quickly.
The laughter faded as Ryosuke looked back at Luce.
"Tobias? He was with you earlier, wasn't he?"
Luce shook her head.
"Nah, he's with Amelia, I think. Probably in her tent."
Mikey's chest tightened for a moment. Jealousy flickered, mixed with curiosity, but he kept it buried.
"What time is it, Luce?"
She checked her watch.
"Two. Why?"
Mikey's eyes widened.
"Shit—I promised Angelica I'd play with her and her friends."
Both Luce and Ryosuke nodded as Mikey started off at a jog, his blades bouncing at his sides.
"Put them in their sheaths!" Ryosuke called.
Mikey glanced down, realized he was still carrying them bare, and quickly slid them into the strapped holsters along his thighs. He shot a sheepish thumbs-up over his shoulder before breaking into a run, weaving through the bustling market until he vanished into the crowd. Ryosuke and Luce watched him disappear, the noise of the market swelling back around them.
Luce's smile faded as she glanced at Ryosuke. Her tone dropped, sharp and weighted."I just talked to Bobo. He found me before you guys did… said he had a conversation with Isaak."
Ryosuke caught the shift instantly, the seriousness in her eyes.
"About what?"
She hesitated, drew a slow breath, and her grip tightened on the clipboard.
"You're not gonna like it…"
–––
Hours later, Mikey was oblivious to the storm gathering over his head. He was too busy in the middle of a match of Bubble Ball with Angelica and her friends.
The "ball" was nothing more than a lump of bubble wrap, wound tight with bandages until it was roughly sphere-shaped. The rules were simple: no arms, no legs. Only head, chest, back, or shoulders, and Mikey had developed a rhythm—shoulder flicks into headers, awkward but effective.
"Mr. Mikey!" one of the boys yelled as he lobbed the ball high.
Mikey charged across the makeshift field—just an open stretch of concrete on Level 127. He jumped, chesting the ball hard before arching backward, balancing it as the kids closed in. They swarmed him in a wave of giggles, but he danced around them easily. Maybe Ryosuke's training made him more athletic? Or maybe... he was just a grown-ass man going up against ten year olds.
He spotted Angelica up ahead—wide open, waving her arms, a smile splitting her little face.
"Little Angel!!" Mikey bellowed.
He launched the ball forward with a sharp header. Angelica ran, tiny legs pumping. She leapt—barely clearing the ground—and the ball smacked her head cleanly. She tumbled forward, landing flat on her face, but the ball rolled straight through the goal posts.
"Goal!!" Mikey threw both arms up, shouting with wild joy.
The laughter died fast when he saw Angelica face-down in the dust. He sprinted over, heart racing, and knelt beside her.
"You okay, little Angel?"
To his shock, she rolled over grinning ear-to-ear, eyes bright. She sprang up like nothing happened and wrapped him in a hug.
"Did you see that?! Did you see that?!"
Relief washed over him, with that excitement Mikey lifted her high above his head, spinning her until both of them were dizzy with laughter. But as he set her down, his eyes lingered on hers. They were big, shining, too full of life for a kid who'd already lost so much. She reminded him of himself, with that same hollow space where a parent should've been, and yet here she was, smiling because of him.
He sniffled, blinking fast in order to stuff out the water brimming in his eyes.
"Yeah… I saw."
Angelica tilted her head, gazing up at him. Her smile began to soften.
"Why are you crying, Mr. Mikey?"
He turned away quickly, wiping at his eyes, cheeks flushed.
"Nothing. I ain't crying..."
But Angelica wasn't fooled. She hugged him at the waist, small arms squeezing tight. "I don't know why you're sad… but it's okay." She patted his back gently, like she was the grown-up.
Mikey looked down at her, a faint crinkle tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Geez… you're too smart, young lady. Just like your mommy."
Angelica tilted her head.
"Just like Mommy?"
"Yeah," he said softly, voice thick. "Just like her."