The red light of the Red Dark contrasted with the glow of the moon light. Leania sat on the edge of the plank, her silhouette sharp against the glowing mist looking like a ghost in the Red Dark.
Ryckel felt a hot prickle of embarrassment crawl up his neck. "I---I'm sorry," he stammered, backing away. "I didn't mean to snoop. I'll go back down."
Leania didn't turn around, but her voice was calm, almost inviting. "It's fine, Southerner. You can come. I don't bite."
Ryckel hesitated. "Are you sure? Your father... your grandfather? If they catch me up here---"
"Grandpa?" Leania let out a short, dry laugh. "He looks like a mountain, but he's a softy. They both are. Just big, old softies who bark louder than they bite. Don't worry about them."
Ryckel took a step forward, standing a respectful distance away.
Internally, he was screaming. He had never talked to a girl for this long, let alone been alone with one in the middle of the night. In the red illumination,
Leania looked... different. Striking.
He found he couldn't look her directly in the eyes, grateful for the crimson mist that hid the fact that his face was likely the same color as the sky.
"What are you doing up so late?" Ryckel asked, his voice cracking slightly. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"
Leania finally turned, her gas mask reflecting the red light like two large, insectoid eyes. "The same could be said for you. Why were you prancing around the platforms like a stray cat?"
Ryckel shut his mouth. She had him there.
"Hey, Ryckel, right?" she asked. He nodded. "Have you ever wondered about going outside during the Blood Veil?"
"The Blood Veil?" Ryckel repeated, confused.
"The Bleeding Hour," she corrected herself with a tilt of her head. "I forgot, you're not from here."
Ryckel felt a sudden swell of confidence. "I've done more than wonder. I've survived in it. Plenty of times."
Leania's posture shifted. She looked genuinely surprised. "How? I can't believe a Southerner really did that. You're usually so... fragile."
Ryckel looked at his boots. "I didn't have a choice. Before I got to Lilliebore... I was kidnapped. I was forced to stay out for days." As he spoke, his hand instinctively drifted to the dagger in his satchel.
His mind flashed to Hood, the shadows, the blood, the finality of the blade in the skull. He clenched his fist tight.
Leania noticed the tension in his hand, her eyes lingering on his knuckles.
Ryckel caught himself and quickly relaxed his grip, trying to look composed.
"And before that," he added, "I used to sneak out back home. I was a night-soil collector. I worked in the red all the time." He said.
"You really are one weird Southerner," she mused.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" Ryckel asked, genuinely annoyed now. "Aren't we both Southerners? We're in the South."
Leania stared at him for a long beat, then burst into a fit of giggles. Ryckel stood there, feeling like he'd missed a joke. Was this the same girl who had threatened to beat him up earlier?
"What's so funny?"
"I've just never thought about it like that," she said, wiping a stray tear from her mask's edge. "In this town, the Nōh are 'Northerners' and the people in the stilted houses are 'Southerners.' That's just the rule. It's always been that way."
---The End of Chapter 27---