Fluke

The man's head had rolled to an eventual stop near the edge of the state, daring to fall off into the hands of a vengeful audience who likely would have found one way or another to tear apart the man even further. Alas, however, his head just sat there, dead eyes facing the inner wall of Taisho behind us. There was no peace in his eyes, much like the others who had died here on this stage so many times before. He'd been thrown to the ground with words still on his tongue. What those words were, only he would ever know.

His last words still shaped the outlines of his mouth in what he had uttered, those foreboding words he had chosen to let out in his last moments.

"Well what do you know?" I spoke up, an amused smirk rising on my face, not being able to help but chuckle at it all. "The Fire Nation is lying to us."

Reek turned his head to me at such an exaggerated speed that I was worried for a moment he might just snap his own neck, saying with exaggerated shock, "No. They would never do such a thing!"

It was a scene we had witnessed hundreds of times over—the Fire Nation making a grand show of who was in charge. Maybe the first couple of times, it had been something to behold—watching a man's head removed from their torso before your very eyes. Now though, with how long I've been around, it was just another thing. None of us in the slums hadn't seen worse by this point, not after having been around as long as we had. These occasions would have been complete bores if we weren't able to find some way or another of joking about 'em.

The Fire Nation took their time before announcing that the show was over. I imagined that they believed that hanging around long enough to start seeing the flies swarm to the body was in itself an effective method of asserting dominance. Perhaps for some, it was, but I'd seen whole bodies hauled away by starving lion vultures to no longer doubt that one simply became another's meal at the end of the day.

Neither Reek nor I bothered to go out of our way to shroud the fact that we'd been intermixed with the inner city's people. So long as we were caught in the process of leaving rather than entering, the guards wouldn't care less. There were some, here and there, who might have embraced whatever opportunity they had to beat some slum rats senseless, but most of the ones out here were just waiting for this entire charade to be over so they could get back to, well, whatever the hell it was they did on their free time.

I asked Reek just that question as we passed by a batch of them who, luckily for our own sakes, paid us no mind, even as Reek responded with a very confident, "They jerk each other off."

I nodded without a care in the world, just accepting it as truth for the sake of the joke, hoping to at least provoke some reaction out of the soldiers, but sadly made no progression in doing so. Our juvenile antics would have to bear fruit another day.

We were herded like cattle back into the slums of the city, neither of us intent on overstaying out welcome, knowing all to well by experience what happened to those who tried to socially uplift themselves by such means. It was a difference of night and day as we returned to our hometown, wealth and power suddenly being metamorphosized before our eyes into famine and pestilence.

Whether it was the old man puking his guts in the alley, the ragged whore holding a toddler by the wrist as it tried to run off, or the two kids tailing a vendor closing shop for the day with the intent of robbing him blind, it was more than apparent to all that the inner city was behind us. Hopeless, sick, and starving were the conditions around us, but such was the way of the world. It was all about the current day, the future as meaningless as the past. It was only about the present. And in that present, I could feel the growing ache in my stomach of not having eaten for the whole day. Let's change that.

"Reek," I said, catching his attention as we walked down the Liángshí Street, prompting him to turn to face me curiously until the realization struck him. "Ah, right right. Your information. Say it's important, yeah?"

I nodded.

"More than you could know."

"More than you could know."

His words overlapped mine as our voices came out as one. "You know me too well," I chuckled.

He scoffed. "Alright now be straight with me. No sucking up or overplaying things. How important is this really?"

And I thought on the truth of it, desire to make a hefty payday for myself aside. The Hornets possessing Fire Nation weaponry. Those would be iron and possible steel weapons. Not just the usual tin scraps that they sharpened in their free time in the Hive, more likely to kill one by disease than by directed injury. They were arming. And whatever that meant, it couldn't be good for the Rats. "It's important," I confessed, not working on overplaying the facts, just spilling the truth as it was.

Whether it was the 2 and a half years we'd known each other or perhaps just the simple fact that we considered one another best friends, he chose to believe me apparently, nodding and saying, "Alright."

He nodded his head, going somewhat quieter, checking his immediate surroundings before proceeding to whisper to me, pulling me aside into an alley off of the main road, "Look, I shouldn't be telling you this, but the Miro's been saying that the Hornets are prepping for something big, so maybe you should tell this to him."

"Wait," I said, stepping back, surprised, such an offer never having been extended to me before. "You're going to take me to the Den?"

Reek couldn't suppress that hearty laugh that escaped from his lips, drawing some confused eyes from Liángshí Street pedestrians as they observed the boy in the midst of his strange guffaw. "Ah, ya kidding? Fuck no. I'll take you to where some of our guys are hanging out today and he'll set something up for you to meet."

That outcome made far more sense, but notwithstanding, it was undoubtedly a step up. Even if it wasn't stepping foot into the home of the Rats, the fact alone that this would be my first time meeting the Rat King in itself was something to not take lightly.

"So, we get going now then?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just gonna take a leak first."

"Need me to hold your hand again while you go?"

"Always gonna hold that over my head, huh? That was one time!"

I was chuckling to myself at the thought of it, of when the Rat-Hornet turf war had just begun, and Reek was under the impression that he was some high-priority target with the Hornets constantly after him to the point that he was afraid to urinate alone. While it hadn't been the most fun humoring his anxiety back then, it had, at the very least, given me more than enough material to make fun of him with. "Just go," I said between chuckles, watching as he stomped off into a side alley.

My eyes followed him disappear behind the corner until he was gone, returning my line of sight outside of the alley to the main road. Activity had quickly returned to normalcy as the slums' residents no longer had the distraction of a public beheading to keep them away from their day-to-day struggle of surviving. A hand slipped into the one still intact pocket of my worn pants, quite confident that this pocket was soon to breaking soon as well, but while it still held, I fiddled around with the feeling of the 10 coppers within that I'd earned from Danev. I'd been hoping for food and water, the actual currency just giving me the additional task of needing to scout of somewhere that still sold food.

Conveniently enough, there was a bakery directly across from the alley's outlet, but a rickety wooden sign hung from the door of the building, the characters spelling out, "Closed." Of course. What isn't closed?

I considered in my head the different minor businesses that used to operate within the slums, most having permanently shut down over the years, becoming infested by street urchins looking for food or something to pawn off and squatters simply looking for a roof over their heads.

Is Mishi's still open?

Mishi's scrap shack was the closest I'd ever come to what one might call 'a real job.' I hadn't really had anywhere else to go, anything else to do with my life after my time as a pickpocket and burglar with Mini came to an end.

My time at Mishi's wasn't long. Only around a year, but he'd treated me like family in the short stint I was there. Had me doing simple tasks like cleaning, taking out the trash, menial work that anybody could do. Time passed and the old man eventually came to trust me more, I suppose. Taught me basic mathematics and showed me how to take inventory and run numbers.

I think he always knew that I was sticking my hand into the store's savings ever now and then, doing dealings under the table. I don't know why he never called me out on it, the conclusion of our relationship being me quitting rather than him firing me as he likely should have. Instead I left him there, my time at his shop teaching me how to listen, how to pay attention, but more importantly, it reminded me of the lesson I'd learned alongside Mini. Honest work doesn't pay in the slums. I'd seen Mishi robbed, cheated, exploited, by myself included, for too long to not have learned that listen.

Even still, even if it had been the law of the land, it didn't mean I had no regrets. I sometimes still dreamed of paying him back, but that was, after all, just a dream. I had to look after myself first and foremost. I rubbed the copper pieces together in my pocket, not being able to think of any vendors I could go to that would prove a viable option for today, instead just choosing to rely on Rat generosity putting a meal in my belly for tonight.

I turned back to the street. A tiny kid no older than 4 was wrestling with a starving dog for a bone. It was difficult to discern which of the two belligerents was in need of it more, both of them starved down to the bone. Neither of them will last, I could conclude quickly enough. Too weak for a gang. Might have made a living back in the day as a pickpocket, but the time for that is in the past. Nothing left to steal in these slums unless it's from a gang.

I'd considered joining a gang. Once upon a time. Place to sleep, people looking after me, but it also meant people who'd want me dead. Who, while they may not kill me, would certainly beat me to a bloody pulp? Making myself useful to both sides, however, it's kept me alive this long. I saw no reason why I wouldn't continue to do so.

I don't know if it had been a muffled whisper, the sound of footsteps against stone, or just the movement of the wind through the alley that had caught my attention, but some noise or other turned my head deeper into the alley, expecting to find Reek standing there for me.

The alleyway was empty. It was nothing. I breathed a sigh of relief. Nobody's coming after you, Luke. You're fine. It's nothing.

`Nothing` proved, soon enough however, to very much be 'something,' 2 arms wrapping around my neck from behind, pulling me to the ground as a kick to the back of my leg swept my balance away, my support giving out under me. The arm remained around my neck, and my attempted shout of Reek's name only culminated in the words becoming caught in my throat, no noise save for a choked gargle coming out. I attempted reaching behind me to get any kind of advantage I could. My hand came in contact with flesh, a face, and I attempted to grab on out of mere desperation, but it was pointless.

My arms were twigs, incapable of defending me when the time came. I always assumed it never would. I wasn't a fighter. I was a resource. And that had kept me alive. But every resource outlived its usefulness eventually. And that time had come for me. The edges of my sight darkened, forcing with every ounce of effort I could muster to keep them open, knowing that when the darkness came, there likely wouldn't be coming any back from it. Why? Why today? What did I do wrong?

2 figures appeared before me, reduced to silhouettes in my fading consciousness. Some pathetic ounce of hope told me they would help, but reality proved to be less kind than my naivete. They stood there, arms crossed, watching as I slipped away from the world. I made a desperate effort of reaching for my knife by my pant sleeve, but the quick intervention of one of the shadowed figures before me quickly, a quick, wet punch to the face rendering that feeble attempt of mine worthless.

I could feel the beginning of droplets forming around my eyes. In my last moments of consciousness, I wondered why it was. Was it the strangulation, or just the reality of it all? How unfair it was. How quickly it was all coming to an end now.

It's too early.

I don't want to die. I tried speaking those words, but there was no breath left in me to do so.

Please don't let me die.