Deceptive Stunt

In a secluded street, quite shrouded from the meddlesome eyes of local denizens. An uninteresting pair was bickering with muted voices.

They appear to be in an unprecedented conundrum based on their distorted expressions. Well, the twins just lost a not-so-remarkable set of items entrusted to them by Juanito.

"Sorry, sis. What do we do?"

"How should I know?! Aren't you the one carrying it??"

Paper snapped at his brother, who was on his knees, her temper at nigh boiling point. And as her emotions were on the cusp of erupting, it abruptly plummeted into a frightening lull.

"You deal with this mess," she declared with a deadpan expression, the timber in her voice has reached a new low.

"B-but Sis..!" cried Pen out, his shaking voice a testament to the severity of the situation. "You can't just cut me off, Sis! We're in this together, no?"

In response to his brother's plea, Paper slowly bent down on the same level as him, their eyes landing squarely on each other's.

The hysteria she exhibited a while ago was now gone, and what took over was a queer calmness that sent a shiver down Pen's spine.

'Fuck..' he thought as he heard his own saliva being swallowed.

But before the spit could trickle down to his gut, his neck was gripped by something. His sister's hand, supposedly delicate and gentle, now pressed against his throat.

"Ughh..!"

"P-pa..per..ghhh..st-op!"

Pen begged, gripping his sister's shoulders in an attempt to free himself from her iron grasp. But his efforts were in vain, after all, he could never best his counterpart in a contest of raw strength.

As his retentive memory was abnormal, his sister's strength was obscenely unfathomable. The girl's tiny frame sported a bear's herculean power despite how far removed from common sense the notion was.

"Sir Junlanito. What do we do, Pen?" she asked worriedly. "He will hate us for this, won't he? Given how we miserably failed such a simple request of him, there is no use for us to remain beside him, right?

"What do we do, oh! What do we do? If he decides to abandon us, not that we can blame him for it, where do we go? Wander the streets, homeless like the tramps we once were. Just the mere thought of Sir Juanito's contemptuous gaze burns my soul-!"

'hey, since when did our status elevate from being tramps?' Pen rebuked silently, proof of his incredible mental faculties. Normally, one could only think of self-preservation when facing off against death.

He then steered his focus back on tracks, determined. 'I need to escape Paper's clutches fast! Else..'

As Paper continued to ramble on, the grip around Pen's tightened ever so slightly, steadily robbing him of the ability to breathe.

"C-calm..down..Pa-" Pen implored desperately. But before he could pass on to the realm of the dead, he placed his palm on Paper's back, his last-ditch effort for self-resuscitation was put into motion.

Pen rhythmically caressed the back of his sister. His hands were deftly moving up and down, side to side alternatingly, as the tips of his fingers gently stroked Paper's madness back to normalcy.

The feat was extremely grueling as though he was trekking through a tortuous path of brambles. He had to be in full control of his waning lucidity while pacifying his sister.

His actions were an emulation of their mother's caresses to placate her children to sleep and the only instrument that could undo Paper's psychotic episodes.

In mere seconds, the iron claw around Pen's neck loosened significantly as he decisively jumped at the first juncture of escape, pushing Paper away.

"What..happened..?" Paper asked, her face was that of confusion which then devolved into a distraught expression. "I-Im sorry..Pen, how..could I?"

In the aftermath of her unwarranted violence, he saw his brother's reddened neck, undoubtedly the result of her chokehold. Her shoulders quivered then drooped, eyes moistened by deep regret. With her head hung low, she turned on her heels to flee the scene.

However, a hand he did not expect held her hand firmly, and as she twisted her head to look, she saw Pen's anxious face.

"Brother?" a muffled voice leaked from her, puzzled.

"Where are you running to, sis?" Pen asked concernedly as he held Paper's hand more staunchly than ever. "You don't think about running, are you?"

"I fucked up big time, sis, I know. But it is absolutely unacceptable to return to benefactor like this, not unless we wipe the shameful stain of our blunder clean from our faces.." Pen emphasized the only proposition that was acceptable, at least to him.

Paper could only nod in agreement to his brother's sound judgment. His collected attitude in dire times was truly admirable. After all, this trait was rarely exhibited by kids their age.

Overwhelmed by the glaring disparity between her and his brother, she felt utterly worthless as her self-esteem took quite the severe blow.

'I can't keep wallowing in self-reproach. If despair took a hold of my will, then I will truly be-.'

Paper balled her fists to bolster her receding spirits and spoke with courage, "My bad, Pen, for hurting you. I promise to reign in my emotions from now on."

"Got it.." Pen spoke tersely as he dumped the earlier event at the back of his mind. And as he brushed away the amassing snow on his shoulders, the surrounding air turned grave,

"It's the Three Blunt Edges, Sis."

"You mean…those sleazy bunch?"

"It's a conjecture, but most likely it's them who took benefactor's goods. They're a shrewd lot, alright, but their skills at thievery are nothing to scoff at. Not only that, they're as elusive as snakes that even the magistrate's patrol gave up on hunting them."

Pen shared his logical analysis backed by his gift of wondrous memory. His brain was brought to an overdrive, recalling the subtlest details surrounding their activities several hours back from when they entered Bleakstone.

The weary steps of destitute tramps scattered all about.

The hushed outcry of merchants due to excessive bribes they had to fork out, in tandem with the patrol guard's greedy grins.

The languid disposition of store sellers, mumbling curses of a moldy livelihood.

The habitual quirks of odd individuals who crossed his line of sight.

Every tidbit of seemingly unrelated pieces of data from hours past congregated into an assemblage of methodical dissection.

And through Pen's willpower and his otherworldly boon, the collage was completed. The insignificant pieces of information seamlessly stuck together as they created a new whole.

"Ahh…" Pen leaked an exhausted sigh and said with a voice laced with defeat, "They really got us, dear sister."

"I'm all ears.."

With the indifference in Paper's voice, coupled with her placid eyes that spoke of a frothing undercurrent, Pen knew a hammer borne from pure rage would come crashing down upon the brainchild that brought them misfortune.

"Remember the incident of a peddler's coach breaking in the middle of the road? Where we were forced to detour to the side, in front of a fruit vendor?" Pen started, narrating his discoveries.